e of this
unfortunate interruption, and return to the level track of the ice-belt,
which they had left for a time and taken to the sea-ice, in order to
avoid the sinuosities of the land. To add to their misfortunes, the
dogs began to flag, so that they were obliged to walk behind the sledge
at a slow pace, and snow began to fall heavily. But they pressed
forward manfully, and, having regained the shore-ice, continued to make
their way northward towards the ship, which was now spoken of by the
endearing name of home.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

DEPARTURE OF THE SUN--EFFECTS OF DARKNESS ON DOGS--WINTER ARRANGEMENTS
IN THE INTERIOR OF THE DOLPHIN.

It is sad to part with an old friend, especially if he be one of the
oldest and best friends we ever had. When the day of departure arrives,
it is of no avail that he tells us kindly he will come back again. That
assurance is indeed a comfort after he is gone, and a sweet star of hope
that shines brighter and brighter each day until he comes back; but it
is poor consolation to us at the time of parting, when we are squeezing
his hand for the last time, and trying to crush back the drops that
_will_ overflow.

The crew of the _Dolphin_ had, in the course of that winter, to part
with one of their best friends; one whom they regarded with the most
devoted attachment; one who was not expected to return again till the
following spring, and one, therefore, whom some of them might perhaps,
never see again.

Mivins became quite low-spirited about it, and said "as 'ow 'e'd 'ave a
'eavy 'eart for hever and hever, hamen," after he was gone. O'Riley
remarked, in reference to his departure, that every man in the ship was
about to lose a "_son_!" Yes, indeed he did; he perpetrated that
atrocious pun, and wasn't a bit ashamed of it. O'Riley had perpetrated
many a worse pun than that before; it's to be hoped that for the credit
of his country he has perpetrated a few better ones since!

Yes, the period at length arrived when the great source of light and
heat was about to withdraw his face from these Arctic navigators for a
long, long time, and leave them in unvarying night. It was a good
while, however, before he went away altogether, and for many weeks after
winter set in in all its intensity, he paid them a daily visit which
grew gradually shorter and shorter, until that sad evening in which he
finally bade them farewell.

About the middle of October the dark months overspread t