Similar scenes were occurring every day; but though they were all nearly as exciting, and the interest of the sport was never decreased, but rather grew on us, yet, if I were to attempt to describe each chase, and how each fish was killed, my readers would weary with the account. For the greater part of a month we remained in the bay; and now the fish becoming scarce, and the summer drawing to a conclusion, with a fair breeze we made sail to the southward. I spoke of our having passed Lancaster Sound, a short way to the south of which Pond's Bay is situated. I did not mention at the time the interest with which I regarded that vast inlet--the mouth, one cannot help fancying, to the unknown sea which bounds the northern shores of the American continent. I certainly think more of it now, while I am writing, than I did then, because I have since become aware of the many gallant exploits which have been there performed, and the bold attempts which have been made to pierce through it to the seas beyond. I need scarcely remind my readers that up that passage the veteran arctic explorer, Sir John Franklin, and his brave companions, are supposed to have proceeded. Under his command, the _Erebus_ and _Terror_ sailed from the Thames on the 26th May, 1845, to proceed up Davis's Straits, then into Lancaster Sound, and from thence, without stopping, to examine the coast, to push westward as fast as they could towards Behring's Straits. Captain Crozier had command of the _Terror_; and the expedition was accompanied by the transport _Bonetto Junior_, commanded by Lieutenant Griffith, and laden with provisions, clothing, etcetera, to be put on board the ships in Davis's Straits. Both vessels were fitted with steam-engines and screw-propellers; but they did not go ahead with them more than three knots an hour. Lieutenant Griffith reports "that he left them with every species of provisions for three entire years, independently of five bullocks; they had also stores for the same time, and fuel in abundance." The expedition was last seen by the _Prince of Wales_ whaler, on the 26th July, in latitude 74 degrees 48 minutes north, longitude 66 degrees 13 minutes west, moored to an iceberg, and waiting for an opening in the great body of ice, which I described as filling the middle of Baffin's Bay, in order to reach the entrance of Lancaster Sound. All hands were well and in high spirits, and determined to succeed, if success were possible; but since that day they have never been heard of. Year after year have those gallant men in vain been looked for, but not without hope of their return, nor without attempts made to discover and rescue them.