The effect of the prolonged darkness upon these animals was most extraordinary. Every attention was paid to their wants; they were kept below, tended, fed, cleansed, caressed, and _doctored_; still they grew worse and worse. Strange to say, their disease was as clearly _mental_ as in the case of any human being. There was no physical disorganization; they ate voraciously; they slept soundly, they retained their strength. But first they were stricken by epilepsy, and this was followed by true lunacy. They barked frenziedly at nothing; they walked in straight and curved lines with anxious and unwearying perseverance. They fawned on the seamen, but without seeming to appreciate any caresses bestowed upon them; pushing their head against the friend who noticed them, or oscillating with a strange pantomime of fear. Their most intelligent actions seemed of an automatic character; sometimes they clawed at their masters, as if seeking to burrow into their seal-skins; sometimes they preserved for hours a moody silence, and then started off howling, as if pursued, and ran to and fro for a considerable period. When spring returned Dr. Kane had to mourn the loss of nine splendid Newfoundland and thirty-five Eskimo dogs; of the whole pack only six survived, and one of these was unfit for draught. Having dwelt at some length on the characteristics of the Arctic winter, we now turn to consider those of the Arctic spring. This begins in April, but does not exhibit itself in all the freshness of its beauty until May. The temperature rises daily in the interval; the winter fall of snow, which has so long shrouded the gaunt hills and lain upon the valleys, rolls up before the rays of the rising sun; and the melted snow pours in noisy torrents and flashing cascades through the rugged ravines and over the dark sides of the lofty cliffs: everywhere the air resounds with the din of falling waters. Early in June the traveller sees with delight the signs of returning vegetation. The willow-stems grow green with the fresh and living sap; mosses, and poppies, and saxifrages, and the cochlearia, with other hardy plants, begin to sprout; the welcome whirr of wings is brought upon the breeze; the cliffs are alive with the little auks; flocks of stately eider-ducks sail into the creeks and sounds; the graceful terns scream and dart over the sea; the burgomasters and the gyrfalcons move to and fro with greater dignity; the long-tailed duck fills the echoes with its shrill voice; the snipes hover about the fresh-water pools; the sparrows chirp from rock to rock; long lines of cackling geese sail in the blue clearness overhead on their way to a remoter north; the walrus and the seal bask on the ice-floes which have broken up into small rafts, and drift lazily with the currents; and a fleet of icebergs move southwards in solemn and stately procession, their spires and towers flashing and coruscating in the sunlight. [Illustration: ADVENT OF SPRING IN THE POLAR REGIONS.]