1. THE coldest day we had during this expedition was the 14th of March. By six o’clock on the morning of that day the Tyrolese and I stood on the summit of the precipitous face of the Sonklar-Glacier. The others remained behind to clear the tent of snow, and to bury a small depôt of provisions in an iceberg which was close at hand. The sun had not yet risen, though a golden gleam behind the glaciers of Salm Island indicated his near approach. At last the sun himself appeared, blood-red, glowing with indistinct outline through the mists, and surrounded with parhelia, which generally occur when the cold is great. The tops of the high snowy mountains were first touched with rosy light, which gradually descended and spread over the icy plains, and the sun like a ball of fire shone at length clearly through the frosty mist, and everything around seemed on fire. As the sun even at noon was but a few degrees above the horizon, this wonderful colouring lasted throughout the day, and the mountains, whose steepest sides were covered with a frosty efflorescence, shone like glass in this radiant light. The alcohol thermometer soon after we came on the glacier fell to 59° 1′ (F.) below zero,[34] and a light breeze blowing from the interior, which would have been pleasant enough on a March day in Europe, exposed me, while engaged in the indispensable work of drawing and measuring, to such danger, that though I worked under the shelter of my Tyrolese companions as a protection against the cold, I was constantly compelled to rub my stiffened and benumbed hands with snow. We had taken some rum with us, and as each took his share, he knelt down and allowed another to shake it into his mouth, without bringing the metal cup in contact with his lips. This rum, though it was strong, seemed to have lost all its strength and fluidity. It tasted like innocent milk, and its consistence was that of oil. The bread was frozen so hard that we feared to break our teeth in biting it, and it brought blood as we ate it. The attempt to smoke a cigar was a punishment rather than an enjoyment, because the icicles on our beards always put them out, and when we took them out of our mouths they were frozen. Even the shortest pipes met the same fate. The instruments I used in surveying seemed to burn when I touched them, and the medals which my companions wore on their breasts felt like hot iron. [Illustration: ON THE SONKLAR-GLACIER.]