hile
the icy pinnacles were fretted with silver and gold. Upon the slopes of
the lower hills there were even patches of a dull green, made beautiful
by the brilliant sunshine, while the steeper mountains were of rich
orange and brown or of a clear, pure grey.

"Is this Spitzbergen?" asked Steve. "Yes, and well named," said the
captain, who was using his glass; "the land of mountain
points--_spitzes_ as they call them, or _piz_ in North Italy among the
mountains there."

The wind still favoured them, and they rapidly glided on toward what
seemed for hours to be fairyland, and so lovely that Steve spent nearly
all the time upon deck, scarcely allowing himself enough to obtain the
necessary meals. At last he came to the conclusion that he must be
tired and surfeited with the view, for somehow it did not appear to be
so beautiful as at first. The dazzling peaks of glittering ice shrank
lower and lower, till they disappeared behind hills which had hardly
been seen before, and now rose apparently higher and higher, with every
ledge deep in snow, and the steep slopes and perpendicular precipices
that in some places ran down to the sea looking grim, grey, or black as
they were granite or a dark shaley slate. Not a tree was visible, only
in places traces of dry-looking heathery stuff and patches of what
looked to be moss. In places the water seemed to be foaming down from a
great height inland to the sea; but in a short time, as they neared the
land, the cascades proved to be ice, and Steve woke to the fact that the
place was far more beautiful at a distance, when its rugged asperities
were softened and seen through a medium which tinged everything of a
delicious blue. That he was not alone in this way of thinking was soon
proved by the doctor's remark as he joined him.

"What a land of desolation, Steve!" he said.

"I thought you said it was beautiful?"

"Yes, at a distance, my lad. But close in: look at it--ice, snow,
rocks, everywhere. I suppose we are too early in the summer for
anything green and bright to be seen."

"Here's Johannes," said Steve, as the big Norwegian came by. "I say,
what shall we find here, Johannes? It looks to be a very bleak spot."

"Not for a visit, sir," replied the man. "It is a grand place for
game."

"Game? What game?"

"Reindeer, sir. A good fat buck will be a pleasant addition to the salt
and preserved meat."

"Of course; and what else?"

"A kind of grouse, sir; abun