The Winter Night. 235 



to-diy again. It begins with a gentle crack and moan 

 along the side of the ship, which gradually sounds louder 

 in every key. Now it is a high plaintive tone, now it 

 is a grumble, now it is a snarl, and the ship gives a 

 start up. The noise steadily grows till it is like all the 

 pipes of an organ ; the ship trembles and shakes, and 

 rises by fits and starts, or is sometimes gently lifted. 

 There is a pleasant, comfortable feeling in sitting 

 listening to all this uproar and knowing the strength of 

 our ship. Many a one would have been crushed long- 

 ago. But outside the ice is ground against our ship's 

 sides, the piles of broken-up floe are forced under her 

 heavy, invulnerable hull, and we lie as if in a bed. Soon 

 the noise begins to die down ; the ship sinks into its old 

 position again, and presently all is silent as before. In 

 several places round us the ice is piled up, at one spot 

 to a considerable height. Towards evening there was a 

 slackening, and we lay again in a large, open pool. 



" Thursday, October 1 2th. In the morning we and our 

 floe were drifting on blue water in the middle of a large, 

 open lane, which stretched far to the north, and in the 

 north the atmosphere at the horizon was dark and blue. 

 As far as we could see from the crow's-nest with the 

 small field-glass, there was no end to the open water, 

 with only single pieces of ice sticking up in it here and 

 there. These are extraordinary changes. I wondered 

 if we should prepare to go ahead. But they had 

 long ago taken the machinery to pieces for the winter, 



