Being south of this land, he fell into a current setting westwardly, which he followed, but was in constant danger from the ice.  One day, an enormous mountain of ice turned over near the ship, but fortunately without touching it.  This served as a warning to keep at a distance from these masses, to prevent the ship from being crushed by them.  He encountered a severe storm, which brought the ice so thick about the ship, that he judged it best to run her among the largest masses, and there let her lie.  In this situation, says the journalist, “some of our men fell sick; I will not say it was of fear, although I saw small sign of other grief.”  As soon as the storm abated, Hudson endeavoured to extricate himself from the ice.  Wherever any open space appeared, he directed his course, sailing in almost every direction; but the longer he contended with the ice, the more completely did he seem to be enclosed, till at last he could go no further.  The ship seemed to be hemmed in on every side, and in danger of being soon closely wedged, so as to be immovable.  In this perilous situation, even the stout heart of Hudson almost yielded to the feeling of despair; and, as he afterwards confessed to one of the men, he thought he should never escape from the ice, but that he was doomed to perish there.

He did not, however, allow his crew, at the time, to be aware what his apprehensions really were; but, assembling them all around him, he brought out his chart, and showed them that they had advanced in this direction a hundred leagues further than any Englishman had done before; and gave them their choice whether to proceed, or to return home.  The men could come to no agreement; some were in favor of returning, others were for pushing forward.  This was probably what Hudson expected; the men were mutinous, and yet knew not what they wanted themselves.  Having fairly convinced them of this, it was easier to set them at work to extricate the ship from her immediate danger.  After much time and labor, they made room to turn the ship round, and then by little and little they worked their way along for a league or two, when they found a clear sea.

The scene which has just been described, seems indeed a subject worthy of the talents of a skilful painter.  The fancy of the artist would represent the dreary and frightful appearance of the ice-covered sea, stretching away as far as the eye could reach, a bleak and boundless waste; the dark and broken clouds driving across the fitful sky; the ship motionless amidst the islands and mountains of ice, her shrouds and sails being fringed and stiffened with the frozen spray.  On the deck would appear the form of Hudson himself, displaying the chart to his men; his countenance careworn and sad, but still concealing, under the appearance of calmness and indifference, the apprehensions and forebodings, which harrowed his mind.  About him would be seen the rude and ruffian-like men; some examining the chart with eager curiosity, some glaring on their commander with eyes of hatred and vengeance, and expressing in their looks those murderous intentions, which they at last so fatally executed.