At the conclusion of the day's labour on the 19th, we had every prospect of getting to sea in forty-eight hours more; but, early on the following morning, when the ebb or northeasterly tide had made, and was assisted by a breeze from the southward, the whole body of sea-ice came forcibly in contact with the bay-floe, which was now so weakened by our cutting as to split the whole way from the edge up to the Hecla's stern, a little to the westward of the canal, the latter being almost immediately closed with a considerable crush, but without affecting the ships which lay beyond it. The closing of our artificial canal had the effect of partially opening a natural one at the place where the ice had just been detached; but, as this was incomplete, coming gradually up to a point astern of the Hecla, we were at a loss to know on which of the two our labour would best be employed. An attempt was first made by four strong purchases, stretched from side to side across the new crack, to pull the parts together again, and thus to leave our original canal in statu quo. All our power, however, being insufficient to accomplish this, we commenced with the saws upon the upper part of the crack, with the intention of widening it sufficiently for the passage of the ships. In this work we had made considerable progress, when, towards evening, it was perceived that this was now closing, and our former canal reopening by the action of the wind and tide. Relinquishing our last attempt, therefore, we lost no time in floating some heavy pieces of ice into the canal, to serve as wedges for keeping the sides apart, in case of any fresh pressure from without again disposing them to close.
At two A.M. on the 21st, the piece of the floe which formed the separation between the two canals drifted bodily outward, as far as the rocks at the mouth of the bay and the ice that lay upon them would permit, taking with it a heavy-grounded mass that lay near the Hecla, and on which it had before been turning as on a pile or pivot; shortly after a second mass on the eastern side of the canal broke off, the separation taking place upon the line where the ice had been weakened by the sand we had laid upon it. Our work was now at an end, and we had only to wait for a northerly or westerly wind to release us from our present "besetment," for, in fact, it was now nothing more. Directions were therefore given for closely watching the motion of the ice, both from the ships as well as by regular visits to the shore at the end of every watch.
It now becomes my painful duty to turn from these busy occupations, where animation, cheerfulness, and hope prevailed, to the sad and solemn scenes of sickness and death; for with both of these did it please the Almighty to visit us at this period! William Souter, quartermaster of the Fury, who, in the early part of this week, had complained of a slight sickness at the stomach, and, having been quite relieved, was, in consequence, discharged to duty, was again, on the morning of the 21st, affected in a similar manner while on deck. On the 24th, his alarming symptoms had so much subsided, that increasing hopes were entertained of his continuing to do well. These flattering appearances, however, received a sudden check about noon on the 25th, after which time he began rapidly, though gradually, to droop, and between six and seven in the evening breathed his last.
The impossibility of removing Souter from the sick bay, after the last alarming change took place, rendered his death, or, rather, the convulsive struggles which for some hours preceded that event, a dreadful trial to poor Reid, whose state had for some time past been scarcely better, the difficulty in his breathing having increased to a most distressing degree. When Souter was dying, Reid remarked that he should not be long after him; and on the 26th, when Mr. Fisher had attended and prayed with him, he said that he should go at one bell (half past six), and then enumerated all his clothes to one of the men, who, at his request, wrote them down for him. After four o'clock he did not speak, and, gradually sinking, expired at the time he had mentioned.
On the 28th, the remains of our deceased shipmates were committed to the earth, with every solemnity that so mournful an occasion demanded. They were interred in one grave, on a rising ground a few hundred yards from the sea to the northeastward of the ships. A handsome tomb of stone and mortar was built over the spot, having at one end a stone let in, with the usual information engraved on it. The sides were plastered with a kind of viscous clay found in one of the ponds, and the top covered with tufts of the purple saxifrage. The duties of the ships now permitting it, Captain Lyon employed his men in building a similar tomb over the grave of Pringle.