“The delay could not be helped.  I had so many traps ashore, it took time to gather them together.  Come, fill away, and let us be moving.  Now we are under way, I’m in as great haste as you are yourself.”

Roswell complied, and away the two schooners went, keeping quite near to each other, having smooth water, and still something of a moderated gale, in consequence of the proximity and weatherly position of the island.  The course was towards a spot to leeward, where the largest opening appeared in the ice, and where it was hoped a passage to the northward would be found.  The further the two vessels got from the land, the more they felt the power of the wind, and the greater was their rate of running.  Daggett soon found that he could spare his consort a good deal of canvass, a consequence of his not being full, and he took in his topsail, though, running nearly before the wind, his spar would have stood even a more severe strain.

As the oldest mariner, it had been agreed between the two masters that Daggett should lead the way.  This he did for an hour, when both vessels were fairly out of the great bay, clear of the group altogether, and running off north-easterly, at a rate of nearly ten knots in the hour.  The sea got up as they receded from the land, and everything indicated a gale, though one of no great violence.  Night was approaching, and an Alpine-like range of icebergs was glowing, to the northward, under the oblique rays of the setting sun.  For a considerable space around the vessels, the water was clear, not even a cake of any sort being to be seen; and the question arose in Daggett’s mind, whether he ought to stand on, or to heave-to and pass the night well to windward of the bergs.  Time was precious, the wind was fair, the heavens clear, and the moon would make its appearance about nine, and might be expected to remain above the horizon until the return of day.  This was one side of the picture.  The other presented less agreeable points.  The climate was so fickle, that the clearness of the skies was not to be depended on, especially with a strong south-west wind—­a little gale, in fact; and a change in this particular might be produced at any moment.  Then it was certain that floes, and fragments of bergs, would be found near, if not absolutely among the sublime mountain-like piles that were floating about, in a species of grand fleet, some twenty miles to leeward.  Both of our masters, indeed all on board of each schooner, very well understood that the magnificent array of icy islands which lay before them was owing to the currents, for which it is not always easy to account.  The clear space was to be attributed to the same cause, though there was little doubt that the wind, which had now been to the southward fully eight-and-forty hours, had contributed to drive the icy fleet to the northward.  As a consequence of these facts, the field-ice must be in the vicinity of the bergs, and the embarrassment from that source was known always to be very great.