Islands probably separate this well-known channel from Frobisher Strait to the north of it, yet unexplored.

Here let us recall to mind the fleet of fifteen sail, under Sir Martin Frobisher, in 1578, tossing about and parting company among the ice.

Let us remember how the crew of the _Anne Frances_, in that expedition, built a pinnace when their vessel struck upon a rock, stock, although they wanted main timber and nails.

How they made a mimic forge, and "for the easier making of nails, were forced to break their tongs, gridiron, and fire-shovel, in pieces." How Master Captain Best, in this frail bark, with its imperfect timbers held together by the metamorphosed gridiron and fire-shovel, continued in his duty, and did depart up the straights as before was pretended." How a terrific storm arose, and the fleet parted and the intrepid captain was towed "in his small pinnesse, at the stern of the _Michael_, thorow the raging seas; for the bark was not able to receive, or relieve half his company." The "tongs, gridyron, and fire-shovell," performed their work only for as many minutes as were absolutely necessary, for the pinnesse came no sooner aboard the ship, and the men entred, but she presently shivered and fell in pieces, and sunke at the ship's stern with all the poor men's furniture." Now, too, as we sail up the strait, explored a few years after these events by Master John Davis, how proudly we remember him as a right worthy forerunner of those countrymen of his and ours who since have sailed over his track.

Nor ought we to pass on without calling to mind the melancholy fate, in 1606, of Master John Knight, driven, in the _Hopewell_, among huge masses of ice with a tremendous surf, his rudder knocked away, his ship half full of water, at the entrance to these straits.