“And this iceberg has more significance than the great flood which the glacier’s southern sister, the broad Amazon, pours into the ocean from the slopes of the Andes and the mountains of Brazil. Solemn, stately, and erect, in tempest and in calm, it rides the deep. The restless waves resound through its broken archways and thunder against its adamantean walls. Clouds, impenetrable as those which shielded the graceful form of Arethusa, clothe it in the morning; under the bright blaze of the noonday sun it is armoured in glittering silver; it robes itself in the gorgeous colours of evening; and in the silent night the heavenly orbs are mirrored in its glassy surface. Drifting snows whirl over it in the winter, and the sea-gulls swarm round it in the summer. The last rays of departing day linger upon its lofty spires; and when the long darkness is past it catches the first gleam of the returning light, and its gilded dome heralds the coming morn. The elements combine to render tribute to its matchless beauty. Its loud voice is wafted to the shore, and the earth rolls it from crag to crag among the echoing hills. The sun steals through the veil of radiant fountains which flutter over it in the summer winds, and the rainbow on its pallid cheek betrays the warm kiss. The air crowns it with wreaths of soft vapour, and the waters around it take the hues of the emerald and the sapphire. In fulfilment of its destiny it moves steadily onward in its blue pathway through the varying seasons and under the changeful skies. Slowly, as in ages long gone by it arose from the broad waters, so does it sink back into them. It is indeed a noble symbol of the Law,—a monument of Time’s slow changes, more ancient than the Egyptian Pyramids or the obelisk of Heliopolis. Its crystals were dewdrops and snowflakes long before the human race was born in Eden.” By the 28th October, 74 reindeer, 21 foxes, 12 hares, 1 seal, 14 eider ducks, 8 dovekies, 6 auks, and 1 ptarmigan had been shot and brought on board. In addition to these, some 20 to 30 reindeer had been cached in various places. Hayes naturally came to the conclusion that men might live indefinitely at Port Foulke without being troubled with scurvy. On the 19th November, one of the Esquimaux, Peter, disappeared. For some time Hayes had observed a rivalry between Hans and Peter, and he took the side of the latter. Hans was jealous of every act of favour towards Peter, and Hayes was inclined to believe that Hans had been the means of frightening Peter and of making him run off. No news was received as to his whereabouts until months afterwards, when some Esquimaux found his dead body in a hut a long distance from the ship.