Early Morn in the North 



(British Z) 



THE MORNING of the twenty-sixth of July, in the year 1G13, 

 broke dark and very threatening off the grim, rocky coast: 

 that lies south of the deep inlet known as Thomas Smyth's Bay in 

 the arctic isles of Spitsbergen. Beyond the barren, lifeless jumble of 

 rocks that reaches upwards to a Une of low, craggy peaks, lies a 

 great, low white dome of ice, bright against the deep gray sky, and 

 an ominous clarity gives exceptional vision. But already, this day, 

 the sea is flecked with white. These are never kindly lands, and con- 

 ditions may become as terrible in midsummer as in the perpetual 

 darkness of winter. 



Captain Stanley Burkett, master of the Martha Marguerite, a sturdy 

 vessel of only a hundred and fifty jtons but deep of draught, out of 

 Bristol, England, is most dissatisfied with the look of the weather. 

 Unfortunately, although he is officially the master of the ship, de- 

 cisions even as to navigation are not entirely his to make, for he has 

 the company agent aboard, one Mr. Jonas Lodge, whose business 

 acumen apparently is not matched by his knowledge of seamanship. 



