_
The wisest of men has told us that "it is a pleasant thing for the eyes
to behold the sun," but only those who spend a winter in the Arctic
Regions can fully appreciate the import of that inspired saying.
It is absolutely essential to existence that the bright beams of the
great luminary should fall on animal as well as plant. Most of the poor
dogs died for want of this blessed light, and had it been much longer
withheld, doubtless our navigators would have sunk also.
About the 20th of January a faint gleam of light on the horizon told of
the coming day. It was hailed with rapture, and long before the bright
sun himself appeared on the southern horizon the most of the men made
daily excursions to the neighbouring hilltops to catch sight of as much
as possible of his faint rays. Day by day those rays expanded, and at
last a sort of _dawn_ enlightened a distant portion of their earth,
which, faint though it was at first, had much the appearance in their
eyes of a bright day. But time wore on, and _real_ day appeared. The red
sun rose in all its glory, showed a rim of its glowing disk above the
frozen sea, and then sank, leaving a long gladsome smile of twilight
behind. This great event happened on the 19th of February, and would
have occurred sooner, but for the high cliffs to the southward which
intervened between the ship and the horizon.
On the day referred to, a large party was formed to go to the top of the
cliffs at Red-Snow Valley to welcome back the sun.
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