In the Great White Land by Gordon Stables

When men have been at sea for months and months, catching hardly e'er a blink of the shore, and seeing day by day only the faces and forms of their shipmates, or exchanging passing signals with some other ocean wanderer like the vessel on which they stand, any unusual sight serves to excite them and render them happy for the time being.

But this great iceberg was far indeed from a usual sight. How it had become detached from the vast sea-wall far farther south and floated northwards, almost into the latitude of Kerguelen itself, was, of course, a matter of mere conjecture. The currents of the oceans and the winds had doubtless drifted it hither and thither, for months, if not years; seas had beaten against its sheer and lofty sides, and hollowed strange arches therein; but the everlasting snows that covered it, and rose into cones and peaks high above, were probably as white now as, or even whiter than, when it first broke loose and became a rover on the ocean's breast. And the very currents that had wafted it thither might in time carry it south again, to join its fellows, and tell the strange story of its wanderings and all the marvels it had seen.