# Crusoes of the Frozen North/chapter7

CHAPTER VII
One morning, a month or two after this, the Crusoes awoke to find that the sun rose that day for the last time, and, until spring should return, they would see his golden beams no more.
But there was a bright and beautiful twilight every mid-day for two weeks longer. Then they knew that the long, dreary Arctic night had come in earnest. For about a month the Crusoes had been eating very heartily every day and were getting quite fat. It was the same with the animals.
Flossy had long ago lost her puppy coat, and was now a bonny whitish-yellow seal, not very large, and with a black saddle on her back. But Flossy got drowsy too, and if the boys had not stirred her up every day, and sent her off to catch fish, I believe she would have slept nearly all the time.
Even the boys felt sleepy, though they could not tell why. Said Tom one day to Frank as they sat playing draughts on a rough board, with nuts for men: "Frank, old man, by this time all the bears will have gone into winter quarters. They won't come out much until the sun returns."
"Fancy," cried Aralia, clapping her hands, "Fancy all of us sleeping all night long—three months, didn't you say, Tom? Wouldn't it be nice? And if Uncle Staysail should come in to wake us in the morning! 'Get up,' he would say, 'are you going to sleep all day?'"
They all laughed at the idea, but it was not carried out. Besides the candles, which they only burned at supper and after, they had torches made of wood which they could burn at any time. Moreover, there was the light of the camp fire, which they kept always burning, for they had laid in a vast store of peat and wood.
Tom was time-keeper. He had a little log-book in which he had been careful to note down day and date every morning, and, like a good lad, he never forgot to wind his watch. He made a really first-class Crusoe.
But they were all good. And what a grand guard Briton was! If ever he heard the slightest sound of bird or rabbit down amongst the trees or bushes beneath them, he gave a low growl. One night he sprang to his feet and barked very loudly and angrily.
The Crusoes were awake at once.
And no wonder, for terrible noises, like distant thunder, were heard just beneath their feet. They were startled still more when explosion after explosion took place, both in the air and in the earth, while the ground was shaken under them.
It was a curious, giddy movement, and made them all feel rather sick.
Then the thunder-storm burst in earnest, with rain and hail in torrents, and the whole island seemed to be on fire with the lightning.
Tom had to take Pansy in his arms to soothe her, for she shook and trembled like a little bird. But in two hours it was all over, and the stars were shining as bright and large and near as before.
Sometimes the moon shone with a stronger light than it ever does in this country. It seemed so close to them, too, that Pansy used to say it was only just resting on the snowy hill-top.
On moonlit days the children were always abroad in the forest or by the lake-side watching Flossy catching fish. She dived and swam far more quickly than an eel.
It is terribly dreary to want the sun, but after a month one gets used to it. Besides, one knows that bright and beautiful days are on ahead. Older people might have felt very weary, but none of our Crusoes lost heart.
I have not told you yet of the Aurora Borealis, which was best seen on dark, starry nights. It was not in the north only, but all around them, great bright fringes of coloured lights—chiefly green, crimson, or pink. How they danced and flickered, to be sure! Such dazzling beauty no pen could describe, and I will not attempt it.
Well, Christmas-day came at last, and how glad they all were to be still spared alive and in comfort!
Tom meant to make the most of it. But, of course, there was no turkey or goose to roast. Instead, they had a splendid great rabbit stuffed with nuts, and roasted roots to eat with it.
They had no crackers either, but Tom and Frank got an immense pile of dry wood, and heaped it in the middle of the rocky bridge that led to the mainland, and early in the day or night—whichever you like to call it—they set it alight.
Now, probably this pile saved some of their lives. It had been placed there about five days before Christmas, and a huge bear, who had the nightmare I suppose, came yawning out of his cave and down the mountain-side.
He had shambled along to about the centre of the bridge, then lain down among the wood and gone off to sleep.
He slept so soundly that he did not hear the boys crossing over to set the bonfire ablaze.
But when the smoke and crackling flames got towards him he started up and began to trot off, coughing and roaring till all the hills sent back the sound.
So awful was the echo that the boys were for a time almost terror-stricken. They thought that about a score of bears had left their snow-caves and were swarming down the hill.
Tom fired his rifle, but missed. Veevee wanted to follow up.
"Only just let me get at him," cried the little rascal, "and I'll tear him limb from limb!"
Anyhow that was a fine fire, and it lit up the lake and the woods all about, while the numerous sparks that rose and fell in the air were like golden rain.
After the fire began to fade and to die they all returned to their Christmas dinner in the hut.
No fewer than four candles were lighted to-night, one in each corner of the room. Oh, Tom meant to do everything in first-class form, I can tell you!
And I feel pretty certain that even at home in Merrie England no one that evening ate more heartily or made a better dinner than our Crusoes, all alone though they were in the far-off Frozen North.
After supper they all came round the fire, and the dogs went off to sleep, perchance to dream; but the children kept very wide awake indeed. And Tom told lots of droll, funny stories, and everybody sang songs. After this, all the talk was about home and the delightful time they were sure to have in one year's time, when Christmas came round again once more.
Then came sleep, and when Tom looked at his watch—next morning let me call it—it was very nearly twelve o'clock!
Although it now wanted but a fortnight, according to Tom's reckoning, of the first sunrise, it was still as dark as ever, and but for the moon and stars and glorious Aurora, life about this time would have been very tame and dreary indeed.
Yet, owing to the clearness of the air and the purity of everything around them, the children never once lost heart. In fact they were as merry as sky-larks, and often made the island resound with song and mirth and laughter.
And the dogs, as well as Flossy, were merrier still. They barked and laughed as only dogs can, and chased each other round and round in great circles, often disappearing for ten minutes at a time, and springing out and rolling Flossy over and over when she least expected them.
Flossy was gay enough, although she couldn't run, and often leapt fully six feet high, turning over and over in the air before she came down again.
And when she did manage to entice the dogs into the water, it was her turn to show them her skill; and indeed her feats in the water were marvellous. Anyhow, she used quite to astonish the dogs. They were all very well in the woods, but couldn't match Flossy in the water, and there was no use trying it.