The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1897-03-13

toward you. You try another direc
ton, but there it is the same. All
round it is laundering and roaring, as
of some enormous waterfall, with ex-
plosions like cannon salvoes. Still
nearer it comes. The foe you are
standing on gets smaller and smaller
water pours over it; there can be nc
escape except by scrambling over the
rolling ice blocks to get to the Other
side of the pack. This is what goes
on in the North month after month
and year after year."
He describes a November night in
the following way: "These days the
moon has sometimes rings round it
with mock moons and axes, accom-
panied by rather strange phenomena
When the moon stands so low that
the ring touches the horizon, bright
field of light is formed where the
horizon cuts the ring. Similar ex-
panses of light are also formed where
the perpendicular axis from the moon
intersects the horizon. Faint rain
bows are often to be seen in these
shining light fields; yellow was gen.
orally the strongest tint nearest the
horizon, passing over into red, and
then into blue. Similar colors could
also be distinguished in the mock
moons" Ten days,later he witnessed
really remarkable" aurora bore,
alis.
December 1st. Wonderfully
beautiful weather for the last few
days; one can never weary of going
up and down outside, while the moon
transforms the whole of this ice world
into a fairyland. The hut is still in
shadow under the mountain which
hangs above it, dark and lowering;
but the moonlight floats over ice and
ford, which is cast back glittering
from every snowy ridge and hill. A
weird beauty, without feeling, as
though of a dead planet, built of shin
ing marble. And everything
so still, so awfully still, with the ST.
lence that shall one day reign. when
the earth again becomes desolate
and empty. infinite silence
In the flaming aurora borealis, the
spirit of space hovers over the frozen
waters. The soul bows down before
the majesty of night and death. !.
The northern lights were wonderful.
How often we see this weird play of
light, we never tire of gazing at it. 1t
begins to dawn with a pale, yellow,
spectral light behind the mountain
in the east, like the reflection of a
fire far away. 1t broadens, and soon
the whole eastern sky is one glowing
mass of fire. Now it fades again, and
gathers in highly luminous belt of
mist stretching towards the south
west, with only few patches of lum-
inous haze visible here and there.
After while, scattered rays sudden
ly shoot up from the fiery mist, al
most reaching to the zenith; then
more; they play over the belt in
wild chase from east to west. But
suddenly perfect veil of rays show
ers out of the zenith over the northern
sky; they are so fine and bright, like
the finest of glittering silver threads"
We have already said that the tale
of DIR. Nansen's almost superhuman
toll and struggle against difficulties
and dispiriting incidents in the Polar
regions may enable tens of thousands
to persevere in their less arduous and
difficult tasks at home, and to win
the victory for themselves, for their
families, and for their cause. For
after all the most delightful, and not
the least graphic pages of his book
are those which so dramatically de-
scribe his welcome home. His inter-
esting story, we hope, for full year,
will supplant those foolish sentimen-
tai novels, and prove something like
clean grit in the life of thousands of
both the young and the old of our