On the 23d the _Vega_ was again steaming forward among the fields of drift-ice. The difficulties of voyaging through unknown waters overhung with fogs and mists may better be understood by an anecdote described by Nordenskjöld, which illustrates how completely a person may be deceived by size and distance of objects:— “One can scarcely, without having experienced it,” he writes, “form any idea of the optical illusions, which are produced by mist, in regions where the size of the objects which are visible through fog is not known beforehand, and thus does not give the spectator an idea of the distance. Our estimate of the distance and size in such cases depends wholly on accident. The obscure contours of the fog-concealed objects themselves, besides, are often by the ignorance of the spectator converted into whimsical fantastic forms. During a boat journey in Hinlopen Strait I once intended to row among drift-ice to an island at a distance of some few kilometres. When the boat started, the air was clear, but while we were employed, as best we could, in shooting sea-fowl for dinner, all was wrapt in a thick mist, and that so unexpectedly, that we had not time to take the bearings of the island. This led to a not altogether pleasant row by guess among the pieces of ice that were drifting about in rapid motion in the sound. All exerted themselves as much as possible to get sight of the island, whose beach would afford us a safe resting-place. While thus occupied, a dark border was seen through the mist at the horizon. It was taken for the island which we were bound for, and it was not at first considered remarkable that the dark border rose rapidly, for we thought that the mist was dispersing and in consequence of that more of the land was visible. Soon two white snow-fields that we had not observed before, were seen on both sides of the land, and immediately after this was changed to a sea monster, resembling a walrus-head as large as a mountain. This got life and motion, and finally sank all at once to the head of a common walrus, which lay on a piece of ice in the neighbourhood of the boat; the white tusks formed the snow-fields and the dark brown round head the mountain. Scarce was this illusion gone when one of the men cried out, ‘Land right ahead—high land!’ We now all saw before us a high Alpine region, with mountain peaks and glaciers, but this too sank a moment afterwards all at once to a common ice-border, blackened with earth. In the spring of 1873 Phelander and I with nine men made a sledge journey round Northeast Land. In the course of this journey a great many bears were seen and killed. When a bear was seen while we were dragging our sledge forward, the train commonly stood still, and, not to frighten the bear, all the men concealed themselves behind the sledges, with the exception of the marksman, who, squatting down in some convenient place, waited till his prey should come sufficiently in range to be killed with certainty.