‘injin,’ as it is usually termed in American parlance, an entire barrel of pickled cucumbers, another about half full of cabbage preserved in the same way, and an entire barrel of molasses.  In addition, there was a cask of whiskey, a little wine and brandy to be used medicinally, sugar, brown, whitey-brown and browny-white, and a pretty fair allowance of tea and coffee; the former being a Hyson-skin, and the latter San Domingo of no very high quality.  Most of these articles were transported from the wreck to the house, in the course of the few days that succeeded, though Daggett insisted on a certain portion of the supplies being left in his stranded craft.  Not until this was done would Roswell listen to any proposal of Daggett’s to transfer the skins.  Twice during these few days, indeed, did the Vineyard master come to a pause in his proceedings, as the weather grew milder, and gleams of a hope of being able yet to get away that season crossed his mind.  On the last of these occasions of misgiving, Roswell was compelled to lead his brother master up on the plain of the island, to an elevation of some three hundred feet above the level of the ocean, and more than half that distance higher than the house, and point out to him a panorama of field-ice that the eye could not command.  Until that vast plain opened, or became riven by the joint action of the agitated ocean and the warmth of a sun from which the rays did not glance away from the frozen surface, like light obliquely received, and as obliquely reflected from a mirror, it was useless to think of releasing even the uninjured vessel; much less that which lay riven and crushed on the rocks.

“Were every cake of this ice melted into water, Daggett,” Roswell continued, “it would not float off your schooner.  The best supplied ship-yard in America could hardly furnish the materials for ways to launch her; and I never knew of a vessel’s being dropped into the water some twenty feet nearly perpendicular.”

“I don’t know that,” answered Daggett, stoutly.  “See what they’re doing now-a-days, and think nothing of it.  I have seen a whole row of brick houses turned round by the use of jack-screws; and one building actually taken down a hill much higher than the distance you name.  Commodore Rodgers has just hauled a heavy frigate out of the water, and means to put her back again, when he has done with her.  What has been done once can be done twice.  I do not like giving up ’till I’m forced to it.”

“That is plain enough, Captain Daggett,” returned Roswell, smiling.  “That you are game, no one can deny; but it will all come to nothing.  Neither Commodore Rodgers nor Commodore anybody else could put your craft into the water again without something to do it with.”

“You think it would be asking too much to take your schooner, and go across to the main next season a’ter timber to make ways?” put in Daggett, inquiringly.  “She stands up like a church, and nothing would be easier than to lay down ways under her bottom.”