ent on deck this morning at
five o'clock. It was absolutely dark; the cold not permitting a
swinging lamp, there was not a glimmer came to me through the
ice-crusted window-panes of the cabin. While I was feeling my way, half
puzzled as to the best method of steering clear of whatever might be
before me, two of my Newfoundland dogs put their cold noses against my
hand, and instantly commenced the most exuberant antics of satisfaction.
It then occurred to me how very dreary and forlorn must these poor
animals be, at atmospheres 10 degrees above zero in-doors and 50 degrees
below zero without--living in darkness, howling at an accidental light,
as if it reminded them of the moon--and with nothing, either of instinct
or sensation, to tell them of the passing hours, or to explain the long
lost daylight. They shall see the lantern more frequently."

Yet this state of midnight darkness is not altogether unmitigated.
There are a few ameliorating influences at work, the nature of some of
which we will treat of in the next chapter. Among others, the moon
frequently shines there with great brilliancy in winter. Dr Kane says
that in October the moon had reached her greatest northern declination:
"She is a glorious object. Sweeping around the heavens, at the lowest
part of her curve she is still 14 degrees above the horizon. For eight
days she has been making her circuit with nearly unvarying brightness.
It is one of those sparkling nights that bring back the memory of
sleigh-bells and songs and glad communings of hearts in lands that are
far away."

But despite all the varied and transient beauties of the northern skies
in winter, the long arctic night is undoubtedly depressing in the
extreme. In these regions men speak of being able to read the
thermometer on the 7th of November at noonday "without a light," as
being matter for gratulation. The darkness still before them at that
time would be of about three months' duration, and even then they would
only get back to a species of twilight.

The cold experienced by these navigators of the northern seas is
terribly intense. Their thermometers have frequently indicated a
temperature as low as 75 degrees below zero, or 107 degrees of frost, on
Fahrenheit's scale. The thermometers of arctic explorers are always
filled with spirits of wine, as quicksilver freezes at about 40 degrees
below zero, and is therefore unsuitable. It would be frozen, indeed,
the greater part of t