So dense was the snow-mist that it was impossible to see the jibboom when standing close by the bowsprit. The drift blew suffocatingly along the upper deck of the Flora, and it was covered with an ice-glaze that, owing to the motion of the vessel, made walking a business of the greatest difficulty.
The vessel was driven northwards till she found herself close to an immense ice-floe, and to this they determined to make fast.
Anchors were at once got out, therefore, and landed and secured.
The motion was somewhat less after that.
What was most to be dreaded was a squeeze, for if any of those huge crystalline bergs were to rush them alongside, poor indeed would be their hopes of being saved. Indeed the vessel, strong as she was, would be crushed, as one may crush an egg-shell.
All hands were now called to endeavour, if possible, to make her more secure.
By and by the wind lulled somewhat, and the atmosphere cleared.
It would only be temporary, however, and well Captain Talbot knew it.
But they had now a chance of noting their position, and a dangerous one it was. The open water was getting narrower and narrower, so it was determined to seek for the safest ice. This was some pancake that lay to the north of them, so, just sufficient sail was got up to enable the ship to reach it.
This she did with safety so far, but the storm came on again with all its force, and with such fury, that it was found impossible to dock her.