“_October 17._—All quiet during the night till Lusina came to announce, with a voice as from the grave, that the ship was making more water, sixteen inches in the forepart, eleven inches amidships. East wind, with heavy drifting snow-storms—during the day once only a strain of short duration was felt in the ship, as a new fissure opened in the piled-up ice on our starboard quarter. “_October 18._—Our anxieties somewhat abate and our watchful state of preparation to leave the ship relaxes, and most of us determine once more to undress for the night. After several weeks the sun, which had been obscured by the weather, becomes visible, rising 2° 25′ above the horizon; the temperature stands at -20° F., and our latitude is 77° 48′. “_October 19._—Straining in the ship; the sun rose about a quarter past eight, but was soon veiled in frosty vapours. “_October 20._—The hull of the ship is still without its necessary protection of ice and snow, while we are wrapt in furs and wear reindeer-shoes and felt-boots. In the evening a faint mock moon was visible. “_October 21._—At night we were alarmed by a loud sound, and in few minutes all were on deck with their fur clothes on—a fissure had opened on the starboard side of the ship, connecting itself with that which had been formed astern of the ship. In an hour this fissure had widened about four feet, and we worked for some hours by the light of lamps to fill it up with snow and pieces of ice. The low temperature (-21° F.) led us to expect that this chasm would be bridged over without further effort on our part. The moon stood surrounded by a vast halo in the heavens and illuminated the awful loneliness of our abode. Once more a calm! When any one comes down from the deck into the cabin, the eyes of all are involuntarily turned upon him to read in the expression of his face what is going on above, and each dreads to hear it said, that the ice is in motion. In the afternoon, when the fissure closed, we heard the old dull sound from the ice, and the ship strained violently, and all were on deck ready to leave. About nine o’clock in the evening the motion of the ice was again felt. Uncertain and full of fears as to what the night might bring forth, we go early to rest; no one knows how short that rest may be. Even Klotz lays aside his stoical calmness, and the philosophical dignity of his remarks departs when his comrades spring from their berths and rush on deck with their bundles. The frozen pumps are daily thawed by boiling water; to-day the shaft of one of them broke, through the excessive strain put upon it. [Illustration: THE MOON WITH ITS HALO.]