ng grave, and spent the whole day in hauling wood
from the shore. As their hour-glasses informed them that night was
approaching, they bethought themselves that it was Twelfth Night, or
Three Kings' Eve. So they all respectfully proposed to Skipper Heemskerk,
that, in the midst of their sorrow they might for once have a little
diversion. A twelfth-night feast was forthwith ordained. A scanty portion
of the wine yet remaining to them was produced. Two pounds weight of
flour, which they had brought to make paste with for cartridges, was
baked into pancakes with a little oil, and a single hard biscuit was
served out to each man to be sopped in his meagre allowance of wine. "We
were as happy," said Gerrit de veer, with simple pathos, "as if we were
having a splendid banquet at home. We imagined ourselves in the
fatherland with all our friends, so much did we enjoy our repast."

That nothing might be omitted, lots were drawn for king, and the choice
fell on the gunner, who was forthwith proclaimed monarch of Nova Zembla.
Certainly no men, could have exhibited more undaunted cheerfulness amid
bears and foxes, icebergs and cold--such as Christians had never
conceived of before--than did these early arctic pilgrims. Nor did
Barendz neglect any opportunity of studying the heavens. A meridian was
drawn near the house, on which the compass was placed, and observations
of various stars were constantly made, despite the cold, with
extraordinary minuteness. The latitude, from concurrent measurement of
the Giant, the Bull, Orion, Aldebaran, and other constellations--in the
absence of the sun--was ascertained to be a little above seventy-six
degrees, and the variations of the needle were accurately noted.

On the 24th January it was clear weather and comparatively mild, so that
Heemskerk, with De Veer and another, walked to the strand. To their
infinite delight and surprise they again saw the disk of the sun on the
edge of the horizon, and they all hastened back with the glad tidings.
But Barendz shook his head. Many days must elapse, he said, before the
declination of the sun should be once more 14 deg., at which point in the
latitude of 76 deg. they had lost sight of the luminary on the 4th
November, and at which only it could again be visible. This, according to
his calculations, would be on the 10th February. Two days of mirky and
stormy atmosphere succeeded, and those who had wagered in support of the
opinion of Barendz were incli