My fear now was that the schooner would fall over on her side, or that the masses which rose above the bulwarks would topple over upon the deck, and bury us beneath them. We lay in this position during eight anxious hours. At length the crash ceased with a change of wind and tide. The ice exhibited signs of relaxing. The course of the monster floes which were crowding down the Sound was changed more to the westward. We beheld the prospect of release with joy. [Sidenote: THE SCHOONER IN DANGER.] Small patches of open water were here and there exhibited among the hitherto closely impacted ice. The change of scene, though less fearful, was not less magical than before. By and by the movement extended to the floes which bound us so uncomfortably, and with the first cessation of the pressure the blocks of ice which supported the forward part of the schooner gave way, and, the bows following them, left the stern high in the air. Here we rested for a few moments quietly, and then the old scene was renewed. The further edge of the outer floe which held us was caught by another moving field of greater size, when the jam returned, and we appeared to be in as great danger as before; but this attack was of short duration. The floe revolved, and, the pressure being almost instantly removed, we fell into the water, reeling forward and backward and from side to side, as the ice, seeking its own equilibrium, settled headlong and in wild confusion beneath us from its forced elevation. Freed from this novel and alarming situation, we used every available means to disengage ourselves from the ruins of the frightful battle which we had encountered; and, as speedily as possible, got into a position of greater safety. Meanwhile an inspection was made to ascertain what damage had been done to the schooner. The hold was rapidly filling with water, the rudder was split, two of its pintles were broken off, the stern-post was started, fragments of the cut-water and keel were floating alongside of us in the sea, and, to all appearances, we were in a sinking condition. Our first duty was to man the pumps. [Sidenote: THE SCHOONER CRIPPLED.] We were many hours among the ice, tortured with doubt and uncertainty. We had to move with great caution. The crippled condition of the schooner warned us to use her gently. She would bear no more thumps. Forward we could not go, because of the ice; retreat we must, for it was absolutely necessary that we should get to the land and find shelter somewhere. The rudder was no longer available, and we were obliged to steer with a long "sweep." The wind hauled more and more to the eastward, and spread the ice. Although at times closely beset and once severely "nipped," yet, by watching our opportunity, we crept slowly out of the pack, and, after twenty anxious hours, got at last into comparatively clear water, and headed for Hartstene Bay, where we found an anchorage.