The following entry in my journal, made at this period, will exhibit our condition and the temper of the crew:—
"Notwithstanding all this knocking about, every body seems to take it for granted that this sort of thing is very natural and proper, and a part of the engagement for the cruise. It is at least gratifying to see that they take kindly to discomfort, and receive every freak of fortune with manly good nature. I really believe that were affairs otherwise ordered they would be sadly disappointed. They are "the small band of brave and spirited men" they read about in the newspapers, and they mean to show it. The sailors are sometimes literally drowned out of the forecastle. The cabin is flooded at least a dozen times a day. The skylight has been knocked to pieces by the head of a sea, and the table, standing directly under it, has been more than once cleared of crockery and eatables without the aid of the steward. My own cabin gets washed out at irregular intervals, and my books are half of them spoiled by tumbling from their shelves in spite of all I can do to the contrary. Once I caught the whole library tacking about the deck after an unusually ambitious dive of the schooner, and the advent of a more than ordinarily heavy rush of water through the 'companion-way.'"
It had been my intention to stop at Egedesmindie, or some other of the lower Danish stations, on the Greenland coast, to obtain a stock of furs, and at the upper settlements to procure the needful supply of dogs for sledge travelling; but, the wind being fair, I resolved to hold on and trust to obtaining every thing required at Pröven and Upernavik.
A LAND-FALL. We made our first land-fall on the 31st. It proved
