Reduced, too, to her topmasts, she had altogether a most forlorn and crippled appearance.  The sun had come up brightly; the snow was swept off the decks and ashes thrown upon them so that we could walk, for they had been as slippery as glass.  It was, of course, too cold to carry on any ship’s work, and we had only to walk the deck and keep ourselves warm.  The wind was still ahead, and the whole ocean, to the eastward, covered with islands and field-ice.  At four bells the order was given to square away the yards, and the man who came from the helm said that the captain had kept her off to N. N. E. What could this mean?  The wildest rumors got adrift.  Some said that he was going to put into Valparaiso and winter, and others that he was going to run out of the ice and cross the Pacific, and go home round the Cape of Good Hope.  Soon, however, it leaked out, and we found that we were running for the Straits of Magellan.  The news soon spread through the ship, and all tongues were at work talking about it.  No one on board had been through the straits; but I had in my chest an account of the passage of the ship A. J. Donelson, of New York, through those straits a few years before.  The account was given by the captain, and the representation was as favorable as possible.  It was soon read by every one on board, and various opinions pronounced.  The determination of our captain had at least this good effect; it gave us something to think and talk about, made a break in our life, and diverted our minds from the monotonous dreariness of the prospect before us.  Having made a fair wind of it, we were going off at a good rate, and leaving the thickest of the ice behind us.  This, at least, was something.

Having been long enough below to get my hands well warmed and softened, the first handling of the ropes was rather tough; but a few days hardened them, and as soon as I got my mouth open wide enough to take in a piece of salt beef and hard bread, I was all right again.

Sunday, July 10th.  Lat. 54 10’, lon. 79 07’.  This was our position at noon.  The sun was out bright; the ice was all left behind, and things had quite a cheering appearance.  We brought our wet pea-jackets and trousers on deck, and hung them up in the rigging, that the breeze and the few hours of sun might dry them a little; and, by leave of the cook, the galley was nearly filled with stockings and mittens, hung round to be dried.  Boots, too, were brought up; and, having got a little tar and slush from below, we gave them thick coats.  After dinner all hands were turned-to, to get the anchors over the bows, bend on the chains, &c.  The fish-tackle was got up, fish-davit rigged out, and, after two or three hours of hard and cold work, both the anchors were ready for instant use, a couple of kedges got up, a hawser coiled away upon the fore-hatch, and the deep-sea-lead-line overhauled and made ready.  Our spirits returned with having something to do; and when the tackle was manned to bowse the anchor