Just before daybreak, the thrilling cry of “Ice dead ahead!” came from the lookout, and there was hardly time to give the wheel a few turns before a great gray mass loomed up on the port bow. A moment more, and one of the gigantic ice mountains so dreaded in these southern seas came into plain view. It towered far above the mast-heads, culminating in a circle of fantastic pinnacles which resembled the turrets of a castle. The waves, breaking against its base with a noise like thunder, hurled themselves far up its steep sides, soon to descend in the form of foaming cataracts and water falls. High up on the near side, overhanging the water, was a threatening mass of ice that seemed ready to fall on the ship, and blot her out of existence. So perilously close to the great berg was the _Sagamore_, that its freezing breath chilled all on deck to the marrow, and the ship’s red port light, as she swept by, shone weirdly on the frozen mass, revealing gruesome caverns that penetrated far inward. Everyone breathed easier when the monster was passed, and several recalled the names of missing ships that mysteriously disappeared in the South Atlantic. The first streaks of dawn revealed five more bergs, which formed an icy barrier through which it was perilous to attempt a passage; while the dangerous group of rocks known as the Diego Ramirez effectually blocked the way to the north. At any moment the flying ship might crash into one of the bergs, so it was decided to heave to, thus lessening the danger of collision.