more serious purposes, and this reflection made the days irksome to me.
IN DANGER. Four days of almost constant calm would tax the patience of even Job-like resignation. We had a breath of wind now and then to tantalize us, treacherous currents to keep us ever anxious, icebergs always threatening us; now at anchor, then moored to a berg, and again keeping free from danger through a hard struggle with the oars. We had many narrow escapes, one of which, as illustrating a peculiar feature of Arctic navigation, is perhaps worthy of more particular record.
We had made a little progress during the night, but soon after breakfast the wind died away, and the schooner lay like a log upon the water. Giving too little heed to the currents, we were eagerly watching the indications of wind which appeared at the south, and hoping for a breeze, when it was discovered that the tide had changed, and was stealthily setting us upon a nest of bergs which lay to leeward. One of them was of that description known among the crew by the significant title of "Touch me not," and presented that jagged, honey-combed appearance indicative of great age. They are unpleasant neighbors. The least disturbance of their equilibrium may cause the whole mass to crumble to pieces, and woe be unto the unlucky vessel that is caught in the dissolution.
In such a trap it seemed, however, that we stood a fair chance of being ensnared. The current was carrying us along at an uncomfortably rapid rate. A boat was lowered as quickly as possible, to run out a line to a berg which lay grounded about a hundred yards from us. While this was being done, we grazed
