156 
DARKNESS AND THE DOGS. 
The influence of this long, intense darkness was 
most depressing. Even our dogs, although the greater 
part of them were natives of the Arctic circle, v r ere 
unable to withstand it. Most of them died from an 
anomalous form of disease, to which, I am satisfied, 
the absence of light contributed as much as the ex¬ 
treme cold. I give a little extract from my journal 
of January 20th. 
“ This morning at five o’clock—for I am so afflicted 
with the insomnium of this eternal night, that I rise 
at any time between midnight and noon—I went upon 
deck. It was absolutely dark; the cold not permit¬ 
ting a swinging lamp. There was not a glimmer came 
to me through the ice-crusted w r indov r -panes of the 
cabin. While I was feeling my way, half puzzled as 
to the best method of steering clear of whatever might 
be before me, two of my Newfoundland dogs put their 
cold noses against my hand, and instantly commenced 
the most exuberant antics of satisfaction. It then 
occurred to me how very dreary and forlorn must 
these poor animals be, at atmospheres of +10° in-doors 
and —50° without,—living in darkness, howling at an 
accidental light, as if it reminded them of the moon,-" 
and with nothing, either of instinct or sensation, to 
tell them of the passing hours, or to explain the long' 
lost daylight. They shall see the lanterns moi’ c 
frequently.” 
I may recur to the influence which our long white 1 ’ 
night exerted on the health of these much-valued an 1 ' 
mals. The subject has some interesting bearings; hut 
