afterwards, illness becoming more general, four of
them went into a bath. "When we came
out our barber gave us a purgation, which
did us much good." Food falling shorter still,
"we made springes to get foxes; for it stood
us upon to doe it, because they served us for
meat, as if God had sent them purposely for
us, for wee had not much meate." The foxes
then were eaten thankfully by these good
Arctic travellers, and of their skins caps were
made "to keepe them warme from the
extreame cold."

On the third of December they lay snowed-in
within their hut, suffering sore cold
because they dared not make much fire; so
great was the torment of the smoke. In a
small fire they heated stones to put against
their feet; and lay, with the walls of their
hut, and even the sides of the cots in which
they slept, covered two fingers thick with ice.
As they lay thus, they heard upon that day a
huge noise made in the sea by the bursting
and cracking of great ice hills, fathoms thick.
Then followed an easterly wind with
"extreame cold, almost not to be indured;
whereupon," says the narrator, "we lookt pitifully
one upon the other, being in great feare that
if the extremity of the cold grew to be more
and more we should all die there with cold;
for that what fire soever we made would not
warm us." Then followed the experiment
with sea-coals, and days afterwards "although
some of us were of opinion that we should
lay more coles upon the fire to warme us, and
that we should let the chimney stand open,
yet we durst not do it, fearing the like
danger we had escaped." On the sixteenth of
December all the store of wood was burnt;
and whatever more they used had to be dug
out by the sailors from beneath the snows
by which they were surrounded. Then they
began to comfort each other with hopes of
the returning sun; although by the twenty-
seventh of December, the cold had increased
so much, that neither fire nor covering, could
warm them. They lay with hot stones, not
only at their feet but on their bodies; yet
they froze at their backs while their shins
were burning; and as they sat within their
hut "were all as white as the country-men
use to be when they come in at the gates of
the towne in Holland with their sleads, and
have gone all night." One of their constant
occupations was to mend the holes each man
was perpetually burning in his stockings.

While thus bound to the house, the
provisions of these men had to be eked out by
still further reduction of allowances; and the
wood failing when it was impossible to go
abroad for more, they cut up for fire-wood
their chopping block, and all the superfluous
wood-work they could chip away from the
walls and rafters of their dwelling. On the
fourth of January, being still locked in by
frost, they thrust a pole out at their chimney
with a little flag on it, to see which way the
wind blew. Their flag froze instantly and
became as hard as wood; so that it did not
stir with the wind, and they only learnt by it
that the cold outside was excessive. But
their spirit was not broken. In that house of
theirs they kept stout hearts, as is easily
seen by passages like the following, which
end the record of the fifth of January. "And
when we had taken paines al day, we
remembered ourselves that it was Twelf Even; and
then we prayed our maister that we might be
merry that night, and said that we were
content to spend some of the wine that night
which we had spared, and which was our
share" (one glass) "every second day, and
whereof for certaine daies we had not drunke;
and so that night we made merry and drew
for king. And therewith we had two pound
of meale whereof we made pancakes with oyle,
and every man had a white biscuit which we
sopt in the wine. And so supposing that we
were in our owne country and amongst our
friends, it comforted us well as if we had made
a great banket in our owne house. And we also
made tickets, and our gunner was king of
Nova Zembla, which is at least eight hundred
miles long, and lyeth betweene two seas."

Other and greater sufferings were yet to
be endured, and were endured without a murmur;
great efforts were to be made, and were
made. Barents himself did not return home
alive; but the survivors of the expedition,
in two little open boats built by themselves
in the dominions of the gunner, did at last
cross the seas that parted them from home
—a voyage of almost two thousand English
miles.

From the first we turn now to the last
winterers at the Pole; men placed in equal
peril, having indeed a stronger ship and all
the resources of our modern art and science
spent on their behalf; but placed in conditions
of even more imminent peril, and
possessing less reason than the Dutchmen had
to hope for escape. We note down first a
little picture illustrative of the kind of
intercourse that is established between Arctic
voyagers and the few natives of those regions
with whom they are brought into communication.
"Many were dancing with our men;
and so mutually happy were all parties, that
it was near six o'clock before I could get them
to leave the ship; indeed, had not the
interpreter told them that we were going towards
the pack, and would not again come near
their tents, I very much question if we should
have got them away without compulsion.
We understood from them that the main
pack is permanent, never leaving the shore
above twelve or fourteen miles. They designate
it 'the land of the White Bear,' as it
abounds with these animals; which they
appeared rather to dread; as, when we stood
towards the pack in the forenoon, they
entreated not to be left there, for they were
fearful of the bears now that so many of
their women were with them. One mother