_Winter ends--The first insect--Preparations for departure--Narrow
escape--Cutting out--Once more afloat--Ship on fire--Crew take to the
boats._
Winter passed away, with its darkness and its frost, and, happily, with
its sorrows; and summer--bright, glowing summer--came at last, to
gladden the heart of man and beast in the Polar Regions.
We have purposely omitted to make mention of spring, for there is no
such season, properly so called, within the Arctic Circle. Winter
usually terminates with a gushing thaw, and summer then begins with a
blaze of fervent heat. Not that the heat is really so intense as
compared with that of southern climes, but the contrast is so great that
it _seems_ as though the Torrid Zones had rushed towards the Pole.
About the beginning of June there were indications of the coming heat.
Fresh water began to trickle from the rocks, and streamlets commenced to
run down the icebergs. Soon everything became moist, and a marked change
took place in the appearance of the ice-belt, owing to the pools that
collected on it everywhere and overflowed.
Seals now became more numerous in the neighbourhood, and were
frequently killed near the _atluks_, or holes, so that fresh meat was
secured in abundance, and the scurvy received a decided check. Reindeer,
rabbits, and ptarmigan, too, began to frequent the bay, so that the
larder was constantly full, and the mess-table presented a pleasing
variety--rats being no longer the solitary dish of fresh meat at every
meal.
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