to remain while the wind lasted in its present quarter, and, to guard as much as possible from any sudden movement taking us unawares, I kept within sight my delicately-poised needle, so that the slightest shifting of the ice on which we were encamped might be known.
In the evening the gale abated, and by 10 p.m. it was calm, but the heavy sea kept the ice creaking, screaming, and thundering, as it actually danced to and fro! It was to me a new but fearful sight. When I retired to bed I laid down with strange thoughts in my mind, but with the conviction that the same protecting hand would watch over me there as elsewhere.
The night passed away without alarm, and in the morning Koodloo made an opening with a snow-knife through the dome of the igloo for peering out at the weather. He reported all clear and safe, and, after a hot breakfast, we packed and started, though under great difficulty and hazard.
The ice had given way, and was on the move in every direction. The snow was also very deep—sometimes above our knees—and moreover very treacherous. We could hardly get along; and the poor dogs, which had been near starving since we had left the ship (Esquimaux dogs endure starvation, and yet work, amazingly), had to be assisted by us in pushing and hauling the sledge, while constant precaution was needed against falling through some snow-covered ice-crack. Every now and then we came to openings made by the gale and heaving sea. Some, of these were so wide that our sledge could hardly bridge them, and a détour would have to be made for a better spot. At other places we had to overcome obstructions caused by high rugged ice that had been thrown up when masses had been crushed together by the tremendous power of the late storm.
To guard against and extricate ourselves from these dangers, yet find a track amid the hummocks around, each of us by turns took the lead, and in this manner we proceeded on our way; but it was evident we had hardly strength enough to persevere in reaching our destination that night. By 2 p.m.
