does not set at all; and during the other season there is _one long
night_, in which the sun is never seen. It was approaching the height of
the summer season when the _Dolphin_ entered the Arctic Regions, and,
although the sun descended below the horizon for a short time each
night, there was scarcely any diminution of the light at all, and, as
far as one's sensations were concerned, there was but one long
continuous day, which grew brighter and brighter at midnight as they
advanced.

"How thoroughly splendid this is!" remarked Tom Singleton to Fred one
night, as they sat in their favourite outlook, the main-top, gazing down
on the glassy sea, which was covered with snowy icebergs and floes, and
bathed in the rays of the sun; "and how wonderful to think that the sun
will only set for an hour or so, and then get up as splendid as ever!"

The evening was still as death. Not a sound broke upon the ear save the
gentle cries of a few sea-birds that dipped ever and anon into the sea,
as if to kiss it gently while asleep, and then circled slowly into the
bright sky again. The sails of the ship, too, flapped very gently, and a
spar creaked plaintively, as the vessel rose and fell on the gentle
undulations that seemed to be the breathing of the ocean. But such
sounds did not disturb the universal stillness of the hour; neither did
the gambols of yonder group of seals and walruses that were at play
round some fantastic blocks of ice; nor did the soft murmur of the swell
that broke in surf at the foot of yonder iceberg, whose blue sides were
seamed with a thousand watercourses, and whose jagged pinnacles rose up
like needles of steel into the clear atmosphere.

There were many bergs in sight, of various shapes and sizes, at some
distance from the ship, which caused much anxiety to the captain,