404 Scientific Intelligence. 



be observed to flit from one of these bare places to another look- 

 ing 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 com- 

 ing of summer to the Arctic naturalist as the arrival of the swal- 

 low or the cuckoo does to his brethren in 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 con- 

 fines of the frost, continually being driven south by snowstorms, 

 but ever ready to take advantage of the slightest thaw to press 

 northwards 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 Green- 

 land. In sub-Arctic climates we only see them in winter, so that 

 their appearance does not in the least degree suggest the arrival 

 of summer to the traveler from the South. 



The gradual rise in the level of the river inspires no more con- 

 fidence in the final melting away of the snow and the disruption 

 of the ice which supports it. In Siberia the rivers are so enorm- 

 ous that a rise of 5 or 6 feet is scarcely perceptible. The Yenisei 

 is three miles wide at the Arctic circle, and as fast as it rises the 

 open water at the margin freezes up again and is soon covered 

 with the drifting snow. During the summer which 1 spent in the 

 valley of the Yenisei we had six feet of snow on the ground until 

 the first of June. To all intents and purposes it was mid-winter, 

 illuminated for the nonce with what amounted to continuous day- 

 light. The light was a little duller at midnight, but not 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 little rain, 

 but it was always followed by frost. If it thawed one day it 

 froze the next, and Jittle or no impression was made on the snow. 

 The most tangible sign of coming summer was an increase in the 

 number of birds, but they were nearly all forest birds, which 

 could enjoy the sunshine in the pines and birches, and which were 

 by no means dependent on the melting away of the snow for their 

 supply of food. Between May 16 and 30 we had more definite 

 evidence of our being within bird flight of bare grass or open 

 water. Migratory flocks of wild geese passed over our winter 

 quarters, but if 4hey w T ere flying north one day they were flying 

 south the next, proving beyond all doubt that their migration 

 was premature. The geese evidently agreed with us that it 

 ought to be summer, but it was as clear to the geese as to us that 

 it really was winter. 



We afterwards learnt that during the last ten days of May a 

 tremendous battle had been raging 600 miles as the crow flies to 

 the southward of our position on the Arctic Circle. Summer in 

 league with the sun had been fighting winter and the north wind 



