CHAPTER Xiy. 



MIDWINTER. — THE NIGHT OF MONTHS. — BRILLIANCY OF THE MOONLIGHT.— 

 MILD TEMPERATURES. —REMARKABLE WEATHER. —A SHOWER. — DEPTH OF 

 SNOW. — SNOW CRYSTALS. — AN EPIDEMIC AMONG THE DOGS.— SYMPTOMS 

 OF THE DISORDER —GREAT MORTALITY. — ONLY ONE TEAM LEFT. — NEW 

 PLANS. — SCHEMES FOR REACHING THE ESQUIMAUX IN WHALE SOUND. 



The reader who has followed my diary since we 

 entered Port Foiilke will have noticed how gradually 

 the daylight vanished, and with what slow and meas- 

 ured step the darkness came upon us. As November 

 approached its close, the last glimmer of twilight dis- 

 appeared. The stars shone at all hours with equal 

 brilliancy. From a summer which had no night we 

 had passed into a winter which had no day, through 

 an autumn twilight. In this strange ordering of Na- 

 ture there is something awe-inspiring and unreal. 



We all knew from our school-boy days that, at the 

 poles of the earth there is but one day and one night 

 in the year ; but, when brought face to flice with the 

 reality, it is hard to realize. And it is harder still to 

 get used to. If the constant sunshine of the summer 

 disturbed our life-long habits, the continual darkness 

 of the winter did more. In the one case the imagi- 

 nation was excited by the ever-present light, inspiring 

 action ; in the other, a night of months threw a cloud 

 over the intellect and dwarfed the eners:ies. 



To this prolonged darkness the moon gives some 

 relief From its rising to its setting it shines contin- 

 ally, circling around the horizon, never setting until 



