d a severe
attack of convulsions; it foamed at the mouth and bit furiously at
everything round it. It ended with tetanus, and we carried it out
and laid it down on the ice. It hopped about like a toad, its legs
stiff and extended, neck and head pointing upward, while its back
was curved like a saddle. I was afraid it might be hydrophobia or
some other infectious sickness, and shot it on the spot. Perhaps I
was rather too hasty; we can scarcely have any infection among us
now. But what could it have been? Was it an epileptic attack? The
other day one of the other puppies alarmed me by running round and
round in the chart-house as if it were mad, hiding itself after
a time between a chest and the wall. Some of the others, too, had
seen it do the same thing; but after a while it got all right again,
and for the last few days there has been nothing amiss with it.

"Good Friday, March 23d. Noonday observation gives 80 deg. north
latitude. In four days and nights we have drifted as far north as
we drifted southward in three weeks. It is a comfort, at all events,
to know that!

"It is remarkable how quickly the nights have grown light. Even stars
of the first magnitude can now barely manage to twinkle in the pale
sky at midnight.

"Saturday, March 24th. Easter Eve. To-day a notable event
has occurred. We have allowed the light of spring to enter the
saloon. During the whole of the winter the skylight was covered with
snow to keep the cold out, and the dogs' kennels, moreover, had been
placed round it. Now we have thrown out all the snow upon the ice, and
the panes of glass in the skylight have been duly cleared and cleaned.

"Monday, March 26th. We are lying motionless--no drift. How long will
this last? Last equinox how proud and triumphant I was! The whole
world looked bright; but now I am proud no longer.

"The sun mounts up and bathes the ice-plain with its radiance. Spring
is coming, but brings no joys with it. Here it is as lonely and cold
as ever. One's soul freezes. Seven more years of such life--or say
only four--how will the soul appear then? And she...? If I dared to
let my longings loose--to let my soul thaw. Ah! I long more than I
dare confess.

"I have not courage to think of the future.... And how will it be at
home, when year after year rolls by and no one comes?

"I know this is all a morbid mood; but still this inactive, lifeless
monotony, without any change, wrings one's very soul. No struggle,
no