feet in width allowed her to enter a little distance, which gradually was increased by stopping and starting, crowding when it was safe or anything like it, until we found ourselves free. But the mist continuing dense we did not know whether we were really free or only in a narrow lane. Watching the compass and constantly taking soundings, we traced the edge of the pack and finally made our escape. In a few hours the fog lifted and though the barometer had been threatening a gale to add to our disquiet, the sun shone and the weather became promising. Five or 6 miles below the Indian Village we discovered the wrecked Loleta, and making towards [it] anchored in 4 fathoms of water near the edge of the ice, and went ashore to examine the ru...