even feet diameter. From the inside of this circle the snow was cut by
means of a long knife in the form of slabs nearly a foot thick, and from
two to three feet long, having a slight convexity on the outside. These
slabs were then so cut and arranged that, when they were piled upon
each other round the margin of the circle, they formed a dome-shaped
structure like a bee-hive, which was six feet high inside, and
remarkably solid. The slabs were cemented together with loose snow, and
every accidental chink or crevice filled up with the same material. The
natives sometimes insert a block of clear ice in the roof for a window,
but this was dispensed with on the present occasion--first, because
there was no light to let in; and, secondly, because if there had been,
they didn't want it.

The building of the hut occupied only an hour, for the hunters were cold
and hungry, and in their case the old proverb might have been
paraphrased, "No _work_, no supper." A hole, just large enough to permit
a man to creep through on his hands and knees, formed the door of this
bee-hive. Attached to this hole, and cemented to it, was a low tunnel of
about four feet in length. When finished, both ends of the tunnel were
closed up with slabs of hard snow, which served the purpose of double
doors, and effectually kept out the cold.

While this tunnel was approaching completion, Fred retired to a short
distance, and sat down to rest a few minutes on a block of ice.

A great change had come over the scene during the time they were at work
on the snow-hut. The night had settled down, and now the whole sky was
lit up with the vivid and beautiful coruscations of the aurora
borealis--that magnificent meteor of the North which, in some measure,
makes up to the inhabitants for the absence of the sun. It spread over
the whole extent of the sky in the form of an irregular arch, and was
intensely brilliant. But the brilliancy varied, as the green ethereal
fire waved mysteriously to and fro, or shot up long streamers toward the
zenith. These streamers, or "merry dancers," as they are sometimes
termed, were at times peculiarly bright. Their colour was most
frequently yellowish white, sometimes greenish, and once or twice of a
lilac tinge. The strength of the light was something greater than that
of the moon in her quarter, and the stars were dimmed when the aurora
passed over them as if they had been covered with a delicate gauze veil.

But that which st