The riches which the Indian trade had poured into the lap of Venice, and which at a later period fell to the share of the Portuguese, formed the chief incitement to the great maritime discoveries which illustrated the end of the fifteenth and the first half of the sixteenth century.

The hope to discover a new road to India had not only animated the Portuguese navigators, but also led Columbus and Cabot across the Atlantic. It caused the unfortunate Cortereal to sail into the Gulf of St. Lawrence, induced Juan de Solis to penetrate into the mouth of the Rio de la Plata, and was finally the chief end and aim of the wondrous expedition of Magellan. The time is now come when the barriers of the Pacific are to fall, but before crossing its vast bosom with the illustrious navigator who first traversed it from end to end, I shall detain the reader a few moments on the shores of the Gulf of Darien, where the wretched remains of the colony of Santa Maria el Antigua, founded by Ojeda in 1509, had, after the departure of that unfortunate adventurer, freely elected Vasco NuÑez de Balboa to be their governor. This great man, who would have emulated the fame of a Cortez or Pizarro if his good fortune had been equal to his merit, omitted no opportunity of justifying the choice of his comrades by the unremitting zeal he displayed for their welfare. Making up for the scantiness of his resources by unceasing activity, he subdued the neighbouring caciques, and collected a great quantity of gold, which abounded more in that part of the continent than in the islands.

It happened during one of his frequent excursions that a young Cacique, witnessing a very angry dispute among the Spaniards about a few grains of gold, asked them in a contemptuous tone why they quarrelled about such a trifle; and added, that, if they set such an exorbitant value upon a metal comparatively worthless in his eyes, he could gratify their utmost wishes by pointing out to them a land where gold was so plentiful that even common utensils were made of it. And when Balboa eagerly asked where that happy country was situated, "Six days' journey to the south," was the answer, "will bring you to another ocean along whose coast it lies!"

This was the first time the Spaniards ever heard of the Pacific and of gold-teeming Peru, and the intelligence was well calculated to inflame the enterprising spirit of their leader. Balboa immediately concluded that this sea must be that which Columbus and so many other navigators had vainly sought for, and that its discovery would beyond all doubt open the way to India, which, according to the geographical error of the times, was supposed to be far less distant from America than it really is.

The most brilliant prospects rose before his fancy, and he would immediately have gone forth to realise them, if prudence had not warned him first to provide all the means necessary to insure success. He therefore endeavoured before all to gain the good-will of the neighbouring Indian chiefs, and sent some trustworthy agents to Hispaniola with a considerable quantity of gold, whereby many adventurers were induced to flock to his standard. Having thus reinforced himself, he thought he might now safely undertake his important expedition.

The Isthmus of Darien, over which he had to force his way, is not above sixty miles broad, but this short distance was rendered difficult, or rather impervious, by the innumerable obstacles of a tropical wilderness. The high mountains running along the neck of land were covered with dense forests, and the low grounds beneath filled with deep swamps, from which arose exhalations deadly to a European constitution. Wild torrents rushed down the ravines, and often forced them to retrace their steps. A march through a country like this, thinly peopled by a few savages, and without any other guides than some Indians of doubtful fidelity, was an enterprise worthy of all the energies of a Balboa.

On the 1st of September, 1513, after the end of the rainy season, he set out with a small but well chosen band of 190 Spaniards, accompanied by 1000 Indian carriers. As long as he remained on the territories of the friendly Caciques his progress was comparatively easy, but scarce had he penetrated into the interior, when, besides the almost invincible obstacles of nature—forests, swamps, and swollen torrents,—he had to encounter the deadly enmity of the Indians. As he approached, some of the Caciques fled to the mountains, after having destroyed or carried along with them all that might have been of use to the hated strangers; while others, of more determined hostility, opposed his progress by force of arms. Although the Spaniards had been led to expect that a six days' march would bring them to their journey's end, they had already spent no less than twenty-five days in forcing their way through the wilderness, amidst incessant attacks and hardships. The greater part of them were rapidly giving way under fatigues almost surpassing the limits of mortal endurance, and even the strongest felt that they could not hold out much longer. But Balboa, ever the foremost to face danger or difficulty, whose spirits no reverse could damp, and whose fiery eloquence painted in glowing colours the glorious reward of their present privations, knew how to inspire his men with his own unconquerable spirit, so that without a murmur they kept toiling on through swamp and forest. At length the Indian guides pointed out to them a mountain-crest from which they promised them the view of the longed-for ocean. Filled with new ardour they climbed up the steep ascent, but before they reached the summit Balboa ordered them to halt, that he might be the first to enjoy the glorious prospect. As soon as he saw the Pacific stretch out in endless majesty along the verge of the distant horizon, he fell on his knees and poured forth his rapturous thanks to heaven for having awarded him so grand a discovery. And now also his impatient companions hurried on, and soon the primeval forest—accustomed only to the howlings of the brute or the eagle's scream—resounded with the loud exclamations of their astonishment, gratitude, and joy.

It was from the small mountain-chain of Quarequa, on the 25th of September, 1513, that the Spaniards first saw the sea-horizon, but they had still several days to march before they reached the Gulf of San Miguel. Here Alonzo Martin de Don Benito was the first white man that ever floated in a canoe on the Eastern Pacific, even before Balboa, armed with sword and shield, descended into the water to take possession of the newly discovered ocean in the name of the king his master.

Although the subsequent fortunes of this great man are foreign to my subject, yet it may not be uninteresting to the reader to be informed how his important services were requited. Unfortunately the ingratitude of the Spanish court, which so scandalously embittered the declining years of Columbus and Cortez, reached its lowest depth in the case of Balboa. Those great men had at least in the beginning enjoyed some show of favour, but the discoverer of the Pacific was treated throughout with the basest indignity. The governorship of Darien, to which his splendid achievements had given him so undeniable a claim, was conferred upon a certain Pedrarias Davila, a wretch who, after having persecuted and thwarted the hero in every possible way, caused him at length to be beheaded, under a false accusation of high treason.

Six years after Balboa had first seen the Pacific, two years after his execution, Ferdinand of Magellan made his appearance in that great ocean. A Portuguese of noble birth, this eminent navigator had served with distinction under Albuquerque, the conqueror of Malacca. His plan of seeking a new road to India across the Atlantic being but coldly received in his native country, he transferred his services to Spain, where his distinguished merit found better judges in Cardinal Ximenes, and his youthful master, Charles V. With five ships, the largest of which did not carry more than 120 tons, and with a crew of 236 men, partly the sweepings of the jails, he sailed on the 20th of September, 1519, from the port of San Lucar, and spent the following summer (the winter of the southern hemisphere) on the dreary coast of Patagonia. In this uncomfortable station he lost one of his squadron; and the Spaniards suffered so much from the excessive rigour of the climate, that the crews of three of his ships, headed by their officers, rose in open mutiny, and insisted on relinquishing the visionary project of a desperate adventurer, and returning directly to Spain. This dangerous insurrection Magellan suppressed by an effort of courage no less prompt than intrepid, and inflicted exemplary punishment on the ringleaders.

He now continued his journey to the south, and reached, near 53° south lat., the celebrated straits which bear his name. Here again he had to exert his full authority to induce his reluctant followers to accompany him into the unknown channel that was to lead them to an equally unknown ocean. One of his ships immediately deserted him and returned to Europe, but the others remained true to their commander, and, after having spent twenty days in winding through those dangerous straits, they at last, on the 27th of November, 1521, emerged into the open ocean, the sight of which amply repaid Magellan for all the anxieties and troubles he had undergone. They now pursued their way across the wide expanse of waters, of whose enormous extent they had no conception, and soon had to endure all the miseries of hunger and disease. But the continuous beauty of the weather, and the steady easterly wind, which, swelling the sails of Magellan, drove him straight onwards to the goal, kept up his courage; and induced him to give to the ocean which greeted him with such a friendly welcome the name of the Pacific, which it still, though undeservedly, retains. During three months and twenty days he sailed to the north-west, and, by a singular mischance, without seeing any land in those isle-teeming seas, except only two uninhabited rocks which he called the "Desventuradas," or the "Wretched." At last, after the longest journey ever made by man through the deserts of the ocean, he discovered the small but fruitful group of the Ladrones (March 6, 1521), which afforded him refreshments in such abundance, that the vigour and health of his emaciated crew was soon reestablished. From these isles, to which his gratitude might have given a more friendly name, he proceeded on his voyage, and soon made the more important discovery of the islands now known as the Philippines. In one of these he got into an unfortunate quarrel with the natives, who attacked him in great numbers and well-armed; and, while he fought at the head of his men with his usual valour, he fell by the hands of those barbarians, together with several of his principal officers.

Thus Magellan lost the glory of accomplishing the first circumnavigation of the globe; the performance of which now fell to the share of his companion, Sebastian El Cano, who returned to San Lucar in the "Victoria" by the Cape of Good Hope, having sailed round the globe in the space of three years and twenty-eight days.

But although Magellan did not live fully to achieve his glorious undertaking, the astonishing perseverance and ability with which he performed the chief and most difficult part of his arduous task have secured him an immortal renown. Nor has posterity been unmindful of his services, having awarded his name an imperishable place in the memory of man, both in the straits, the portal of his grand discovery, and in the "Magellanic clouds," those dense clusters of stars and nebulÆ which so beautifully stud the firmament of the southern hemisphere.

After Magellan, Pizarro, the conqueror of Peru, shines as a discoverer in the South Sea. The history of his memorable feats by land does not belong to this narrative, but I may well accompany him on his adventurous navigation along the unknown coast of South America, and relate the hardships he had to endure before he was enabled to reap the rewards of victory.

Soon after the execution, or rather the murder, of Balboa, Pedrarias Davila obtained permission to transfer the colony of Darien to Panama, which, although equally unhealthy, yet from its situation on the Pacific afforded greater facilities for the prosecution of discovery on the south-west coast, to which now all the hopes and plans of the Spanish gold-seekers were directed. Several expeditions left the new colony in rapid succession, but all proved unsuccessful. Their timorous leaders, none of whom had ventured beyond the dreary coasts of Tierra firme, gave such dismal accounts of their hardships and the wretched aspect of the countries they had seen, that the ardour for discovery was considerably damped, and the opinion began to gain ground that Balboa must have founded chimerical hopes on the idle tales of an ignorant or deceitful savage.

But there were three men in Panama, Francisco Pizarro, Diego de Almagro, and Hernando Luque, who, far from sharing the general opinion, remained fully determined to seek the unknown gold-land. Pizarro and Almagro were soldiers, Luque was a priest. They formed an association approved of by the governor, each agreeing to devote all his energies to the common interest. Pizarro, the poorest of the three, took upon himself the greater part of the hardships and dangers of the enterprise, and volunteered to command the first expedition that should be fitted out; Almagro engaged to follow him with the necessary reinforcements; and Luque, the man of peace, promised to watch in Panama over the interests of the association.

On the 14th of November, 1524, Pizarro sailed from Panama with 112 men, closely packed together in one small vessel. Unfortunately he had chosen the worst season of the year for his departure, as the periodical winds raging at the time blew quite contrary to the course he intended to pursue, and thus it happened that after seventy days he had advanced no farther to the south-east than an experienced navigator will now traverse in as many hours. During this tedious journey he landed in different parts of the coast of Tierra firme, but, finding all the previous descriptions of its inhospitable nature fully confirmed, he saw himself obliged to await the promised reinforcements in Chuchama, opposite to the Pearl Islands. Here he was soon joined by Almagro, who had suffered similar hardships, and moreover lost an eye in a fight with the Indians. But, as he had advanced farther to the south, where the country and people wore a more favourable aspect, this slight glimpse of hope encouraged the adventurers to persevere in spite of all the miseries they had endured. Almagro returned to Panama, where with the greatest difficulty he could levy fourscore men, his sufferings and those of his companions having given his countrymen a very unfavourable idea of the service.

With this small reinforcement the associates did not hesitate to renew their enterprise, and at length, after a passage no less tedious than the first, reached the Bay of Saint Matthew on the coast of Quito (1526). In Tecumez, to the south of the Emerald River, they were delighted with the aspect of a fine well-cultivated country, inhabited by a people whose clothing and dwellings indicated a higher degree of civilisation and wealth. But, not venturing to attempt its conquest with a handful of men enfeebled by fatigue and disease, they retired to the small island of Gallo, where Pizarro waited, while Almagro once more returned to Panama, hoping that the better accounts he could give of their second journey would procure reinforcements large enough for the conquest of the newly discovered countries.

But the new governor of Panama, Pedro de los Rios, interdicted all further volunteering for an enterprise he considered chimerical, and even sent a vessel to the island of Gallo to bring back Pizarro and his companions. The associates, on the other hand, were less inclined than ever to give up their enterprise, now that better prospects had opened, so that Pizarro peremptorily refused to obey the governor's commands, and used all his eloquence in persuading his men not to abandon him. But the hardships they had endured, and the prospect of soon revisiting their families and friends, pleaded so strongly against him, that when he drew a line with his sword upon the sand, and told those that wished to leave him to pass over it, only thirteen of his veterans remained true to his fortunes.

With this select band of heroes Pizarro now retired to the desert island of Gorgona, where, as it lay further from the coast, he could await with greater security the reinforcements which he trusted the zeal of his associates would soon be able to procure. Nor was he deceived, for Almagro and Luque, by their repeated solicitations, at length prevailed upon the governor to send out a small vessel to his assistance, though without one landsman on board, that he might not be encouraged to any new enterprise. Meanwhile Pizarro and his faithful "thirteen" had spent five long months on their wretched island, their eyes constantly turned to the north, until, heart-sick and despairing from hope deferred, they resolved to intrust themselves to the inconstant waves upon a miserable raft, rather than remain any longer in that dreadful wilderness. But now at last the vessel from Panama appeared, and raised them so thoroughly from the deepest despondency to the most extravagant hopes, that Pizarro easily induced not only his old friends, but also the crew of the vessel, to sail farther to the south instead of returning at once to Panama.

This time the winds were favourable, and after a voyage of twenty days they at length reached the town of Tumbez on the coast of Peru, where the magnificent temple of the sun and the palace of the Incas, with its costly golden vases, exceeded their most sanguine expectations. But once more Pizarro, too weak to attempt invasion, was obliged to content himself with the view of the riches he one day hoped to possess, and returned to Panama after an absence of three years.

Amidst interminable delays and difficulties, which, although not to be compared to those he had endured, would still have totally discouraged a mind of a less iron mould, five years more elapsed before the matchless perseverance of Pizarro met with its reward. On the 14th of April, 1531, he landed in Peru for the second time, and in a few months the empire of the Incas lay prostrate at his feet. The poor adventurer of Gorgona was now one of the richest men on earth.

From this time the stream of conquest and discovery continuously rolled on to the south, so that after a few years the whole coast of Peru and Chili, as far as the wilds of Patagonia, was either known or subject to the Spaniards.

But while Pizarro and his comrades were thus opening the south-west coast of America to the knowledge of mankind, the conqueror of Mexico was no less anxious to add to his laurels the glory of discovery in the Northern Pacific, whose shores his warriors had reached in 1521, soon after the fall of the Aztec capital. Desirous of opening a new passage to the East Indies, he fitted out a fleet (1526), which, under the command of his kinsman Alvaro de Saavedra, was to sail to the Moluccas, and most likely discovered part of the Radack and Ralick Archipelago, visited and described three centuries later by Kotzebue and Chamisso.

In the year 1536 Cortez himself undertook a maritime expedition to the north, discovered the peninsula of California, and explored the greater part of the long and narrow bay which separates it from the mainland. After the return of this great man to Spain, where, loaded with ingratitude, he died in 1547, Rodriguez Cabrillo (1543) sailed as far as Monterey, and subsequently the pilot of the expedition, Bartholomew Ferreto, reached 43° N. lat., where Vancouver's Cape Oxford is situated.

In the year 1542 Villalobos made the first attempt to establish a colony on the Philippine Islands with settlers from Mexico, but, having failed, the colonisation did not take place before 1565. The intelligence of this success was brought to America by the pilot and monk, Fray Andreas Urdaneta, who sailed on the 1st of June from Manilla and arrived on the 3rd of October in the Mexican port of Acapulco. All previous attempts to sail from Asia to America had failed, on account of the opposing trade-winds; but Urdaneta sailed northward till he encountered the favourable west wind, which carried him to the New World across the wide bosom of the Pacific. The discovery of this new ocean route was of considerable importance to the Spaniards, and, to perpetuate the memory of Urdaneta's nautical ability, they continued to call the passage by his name.

About the same time another Spanish pilot, Juan Fernandez, discovered the proper sea route from Callao to Chili, by first sailing far out to sea, and thus avoiding the coast-currents from the south. He also discovered the island which still bears his name, and has become so celebrated by the adventures of Alexander Selkirk, and the immortal tale of Daniel Defoe.

In the year 1567 an expedition sailed from Callao under Alvaro Mendana, which discovered the Solomon Islands; and in 1595 the group of the Marquesas de Mendoza was first brought to light by the same navigator. Before the last expedition of Mendana, Drake, the first circumnavigator of the globe (1577-1580) after Magellan and El Cano, penetrated into the Pacific, by rounding Cape Horn, and subsequently discovered the coasts of New Albion as far as 48° N. lat.

After having thus rapidly followed the course of the discoveries which during the sixteenth century made Europe acquainted with the whole western coast of America, from Cape Pillares in Tierra del Fuego to the mouth of the Columbia River, I return to the Indian Ocean, where in the beginning of the century we left the Portuguese in the full bloom of their power, and, to judge by the progress already made, likely to add largely to the stock of geographical knowledge. But whether the masters of the Indian Ocean had no desire to extend still farther the circle of their conquests, or the fiery spirit of enterprise which had animated Vasco de Gama and Diaz was prematurely extinguished, the discoveries of the Portuguese in the Pacific by no means corresponded to the gigantic flight which in less than a quarter of a century had led them from Cape de Verde to the extremity of the Malayan Archipelago. New Guinea was indeed discovered by Don Jorge de Menezes (1526) and Alvaro de Saavedra (1528), and some old maps prove that before 1542 a part of the coast of New Holland was known to the Portuguese, who had penetrated to the north as far as Formosa and Japan, yet at the end of the sixteenth century the western boundaries of the Pacific were only known from 40° N. lat. to 10° S. lat., and all beyond was enveloped in darkness. As little was known of the innumerable South Sea islands, for although some of the groups had been seen or visited by the Spaniards, their existence was kept secret lest other seafaring nations should be tempted to explore the wastes of the Pacific.

I have already mentioned that the desire to find a shorter route to the wealth of India was the chief inducement which led to the discoveries of Vasco de Gama, Columbus, and Magellan; this same motive also called forth the first attempts of the Dutch and English to find a northern passage to the southern seas.

In the year 1553 Sir Hugh Willoughby and Chancellor left England on their memorable voyage of Arctic discovery, and steered to the north-east. In a stormy night they parted company, never to meet again. For a long time nothing was heard of Willoughby, until some Russian sailors found on the dreary coast of Lapland two wrecks tenanted only by the dead. A note, dated January 1554, proved that then at least some of the unfortunate navigators were still alive; but this was the last and only memorial of the mysterious end of the first Britons that ever ventured into the frozen seas. Chancellor was more fortunate. After having for a long time been driven about by storms, he discovered the White Sea, and on landing heard for the first time of Russia and her sovereign the Czar Ivan Vasiliovitch, who resided in a great town called Moscow. This unknown potentate the indefatigable seaman resolved to visit in his capital, where he was graciously received, and obtained permission for his countrymen to frequent the port of Archangel. Soon after his return to England he was sent back to Russia by Queen Mary, for the purpose of settling the terms of a treaty of commerce between the two nations; and, having satisfactorily accomplished his mission, once more set sail from the White Sea, accompanied by a Muscovite ambassador. But this time the return voyage was extremely unfortunate; two of the ships, richly laden with Russian commodities, ran ashore on the coast of Norway, and Chancellor's own vessel was driven by a dreadful storm as far as Pitsligo in Scotland, in which bay it was wrecked. Chancellor endeavoured to save the ambassador and himself in a boat, but the small pinnace was upset, and, although the Russian reached the strand, the Englishman, after having escaped so many dangers in the Arctic Ocean, was doomed to an untimely end within sight of his native shores.

Twenty years afterwards, Martin Frobisher set sail with three small vessels of thirty-five, thirty, and ten tons, on no less an errand than the discovery of a north-west passage to Asia. With these wretched nut-shells he reached the coasts of Greenland and Labrador, but was prevented by the ice from effecting a landing.

This first voyage was little remarkable in itself, but its accidental results tended much to the advancement of northern research, for Frobisher brought home some glittering stones, the lustre of which was erroneously attributed to gold; a circumstance which, as may well be imagined, greatly contributed to pave the way for a second expedition to "Meta Incognita." This time Frobisher sailed with three ships, of a much larger size, that they might be able to hold more of the anticipated treasure; and, besides securing 200 tons of the imaginary gold, discovered the entrance of the strait which bears his name.

His geographical knowledge may be inferred from the fact that he firmly believed the land on one side of this channel to be Asia, and on the other America; and, though we may be tempted to smile at his ignorance, yet the lion-hearted seaman is not the less to be admired, who with such inadequate means ventured to brave the unknown terrors of the Frozen Ocean.

The gales and floating ice which greeted Frobisher as he endeavoured to force a passage through the strait put a stop to all farther progress to India; but, as the gold delusion still continued, the expedition was considered eminently successful. A large squadron of fifteen vessels was consequently fitted out for the summer of 1578, and commissioned not only to bring back an untold amount of treasure, but also to take out materials and men to establish a colony on those desolate shores.

But this grand expedition, which sailed forth with such extravagant hopes, was doomed to end in disappointment. One of the largest vessels was crushed by an iceberg at the entrance of the strait, and the others were so beaten about by storms and obstructed by fogs, that the whole summer elapsed, and they were fain to return to England without having done anything for the advancement of geographical knowledge.

The utter worthlessness of the glittering stones having meanwhile been discovered, Frobisher relinquished all further attempts to push his fortunes in the northern regions, and sought new laurels in a sunnier clime. He accompanied Drake to the West Indies, commanded subsequently one of the largest vessels opposed to the Spanish Armada, and ended his heroic life while attacking a small French fort on behalf of Henry IV., during the war with the League. He was one of those adventurous spirits always thirsting for action, and too uneasy ever to enjoy repose.

In the year 1585, John Davis, with the ships "Sunshine" and "Moonshine," carrying besides their more necessary equipments a band of music "to cheer and recreate the spirits of the natives," made his first voyage in quest of the north-west passage, and discovered the broad strait which leads into the icy deserts of Baffin's Bay. But neither in this attempt nor in his two following ones was he able to effect the object for which he strove; and these repeated failures cooled for a long time the national ardour for northern discovery.

In the year 1594 the Dutch appear upon the scene. This persevering and industrious people, which in the following century was destined to play so important a part in the politics of Europe, had just then succeeded in casting off the Spanish yoke, and was laudably endeavouring to gain by maritime enterprise a position among the neighbouring states, which the smallness of its territory seemed to deny to its ambition. All the known roads to the treasures of the south were at that time too well guarded by the jealous fleets of Spain and Portugal to admit of any rivalry; but, if fortune should favour them in finding the yet unexplored northern passage to India, they might still hope to secure a lion's share in that most lucrative of trades. Animated by the bold spirit of adventure which the dawn of independence always calls forth in a nation, a company of Amsterdam merchants fitted out an expedition of northern discovery, which it intrusted to the superintendence and pilotage of William Barentz, one of the most experienced seamen of the day.

Barentz left the Texel on the 6th of June, 1594, reached the northern extremity of Nova Zembla, and returned to Holland. Meanwhile his associate, penetrating through a strait to which he gave the very appropriate name of Waigats or "Wind-hole," battled against the floating ice of the Sea of Kara, until, rounding a promontory, he saw a blue and open sea extending before him, and the Russian coast trending away towards the south-east. He now no longer doubted that he had sailed round the famous cape "Tabis" of Pliny, an imaginary promontory which according to that erroneous guide formed the northern extremity of Asia, and whence the voyage was supposed to be short and easy to its eastern and southern shores. He had only reached the Gulf of Obi, and within the Arctic Circle the continent of Asia still stretched 120 degrees to the east; but this was then unknown, and the Dutchman, satisfied with the prospect of success, did not press onward to test its reality, but started in full sail for Holland, to rouse the sluggish fancy of his phlegmatic countrymen with chimerical hopes and golden visions.

On the receipt of this glad intelligence six large vessels were immediately fitted out, and richly laden with goods suited to the taste of the Indians. A small swift-sailing yacht was added to the squadron to bear it company as far as the imaginary promontory of Tabis, and thence to return with the good news that it had safely performed what was supposed to be the most perilous part of the voyage, and had been left steering with a favourable wind right off to India.

But, as may well be imagined, these sanguine hopes were destined to meet with a woeful disappointment, for the Wind-hole Strait, doing full justice to its name, did not allow them to pass; and, after many fruitless endeavours to force their way through the mighty ice-blocks that obstructed that inhospitable channel, they returned dejected and crest-fallen to the port whence they had sailed a few months before, elated with such brilliant expectations.

Although great disappointment was felt at this failure, the scheme however was not abandoned, and on the 16th of May, 1596, Heemskerk, Barentz, and Cornelis Ryp once more started for the north-east. Bear Island and Spitzbergen were discovered, whereupon the ships separated; Cornelis and Heemskerk returning to Holland, while Barentz, enclosed by the ice, was obliged to spend a long and dreary winter in the dreadful solitudes of Nova Zembla. Fortunately a quantity of drift-wood was found on the strand, which served the Dutchmen both for the construction of a small hut and for fuel. At the same time it raised their courage, as they now no longer doubted that Providence, which had sent them this unexpected succour in the wilderness, would guide them safely through all their difficulties. And indeed they stood in need of this consolatory belief, for as early as September the ground was frozen so hard that they tried in vain to dig a grave for a dead comrade, and their cramped fingers could hardly proceed with the building of the hut.

The attacks of the white bears also gave them great trouble. One day Barentz, from the deck of the vessel, seeing three bears stealthily approaching a party of his men who were labouring at the hut, shouted loudly to warn them of their peril, and the men, startled at the near approach of danger, sought safety in flight. One of the party, in his haste and perturbation, fell into a cleft in the ice; but the hungry animals fortunately overlooked him, and continued their pursuit of the main body. These gained the vessel and began to congratulate themselves on their safety, when, to their horror, they perceived that their foes, instead of retreating from a hopeless pursuit, were actually scaling the ship's sides, evidently determined to have their meal. Matters now became serious. One of the sailors was despatched for a light, but in his hurry and agitation could not get the match to take fire (Enfields and revolvers were then unknown), and the muskets being thus rendered useless, the sailors in despair kept their enemies off by pelting them with whatever articles came first to hand. This unequal conflict continued for some time, until a well-directed blow on the snout of the largest bear caused the barking[AB] monster to retire from the field followed by his two companions,

[AB] "I did not hear them roar as ours do, but they only bark."—Marten's Voyage to Spitzbergen.