interest did they feel in
the attempt to paint the "island-of-ice." The hope was to linger about
it until sunset, for its colors, lights, and shadows. That, however,
was suddenly extinguished. Heavy fog came on, and we retreated, not
with the satisfaction of a conquest, nor with the disappointment of a
defeat, but cheered with the hope of complete success, perhaps the
next day, when C. thought that we could return upon our game in a
little steamer, and so secure it beyond the possibility of escape. The
seine was hauled from the stern to the centre of the barge, and the
men pulled away for Torbay, a long six miles, rough and chilly. For my
part, I was trembling with cold, and found it necessary to lend a hand
at the oars, an exercise which soon made the weather feel several
degrees warmer, and rendered me quite comfortable. After a little the
wind lulled, the fog dispersed again, and the iceberg seemed to
contemplate our slow departure with complacent serenity. We regretted
that the hour forbade a return. It would have been pleasant to play
around that Parthenon of the sea in the twilight. The best that was
left us was to look back and watch the effects of light, which were
wonderfully fine, and had the charm of entire novelty. The last view
was the very finest. All the east front was a most tender blue; the
fissures on the southern face, from which we were rowing directly
away, were glittering green; the western front glowed in the yellow
sunlight; around were the dark waters, and above one of the most
beautiful of skies.

We fell under the land presently, and passed near the northern cape of
Flat-Rock Bay, a grand headland of red sandstone, a vast and dome-like
pile, fleeced at the summit with green turf and shrubs of fir. The
sun, at last, was really setting. There was the old magnificence of
the king of day,--airy deeps of ineffable blue and pearl, stained with
scarlets and crimsons, and striped with living gold. A blaze of white
light, deepening into the richest orange, crowned the distant ridge
behind which the sun was vanishing. A vapory splendor, rose-color and
purple, was dissolving in the atmosphere; and every wave of the ocean,
a dark violet, nearly black, was "a flash of golden fire." Bathed with
this almost supernatural glory, the headland, in itself richly
complexioned with red, brown, and green, was at once a spectacle of
singular grandeur and solemnity. I have no remembrance of more
brilliant effects of