390 THE NORTH POLAR BASIN. 



a thickness at least twice as great as that of the rapid stream, and con- 

 sequently breaks up nuicli later. In the Great Slave Lnke theiceattaius 

 a depth of (> to 7 feet, and even in the Athabaska Lake, in latitude 58°, 

 It reaches 4 feet. The rapids between these two lakes extend for 15 

 miles. The ice on the river breaks up a month before that on the lakes, 

 so that the drainage area of the lirst summer flood is much restricted. 



The arrival of summer in tlu^ Arctic regions hap]»ens so late that the 

 inexperienced traveller may be excused for sometimes doubting whether 

 it really is going to come at all. When continuous night has become 

 continuous day Avithout any perceptible approach to spring, an Ali>ine 

 traveller naturally asks whether he has not reached the limit of perpet- 

 ual snow. It is true that here and there a few bart^ patches are to be 

 found on the steepest slopes where most of the snowhas been l)lowu 

 away by the wind, especially if thesis slopes face the south, where even 

 an Arctic sun has more potency than it has elsewhere. It is also true 

 that small flocks of little birds — at tirst snow buntings and mealy red 

 poles, and later shore larks and Laitland buntings — may be observed to flit 

 from one of these bare places to another looking for seeds or some other 

 kind of food, but after all, evidently finding most of it in the droppings 

 of the peasants' horses on the hard snow-covered roads. The appearance 

 of these little birds does not however give the same confidence in the 

 eventual coming of summer to the Arctic naturalist as the arrival of the 

 swallow or the cuckoo does to his brethren in the, sub-arctic and sub- 

 tropic climates. The four little birds Just mentioned are only gipsy 

 migrants that are perpetually flitting to and fro on the confines of the 

 frost, continually being driven south by snow-storms, but ever ready to 

 take advantage of the slightest thaw to press northward again to their 

 favorite Arctic home. They are all circumpolar in their distributions, 

 are as common in Siberia as in Lapland, and range across Canada to 

 Alaska, as well as to (Treenland. In sub-arcric climates we see them 

 only in winter, so that their appearance does not in the least degree 

 suggest the arrival of summer to the traveller from the south. 



The gradual rise in the level of the river inspires no more confidence 

 in the final uu'lting away of the snow and the disruption of the ice 

 which supports it. In Siberia the rivers are so enormous that a rise 

 of 5 or feet is scarcely perceptible. The Yenisei is 3 miles wide at 

 the Arctic Circle, and as fast as it rises the open water at the maigin 

 freezes up again and is soon covered with the drifting snow. During 

 the summer which I spent in the valley of the Yenisei we had feet of 

 snow on the ground until the 1st of June. To all intents and purposes 

 it was midwinter, illuminated fi»r the nonce with what amounted to con- 

 tinuous daylight. The light was a little duller at midnight, but uot so 

 much so as during the occasional snowstorms that swept through the 

 forest and drifted up the broad river bed. During the month of May 

 there were a few signs of the possibility of some mitigation of the 

 rigors of winter. Now and then there was a litrle rain, but it was 



