During the whole period of our stay in Spitzbergen,we had enjoyed unclouded sunshine.The nights were even brighter than the days,and afforded Fitz an opportunity of taking some photographic views by the light of a MIDNIGHT sun.The cold was never very intense,though the thermometer remained below freezing,but about four o'clock every evening,the salt-water bay in which the schooner lay was veneered over with a pellicle of ice one-eighth of an inch in thickness,and so elastic,that even when the sea beneath was considerably agitated,its surface remained unbroken,the smooth,round waves taking the appearance of billows of oil.If such is the effect produced by the slightest modification of the sun's power,in the month of August,--you can imagine what must be the result of his total disappearance beneath the horizon.
The winter is,in fact,unendurable.Even in the height of summer,the moisture inherent in the atmosphere is often frozen into innumerable particles,so minute as to assume the appearance of an impalpable mist.Occasionally persons have wintered on the island,but unless the greatest precautions have been taken for their preservation,the consequences have been almost invariably fatal.About the same period as when the party of Dutch sailors were left at Jan Mayen,a similar experiment was tried in Spitzbergen.At the former place it was scurvy,rather than cold,which destroyed the poor wretches left there to fight it out with winter;at Spitzbergen,as well as could be gathered from their journal,it appeared that they had perished from the intolerable severity of the climate,--and the contorted attitudes in which their bodies were found lying,too plainly indicated the amount of agony they had suffered.No description can give an adequate idea of the intense rigour of the six months'
winter in this part of the world.Stones crack with the noise of thunder;in a crowded hut the breath of its occupants will fall in flakes of snow;wine and spirits turn to ice;the snow burns like caustic;if iron touches the flesh,it brings the skin away with it;the soles of your stockings may be burnt off your feet,before you feel the slightest warmth from the fire;linen taken out of boiling water,instantly stiffens to the consistency of a wooden board;and heated stones will not prevent the sheets of the bed from freezing.If these are the effects of the climate within an air-tight,fire-warmed,crowded hut--what must they be among the dark,storm-lashed mountain-peaks outside?
It was now time to think of going south again;we had spent many more days on the voyage to Spitzbergen than I had expected,and I was continually haunted by the dread of your becoming anxious at not hearing from us.
It was a great disappointment to be obliged to return without having got any deer;but your peace of mind was of more consequence to me than a ship-load of horns,and accordingly we decided on not remaining more than another day in our present berth leaving it still an open question whether we should not run up to Magdalena Bay,if the weather proved very inviting,the last thing before quitting for ever the Spitzbergen shores.
We had killed nothing as yet,except a few eider ducks,and one or two ice-birds--the most graceful winged creatures I have ever seen,with immensely long pinions,and plumage of spotless white.Although enormous seals from time to time used to lift their wise,grave faces above the water,with the dignity of sea-gods,none of us had any very great inclination to slay such rational human-looking creatures,and--with the exception of these and a white fish,a species of whale--no other living thing had been visible.On the very morning,however,of the day settled for our departure,Fitz came down from a solitary expedition up a hill with the news of his having seen some ptarmigan.Having taken a rifle with him instead of a gun,he had not been able to shoot more than one,which he had brought back in triumph as proof of the authenticity of his report,but the extreme juvenility of his victim hardly permitted us to identify the species;the hole made by the bullet being about the same size as the bird.Nevertheless,the slightest prospect of obtaining a supply of fresh meat was enough to reconcile us to any amount of exertion;therefore,on the strength of the pinch of feathers which Fitz kept gravely assuring us was the game he had bagged,we seized our guns--I took a rifle in case of a possible bear--and set our faces toward the hill.After a good hour's pull we reached the shoulder which Fitz had indicated as the scene of his exploit,but a patch of snow was the only thing visible.Suddenly I saw Sigurdr,who was remarkably sharp-sighted,run rapidly in the direction of the snow,and bringing his gun up to his shoulder,point it--as well as I could distinguish--at his own toes.When the smoke of the shot had cleared away,I fully expected to see the Icelander prostrate;but he was already reloading with the greatest expedition.Determined to prevent the repetition of so dreadful an attempt at self-destruction,I rushed to the spot.Guess then my relief when the bloody body of a ptarmigan--driven by so point blank a discharge a couple of feet into the snow--was triumphantly dragged forth by instalments from the sepulchre which it had received contemporaneously with its death wound,and thus happily accounted for Sigurdr's extraordinary proceeding.
At the same moment I perceived two or three dozen other birds,brothers and sisters of the defunct,calmly strutting about under our very noses.By this time Sigurdr had reloaded,Fitz had also come up,and a regular massacre began.Retiring to a distance--for it was the case of Mahomet and the mountain reversed--the two sportsmen opened fire upon the innocent community,and in a few seconds sixteen corpses strewed the ground.
