An island of ice turned turtle close to Hudson’s ship. There was an avalanche of falling seas. “_Into the ice we put for safety_,” says the record. “_Some of our men fell sick. I will not say it was for fear, though I saw small sign of other grief._” Just westward lay a great open passage—now known as Hudson Strait, so the island in Ungava Bay was called _Desire Provoked_. Plainly, they could not remain anchored here, for between bergs they were in danger of a crush, and the drift might carry them on any of the rock reefs that rib the bay. Juet, the old mate, raged against the madness of venturing such a sea. Henry Greene, a penniless blackguard, whom Hudson had picked off the streets of London to act as secretary—now played the tale-bearer, fomenting trouble between master and crew. “Our master,” says Prickett, one of Digges’ servants who was on board, “was in despair.” Taking out his chart, Hudson called the crew to the cabin and showed them how they had come farther than any explorer had yet dared. He put it plainly to them—would they go on, or turn back? Let them decide once and for all; no repinings! There, on the west, was the passage they had been seeking. It might lead to the South Sea. There, to the east, the way home. On both sides was equal danger—ice. To the west, was land. They could see that from the masthead. To the east, between them and home, the width of the ocean. The crew were divided, but the ice would not wait for arguments and see-sawings. It was crushing in on each side of _The Discovery_ with an ominous jar of the timbers. All hands were mustered out. By the usual devices in such emergencies—by blowing up the ice at the prow, towing away obstructions, rowing with the ship in tow, all fenders down to protect the sides, the steel-shod poles prodding off the icebergs—_The Discovery_ was hauled to open water. Then, as if it were the very sign that the crew needed—water opened to the west! There came a spurt of wind. _The Discovery_ spread her sails to the breeze and carried the vacillating crew forward. For a week they had lain imprisoned. By the 11th of July they were in Hudson Straits on the north side and had anchored at Baffin’s Land, which Hudson named _God’s Mercy_.