A NARROW PINCH 211 



It was now no longer bright twilight at mid- 

 night. The sun already well on its journey to 

 the equator, sank earlier and deeper below the 

 horizon. Several hours of darkness began to 

 intervene between its setting and its rising. By 

 September we had a regular succession of days 

 and nights. 



With the return of night we saw for the first 

 time that electric phenomenon of the Far North, 

 the aurora borealis. Every night during our 

 stay in the Arctic the skies were made brilliant 

 with these shooting lights. I had expected to 

 see waving curtains of rainbow colors, but I saw 

 no colors at any time. The auroras of those 

 skies were of pure white light. A great arch 

 would suddenly shoot across the zenith from 

 horizon to horizon. It was nebulously bright, 

 like a shining milky way or a path of snow upon 

 which moonlight sparkles. You could hear it 

 rustle and crackle distinctly, with a sound like 

 that of heavy silk violently shaken. It shed a 

 cold white radiance over the sea like the light of 

 arc lamps, much brighter than the strongest 

 moonlight. 



