Looking up, Eric saw myriads of stars twinkling down upon him from unknown heights, like friendly eyes encouraging him on his way. For a moment he stood still; the silence was now as overpowering as the storm had been; everything around him was bathed in a cold hard light, the whiteness of which ceaselessly burnt into his brain. Suddenly a little bluey flame came dancing out of the distance, then another, and another, always more numerous, till the whole expanse was covered with them; a wavering army of little lights, like thousands of lost souls coming together for a last parade in this land of the forgotten. Eric tried to seize one with his frozen fingers, but no sooner had he thought to grasp it than it slid away like a shape in a dream. Then with childlike eagerness he began a mad chase after the elusive little flames, running to and fro in the moonlight in an effort to catch them, yet never succeeding; there were always more and more lights tempting him onwards over that desert of snow. At last he laughed aloud, standing still to watch the little blue flames float away into the unknown out of which they had come, one after another like a long procession of pilgrims in the night.... They became always smaller and smaller, seeming to beckon to him as they disappeared, inviting him to follow once more in a mad chase over the hard frozen snow. A glow had spread over Eric's cheeks, his eyes sparkled, and the moon reflected herself within them. He uncovered his head, throwing back his golden locks with a boyish gesture, whilst he stood still to watch the wonder of this northern night so clear and dazzling. As he waited with arms outstretched trying to grasp all the beauty to his heart, the artist in him keenly alive to his surroundings, he discerned a shadow approaching, followed by a second and then a third. And as they came nearer he realized that they were great white bears hardly to be distinguished from their background. Our wanderer felt no thrill of fear, the great beasts were so completely in keeping with their surroundings; their white skins harmonized perfectly with the immaculate snow. They came slowly towards him, quiet and majestic, slightly swinging their heavy bodies as they glided onwards. He could count about twenty. Their huge soft feet marked also a little road on the even surface which would soon join the one Eric had made from the opposite direction. Now they were quite near; their warm breath made little clouds before them that surrounded their pointed heads like a mist. Eric watched, fascinated, and made no movement to get out of their way. The first reached him, and without taking the slightest notice passed on, making a small circle, but did not pause in his quiet march; and the others followed in the traces his feet had left behind him, ten, twenty, thirty. Eric counted them and always more and more came noiselessly over the snow.