32 FARTHEST NORTH 



might rather say I am glad ; I feel as if awaiting some- 

 thino- crreat which lies hidden in the future; after lons^ 

 hours of uncertainty I can now discern the end of 

 this dark night; I have no doubt all will turn out suc- 

 cessfully, that the voyage is not in vain and the time 

 not wasted, and that our hopes will be realized. An 

 explorer's lot is, perhaps, hard and his life full of dis- 

 appointments, as they all say ; but it is also full of beau- 

 tiful moments — moments when he beholds the triumphs 

 of human faith and human will, when he catches sight 

 of the haven of success and peace. 



" I am in a singular frame of mind just now, in a 

 state of sheer unrest. I have not felt inclined for writing 

 during the last few days ; thoughts come and go, and 

 carry me irresistibly ahead. I can scarcely make myself 

 out, but who can fathom tlie depths of the human mind. 

 The brain is a puzzling piece of mechanism : ' We are 

 such stuff as dreams are made of.' Is it so .^ I almost 

 believe it — a microcosm of eternity's infinite ' stuff that 

 dreams are made of.' 



" This is the second Christmas spent far awa\' in the 

 solitude of night, in the realm of death, farther north 

 and deeper into the midst of it than any one has been 

 before. There is something strange in the feeling; and 

 then this, too, is our last Christmas on board the Frani. 

 It makes one almost sad to think of it. The vessel is 

 like a second home, and has become dear to us. Per- 

 haps our comrades may spend another Christmas here, 



