The Forward advanced carefully, but still she advanced; tempests are frequent in this narrow pass, and the brig did not escape their usual violence; by Hatteras's orders, all the topsail-yards were lowered, and the topmasts also; in spite of everything the ship labored fearfully; the heavy seas kept the deck continually deluged with water; the smoke flew eastward with inconceivable rapidity; they went on almost at haphazard through the floating ice; the barometer fell to 29°;* it was hard to stay on deck, so most of the men were kept below to spare them unnecessary exposure.

Hatteras, Johnson, and Shandon remained on the quarter-deck, in spite of the whirlwinds of snow and rain; and the doctor, who had just asked himself what was the most disagreeable thing to be done at that time, soon joined them there; they could not hear, and hardly could they see, one another; so he kept his thoughts to himself.

On the quarter-deck

Hatteras tried to pierce the dense cloud of mist, for, according to his calculation, they should be through the strait at six o'clock of the evening. At that time exit seemed closed, and Hatteras was obliged to stop and anchor to an iceberg; but steam was kept up all night.

The weather was terrible. Every moment the Forward threatened to snap her cables; there was danger, too, lest the mountain should be driven by the wind and crush the brig. The officers kept on the alert, owing to their extreme anxiety; besides the snow, large lumps of frozen spray were blown about by the hurricane like sharp arrows.

The temperature arose strangely in that terrible night; the thermometer marked 57°; and the doctor, to his great surprise, thought he noticed some flashes of lightning followed by distant thunder. This seemed to corroborate the testimony of Scoresby, who noticed the same phenomenon above latitude 65°. Captain Parry also observed it in 1821.

Towards five o'clock in the morning the weather changed with singular rapidity; the temperature fell to the freezing-point; the wind shifted to the north and grew quiet. The western opening of the strait could be seen, but it was entirely closed. Hatteras gazed anxiously at the coast, asking himself if there really were any exit.

Nevertheless, the brig put out slowly into the ice-streams, while the ice crushed noisily against her bows; the packs at this time were six or seven feet thick; it was necessary carefully to avoid them, for if the ship should try to withstand them, it ran the risk of being lifted half out of the water and cast on her beam-ends.

At noon, for the first time, a magnificent solar phenomenon could be observed, a halo with two parhelions; the doctor observed it, and took its exact dimensions; the exterior arc was only visible for about thirty degrees each side of the horizontal diameter; the two images of the sun were remarkably clear; the colors within the luminous area were, going toward the outside, red, yellow, green, faint blue, and last of all white, gently fading away, without any sharp line of termination.

A halo with two parhelions

The doctor remembered Thomas Young's ingenious theory about these meteors; he supposed that certain clouds composed of prisms of ice are hanging in the air; the sun's rays falling on these prisms are refracted at angles of sixty and ninety degrees. The halos can only be formed in a clear sky. The doctor thought this an ingenious explanation.

Sailors, who are familiar with northern seas, consider this phenomenon a forerunner of heavy snow. If this should be the case, the position of the Forward was very critical. Hence Hatteras resolved to push on; during the rest of that day and the next night he took no rest, but examined the horizon through his glass, entering every inlet, and losing no opportunity to get out of the strait.

But in the morning he was compelled to stop before the impenetrable ice. The doctor joined him on the quarter-deck. Hatteras led him clear aft where they could talk without fear of being overheard.

"We are caught," said Hatteras. "It's impossible to go on."

"Impossible?" said the doctor.

"Impossible! All the powder on board the Forward would not open a quarter of a mile to us."

"What are we to do?" asked the doctor.

"I don't know. Curse this unlucky year!"

"Well, Captain, if we must go into winter-quarters, we'll do it. As well here as anywhere else!"

"Of course," said Hatteras in a low voice, "but we ought not to be going into winter-quarters, especially in the month of June. It is demoralizing, and bad for the health. The spirits of the crew are soon cast down during this long rest among real sufferings. So I had made up my mind to winter at a latitude nearer the Pole."

"Yes, but, unluckily, Baffin's Bay was closed."

"Any one else would have found it open," cried Hatteras; "that American, that—"

"Come, Hatteras," said the doctor, purposely interrupting him, "it's now only the 5th of June; we should not despair; a path may open before us suddenly; you know the ice often breaks into separate pieces, even when the weather is calm, as if it were driven apart by some force of repulsion; at any moment we may find the sea free."

"Well, if that happens, we shall take advantage of it. It is not impossible that beyond Bellot Strait we might get northward through Peel Sound or MacClintock Channel, and then—"

"Captain," said James Wall, approaching, "the ice threatens to tear away the rudder."

"Well," answered Hatteras, "never mind; I sha'n't unship it; I want to be ready at any hour, day or night. Take every precaution, Mr. Wall, and keep the ice off; but don't unship it, you understand."

"But—" began Wall.

"I don't care to hear any remarks, sir," said Hatteras, severely. "Go!"

Wall returned to his post.

"Ah!" said Hatteras, angrily, "I would give five years of my life to be farther north! I don't know any more dangerous place; and besides, we are so near the magnetic pole that the compass is of no use; the needle is inactive, or always shifting its direction."

"I confess," said the doctor, "that it is not plain sailing; but still, those who undertook it were prepared for such dangers, and there is no need to be surprised."

"Ah, Doctor! the crew has changed very much, and you have seen that the officers have begun to make remarks. The high pay offered the sailors induced them to ship; but they have their bad side, for as soon as they are off they are anxious to get back. Doctor, I have no encouragement in my undertaking, and if I fail, it won't be the fault of such or such a sailor, but of the ill-will of certain officers. Ah, they'll pay dearly for it!"

"You are exaggerating, Hatteras."

"Not at all! Do you fancy the crew are sorry for the obstacles we are meeting? On the contrary, they hope I shall be compelled to abandon my plans. So they do not murmur, and when the Forward is headed for the south, it will be the same thing. Fools! They imagine they are returning to England! But when I'm turned towards the north, you will see a difference! I swear solemnly that no living being shall make me swerve from my course! Give me a passage, an opening through which my brig can go, and I shall take it, if I have to leave half her sheathing behind!"

The desires of the captain were destined to be satisfied in a measure. As the doctor had foretold, there was a sudden change in the evening; under some influence of the wind, the ice-fields separated; the Forward pushed on boldly, breaking the ice with her steel prow; all the night they advanced, and towards six o'clock they were clear of Bellot Strait.

But great was Hatteras's anger at finding the way to the north closed! He was able to hide his despair; and as if the only open path were the one of his choice, he turned the Forward towards Franklin Sound.