When the fog cleared we were many miles to seaward, and the rock-bound coast of Europe showed only as a dark line against the horizon. Torrence said there was nothing to prevent our going into the cuddy for a sleep, which we needed, that in our present position there was no danger; that collision was impossible, and falling equally so. That the air ship was headed for Spitzbergen, and could take care of herself—in short, that we should be just as safe as if sleeping in the Mustapha. I suggested the possibility of icebergs but he explained that we were above the altitude of the highest ever known in this quarter, and that, moreover, it was improbable that any would be passed at this season and this locality. And so, taking his word for it, we both turned in and slept ten hours without waking. At the end of that time we felt like new men, and climbed up on deck to look out. A dull gray sea, bounded only by the sky-line, was rushing away beneath, and so far as I could tell, our speed and elevation had remained unchanged. Despite my brother’s assurance, I could not help feeling that we had taken an awful risk about the icebergs; but when he told me that the ice masses formed off Spitzbergen were greatly inferior in size to those coming down from Greenland, I was better satisfied. Indeed, it was very rare, he said, that an iceberg in this part of the ocean was more than one hundred and fifty to two hundred feet in height; they were differently shaped, being flat on top, and covering considerable area, but never high; while our own altitude was more than a thousand feet. Torrence had made quite a study of the polar regions, and I had great confidence in his judgment. On we sped—I cannot say during the day, for there was no night, although we kept a record of the time, and at regular intervals darkened our sleeping apartments to delude ourselves into the belief that it was night above. While on watch we sunk to a lower level, as being warmer, although it was getting to be the time of year when the mercury seldom falls below freezing even in this latitude. Occasional masses of ice were now passed, though none of any considerable size, and I can truthfully say that, except when above the clouds, we had not, so far, suffered from cold. About thirty hours after leaving the North Cape of Norway the irregular, saw-shaped outline of Spitzbergen peeped above the horizon. Our passage had been uneventful, and as we neared the barren shores of the west island, there was nothing to invite us to linger. We decided, however, to land for a short time before pursuing our journey northward.