THE COMING DAWN. 
43 
“ The day is beginning to glow with the approaching 
sun. The south at noon has almost an orange tinge. 
In ten days his direct rays will reach our hill-tops; 
and in a week after he will be dispensing his blessed 
medicine among our sufferers. 
“February 12, Monday.—Hans is off for his hunt¬ 
ing-lodge, ‘over the hills and far away,’ beyond Char¬ 
lotte Wood Fiord. I have sent Godfrey with him; for 
I fear the boy has got the taint like the rest of us, and 
may suffer from the exposure. He thinks he can bring 
back a deer, and the chances are worth the trial. We 
can manage the small hunt, Petersen and I, till he 
comes back, unless we break down too. But I do not 
like these symptoms of mine, and Petersen is very far 
from the man he was. We had a tramp to-day, both 
of us, after an imaginary deer,—a bennisoaJc that has 
been supposed for the last three days to be hunting 
the neighborhood of the waterpools of the big fiord, 
and have come back jaded and sad. If Hans gives 
way, God help us!” 
It is hardly worth while to inflict on the reader a 
succession of journal-records like these. They tell of 
nothing but the varying symptoms of sick men, dreary, 
profitless hunts, relieved now and then by the sig¬ 
nalized incident of a killed rabbit or a deer seen, and 
the longed-for advent of the solar light. 
We worked on board—those of us who could work at 
all—at arranging a new gangway with a more gentle 
slope, to let some of the party crawl up from their 
