rselves overwhelmed with drifting snow.

"The sky was for the most part cloudless, and no snow fell from the
heavens, but the light snow that lay upon the ice was picked up, as it
were, by the wind, and whirled through the air in a manner as beautiful
as it was terrible; for the drift coming in streams, with the rushing
wind, lashed our faces, torturing us in a terrible manner, chilling us
through and through, and almost overpowering us. Then an aurora borealis
burst out before us, as if the heavens were on fire,--and from the top
of our little island the snow came whirling above our heads in constant
streams, that went circling about in a most fantastic way.

"You cannot imagine how grand this storm scene was,--the wind howling
around us, the snowdrifts whirling about and spinning over the icy
plain, the moon gleaming brightly upon the snow and the icebergs and the
island, and every now and then a great blaze of many colors that were
reflected on everything about us, would start up from the auroral arch,
until the light became almost as great for a few moments as if it were
broad day. It was very fearful, and you may be sure that we hastened on
to the hut as fast as we could, though we were not in such a great hurry
as to be wholly insensible to the magnificence of the scene.

"After we had reached the hut, the Dean repeated some verses which he
had picked up somewhere; and when I recite them for you, you will see
how appropriate they were to what I have been describing, and how
strange seemed to us our situation when we found ourselves in the very
place where the poet had imagined the Northwest wind to have a
beginning.

"The Nor'west wind is a spirit brave,
And he cometh from afar;
He is cradled far down in the depths that yawn
Beneath the polar star.

"Where no mortal foot hath been, he maketh
His track o'er the snowy plain;
And listens the tread of phantoms dread,
With banner and spear and flame.

"Where the billows are booming on frozen shore,
O there right kingly is he!
His pinnacled throne the iceberg lone,
His empire the boundless sea.

"He rideth aloft on the mountain-tops,--
Rare sport doth he meet with there;
He spinneth the snow in lightning flow,
Till it gleams like a witch's hair."

"O the Nor'west wind is a spirit brave,
A conquering hero is he;
And his fierce battle song, as he marcheth along,