derness.

When he drew his blanket over him and laid his head on his capote the
stars were still twinkling, and the moon still sailed in a clear sky and
gave silver edges to the ice upon the sea. All was calm and solemn and
beautiful, and it seemed as if it could never be otherwise in such a
tranquil scene. But nature does not always smile. Appearances are
often deceitful.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

BRYAN'S ADVENTURE WITH A POLAR BEAR, ETCETERA.

Ice, ice, ice! everything seemed to have been converted into ice when
the day broke on the following morning and awoke the sleepers in the
camp. A sharp frost during the night, accompanied by a fall of snow,
had, as if by magic, converted spring into winter. Icy particles hung
upon and covered, not only the young leaves and buds of the bushes, but
the branches also, giving to them a white and extremely airy appearance.
Snow lay on the upper sides of the canoes, and weighed heavily on the
tent, causing its folds, once seemingly so pure and white, to look dirty
by contrast. Snow lay on the protruding legs of the men, and encircled
the black spot where rested the ashes of last night's brilliant fire.
Ice grated on the pebbles of the shore; ice floated on the sea; icy
hummocks and mounds rose above its surface; and icebergs raised their
pinnacles on the far-off horizon, and cut sharply into the bright blue
sky.

It was cold, but it was not cheerless; for when Eda put out her head at
the curtain doorway of the tent, and opened her eyes upon the magic
scene, the sun's edge rose above the horizon, as if to greet her, and
sent a flood of light far and near through the spacious universe,
converting the sea into glass, with islands of frosted silver on its
bosom. It was a gorgeous scene, worthy of its great Creator, who in His
mysterious working scatters gems of beauty oftentimes in places where
there is scarce a single human eye to behold their excellence.

Although the sea was covered with ice, there were, nevertheless, several
lanes of open water not far from the shore; so that when Stanley called
a council, composed of Frank Morton, Dick Prince, and Massan, it was
agreed unanimously that they should attempt to proceed. And it was well
that they did so; for they had not advanced many miles, winding their
way cautiously among the canals of open water, when they doubled a
promontory, beyond which there was little or no ice to be seen, merely a
few scattered fragments and fields