to set again.  And here is another of those awful gales.  Will it be my very last? all alone here,—­who have done so much,—­and if they would only take care of me I can do so much more.  Will nobody come?  Nobody?....  What!  Is it ice blink,—­are my poor old lookouts blind?  Is not there the ‘Intrepid’?  Dear ‘Intrepid,’ I will never look down on you again!  No! there is no smoke-stack, it is not the ‘Intrepid.’  But it is somebody.  Pray see me, good somebody.  Are you a Yankee whaler?  I am glad to see the Yankee whalers, I remember the Yankee whalers very pleasantly.  We had a happy summer together once....  It will be dreadful if they do not see me!  But this ice, this wretched ice!  They do see me,—­I know they see me, but they cannot get at me.  Do not go away, good Yankees; pray come and help me.  I know I can get out, if you will help a little....  But now it is a whole week and they do not come!  Are there any Yankees, or am I getting crazy?  I have heard them talk of crazy old ships, in my young days....  No!  I am not crazy.  They are coming! they are coming.  Brave Yankees! over the hummocks, down into the sludge.  Do not give it up for the cold.  There is coal below, and we will have a fire in the Sylvester, and in the captain’s cabin....  There is a horrid lane of water.  They have not got a Halkett.  O, if one of these boats of mine would only start for them, instead of lying so stupidly on my deck here!  But the men are not afraid of water!  See them ferry over on that ice block!  Come on, good friends!  Welcome, whoever you be,—­Dane, Dutch, French, or Yankee, come on! come on!  It is coming up a gale, but I can bear a gale.  Up the side, men.  I wish I could let down the gangway alone.  But here are all these blocks of ice piled up,—­you can scramble over them!  Why do you stop?  Do not be afraid.  I will make you very comfortable and jolly.  Do not stay talking there.  Pray come in.  There is port in the captain’s cabin, and a little preserved meat in the pantry.  You must be hungry; pray come in!  O, he is coming, and now all four are coming.  It would be dreadful if they had gone back!  They are on deck.  Now I shall go home!  How lonely it has been!”

It was true enough that when Mr. Quail, the brother of the captain of the “McLellan,” whom the “Resolute” had befriended, the mate of the George Henry, whaler, whose master, Captain Buddington, had discovered the “Resolute” in the ice, came to her after a hard day’s journey with his men, the men faltered with a little superstitious feeling, and hesitated for a minute about going on board.  But the poor lonely ship wooed them too lovingly, and they climbed over the broken ice and came on deck.  She was lying over on her larboard side, with a heavy weight of ice holding her down.  Hatches and companion were made fast, as Captain Kellett had left them.  But, knocking open the companion, groping down stairs to the after cabin they found their way to the captain’s table; somebody put