green
and pale blue; and then comes deep blue, star-sown, and then infinite
space, where no dawn will ever break. In the north are quivering
arches of faint aurora, trembling now like awakening longings, but
presently, as if at the touch of a magic wand, to storm as streams of
light through the dark blue of heaven--never at peace, restless as the
very soul of man. I can sit and gaze and gaze, my eyes entranced by
the dream-glow yonder in the west, where the moon's thin, pale, silver
sickle is dipping its point into the blood; and my soul is borne beyond
the glow, to the sun, so far off now--and to the home-coming! Our
task accomplished, we are making our way up the fjord as fast as
sail and steam can carry us. On both sides of us the homeland lies
smiling in the sun; and then ... the sufferings of a thousand days
and hours melt into a moment's inexpressible joy. Ugh! that was a
bitter gust--I jump up and walk on. What am I dreaming about! so far
yet from the goal--hundreds and hundreds of miles between us, ice and
land and ice again. And we are drifting round and round in a ring,
bewildered, attaining nothing, only waiting, always waiting, for what?

"'I dreamt I lay on a grassy bank,
And the sun shone warm and clear;
I wakened on a desert isle,
And the sky was black and drear.'

"One more look at the star of home, the one that stood that evening
over Cape Chelyuskin, and I creep on board, where the windmill is
turning in the cold wind, and the electric light is streaming out
from the skylight upon the icy desolation of the Arctic night.

"Wednesday, November 8th. The storm (which we had had the two
previous days) is quite gone down; not even enough breeze for the
mill. We tried letting the dogs sleep on the ice last night, instead
of bringing them on board in the evening, as we have been doing
lately. The result was that another dog was torn to pieces during the
night. It was 'Ulabrand,' the old brown, toothless fellow, that went
this time. 'Job' and 'Moses' had gone the same way before. Yesterday
evening's observations place us in 77 deg. 43' north latitude and 138 deg. 8'
east longitude. This is farther south than we have been yet. No help
for it; but it is a sorry state of matters; and that we are farther
east than ever before is only a poor consolation. It is new moon again,
and we may therefore expect pressure; the ice is, in fact, already
moving; it began to