eamboat we began to raise the
average."

"Well," said Jesse, looking off to the dull-brown slopes of the
tundra-covered mountains which lay to the westward, "if what that
trader-man told me is true, we'll slow down considerably before we get
to the top of that pass in the Rockies yonder."

They were all sitting on the crest of the bluff of Fort McPherson
landing, where a long log slab, polished by many years of use, had
been erected as a sort of lookout bench for the people who live the
year around at Fort McPherson.

"What time is it, Rob?" asked Jesse, suddenly.

Rob pulled out his watch. "It's eleven-thirty," said he. "Get the
cameras, boys! Here's a good place for us, right here at the end of
the bench. It's almost midnight. Look over there!"

The three of them looked as he pointed. The Midnight Sun of the Arctic
hung low on the horizon, but not lower now than it had been for some
time. Its rays, reflected from the surface of the Peel River just
beyond, shone with a pale luster such as they had never before known.

With some sort of common feeling which neither of them could have
explained, each of the three boys took off his cap and laid it on the
bench beside him as he stood looking at that strange spectacle given
to so few travelers to see--the unsinking Midnight Sun!

XI

THE MIDNIGHT SUN

It was two o'clock in the morning. There had been no night. The sun
had not sunk at all beyond yonder dark, ragged fringe of the
spruce-trees marking the horizon. Not even the lower edge of its disk
had been broken by the top of the tallest spruce-tree. Yes, for one of
the few remaining nights of that year it had been given to our young
travelers to see the Midnight Sun at its lowest point.

It was a strange sun, so it seemed to them all. After it had sunk far
off to the left of the Peel River it seemed to hang there for a time,
and then to go, not in the arc of a circle, but almost in a line
parallel with the level of the earth plane, passing with considerable
rapidity from left to right in its course. Its reflection upon the
water of the Peel River, very noticeable at first, changed until by
and by there was no reflection left at all and it had passed off
across the spruce forest upon the right bank of the river. There again
it seemed to hang, as in its upward course it began to forsake its
semi-contact with the level of the earth's sphere. For these few days
at this latitude it would make its circle in