reat numbers of the feathered tribes were moving
about, either because they meant to retire at dissipatedly late, or had
risen at unreasonably early, hours. Among them he clearly distinguished
the musical note of the long-tailed duck and the harsh scream of the
great northern diver, while the profound calmness of the weather enabled
him to hear at intervals the soft blow and the lazy plash of a white
whale, turning, it might be, on his other side in his water-bed on the
Arctic Sea.

Following the whale's example, Leo turned round at last, buried his face
in a reindeer pillow, and took refuge in oblivion.

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

A GLORIOUS REGION CONTEMPLATED, AND A GLORIOUS CHASE PLANNED.

Leo did not slumber long. Very early in the morning he awoke with that
sensation about him which told that at that time further repose was not
attainable. He therefore rose, donned the few garments which he had put
off on lying down, crept through his tunnel, and emerged into the open
air.

And what a vision of glorious beauty met his enraptured eyes, while the
fresh sea-breeze entered, like life, into his heaving chest! It was
still a profound calm. Earth, air, water, sky, seemed to be uniting in
a silent act of adoration to their great Creator, while the myriad
creatures therein contained were comparatively quiet in the enjoyment of
His rich and varied bounties. It seemed as if the hour were too early
for the strife of violent passions--too calm for the stirrings of hatred
or revenge. Everything around spoke only of peace. Sitting down with
his back to a sun-bathed rock, and his face to the silver sea, Leo drew
out his Bible and proceeded to read the records of the Prince of Peace.

As he lifted his eyes from the words, "marvellous are thy works, and
that my soul knoweth right well," to the vision of beauty and life that
lay before him, Leo made the words and the thought, for the first time,
_his own_.

The prospect embraced innumerable islands of all sizes, studding like
gems the gently-heaving sea. Over these, countless millions of
sea-birds flew or sailed to and fro; some with the busy fluttering of
activity, as if they had something to do and a mind to do it; others
loitering idly on the wing, or dipping lightly on the wave, as if to bid
their images good-morning. Burgomaster, yellow-legged, and pink-beaked
gulls, large and small, wheeled in widening circles round him.
Occasional flocks of ptarmigan, in the