17th June.—We are surrounded again by a thick fog. The syren was blowing all the time. We are in the season of icebergs floating from the Arctic Ocean. About six o’clock in the morning the cabin-steward rapped sharply at the door of our cabin, warning us that there were icebergs in view. I hastened on deck, but the fog was so dense that I couldn’t see two steps before me. Besides icebergs there are sandbanks to be avoided in these parts, and the steersman’s eye, accustomed to pierce sea-fogs, searched in the darkness; he signalled an iceberg, but I strained my eyes uselessly, when suddenly a gust of wind broke the mist, and we saw a huge mass floating quite close to us.
Towards evening a passing ship signalled to us that there was a great number of icebergs on the way. We were passing now a place called “Devil’s Hole,” where all the winds meet. The sea was very high and the Bourgogne shook and cracked as if it was going to fall to pieces.
18th June.—Again the whole night the syren never ceased blowing. At dawn I was wakened by a formidable noise. I heard footsteps of men running down the deck and the captain’s voice roaring out orders to the crew. It appeared that we were in imminent danger, having nearly run into an iceberg three times the size of our ship. If our captain had not been on the bridge at that moment, we should all have perished.
The provisions on board are nearly out, the milk is watered to an atrocious degree, and at breakfast I swallowed, with a grimace, a cup of weak broth instead of tea or coffee. We are fed now on mutton—mutton at luncheon, mutton at dinner. However good the mutton is, one feels towards the end of the week that a change should be welcome.
Every day we put our watches fifty minutes back, the time therefore seems to wile away still longer.
19th June.—Seven pilots have left New York yesterday in fishing-smacks to meet the Bourgogne. The pilot who would climb on board first was to receive the sum of 200 dollars. The passengers held wagers, and sweepstakes at five dollars each, had been started among the first-class passengers. One of them gained the sum of 120 dollars on the pilot No. 5, whom we had picked up first. Other pilots appeared after him, but they were told by signals that their services were not required.
20th June.—The sea is very calm to-day, not a breath of air ripples the surface of the ocean. Every morning the passengers look over the map on which our route is marked by small flags. This morning I was awfully happy to see that there was but a short distance left to New York.
After lunch a slight breeze arose, swelling out the sails and making us advance at the rate of twelve knots an hour. To-night the musical talents of the passengers manifested themselves for the first time on board. The commissaire played the flute and the second officer sang love ditties. I remained till late on deck, admiring the sea lighted by a magnificent moonshine. Suddenly I heard a shrill scream, and one of the lady-passengers ran up to me in her night-gown, shouting for help. It appeared that an enormous rat had been promenading over her during her sleep.
21st June.—To-day the dinner was excellent; we had awfully good things to eat and champagne gratis. The chef had surpassed himself in tarts and all sorts of dainties in honour of our last night on board.