half past seven o'clock, a closely connected stream[1] of ice was seen from the deck, which, as we approached, assumed the appearance of a naval port, extending from south-west to north, as far as the eye could reach. It bore also the semblance of lofty ships, turreted and spired churches, and magnificent buildings. At nine, we ran close to an impenetrable barrier of close-packed ice, composed of massive hummocks[2], thrown up by some pressure or force, and resembling fragments of rock. Thermometer 14°.
May 6. The wind having changed during the night, I found on coming upon deck, that a gentle breeze from the eastward was taking us to the side of a range of ice, which it was presumed extended to the land, though probably at the distance of one hundred miles. The fineness and beauty of the morning, with still water, yielded a comfort I had scarcely experienced for the last five days; and being relieved from the continuance of that dreadful visitation of sickness, I had leisure to view with delight a bold barrier of ice, grand beyond conception, to one who had never before visited the frozen world. At nine o'clock, a ship under a considerable pressure of sail, crossed our track, as if to be before us in success, and fearlessly went into the ice; four others had been seen to
