550 FARTHEST NORTH 



all lies the south, the land of his youthful dreams, tempt- 

 ing with its sunny smile. In time he arises, half dead. 

 Does he find his south ? How often it is but a barren 

 desert he is cast ashore on ! 



" Sunday, October yth. It has cleared up this even- 

 ing, and there is a starry sky and aurora borealis. It is 

 a little change from the constant cloudy weather, with 

 frequent snow - showers, which we have had these last 

 days. 



" Thoughts come and thoughts go. I cannot forget, 

 and I cannot sleep. Everything is still ; all are asleep. 

 I only hear the quiet step of the watch on deck ; the 

 wind rustling in the rigging and the canvas, and the 

 clock gently hacking the time in pieces there on the wall. 

 If I go on deck there is black night, stars sparkling 

 high overhead, and faint aurora flickering across the 

 gloomy vault, and out in the darkness I can see the 

 glimmer of the great monotonous plain of the ice : it is all 

 so inexpressibly forlorn, so far, far removed from the 

 noise and unrest of men and all their striving. What 

 is life thus isolated } A strange, aimless process ; and 

 man a machine which eats, sleeps, awakes ; eats and 

 sleeps again, dreams dreams, but never lives. Or is 

 life really nothing else .'^ And is it just one more phase 

 of the eternal martyrdom, a new mistake of the erring 

 human soul, this banishing of ones self to the hopeless 

 wilderness, only to long there for what one has left be- 

 hind } Am I a coward ? Am I afraid of death } Oh, 



