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Another ice cake floated against the first, and the "Penelope" would have been crowded deeper and deeper aground had not, after much chopping and prying, a crack opened up across the ice on our port bow. The two pieces swung apart, leaving the "Penelope" free. Again we tried to heave into deeper water, and finally with all sails set and all hands pulling on the chain, the boat slid off in time to escape another big sheet of ice. Of course this was one of the few times we did not feel like shouting and singing. We held our breath. It was an unpleasant experience, but one upon which we can look back with a sort of quiet satisfaction. We shall-at least have one hair-breadth escape to narrate to our friends at home. After dodging and threading our way, the captain finally sailed us into an open tract of water outside the ice.

Natives with Walrus-hide Canoe.

We have made little progress these last days. We have been sailing about in circles, at times coming within forty miles of Cape Blossom, but still blocked by the line of ice that closes the mouth of Kotzebue Sound. It is now rapidly breaking up and melting, and as soon as an off-shore wind sets in, the ice will be surely driven out to sea and our path will be clear. We are fifty days from San Francisco, and the majority of us are longing for land. Vessels are constantly coming In sight.