if they were made of alabaster and precious stones; and the sea a deep purple, or sometimes blue, with streaks of yellow and red. You’d think it was cold enough there, but the summer up in the North is one long day, with the sun in the sky all the time; and I have known it pretty hot there—hot enough to set the icebergs melting, and the water rushing down their sides in fountains. Now and then, when the under part is worn away, they get top-heavy, and over they go, just like a porpoise making a somersault. It does not do to be near them on those occasions, for they’d send the stoutest ship to the bottom in a moment; and even at a distance I have known bits of ice come down on the deck big enough to crack a blackamoor’s head, though we were many fathoms off it.

“As I said, the summer is short, and that is the only time ships can sail about, and make their way among the ice. Then comes the winter, and terribly long that is; it lasts well-nigh ten months, and for all that time the ship is shut up just as fast as if she was in a dock with the entrance closed by stone. There she lies, housed over, with topgallant-masts struck, and if it was not for the stoves below, which must be kept alight at all hours of the day and night, people would be frozen to death: I have heard, indeed, of a whole ship’s company being turned into ice. For many days during the time the sun is below the horizon, and there is one long night; the stars, however, when the sky is clear, shine brightly, and sometimes the Northern lights blaze up and sparkle, and people can see their way over the ice, but it is not pleasant travelling, and one has to wear wonderfully thick clothing, and mits on the hands, and to cover up all but the eyes, nose, and mouth, or a man would get frost—bitten very quickly. Then bears come prowling about, and they are awkward customers to meet alone, for they have powerful jaws and sharp claws, and one hug is enough to squeeze the breath out of a person. They have carried off many a poor fellow who has wandered away from his ship. Besides the bears there are Arctic foxes, with white fur, and though they do not attack a fellow on his feet with a thick stick in his hand, yet I do not know how they would treat him if they found him lying down unable to defend himself.

“Sometimes ships, before they can get into harbour, are caught in the ice, and have to pass the winter out in the sea, if they have time to cut a dock before the ice presses on them. They may thus be tolerably secure, but I have known ships to be crushed to atoms before they have had time to do that, and their crews have had to get on board other ships, or make for the land, and spend the winter there in snow huts; or they have perished. Still, many people have passed two and three winters together in the Arctic regions, and have kept their health and been happy, when they have had sufficient firing and good food. On one of those occasions I learned to read and write, which I did not know how to do before, and much use it has been to me ever since.

“Then we had amusements of all sorts. We rigged a theatre on board, and acted plays and recited, and had a masquerade, and funny sort of dresses we appeared in. But we had work to do also; we had to build a wall of snow round the ship, so that in cold weather we were protected from the wind when we took our exercise, running round and round inside it. The worst part of the business was the long night and the bitter cold, for it was cold, I can tell you; and glad enough we were when we saw the sun rising just above the hillocks of ice far away to the southward, and though for some time it was for a very short period above the horizon, yet day after day at noon it appeared higher and higher, and its rays shed some warmth down upon us.

“Still the winter was not over, and our captain arranged to make some journeys to explore the country. In that part of the world dogs are often used to draw sleighs, but as we had no dogs we were compelled to drag them ourselves, about five men to each sleigh, which is a sort of long carriage without wheels, with iron runners like two skates placed under it, and the goods lashed along on the top. We carried our provisions, tents, and cooking utensils. When the ice was smooth it was pretty easy travelling, but we often had to drag the sleighs up steep places, over hillocks, and rough ground, and then it was heavy work, and we could only make good a few miles a day.

“A man need be pretty strong and hardy to go through that sort of work. At night we slept inside our tents, as close together as we could pack, the only warmth we could obtain being from the spirit lamps we carried, which served also to warm up our cocoa and cook our food. I was not sorry when the journey was over, though we were merry enough during it. At length we got out of harbour, but we had still not a few dangers to encounter. Sometimes we were nearly driven on shore by the floes of ice pressing on us; at others we ran a great risk of being nipped by getting between two floes which approached each other; then there was the chance of the icebergs falling down on us. We several times had to cut our way with saws through the ice to get into open water. We were heartily glad when we were free altogether, and sailing along with a fair wind over the ocean to the southward, leaving the world of ice astern. However, I should be ready to go again, and so would most fellows who were with me, I have a notion.”

“That’s more than I should, after what I have heard,” observed the Count to the Baron. “I object excessively to take a trip to the North Pole, wherever else we may go. I have no fancy, either, to be sent to the bottom by a waterspout.”

“Wherever we go we may expect to meet with some danger or other,” said the Baron. “It adds zest to the pleasure of travelling.”

“I would rather avoid the zest,” said the Count. “But shall we ask these brave fellows what ship they belong to. Perhaps she’s not going to the North Pole or the Indian Seas on this occasion, and they evidently form a sturdy crew. Will you speak to them or shall I?”

“I’ll address them,” said the Baron, and stepping up to the seamen, he said—

“Brave sailors, I have heard the account your shipmate has been giving you of his adventures, and as we are desirous of sailing round the world, we should be glad to take a passage on board the ship to which you belong.”

“Unless you were to chop yourselves up into a good many portions you’d find that a hard matter, master,” answered one of the seamen. “We all happen, do ye see, to belong to different ships, and some don’t belong to any ship at all, and when we do sail, the chances are we go to as many parts of the world.”

“Then, most gallant sailors, will you have the kindness to inform us what ship is likely next to sail from this port, and whither is she bound?” said the Baron.

“As to that, I heard old Jan Dunck, skipper of the galiot Golden Hog, saying that he was about to sail for Amsterdam with the next tide. It wants but an hour or so to that time, and if you look sharp about it you may get on board and make your arrangements with him before he trips his anchor,” answered the sailor.

“Thanks, brave sailors, for the information you have afforded us,” said the Baron. “You will confer a further favour if you will show us where the said galiot Golden Hog lies at anchor. Among this vast fleet of shipping we should otherwise have considerable difficulty in discovering her, and my friend Count Funnibos will, I am sure, reward you handsomely.”

“Reward is neither