I had no fears that the _Roosevelt_ would be crushed by any onset of the ice, but I did apprehend that she might be forced bodily up on to the ice-foot, thrown on her beam ends and pushed so far inshore that it would be impossible to float her another season. Another possibility was that a particularly violent gale, such as might occur at any time, would tear us from our moorings and carry us out into the moving pack, in which event there would not be one chance in a hundred of our being able to get the ship back to her present position again. On the morning of the 28th a gust of south wind blowing through the ventilator holes in my stateroom door woke me and I went on deck immediately. It was then very clear, with the wind light and baffling from every quarter, evidently gathering its forces. At 5 A. M. it came on with a rush from the south, and increased in fury until nothing could be heard above its roar, and the ship was completely submerged in a blinding cataract of snow. In a short time a piece of ice on our starboard quarter began groaning and grinding against the ship’s side. Fearing it might break loose and, in the event that our propeller and rudder post were frozen into it, tear our stern from its moorings, every piece of line that could be found was run out from the port quarter and made fast to the ice-foot. As in all of these gales the temperature was comparatively high, being in this instance from seven to fourteen degrees above zero. Otherwise the work would have been extremely trying and even dangerous. One of the crew stumbling in a crack a few yards from the ship lost his bearings and after some time brought up at the box houses on the shore. Some of the Eskimos coming from the box houses to the ship lost their way and groped for some time before they got their bearings. At noon the wind had moderated and our stream anchor was attached to the end of the port chain cable, placed in a hole dug for it in the ice-foot behind a large grounded floeberg, and then frozen in. For several hours during the day the _Roosevelt_ rolled pronouncedly on the swell, swinging round Rawson from the wild sea in the mouth of Robeson Channel. For several days after this there was more open water in the neighbourhood than at any time since our arrival. All the upper part of Robeson Channel was open and everything to the northeast and north from Rawson round to Sheridan and beyond inky black. At 3 A. M. of January 1st, the ice came in against our starboard side with a steady roar, but the _Roosevelt_ turned it under her like water running into a mill-race, and the pressure ceased before any unusually heavy ice came against her. A little later the ice swung completely off-shore again. The night of the 6th was a disagreeable anniversary to me. Seven years before I was struggling across Lady Franklin Bay in bitter cold and complete darkness, to bring up finally at Fort Conger with both feet frozen.