ROUTINE OF DUTIES. 203 



in an instant a crack opened in the ice between us. 

 It came so suddenly and widened so rapidly that he 

 could not spring over it to where I stood, and he 

 sailed away upon the dark waters of a troubled sea. 

 I last saw him standing firmly upon the crystal raft, 

 his erect form cutting sharply against a streak of 

 light which lay upon the distant horizon. 



Our life moves on with unobstructed monotony. 

 There are but few incidents to mark the progress of 

 these tedious hours of darkness. If I have now some 

 fears for Sonntag, yet I envy him, and cannot wonder 

 at his eagerness to go, independent of his important 

 object. A dash among the Esquimau villages, and a 

 few days of combat with the storms would lift one out 

 of the prolonged dullness of this waiting for the day. 

 Any thing in the world is better than inaction and 

 perpetual sameness. Best and endless routine are our 

 portion. The ship's duties and our social duties are 

 performed from week to week with the same painfully 

 precise regularity. We live by " bells," and this may 

 be true in a double sense. "Bells" make the day, 

 and mark the progress of time. But for these " bells," 

 these endless " bells," I believe we should all lie down 

 and sleep on through the eternal night, and wake not 

 until the day dawned upon us in the long hereafter. 

 "Bells" tell us the hours and the half hours, and 

 change the " watch," and govern the divisons of time, 

 as at sea. " One bell " calls us to breakfast, two to 

 lunch, and "four bells" is the dinner summons. "Six 

 bells " is the signal for putting out the lights, and at 

 "seven bells" we open our eyes again to the same 

 continuous pale glimmer of the kerosene lamp, and 

 we awake again to the same endless routine of occu- 

 pations, idleness, and ennui. 



