THE LONG NIGHT 81 



ice floe, which had rafted and broken up near the 

 shore, that they would have a difficult time in getting 

 back. The snow on land was so deep, and at the 

 same time so light, I could not see how dogs and 

 komatiks could get through it at all. 



Referring to the ice, late in September a pro- 

 nounced movement had occurred in it. That to the 

 southward, over which we had traveled in our dog 

 journey to the boat, had entirely disappeared, and 

 the sea was open. Great sheets of the floe passed 

 at this time to the southward. Everywhere, in fact, 

 even to the northward, were great leads of open water. 

 On October third, however, the Sound appeared to 

 be more completely covered with ice than at any 

 previous period. On that day, while walking on the 

 hills with two Eskimo boys, I had a very good view 

 of the ice opposite Annootok, and it seemed possible 

 to cross upon it to Cape Sabine, not one spot of open 

 water being visible in that direction. 



At midnight on October sixth there occurred a 

 remarkable display of northern lights. Exceedingly 

 brilliant and beautiful they were, with changing 

 colors sweeping the heavens. At the same time a 

 silence that was death-like brooded over the world, 

 broken only at intervals by cannon-like reports of 

 cracking ice far out on Smith Sound, or the mourn- 

 ful howl of a dog. No other animal except a full- 

 blooded wolf can make that particular noise. Break- 

 ing upon the silent night, it is heartrending beyond 

 description. 



In some way I caught a severe cold, and suffered 



