About the 20th of January a faint gleam of light on the horizon told of the coming day. It was hailed with rapture, and long before the bright sun himself appeared on the southern horizon the most of the men made daily excursions to the neighbouring hilltops to catch sight of as much as possible of his faint rays. Day by day those rays expanded, and at last a sort of _dawn_ enlightened a distant portion of their earth, which, faint though it was at first, had much the appearance in their eyes of a bright day. But time wore on, and _real_ day appeared. The red sun rose in all its glory, showed a rim of its glowing disk above the frozen sea, and then sank, leaving a long gladsome smile of twilight behind. This great event happened on the 19th of February, and would have occurred sooner, but for the high cliffs to the southward which intervened between the ship and the horizon. On the day referred to, a large party was formed to go to the top of the cliffs at Red-Snow Valley to welcome back the sun. "There's scarce a man left behind," remarked Captain Guy, as they started on this truly joyous expedition. "Only Mizzle, sir," said Buzzby, slapping his hands together, for the cold was intense; "he said as how he'd stop and have dinner ready agin our return." There was a general laugh from the men, who knew that the worthy cook had other reasons for not going--namely, his shortness of wind, and his inveterate dislike to ascend hills. "Come, Fred," cried Captain Ellice, who had completely recovered from his accident, "I shall be quite jealous of your friend Singleton if you bestow so much of your company on him. Walk with me, sirrah, I command you, as I wish to have a chat." "You are unjust to me," replied Fred, taking his father's arm, and falling with him a little to the rear of the party; "Tom complains that I have quite given him up of late." "Och! isn't it a purty sight," remarked O'Riley to Mivins, "to see us all goin' out like good little childers to see the sun rise of a beautiful mornin' like this?" "So it _his_," answered Mivins; "but I wish it wasn't quite so cold." It was indeed cold--so cold that the men had to beat their hands together, and stamp their feet, and rush about like real children, in order to keep their bodies warm. This month of February was the coldest they had yet experienced. Several times the thermometer fell to the unexampled temperature of 75° below zero, or 107° below the freezing-point of water. When we remind our young readers that the thermometer in England seldom falls so low as zero, except in what we term weather of the utmost severity, they may imagine--or rather, they may try to imagine--what 75° _below_ zero must have been. It was not quite so cold as that upon this occasion, otherwise the men could not have shown face to it. "Let's have leap-frog," shouted Davie; "we can jump along as well as walk along. Hooray! _hup_!"