Front Cover
 Title Page
 Table of Contents
 First evening
 Second evening
 Third evening
 Fourth evening
 Fifth evening
 Sixth evening
 Seventh evening
 Eighth evening
 Ninth evening
 Tenth evening
 Eleventh evening
 Twelfth evening
 Back Cover

Title: Winter in Spitzbergen
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00002136/00001
 Material Information
Title: Winter in Spitzbergen a book for youth
Physical Description: 300, <12> p., <1> leaf of plates : ill. ; 18 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Hildebrandt, Johann Andreas Christoph, 1763-1846
Smith, E. Goodrich ( Elizur Goodrich ), 1802-1873 ( Translator )
Dodd, Moses Woodruff, 1813-1899 ( Publisher )
Craighead, Robert ( Printer )
Smith, Thomas B., 19th cent ( Stereotyper )
Felter, John D ( Engraver )
Publisher: M. W. Dodd
Place of Publication: New York
Manufacturer: R. Craighead
Publication Date: 1852
Copyright Date: 1851
Subject: Boys -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Castaways -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Shipwrecks -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Rescues -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Description and travel -- Juvenile fiction -- Spitsbergen Island (Norway)   ( lcsh )
Robinsonades -- 1852   ( rbgenr )
Pictorial cloth bindings (Binding) -- 1852   ( rbbin )
Publishers' catalogues -- 1852   ( rbgenr )
Bldn -- 1852
Genre: Robinsonades   ( rbgenr )
Pictorial cloth bindings (Binding)   ( rbbin )
Publishers' catalogues   ( rbgenr )
novel   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: United States -- New York -- New York
General Note: Publisher's catalogue follows text.
General Note: Stereotyped by T.B. Smith.
General Note: Illustrations engraved by (John D.?) Felter.
Statement of Responsibility: From the German of C. Hildebrandt by E. Goodrich Smith.
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00002136
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: ltqf - AAA2294
notis - ALH1876
oclc - 06783990
alephbibnum - 002231498

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Page i
        Page ii
    Title Page
        Page iii
        Page iv
    Table of Contents
        Page v
        Page vi
        Page vii
        Page viii
    First evening
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
    Second evening
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
        Page 42
        Page 43
    Third evening
        Page 44
        Page 45
        Page 46
        Page 47
        Page 48
        Page 49
        Page 50
        Page 51
        Page 52
        Page 53
        Page 54
        Page 55
        Page 56
        Page 57
        Page 58
        Page 59
        Page 60
        Page 61
        Page 62
        Page 63
        Page 64
        Page 65
        Page 66
    Fourth evening
        Page 67
        Page 68
        Page 69
        Page 70
        Page 71
        Page 72
        Page 73
        Page 74
        Page 75
        Page 76
        Page 77
        Page 78
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        Page 86
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        Page 90
        Page 91
        Page 92
        Page 93
        Page 94
        Page 95
        Page 96
        Page 97
        Page 98
    Fifth evening
        Page 99
        Page 100
        Page 101
        Page 102
        Page 103
        Page 104
        Page 105
        Page 106
        Page 107
        Page 108
        Page 109
        Page 110
        Page 111
        Page 112
        Page 113
        Page 114
        Page 115
        Page 116
        Page 117
        Page 118
        Page 119
        Page 120
        Page 121
        Page 122
        Page 123
        Page 124
        Page 125
        Page 126
        Page 127
        Page 128
        Page 129
        Page 130
    Sixth evening
        Page 131
        Page 132
        Page 133
        Page 134
        Page 135
        Page 136
        Page 137
        Page 138
        Page 139
        Page 140
        Page 141
        Page 142
        Page 143
        Page 144
        Page 145
        Page 146
        Page 147
        Page 148
        Page 149
    Seventh evening
        Page 150
        Page 151
        Page 152
        Page 153
        Page 154
        Page 155
        Page 156
        Page 157
        Page 158
        Page 159
        Page 160
        Page 161
        Page 162
        Page 163
        Page 164
        Page 165
        Page 166
        Page 167
        Page 168
        Page 169
        Page 170
        Page 171
        Page 172
        Page 173
        Page 174
        Page 175
        Page 176
        Page 177
        Page 178
        Page 179
    Eighth evening
        Page 180
        Page 181
        Page 182
        Page 183
        Page 184
        Page 185
        Page 186
        Page 187
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        Page 191
        Page 192
        Page 193
        Page 194
        Page 195
        Page 196
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        Page 198
        Page 199
        Page 200
        Page 201
        Page 202
        Page 203
        Page 204
        Page 205
        Page 206
        Page 207
        Page 208
        Page 209
        Page 210
    Ninth evening
        Page 211
        Page 212
        Page 213
        Page 214
        Page 215
        Page 216
        Page 217
        Page 218
        Page 219
        Page 220
        Page 221
        Page 222
        Page 223
        Page 224
        Page 225
        Page 226
        Page 227
        Page 228
        Page 229
        Page 230
        Page 231
        Page 232
        Page 233
        Page 234
        Page 235
    Tenth evening
        Page 236
        Page 237
        Page 238
        Page 239
        Page 240
        Page 241
        Page 242
        Page 243
        Page 244
        Page 245
        Page 246
        Page 247
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        Page 249
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        Page 251
        Page 252
        Page 253
        Page 254
        Page 255
        Page 256
        Page 257
        Page 258
        Page 259
        Page 260
        Page 261
        Page 262
    Eleventh evening
        Page 263
        Page 264
        Page 265
        Page 266
        Page 267
        Page 268
        Page 269
        Page 270
        Page 271
        Page 272
        Page 273
        Page 274
        Page 275
        Page 276
        Page 277
        Page 278
        Page 279
        Page 280
        Page 281
        Page 282
        Page 283
        Page 284
        Page 285
        Page 286
        Page 287
        Page 288
        Page 289
    Twelfth evening
        Page 290
        Page 291
        Page 292
        Page 293
        Page 294
        Page 295
        Page 296
        Page 297
        Page 298
        Page 299
        Page 300
        Page 301
        Page 302
        Page 303
        Page 304
        Page 305
        Page 306
        Page 307
        Page 308
        Page 309
        Page 310
        Page 311
        Page 312
    Back Cover
        Page 313
        Page 314
Full Text



a Inutk far fnuti.






FaJf4 LmwAiriing In Act or Congr"F, it Lbt yWa LFLI,
I ib b CIOe&" Ofele of L8 alouto Mirl tt of New YoLrk
r,-rr~i, ~ ----^I-L1I --

ML Wilim SLri, Kw Ywt.

R- CkAjriaauAD, t-muN Rt
11s ftJiftz &xwLr

PRMLTM~u Aa conversatioo--C- mfort of long winter eve-
ningu-Subjecta of conversation--Map--The Northern
Ocean-The atory of Osarow-Iran ard Gregory-A
retles spirit-NMaval eadtst-Archeangdl-The Englia
captain-The North-wtut paassa-Evil advice-Filial
diobediaeca-The voyage bgun . . . .

A diseusiom-The two route to India-The deeirablen
of a shorter one-The deprture-Order on shipboard-
A pleasant begiining-Novr Zcmbls--Reefe-A long
day-The explanation sought for-The northern nd
eastern hore of Asia-A change of coure-A storm .80

An important cm~ri a n-A cientil lcture--Novel
apparatus-Story of Ivar and Gregory co'tiued-A
ield of ie-Ferilou poiitiou-Land diovered.-A
party enottoexplorit to e . . . .

Spitzbergen-The desolation of Winter-A mnver dis
coTverd-SigtaI Lrea-A sad oight-A great temper-


The rMlip dignrpiE~ r-Ti three friend aone on thd
isLnd-Qourag under (dtiffi tlrje- A alppy dihciwery-
A gretn vlli-y--IDrifn1-niid-Fisbiiig in hoaI water-
A ew cave-A gHld eipper, and a warra iKlxging 67. .


Curin'ily aroaAuid-A sudden a t'right-Attacked by a bear
-A asucceful cuLolicRt-Pr!jepriJn for a lung winter
ni[iht-Exploring the island-A hut-An unexpecaed
tenatl-Al amiiilinL l U ummyj-Thc onely burial-
The lat light of the pun-A bear -figl1t-ExaminiijiniL; Iln
hlt-Aut lolIgrlIphy of the mulnniv-A Dutch rhaler-
The ma effect uf rasalmD and = llwiLl--D ~t iptim and
plan of rha ilad . . . . . . . S


Clilii401 imaginiling-Sad f1rCIA,1iUsg. o; the three IOJB tary
fricndl--Ii- K. lcami uponL a tgin-- A lantern-A
ljlat-mjutL in e lIJetI--An unwelcome viaitor-A new m].-
ply of provison-A urther eplorati f the cavern
-H1I'uIJ I, A a M vilu.Jbli- ~jil.lv --A ad Ictstrophe 181


A *easn Ir [ tL--1mI.-A Lrir-Lt iad deperate dilemrua-
The oA poit in a fright--liht in darkne-Effrts to
ee.a[M-- 'li de~rr reo~t I w I' :le aveara-A kI jrjLumi
of I[s1r watfer-L- rattutLUe for unexipder i1L-livLriiiCL--
Tea driukiag and birtkillg (de$d to their co fortA--A


ladder-A further ineffBmtuml &earch-Anxious and di6-
turbed eiumher-Sewere olhd-A new supply of fuell-
A bear in the tren-The old piot alane-Ris faith in
Cod, and hia comfort in the Bible-Anxious wadLing fim
thereturnofhifrimads-A ate-bre on thediff 1 150

The two friends return ins frozen coditim--k w bathm
-They reeOrer, anrd relate their adventurR-Their amm.
munition failing, they contrive weapons of defren-e-De
want of salt. ane1 asubstitute-A great calamity-Tbe old
pilot ruprx sd tG be d-ead-The two disconnolate friends
-A lrial of reindeer-A Ipture--Ther return-orrow
turned to joy-Thvir kind attleotlaom!-Tbemr sudCam in
huntng-The bak-ovc" 1 6 IO

Whtt they fciind io tllh "b.ke- -Bcrag tlivu'rtFes
-Orh4r rmlsentutiret in thu frozen 4b-RKart trrres
Acas hk of Winipnwdter- A cre.ih-A rijIi.-w~eTr-A cAs
offour-The old pilut turned ma&I; and aiker-A vein
of racek-Rat-A cheerful aupper-Furtlier disMrvriieo Of'
guiok tlIink-5-An etXJ MnjVe M'b~illff! .of. fr211

Sabbath in tlhe caye-tJaua d f4m-olrtaimi-4-Tlie hat
b~eg~ed Ilv hleara-sqilhe-Tlw~r r~ii'gm nr~bd- ~rwi
er taken-The bear rFill.'Tced, marke a new and mIA ua ll
futl nnrtt-Are agsin repulsodI-The hbut repaired md
furiiifirl- A tlrri- tourrn-1Joy it the sight- of the sun
-1-efrartion expuirocd-Pbuturnirig 11xrnmr mAd rto -
ingehope. ............... ...... ... 286




Summer work; houae cleaning; house rLpairing; fishing
-An icy o il-A beacnn-Midsummnir-Anaious watch-
ing fur a vtsei-J)elminLtdency--Courage renewed by
trlus il G-od-A journey rlund the ialJad-A pleasant
apot-A sudden surprjie-Enjlish ailor~ make their
apELaralu. -The good old aptain-The band of Pruvi-
dee in sming aocidents-The ahip'es company iit
the hut-Provi"on ror future adylenturcrs-Departure
frinl the islanm]-van and Oregry's safe return to
Archangel . .. 968

Stry of the escape of he hip fro the peril of the ic 9


firit furling.

JrLI,. Suppose, then, w we re at a certain
time in our winter palace ?-now, farewell, trees
and flowers; in half a year I shall see you
MAMA. And welcome in the long winter
evenings, then, my dear spinning-wheel I and
thou, my knitting-needles, and you, too, my
books! We shall searely know how fast the
few winter months fly away I
GUSTAVUS. I shll know wel how to us
my winter quarters
MMiAL Butt i is to be hoped you will spare
us your eternal noisy drilling.
GUSTAVIs. That cannot be certainly kaown
yet I will be a soldier, and so I must exer

JULIA. Here in this room ?


G UsrTAV rs. Now, I will so far yield that I will
not march and exercise for whole hours. The
ground does not suit it. Ts it not so, brother?
MAX. Right. It is not fitted, either, for long
n arches,
MAu A. Mother, too, would make many s ri-
Ous objections, if you begin here again what
you have left off in the yard and garden.
G'srTAvrs. Don't trouble yourself You shall
have no inconvenience from our quartering here.
I will use Pmy time well.
MAx. That is my determination too. You
girls shall see, to your full satisfaction, how it
is possible for us to employ our time, and shall
have opportunity to lern many things.
JLuA We thank you. beforehand. You may
do as you please, if the spinning-wheel and the
needle does not disturb you.
MARIA. But. to speak seriously,-how we can
rightly employ the time, so as not to lose a mo-
ment I do nut know. Sir Winter has come in
so roughly, and in so unpleasant a mood, that,
if he goes on in this way-
G USTAVUS. Now we can meet the stern old
fellow. We have a warm room, light, com.
pauy, books-
JUUL And do not forget the main thing-
provisions; with you soldiers, this is the main

GUSTAVus. That is the main thing for fatheP
and mother. They have taken good care for the
MAX. And another important matter is, our
talks together--
JULIA. Which yoti will certainly take charge
of, Sir Doctor?
MAx. That is to be expected. I will il-
lingly do it to the test of my powers. But you
would like to know what I-I know.
MAnIA. What is it?
MAX. Yes, yes, you would be glad to know
what I know to tell you the truth, I am re-
joiced that winter has come.
GCSTAVu.s. Do not be so long in making
believe. Go ahead, and give us as well as you
can what you do knuw.
MAX. Hear, then You have often wondered
when father lately was more busy and active
than ever-when he went straight from the
table into his stuld ?
Gr 'TAVUS. Yes, inde d [ It occurred to me
that father did not take his usual walk-his
rounds in the garden. But what in the world
has that to do with our winter quarters, I
should like to know ?
MAX. A great deal. Father has many even-
ings in a week wholly at liberty this winter.
JULIA. Grand that will allow him to relate


something to us. He will go from the north
to the south.
GUSTAVUS. From Leipzig to Waterloo.
MAX. Now har further. You have often
missed me, have you not?
GU LTAV 's. Yes.
JULIA. How importLant the young man feels I
MAX. I bave always been with father. lHe
said to ime that he would relate some story
during the long wincr evenings, and so I have
examined and arranged all the maps, all the
skctches, enqravings and books-in short, every-
thing which is necessary for our instruction, so that
I may find every shetvt of paper in the desk.
GuSTiAVLvu Thaink you, dear Max. Now there
will be sonmetiing to be heart; many f:nS6us men
to be paraded out; many c-ltlebrated name coai
to light.
fAx. And manly thins will be made plain
to us which we l:ave o(! t. ] eretoilbre, fully known.
MAmA. Well, my spinning-wheel is at a
stand. It would give 'you tine yarn. But might
I not pyoI'rly advise botll you young sirs, you
Ihnal ,,.t.t4, I0ok around you l:ietirSi.l- for some
work to do?
MAx. Do not le troubled; I shall gather
and bind books.
GrTAvrsv. And I will trim them. My cse
of instrument has everything necessary.


JULIA. f I cannot go on with my spinning,
I will pick over the pela and beans.
.MARIA. That is well, dar Julia. You know
that father is never more cheerful than when all
with him are busy.
At this moment a maid-servant entered to
spread the talle fbr supper. Soon came the
fitiher adl mother; both of them llwoked cheer-
fully on their chilIlren, and they also looked up,
full of expectation, to their father.-" Now, ehil-
dren, are you not troubled about the weather?"
he asked.
MARIA. N0'o Winter must come, and the
sooner it lrgins the sooner it will go out.
GrrTArVUB, Our winter quarters, too, are
good; provisions and company not less so; and
these make it very endurable. As for march-
ing and encamping, indeed, it is not very conve-
JULIA. And the weather keeps our company
so friendly together.
MoniEta The time will pass away the more
agreeably when you know how to conne nue-
ful labors with pleamnt conversation..
MARIA. That Julia and I have both of ua
taken care of, dear mother. IIere stands my
spinning-wheel, and thtre lies for each of us a
set of knitting-needle.9.
FAnRB. And I will relate to you some



Atory. Max has, perhaps, already told you about
it. Will our winter evening then be long ?
ALL. No indeed I The watchman will warn us
of the hour uf the night sooner than we shall wish.
Cuntcnt and cheerful, the family ate their
moderate supper. The children had never
looked for its clos with such a longing deirc.
They knew what they might expect, for they
recollected the winter before, the long evenings
of which, notwithstanding all the storms and
unpleasant weather, had passed away so un-
noticed and so gaily. Now the table was cleared
away, and every child sought his place. All be-
gun their work, and the greatest silence reigned
throughout the room.
FATIER Now, children, what had you rather
MARtA. Ah, dear Father, you know best.
You know how many beautiful voyages we have
made round the world together.
JULIA. You meanI in thought.
MOTHEru. And you can lea more in this
way than many who travel in a coach.
IGuTTAVu. That is very true, mother. I can
draw out the plans of all the most remarkable
battles and sieges.
MAx. And I can trace the route of the voy-
ages and travels of Prince Maximilian andl Kote-



JULI.. "And Iknow Robinson Crusoe's island
and am well acquainted with his colony, as in
our little city. I can find my way all about.
I know where the hateful savage lived, and I
know, too, about Robinson Crusoe's and Friday's
hut as well as our own house.
FATHER. Then we shall begin a voyage, a
long voyage today. Will you readily follow and
not become tired?
GsTAVLS. Lead us as far as you will, we
will follow you.
FATHER. Very well-I shall hold you to
your wonl; but we must agree on something.
We can begin to-day one of two voyages, and
you may take your choice.
MARIA. How so?
FATHER. I can lead you into the coldet re-
gions of our earth, where eternal ice covers the
sea, where are perpetual snow, froat, and cold
into regions in which, tbr months, you pee the
sun, and then you los Bight of it for as long a
Or, I will go with you around Africa to the
Enat ladies, to the Island of Ceylon, but where
we must meet with tigers, and have to fight
with monstrous secrpents. Now it is for you to
choose where we shall go.
JULIA Ah, dear mother, do you decide for
us. Our opinions may be different, and th.a


will bring on rt dispute which will waste the
MOTITEl. Siall I do O, filthLr?
McOTER. Tlhn take a voyvae to the north.
The story will le s o much the more impres-
sive when the snow beat against the windows.
and the weathercock creakl in the storm. You
can much the more vividly conceive of what is
frightful in these countries, if you only tep to
the window.
JULIA, You are right, mother; and we have
also this advantage-that we shall only freeze
in imagination.
FATHER, Mfax, bring the maps. Spread them
out here on the table. Gu.stavus, what map is
that ?
GiSTAVI:s. Of Northern Rusia. Here is Mo-
jaisk, there SjL,:lenzko, wlier_ the great battles
were fought. Pl.i1t:wa. is not on it.
FATHE" a Becau1ise this ,ap only includes
Northern ltuis.li. Ilr' we s e, Max ?
MAX. LLaplamnd, Nova Zt'mnllI. fl n]i between
the two the g.virniment of A rt:linl.
FATIHE. light; and these .'lcotrit- lien?-
MAx. Betwecn tlju sixtieth a-inl s,.eventieth
degrees of north latituil,.
,I:ULIA. Olh, how cold0 it t ust be
FATIlIEH. Ye indeed-the elevation of the


pole prove~ this; for, as you see, this whole re-
gion lies at the most northern point of the Bal-
tic Sea,-or, Gustavus ?-
GuST-a~Vs. At the Gulf of Bothnia.
FArTHnE In the same latitude. Add to this
cold, too, the frozen sea and the vast marshy sur-
face which forms the soil of these countries.
There are few forests there, as the cold hinders
the growth of trees; we find there no mountains,
and the eye beholds nothing there but a dead,
alhnost uncultivated extent of country.
JILIA. How glad I am that I do not live
there t
MOT ER. You have good reason to be so; but
had you been horn and brought up in that re-
gion, you might, probably, have been as much
contented there as you now are here.
FATHER. Here, on the map, you further ee,
Maria ?-
MARIA. The White Sea.
FATHER. Very true. A gulf of the Frozen
Ocean, which runs into the government of Arch-
angel, and receives the Dwina, one of the chief
rivers of RuL.ia, on the ank of which-lies what
city, Max?
MAx. Archangel; a city which is well known
by its extended trade into the Northern Ocean.
FATHER. Very well. Here we will stop, and
will now go on with our story.


JULIA. A good v(olyage O( i
GrUSAVE's. Andi a favoraiJ; le winid, for I sup"
)pos we are to go hlv w;Lter.
FATHn.I Not long since therc lived in Arch-
angel a Tnerclunt in very gtool (.ir'lnllftancet ly
the namrn of 0s;lrow, IHe had only one ,on,
Ivan, an excellei't loyv who was (li-stinguiished
by hili deHire for knowledge, iand ly his untiring
dilitgece in learnituiv all thin si that llighlt be use-
ful to him. To what profi:ssioii or )ut.iness he
should devote himself, he had not yet decided;
but he was satisfied to learn everything that ap-
peared to him he might possibly have occasion
to make use of hereafter. He knew that useful
knowledge would never do any harm, but that it
WLwS always pro(it'bhle. Olarow's brother, also a
mertclhalt, died, and Ivain's fitticr tuok the son
left by his deceased brother into his own family.
The two brothers had been united and afifiction-
ate friends during their whole Ili;-; Olis love wa
now transferred from the lather to the son, ;and
Ivan's father regarded Gregory, for this )was the
fatherless and mottherless orphan's name, as his
own son; and both bhoys, who were of about an
equal age, were al inost inseparable from each
other. Gregory had great good-humor; he was
induitrious, persi'.v'.rin-. a:Lmi decided,-in short,
he was a boy desirvirng of love, and so was Ivan;
but the. liLtLFr too rften allowed Limst!f to be led


away by one fault. This consitecl in a certain
levity which frequently preventt'd him from act-
ing rationally and Idecidledly. Though at this
moment he was cVCr so firmly couvijnccd of the
inmportarnce of a thing, on the slightest o a.Rion 6
thlt wWhol IhMctne ridiculous to him. Though he
milhit now promise something, with the most
serious intention of fuirllling it, at the next in-
stant all wais trgotten, He regarded too little
the colsc:!,ic'er.s of his aticmons.
MoYrl,. Thi. is a great fault, ani the source
of' various miiftbrtunr's. Shun this course, and
be well collvinced of its sad cons&iueices. This
I would say to you, particularly, Gustavus.
You oift.en act in your most. impetuous violence,
without tli ht ng of the consel'uences.
O L' TA LS. Do not lbe' tr.Ail leil, good mother.
I lJave alr-adly become much lchaiiiged and shall
always more and more laly aside this fault.
MOThEr. God grant that it may be so.
FATHERK. Gregory Lhd al u the Lult of under-
taking ILmanly things, the consequtvence of which
he had not always thought of, but often repented
of having done them. Both of the young men
had 1,Pen obliged t.lo devote themselves to trade,
according to the wishes of the aged Osarow; but
the sitting, still behitidl account books, writing
rrimnty letters, anlld eFpi iaIlly the waiting for the
customers in the shop, during their years of


learning,-all these things were particularly dis-
agreeable to Gregory's taste. The old Osarow
was a prudent man of good sense. lie thought
how different the view and inclinations re,
which God has implanted in the hearts of men.
He had often experienced how children thus
became unhappy, while their parent forced
them into a kind of life to which they felt the
prompting of no inclination. As a prudent
father, anxious for the true welfare of his child,
he examined into their inclinations, and dis-
covered in both of them an all-overpowering
inclination to see the world, and make distant
voyage. He represented to them the happiness
of a quiet, peaceful domestic life, and he por-
trayed to them, in lively colors, the danger and
inconveniences they must meet with-but all in
MARIA. That does not please me in Ivan and
Gc~sTAVUs. Now I do not know whether they
exactly deserve blame. What do you think,
father ?
FATHER. That you are not wholly wrong,
Gustavus. Both wer quick, energetic, and
resolute youths; they deserved to be praised for
following out this preference of theirs, if they
felt that, in this way, they coull be more useful
to the world than in any other.


MOTHEa. Therefore God has wisely ordained
that the inclinations of men should be as various
as the features of their countenances. One
chooses this condition, and another that; only a
mran should select a busineai adapted to his aitua-
tion and powers, otherwise he occupies a false
position, and will be unhappy.
FATHER. Very true. A man is never more
unhappy than when he is not in his proper
place. You will often sce that in the world.
God grant that you may not have to cxpcrience
it.-But to return to Ivra and Gregory. With
the greatest rnpect and confidence, Ivan dis-
closed to his father his predoiitnant, inclination,
and lr-gefd of him h is consent, and promised to
do all honor to him. Osa~row w how much
his heart was in it, and yieIdid to his wishes.
MARIA. Wthat profession did they chottw?
FATnHER. Bulh of thet felt the stronuget incli-
natioll in general for voyv.lgig; both of them
wishiei to be useful to their cuuiLtry as s(amen,
ant] to ail4iuir, fir thlIJcI.lvs a 4T'cbrate,1 name
in thel hiitLtory of vi,-;oy With this in view,
thev l iI ha already. y . --l]irnivd much WhiIl would Ie iilispensable
to them in suchl a pro~i-s.1;..
J U:LA. Would so very much knowledge be
ncc~sary ?
MAx. Certainly; they must be at home in


mathematics, a.stronotimy in natural history and
geography ; and that they should be also ac-
quainted with bfreign languages, is sef-evident.
GUSTAVUS. Not to mention that they must
understand swiuMning, fencing, shooting, and all
kinds of boKdily exercise, by all means,-if they
do not wish to be borne down by the first dan-
FATHER. The aged sarow had ny friends,
and so it was easy for him to get his two beloved
children admitted at St. Petersburg, the capital
of the Russian Empire, as naval cadets into the
Imperial Academy of Cadets.
JLIA. Cadets ? naval ?adets?
FATUER. This is the name given to those
young persons who are educated particularly for
future officers in a public institution. The in-
stitution itself is called an Academy for Cadets,
and it is a vyy excellent insitutitn, especially
for those who are in want of means to learn
what their future destination requires of them
They are here taught everything at the expense
of the government; tleiy are clothed, fed, and
like children are ubliged to perform all the
Bervi es of a soldier in iniiiiture. The naval
cadet is very naturally ednii:atced only for the
naval service, and for this object he is taught
everything which he ought to know as an officer
of a ship.


Ivan and Gregory were both admitted into
this academy; they distinguished themselves by
their order and industry; and even many of the
little light-minded tricks which Gregory, and,
led on by him, Ivan too, were guilty of were
overlooked, in consideration of their greater
excellencies of character.
The three years of learning whatever was
necessary, had patued away, and both of the
youths returned back to their native place.
Every one received them with joy, and more
especially so did Oasrow. Both of the young
men were now waiting for their appointment in
the navy.
JuLLa Navy ?
FATHER. By this express is understood
whatever belongs to the management of the
ships, and the sea-service of a country or king-
dom, such as the number, manning, arming, and
the whole appointment of the ship. Therefore,
they have also regulations or laws for the navy.
Most commonly this expression is used re-
specting those ships which particularly belong
to the warlike service. To receive an appoint-
ment in the navy, is the same as to be placed in
the actual service on board of a ship of war.
Such a post were our young men expecting,
in order to practise whatever they had learned
in their profession.


Archangel, as is well known, is a city of con-
siderable trade, and is the only harbor in thd
Northern Sea. 1T ere ato hi, found ships and
seamen of all the commercial nations but espe-
cially there are many English vessels, who, as
you know from other accounts of voyagesl have
the most extenive commerce. I need not,
thereforre, tell you that Ivan and Gregory sought
the inttrcourtCIi of t'xrrienced seameii in order
to enlarge their knowledge.
They lbeIunne acquainted at a certain time
with a captain of an English ship which lay in
the harbor, and who was only waiting for a fair
wind to go on his voyage. This man was very
intelligent and agreeable in conversation. Be-
sides, he manifested a social and affable conduct,
by which he attached everybxxly to him who
became acquainted with him; and in short, he
won upon the two young men in such a degree,
that they expressed the wish to undertake a dis-
tant voyage in hi company, and on an English
"This wish you an easily accomplish," re-
plied the Englishman. "You need only deter-
mine upon it, and I will warrant you that a voy-
age in my ship will be of the greatest advantage
to you. Probably I may make a voyage of din
cover to the North Pole. Our Parliament
have offered a large reward to him who dis-


covers a north-west passage around Aia or
America to the East Iodis. Very likely I shall
venture on such an experiment" These words
excited to the utmost the des re of voyaging in
the young men. They saw before them a fine
field to satipy their long-restrained wishes, and
.oubhttess the idea that they might make a voy-
age in an Engligh ship, added new strength to
their inclination.
JA1AR. Hllw so?
FATIlt. The English marine service has
attained to a very high degree of perfection, and
hardly any other seafaring nation has accom-
plishd so much as the British. The Euglish
ships arc beautiful, their arrangement and arma-
mnent well chosen, and their seamen capable.
Whoever, therefore, wisbed to learn correctly as
to service at ~a might do so on an English
Tho Englishman observed the disquietude of
the two young men; he spoke continually of the
voyage, and every word increased Ivan and
Gregory's inclination to shre in tho sae.
G LSTAVUS, But ought they to do so without
permission of the government?
MARIA. Or if their father was not willing ?
FATHIKR I will tell you about that. They
thought of both of these things But as he
were not in actual series, so the permission of


government might be obtained without diffi-
culty. The Admiralty, that is, the branch of
the govErnmnLit which decides about naval
affairs, and which for the most part consists of
admirals, could have no objection, hut, on the
contrary, would very gladly see two such prom-
ising yiung men desirom of being further
trained in so excellent a school for the benefit
of their country. They therefore consented to
their going. The old Osarow made far mre
objections. He was a strong adherent to his
country-more so than was consistent with a
friendly feeling towards foreign nations He
desired that the youths should serve in no other
navy than the kussian, and decidedly forbade
them t o go reward another step.
MARIA. Now both will remain at home. I
am sure I should not like Ivan and Gregory, if
they should go a-voyaging with the Englishman,
against their fIther's wishes.
FATHER. Alas here Grerory's levity ren-
dered useless every good inflnenice, and, by all
sorts of exaggerations, conquered Ivan's felings.
Sad at the serCiois refusal of their father, in the
evening they came into the company of the cap-
tain; he naturally began to talk again of' his
voyage, and as naturally learned from Ivan and
Gregory that their father would not allow them
to go.


The Englishman-and it is disagreeable to
find iunch imppropriety in a man whom we must
otherwise esteem--the Englishman advised them
to undertake the voyage without their father's
knowledge. "At the utmost, you can see your-
selves back here again in three months," said
he; "a nd I am convinced that your father will
feel indebted to me for having set you upon so
useful a voyage. Howoftecn it is the case in my
country, that the snus of the richest fathers
secretly undertake such a voyage, and are again
received by their parents with open arms. I
have no had purposes in the voyage. We shall
not fall in with pirates and corsairs. Or object
is a fine and noble one. It is authorized, and
the means to attain it are corresponding to it."
Ivan wavered, and shrunk back; but then
Gregory interpoysd, with his usual fickleness,
and urged his friend. Ivan was weak enough
to yield. Both of them pledged themselves to
the Englishman to make arrangement in the
night, and at break of day to be on board of his
ship. "We are only waiting for a fidr ind,"
said the Englishman; "it may, and must soon
happen. I must avail myself of it, and you
must. so arrange your matters, that I can at any
moment weigh anchor, and get under ail."
JULIA. What is the meaning of that?


MAx. To wind up the anchor, fixed in the
bottom of the sea, nn-d holding the ship, because
otherwise the ship could not stir from its place.
They use the expnmssion, "to weigh anchor," as
well as "to get under sail," wheni they wish to
mark the eeginniing of a voyage.
'ATHE. Some days pa&sed in the constant
waiting for a favorable wind. Probably Ivan
would have acquainted his father with the
whole matter, and the voyage would then have
been properly relinquished; but Gregory knew
how to arouse Ivan's pride and feeling of honor,
and this, joined to his own fikle.nes, were te
reasons that Ivan actually found himself under
sail at the break of tlhe appointed day. ie sent
hack a letter to his father, in which he expressed
hiM whole heart. He excused the step he had
taken, from his overwhelming inclination, beg-
ged forgiveness for his disobedience, and be-
sought his father's prayers and blessing. And
so we must pardon him, and accomnpaty him on
hs voyage.
MOTHIIER But, father, it is already late; how
if we shall her make a pause ?
FATHER, And enter on thu voyage to-mor-
row evening, do you mean? What do you
think of it?
GUSTAVUS. Because,- father, before a long


travel we must be refreshed by some houm'
FATHER. Very well. Then to-morrow, about
this time -
MAx. We shall be very considerably narer
to the North Pole.

$trniul (Etfing.

THE children had sat for a long time at their
work; the daughters spua, while Max and Gus-
tavus lookwMd over the map, in order to make
themselves well acquainted with the region into
which their father was going to conduct them.
While thus engaged, they disputed (of course
it was like well-educated children, with whom a
little dispute does not degenerate into a quarrel),
whether Ivan and Gregory deserved to be
blamed because they had secretly left their
father and benefactor. Maria and Julia were de-
cided in condemning them. Max was somewhat
doubtful; the desire of learning something new
and being useful to the world, he thought, might
excuse such a transgression. Gu stavu_ proceeded
on the supposition, that Ivan an dGregory, in so
great an object, must indeed have ventured on it
-a view which brought on him many censures
from his sisters. Guatavus himself felt that he
had gone too far, but, as im often the case, he was


not willing to take back his opinion. He fbe-
longed to those who would not willingly do
wrong, and so defend their opinion as long a
they can find any ground on which they can sus-
tain themselves.
The arrival of their parents interrupted them,
and finished this little dispute, and they heartily
desired that none of their children might ever be
tempted to do anything against their parents'
FATHEru Now, are you agreed ? We have a
distant voyage before us. Union is the frst
GUSTAV's. We are all ready, and ca enter
on the voyage whenever you like.
FATHER. Where did we leave off last even-
iag, Maria?
MAA. In Archangel.
FATnE. At least in the harbor of Archangel,
on the ship Juno, At that time there were many
voyages undertaken to the North Pole, in order
to find a passage t tothe East Indies across Asia
or America. In such a discovery no one had
more to gain than the merchant ships of Arch-
angel, because they then would have the shortest
course to China and the East Indies. Which of
you, without looking on' the map, can describe
to me the course which they have to take from
Archangel to the East Indies?


MAx. I can. We must sail around Norway,
Denmark, Holland, between France and England,
then around a part of Spain, along Portugal and
the whole western coast of Africa.
FATHER. Very well. Gustavus, how then?
GUSTAVUs. Around Africa to the Cape of
Good Hope, then they take the direction on the
right, pass through the Indian Ocean to Ceylon,
or still farther to the right to Sumatra and almost
to China.
FATHER. Right Which of you know of
any other way?
MARLA. Another ?
JULIA. I do not think there can be any other I
FATHER. No? What way, then, did your
friend Kotzebue take Bsme years since?
MAmx Ah, now I know it I Take the same
route as before till you reach Spain, and then go
straight to South America, along down the east
coast of this country, through the Straits of
Magellan, leaving Chili and Peru on the right,
and so directly through the Great Ocean to the
East Indies
FATHER. But both of the route make a
wide circuit; for eah of them is about four
thousand German miles. If any one could dis-
cover a way across Asia or America, this would
not be more than half the distance. Therefore,
fo many yea the English government have


proposed a large reward for any one who shall
find this nearer passage, and it was natural for
many to seek to obtain the premium. You can,
theriefore, easily imagine with what eagerness
Ivan and Gregory must have determined on such
a voyage, so that they should secretly leave their
father and benefactor.
Now, then, behold our two friends on the ship,
the anchor of which was already weighed. A
fresh south-east wind sielled the sail, the ship
flew on more and more rapidly oyer the White
Sea, and now they are in the open Northern
Ocean. It was the first sea voyage which they
two had made, and the whole mode of life in the
ship was new and unusual to them. They were
indeed already well taught as to all that they
saw here, fur they had been educated in the
Academy for Cadets; but many things and indeed
alnmot all appeared to them larger and new as
they here sw them in reality. The arrange-
merits on board of the English ship, are dis-
tiuguibshed by the greatest order, and the crew
by the most minute performance of every duty.
This mat have very greatly pleased them. The
ship itself was a beautiful, new, and firmly built
one, in which reigned the most exemplary order
and cleanliness. Every day it was washed and
soured; not the least dust was allowed, and even
the most insignificant portion was carefully at-


tended to. To all this was added the kind con-
duct of the excellent captain, and the constant
respect of the whole crew. The captain knew
how to unite friendliness with seriousness, and
kindness with sevrrity; he possessed that great-
eat of all arts, to employ his crew-of which
there were forty--cc ntnually in the most useful
manner. He had alrearly made several voyages
to America and the East Indies. and this fur-
nished him with matter for much interesting and
instructive conversation. So the two friends sat
and listened with increasing curiosity and the
most earnest wishes that they could themselves
have experienced all that the captain related.
They accompanied him in their thoughts on his
voyages, shared his perils, and were at his side
in many an adventure. with him they passcd
through unknown seaa, landed, on desolate
islands, saw many remarkable countries, and
cities of foreign portions of the globe. Both of
the young men were corinnissioned as volunteers
to led a helping hand to two other officers of the
ship. These also, after the example of the captain,
were excellent men, scientifically educated, who
soon became friends of the two young men.
GLC8TAVUs. I can imagine how happily they
both must have felt in their intercourse with
such men. I should like much to have been in
their place.


MoTrrERi, You can do as well here on the
firm land. If you conduct yourself.properly,
you may find everywhere good men who will be
to you what the captain and the two offers
were for the young men.
FATHER. I hope and expect this from Gus-
tavus. But to go on. Every hour at which they
were at leisure from the service of the ship, Ivan
and Gregory were in the cabin, listened to the
descriptions by the captain, and read with him
the history of voyages, examined the map
practised drawing, and the higher mathematics,
and in this way such scholars in such a school
soon became able seamen.
The captain took. his course with the most
favorable weather, first northerly, so as to sail
around the great barren island of Nova Zembla
He would not have been obliged, usually, to do
this, as he was only accustomed to pass through
the straits which separate Nova Zembla from
Siberia. But the passage through these strait
is dangerous, for we find there many shoals,
sand-banks, rocks, and reefs.
JULTA. Reefs?
FATHBE. They are a suesion or chains of
rocks, which extend along under the water, and
are very dangerous to vessels in sailing. Usually
we find tem near to land, where they stretch


out far into the sea. But often, too, they are to
be met with in the midst of the ocean.
MARIA. Can the sailors know and see where
these reefs are ?
FATHER. If the sea is stormy they cannot.
It is only when the sea is calm that they are able
to do it. The waves indeed dash over such a
reef, and form a species of breaerMs, just as they
do on a coast. But seamen avoid, as much as
possible, such places. They choose to make a
considerable circuit rather than expcne them-
slves to such dangers especially in unlkown
regions. .
Our voyagers were on the north of Nova
Zcmbla, and now they turned to the east. Here
two capes run out, not far distant from each
other, Cape North-west and Cape North-east, or
Taimura, the most northern points of Asia, which
belong to the rmot northern portion of the earth.
Against all expectation their voyage had hitherto
been perfectly favorable, the sun appeared
warmer than they cuuld have anticipated in this
latitude; they nowhere met with ice, and the
day which lasted ablovc two months.-
JULIA. What did you say, father? the day
two months long ?
FATI'rII. Yes; the day at midsummer here
lasts about two months; but for this reason,
about Christmas, the night is as long. Then, for


two months, the sun does not make its appear.

JULIA That. would be & nice thing for many
people for whom the sun always rises too early.
GuTAvus L. Look in the glass yourself Julia;
you are not used to be the first up.
JULIA. We will not dispute about that. Sleep
is something very sweet; but you, Max and
(Custavus can oblige us two, Maria and myself
very much. See here; I know well that the
length of the days and nights is different, ac-
cording to situation of countries-
MAfx. That, for example, under the line, or
the equator, the day, year in and out, twelve
hours, and the night twelve hours; while under
the two poles the longest day lasts half a year.
JULIA. True; but why is it so? and in what
degrees does it happen ?
FATHER. Of this you have no really correct
idea,-that I can well believe. Max and Gus-
tavs, what if you should make this clear to
vour sisters?
MAx. Very willingly, sir; but I must first
think over in what way to make it plain.
FATHER. That must depend wholly on you
two, and it will give me pleasure if you find out
a new way. But let us now return to our ac-
count of the voyage. Here in the highest north-
ern point of Aia, the English captain had two


courses before him, of which he might take his
choice. One way was to proceed further on his
voyage eastward, and sail through between Asia
and America. Gustavus, what countries would
he pass to reach the East Indies?
GUSTAvrus Along the northern coast of Asia
to Cape Satatskoy, from thence to the North
MARIA. 11ia ha That was the way year
before. with our friends Cook and Kotzebue.
GuSTAvus. So it was. On the way the
captain could make a visit to the Jakuts and
Tschutsches. From thence they might go through
Behring's Straits, between Asia and America
JULIA. Nov I know the rest of the way.
Kamschatzka, the Aleutian Isles, Japan, Chins,
all these countries come one after another.
FATHER. Right. The captain thought with
himself whether he should choose this course.
The summer would soon be over, and the winter
drew on at every hour. The whole of the north-
ern coast of A.-ia ws little known, and therefore
threatened many dangers. Possibly the captain
had no particular desire to pa s the winter at
Kamschatzka. The corse to the Est Indies re
moved him too far from his country-from old
England. He concluded, therefore, to turn about
again, and to spend the winter in Archangel,
and in the beginning of the following summer to


ty whether it might not be possible to discover
a new way through Baffin's Bay.
MARIA. Id not that the great bay between
Greenland and the yet wholly unknown parts of
North America?
FATHER. Yes. More than two hundred years
ago was this bay discovered, and many attempts
have since been made to find a passage through
it into the Pacific Ocean.
In this region the captain turned his ship to-
wards the North-west Cape, and for a second
time doubled the cape. The cold had already
set in, and the ice formed on the coat, mist and
snow darkened the air, and the captain had need
of all his care if he wished to reach Archangel
with his ship uninjured. But often a single ir-
cumstanee is a means of frustrating the best and
wiaset plan; a fact which the captain and his
friends proved by experience, and which every
man often has occasion to learn.
GrsTAvtrs. Did it happen to them as it did
to Robinson Crusoe ? Did they suffer shipwreck?
MARIA. I should doubly pity the unfortunate
men if such a fate had befallen them in that re-
FATHER. I forgot to tell you that the captain
had taken with him from Archangel a Rusi
as a pilot, a man who was perfectly trained for
his post He son became Ivan's and Gregory's


friend. He was of much value to the captain
and the whlilh crew on account of his knowl-
edge, Now the olik.crs were sitting in the cabin,
talking of many ithinLgs. when they perceived an
unusual noise and roaring; and plainly heard
the under pilot give orders to take in the sail,
and keep a redmubled lh)kout on every side.
All sprang up, anl hastened to their posts.
lhat' the IaLtt(r?' asked the captain. A
fearful storiti is brewirng at the south-east," was
the answer. "If we were only in the open seal"
The ship received the motion given it by the
waves; mounting higher and higher continually
at every moment, the storm became more violent,
the roaring more frightful, and the billows roe
to an incredible height. Sometimes the ship
hung suspctnded on the top of the waves, and
sometimes she sunk .down to the very depths.
The day hiad wholly disai1preared. No one could
steer the a ip with certainty, as the violent storm
broke upon the near land, took another dircetton,
and drove forward the ship as if it were a light
feather. The captain, otherwise so adventurous
a sftanllIa, was h.r' Ij ior distressed than he would
have Im!en in any lther place.
MARIA. Why so, dear father?
FATi'r L. Beeau.is he was not acquainted with
this sea and the land adjoining. Had such a
storm taken him on a wide open sea, wetl known


to the sailor, then he would have been less af-
fected by it, because would have felt certain
as to the rocks, shoals, and sand-banks; but
where he now found himself, all these were to be
dreaded. All suitable precautions were taken,
but it was now impossible to steer the ship; they
were obliged to leave it fb the violent assaults of
the sea and the tempest. The darkness naturally
increased their terror, the glimmer of the day
hardly lasting for an hour, could not be per-
ceived on account of the thick clouds deeply
overhanging them even down to the water; and
the waves caught away with them the ship,
dashed about in a wholly unknown region. No
one could understand the others, so loud was the
roar of the wind and noise of the billows strik-
ing against the sides of the ship. Two days had
the poor men done all in their power, when the
mainmast, broken by the storm, came down with
a thundering crash aeros the ship, by which its
rapid course became very greatly impeded. "Now
we can do nothing more," said the captain, with
a stern submission to his fate, Now no steer-
ing, no direction, can help us. If God does not
aid us, we must find our grave in the billows
How Ivan and Gregory must have felt at these
words you can readily imagine. Never had they
before made a voyage to any distance; never had



they experienced a storm. Whatever they had
learned of it, they had gathered front descriptions
and narratives, and I need not assure you how
far the best description falls short of the impre-
sion which the reality prolurpes.
Shut up in the ship, pale and exhausted, with-
out being able Ito sltlep, for a moment the unfor-
tunates sat in the cahin rIdespairing of their safe-
ty. They saw nothing but approaching certain
death before their eyes. Every howling, roaring
billow spoke to them this fearful doom, so that
they even finally wished that all might be soon
over, for the anguish of expecting death is more
torturing than death itself. No one spoke, no
one comforted and tranquillized the others. Like
an arrow shot forth, the ship flew on through the
waves, and the tempst grew continually strong-
er, the billows roared more dreadfully, and the
ship w~ dasher onward at rnore fearful rate.
All at once she struck with so hard and shat-
tering a blow that all were thrown confusedly
together. Again once more the ship raised on
.the top of the wave, then dashed down, and, on
E sudden, stood as if it was fast walled in.
JULIA. Now I can imagine how it was, just
as in the case of Robinson Crusoe's ship; to split
in pieces and go asunder must be the fate of the
poor Juno.
MA.U. And all be drowned.


GUSTavu& That could not have been the
case; for who, then, would have told this story?
FATHER. It is now too late; I will go on with
the story some other time. To-morrow evening
you may then expect the continuation.


Ftbirb fr no ig.

I NEED not assure you that all the four child
dren, Max, Gustavus Mari and Julia, awaited
the progress of the story with the most anxious
curiosity, They talked the whole morning about
it, and inquired among themselves how it would
go with poor Ivan and his friends, when Max
recollected what an obligation he had taken on
himself to try and explain to hi sisters what
causes the difference in the length of the days
and nights. He and Gustavus had promised
this. The confidence of their father, as well as
the expectation of their sisters, were important
to both of them; they felt themselves dignified
by so honorable a commission.
Max was of a penetrating mind; what he
knew he knew thoroughly; for it was a princi-
ple with him to learn everything accurately, and
never to stop in his views half-way. With Gas.
tavus this was not the case; he could indeed
comprehend anything much easier than the more


tardy Max, but also on this account he f^got
again much sooner-what remained firmer in his
brother's memory. Both hald u de more than
common advances in geography; to examine
maps and study them, was for them no labor, but
a pleiasre. They sat down to them with full as
much delight as other children have in sitting
down to enjoy pictures. But they knew not only
countries and seas rivers and mountains, but also
the relation of the earth to the other heavenly
bodies and planets; they knew the circumference
of the earth, and its place in respect to the sun.
Their father, to whom this kind of knowledge
was most agreeable, had brought forward his
sons very vIr in this branch of human science.
Hie did not, therntore, ask too much when he re-
quCeted of both of them that they would explain
this subject to their sisters. He could, in this
way, best learn whether his two sons themselves
thoroughly understood what they were to make
plain to others. '
However great was the expectation of the
boys to know the fate of the unhappy voyar
ger ;-ct they felt still greater desire to fulfil
their promise. Max, especially, thought about
it the whole morning, how he should perForm
his commission, and Gusuavus went cordially
hand in hand with him. Both of them thought
only of this one thing. The sies indeed, often


laughed when they noticed their brothers' un-
usual soberness. Julia made many a sporlive
attack on them, aind probably Max and Gustavus
would have erred in their purpose, if they had
not felt themselves too greatly flattcrcl by their
father's confidence in them.
Finally, a:ter a Tng examination anl consulta-
tion-for thiir father left then aon:me purposely,
without giving them the slightest aid--their
plans were ready for communicating the infor-
mation. Maria and Julia were called, and their
father himself came in to correct many things
or to make them still clearer, which were proba-
bly not wholly clear to his sons.
Max and Gustavus had inclined the large
table on onI side by mearin of a supp.rt. under
it, so that the flat surface had the same direction
with the actual course of the earth, or, as Max
expressed himself in seientiic. language, parallel
with it.
In the tnJiddle on tlils tablc level, was fastened
a large gilt ball by a peg, on the projecting point
of which hung down a yard and a half of thread.
On the end of the thread, a lparti-colored ball
was f tcened, and a circle draIvn on the table
with chalk, so large that it marked out the
course of the ball whiilc hung on the thread. r.,
Both of the girls, their pupils, looked at this
apparatus; it was probable, in their view, that,


the gilded bal might represent the sun, and the
parti-colored one the earth. It proved to them
that Max and Gustavus had thought it all over,
and drawn it out correctly.
With a somewhat important mien, Max came
for ward to the table. "You know, Maria and
Julia, he began, "that the sun is fixed-that
the earth revolves around it, and completes its
course in a year. The direction in which it goes
round the sun, I will now show% you, and you will
yourselves wonder how clear and evident will
be made to you the difference of the length of
the days and night& Look at this ball; it repre.
sents the sun, which is fixed in the central point
of this circle. This other ball denote the earth,
and you observe on it in the middle a line.
MAKIAz. Which no doubt represents the Equa-
tor on the line?
GTSTAVUrs Yes. Here you ee two letters,
N and S, by which are de.ignatwd the North and
South Poles. On the ball are, besides, some*
parti-colorcd lines which I have drawn, and
which may represent the portions of the globe.
MAX. Now look sharp. The earth stands
now as you see here, unequally lower than the
sun, which naturally stands as much above.
MARIA. So it does!
MAX. The North half of the earth is turue
to the sun. It is therefore longer shone on by


thp sun in this il rtcotion than the South half,
aIld the region alout the North Pole has the
sun hardly out ,of sight, while the South Pole
searrtely recvivcs ar.tnying of it,
JULIL Very correct and clear.
GUSTAVUS. Now, therefore, it is summer on
the Nrnrth half of the earth; the sun stands at
its lieiglht, mid the dl.av.- art the longest But
now ]i'ok :.kisc. No-w the earth begins its
couirste. It Ina;kes a i.ircuit rom ills c(':Llk line
around the sun, ian tlrnlis like a ball, that is
ru lliil ,r o)[1 at t6:. sa'Inl. time around itself onoC
it twenut-fiuTir hours---a motion from wlihence,
as you see daJ;y and night takes pl:Acve. The
whole tirtlhern half, es'ec..ially the North Pole,
is always yet longer shone on by the sun than
the South Pole.
MAx. The1 earth continues to rise higher,
until it has the saIrrce d.ireeirjti with the sun, that
is, the samn el'v;titin ior lheigLlt, The inrtlhrn
Ihi il in 8 this wa' y, V'vrly day will iU e soiimewht le.sK
ysh'me on by the sun. The (lays ,ecome shorter, the
nights longer, until the earth, abiut the 22d oftSep-
teinLer, comes in the samre directions with tle sun,
and the days and nights are of equal length.
G I.T.AVUs. And then we Ihave the 'beginning
of autulmitn.
MAX. X.N) the' earflt goes 4 tir.hr, r-intinu-
ally rising higher, and naturally it must appear


to us as though the sun came to stand constantly
lower. The North .Pole is hardly any longer
shone on by the sun, and the nearer the regions
f the northern half lie to the Pole, so much lou-
gl.r are the nights, and so much the shorter are
the days, while, on the other half of the earth,
exactly the opposite takes place. This portion
noW. is longer shone on by the sun, and, as you
see, the Sutll Pole has the sunI continually
upon it. If the earth now, about the 22d of
December, has reached the highest point, then
we have the shortest day, or the beginning of
tlUh winter. From this time. the earth goes
deeper again, the sun appears to rise higher, the
davs increase, and the earth, on the 21st or 22d
o' March. comes again into the samer direction
with the sun,-i-day aftZn night are eqiial,-the
earth sinks deeper,-the sun comes up higher,
until we again reach the end of June, and, with
the longest day, we oncc more have the begin-
Uing of summer.
F'ATHERu You have I.:'rforinI.1t your commis-
sion very well. I hope your Sisters have under-
stood you. As soon as I have time, I will draw
a table on the globe there, by which you. will
know accurately how lung, in any region of the
earth, is the longest day an the longest night.
JULIA. It is very clear to ie. I should hardly
have trusted the commission to my brothers.


MAx, Iem! ii is not so very hard. One
nmus only himself se rigritlv into the matter.
FATHER. Very true. But there is one thing
more-how great the distance is at which the
earth revolves around the sun. You can con-
clude from this that, at every beat of the pulse,
we move nearly four miles.
JULIA. That is what I call going ahead I
FAVTIH. Certainly; for the distance which
the earth passes around the sun, or its orbit, a
it is called., ITmountSr to mIore than a hundred and
twenty millions of miles (or about two hun-
dread lad ninety millions of English miles.)
And now to go back to our unfortunates,
whom we left yesterday in a situation of the
greatest possible danger. The dread shock, and
the violent leap, the sudden silence, and the then
ever.increasing howling and roaring of the waves
beating against the sides of the ship, threw all
of them into despair. Even the captain, other-
wise so courageous and composed as a seaman,
in this horrible moment loat his presence of
mind. "God have mercy on us '" cried he, full
of despair; we are cast on the rocks, and in a
few moimnts, we shall be a wreck."
JL'LIA. A wrek?
FATHER. This is what it is called in seamen's
language, when a ship is either wholly swallowed
up, and drive about on the billows-or at least


sb affected by the tempest that it cannot proceed
on its voyage,--when, for example, it has lost
its mast or rudder, as was the ase with our
"The wreck is tbout sinklug I" With horror
they all Lherd this doom of death-in the great-
est distress every one was looking for the moment
when the wreck should go asunder, the sides be
parted, the water press in, and all be swallowed
up by the raging billows.
MA.tuH. Poor tmen I tremblk at the thought
of their being so abandoned.
JULIA WIho could not here save themselves
as Robinson Crusoe did himself, by swimming.
GusTTAvu'L. And if they did fortunately swim
through, where would they land ? What mes
of living would they have foutid, where there
was a desolate island ? Robinuoi Crusoe was far
Ibtter off; he found fruits, and a warm climate,
where he could dry and warm himself. These
poor people had nothing but snow and ice to
look on. But, father--
FATHER. Some anxious, dreadful moments
ImFaed before the unfortunate men could again
recover their sense The captain waLs the first
to whose heart courage anTi.1 cL-Riposure returned.
At the side of the calm pilot or steersman be left
the cabin and went with him into the hold, that
i, the lowest part of the ship, where tLey both


saw, to their great joy, that the ship was entirely
dry inside.
MARIA. How so? What good could this do?
FATHER, It proved thus Irtuc]l, that the body
or hull of the ship had not suff tre(. The sea
water, if it had teen otherwise, wi, u!d have come
through, and the whole space o.r hold would
have been filled with water. At the same time
they noticed that the waves no longer beat so
violently, and from this circumstance very justly
concluded that the storm, if it had n'-t yet per-
fectly calmed, must have very considerably spent
its rage. Inspired by new hope, they both of
them hastened to their trembling associates, to
carry to them a piece of news which, for the mo-
ment, must have been the most joyful, Now
the calm pilot proposed to open one of the port-
holesu which had been kept closed.
MARIA. Port-holes?
FATHER. Gustavus, that belong to your de-
G CSTAv I.-. Port-holes re, in a ship, what
loop-holes are in a wall or entrenchment, open-
ings through which the muzzles of the cannon
are run out. They are provided with doo-rs that
they may be shut in a storm, so that the swelling
waves may not come into the ship.
FATHER. Now, the pilot oIened such a port-
hole, and looked up to the starry heaven above


him. The feeble light which the tars gave was
suFbl.iernt to distinguish, anrund the ship, an in-
distinct calm surface, which was ost afar off in
the blun..less distance. The pilot wondered at
the lilcnce, of the waters, which still roared ad
raged continually and awfully on the other side
of the sip. lie called out to his companions.
They all came together; then omne one mounted
on the quarter-deck.
JULA. Is nott that the highest part of the
ship ?
FATHER Yes. We might compare it to the
rxwf of a house, only that it is flat. The seamen
often call it the upper promenade of the ship.
Large shEps have niany deks, which, as in a
building, separate the different stories. You
may thus often read the expression "three-
decker," which commonly means a large ship of
They now mounted on the quarter-deck. The
cold frscah air was the more bcnieicial to all as
the uufurtunate men had spent many days in the
continued space of the cabin, Biut how great was
their terror when they srw that the wide extent
which the pilot took fi:r a calm and quiet sea was
a monstrous tield of ice.
JULIA. Was this so very frightful? I should
have thought it would be bttcer than if the ship
had bee on a rock.


GrsTAvs.A. One would be as dangerous s asthe
other. Would it not, father?
FATHER, And probably the dashing on the
ice would be more dangerous than on a rock. A
cliff can easier be clinled ; other. is in it .sonic
cleft, or gully, or cavern, which might allfrd
protection or warmth; or pecrlhaps a spring, a
beast, or some plant which might serve us food
for them when cnfccbleed. But of all this nothing
is found on an empty field of ice. At the mo-
ment when the unfortunates mounted the upper
deck it was clearer than in mid-day ; the sun of
the short day had risen, a small portion of the'
disk moved above the horizon, and diffuiied so
much light that the poor men could perceive the
horrors of their situation. The wreck lay in an
iceberg bay, which was protected on three sides
against the prsur of the waves On the
fourth, the sea was indeed open, but the current
drove in monstrous heaps of ice, which shut fst
the bay, so that it might be clearly een how the
return was more and more destroyed by every
new rmLS, of ice. Destruction seemed unavoid.
able, for only one great ice cake was necessary
to be driven against the wreck to crush and
shatter it to pieces.
MARIA. If the Bp e now, at least, had re-
mained open
FATHER. This would have been of little use.


The ship was a wreck, without sail; they could
no longer steer and guide it; to undertake a long
voyage with it would be itipo&rsible, as the unfior
tunates knew not in what region they were. If
the storm was indeed really over, yet, suppose
they cuild reach navigable water, it would be so
ligh up, anLd in so open a ses that the wreck
could not long ear their shattering motion. In
a word, dear children, destruction seemed only
too certaiIn.
JULIA. What, then, did the poor people do?
FATRTR. You can easily imagine their situa-
tion. In the tirst miomeut, when they gained the
fearful conviction of the horrible certainty they
were driven almost to desperation. On all sides
they saw danger and death; nowhere did the
slightest ray of hope appear of their being able
to save themselves. In such a condition man,
sees only misfortune; fear blinds him against
every poK&iblle means of deliveraiin:. When the
unfortunate man in some degree comlposes him-
self will he first ble more regardful of every
thing; he think of them more accurately, and
oftentilme it happens to hir to discover a new
and hitherto unknown mode of relief-he begins
to hope, the new hope teacbcs him to know his
new powers, increases his activity to use them,
despair vaii.lshls and the unfortunate ma is no
longer wholly miserable.


GLUSTAVS, And it was so, was it not, with
our unfortunatels?
FATHER. As you nligtht expect from brate
persons, whom not their conduct but their pro-
fession had brought into misrfortune.
After some hours the little glimmer of light
which in this zone at this time of the year they
call day, disappeared; the captain took an obser-
vation, and then ibund that they were in the
seventy-first degree of north latitude. Do you
understand this expression ? I have heretofore
explained it to you. Do you recollect on what
occasion ?
MAx. 0 yes, sir. When we were taking our
voyage round the world with Cook and Kotzebue.
FATHEra It was now September. Only a few
weeks remained and entire night would set in,
a circumstance which much increased the anxiety
of our unfortunates. They heard this news with
horror. The captain, a tirm, composed man, who
had in numerous voyages contended with many
dangers, and had conquered, first recovered his
presence of mirld and courage. lie caused the
whole ship's company to gather around him.
"Friend.," he began, "that I would gladly help
you all, even at the sacrifice of mine own life,
you may well believe; but you see that in this
case I can do nothing. We arc in the hands of
Almighty God, and must give up ourselves to


his will. Without his aid nothing will help us;
if he wills to sav us he can do it, though this
iceberg may tower around us yet higher, and the
sea become more iilmpetui.ous. He can save us
when and how he will. Only we must do our
duty. Faint heartedLnes9 and murte despair will
do us no good; they only injure us. We have
bekt almost three days without an ordinary meal,
and without a moment of slelp,. We ought not
to neglect our ItAdies; we know not yet how
greatly we may need our powers to conte'id with
dangers of which we are not aware. If we keep
our bodies Found and powerful, our minds and
spirits too willle the more active and lively." He
ccoIniIatded them, thrcfore, to light up the ship's
lantern; the cook must prepare a good nourish-
ing meal; all must eat and drink heartily, and
then they must lie dowI in their hammocks to
sleep. The captain did so, but it wa in vain for
him to close his eye.; he could not get the de-
sired repose. Ti thought of his uifrtunate
companions, who were under his ci.mnnand, and
whose fate waIs llacc. in his hands; he felt that
he must care for them and a care of this sort,
joined to the most torturing anxiety fur his own
life, would allow no one to obtain slumber.
MARIA. The captain mu.f t certainly have been
a good man. Many others in his place would


have been occupied with himself only, without
caring fur others.
FATErmK Ctertainly; he was a brave man,
who indeed hrrad dclservted a letter lot. But
especially the fate of Ivan and Gregory lay near
his heart. lie retollected that he had advised
them to the voyage, :nrd had irnducd them also
to undertake it contrary their father's will.
He read in their countenances the bitterest re-
pentance for their conduct towards their father;
and now reproached himself most severely for it.
GUsTAvus. But Ivan and Gregory had written
to their father ?
MoTIER. You think, then, that this was
enough? How now if their poor father had not
consentIe when he sorrowfully and in vain
stretched forth his hands to his dear Ivan?
How, if the pain of seeing himself forsaken by
his aon, and having lost all the hopes founded on
him, had brought the old man upon a sick.bed
and to the grave? Would all this be repaired by
a letter ?
FATHEH. Surely not t I hope Gustavns will
feel this, and not do so that he will be obliged
to reproach himself. Especially the captain
pitied the gjLod Ivan, It did not escape him how
cast down and sorr,)wful the young mani was.
He knliew, too, that want of courage was not the
cause of his being so dowrncatt, for Ivan was a


young man of very resolute feelings; but he felt
firmly convinced that it was Ivan's grief of hav-
ing made his father drink so deeply of sorrow
which lay heavy on his heart,
GUSTAvus. But, dear father, Ivan's object
was, however, praisewurltiy. He had under-
taken the voyage for his own improvement.
FATHER This was indeed far better than if a
blameworthy levity had determined him to do
so, but it does not excuse him. Ivan deeply felt
this. With the thought of his poor father, his
conscience was aroused, which is never the case
with any one except when ihe does wrong; and
so Ivan was obliged to suffer the reproaches of
his own heart without, al the consolation
which others had--that they had brought them-
selves into this misfortune in the pursuit of their
calling, and attending to their duty,
MARiIA. That reminds me of Robinson Crusoe.
JULIA. It is true ; and it was just so, too, he
thought of himself when he was on the desolate
M MHER. Ivan would have done better, if he
had reflected on all this Lbefrehand, as he might
have done, and had conducted. himself according
to this conviction. Tis own heart would have
been spared many sorrows, if he had thought
deeply of the oonsequence of his conduct. Never
act as he did, my dear children. Who of you


would wishl yourself to e in Ivan's or Robinson
Crus-)e's place, and to feel the rIprLoaches which
they both nmade t. tlJo .te islvcs?
MIAuA. Certainly no one of us, mother dear.
FATHER Ivan lay on his lied contiuually
awake, while ot.hers. w''rie sleq.t1pt. Finally, he
ceased to be coins'i.us of his tlihoughtLs,-but it
was more the ]pri'Lt cxliaustionl and wearisome-
ness more a 1;iirttil1g away lIhan slumber. How
long he lay in thia state of unconsciounesi, he
could noted 'ti'trinc when the captain woke him.
"Let the others sleep quietly," he said. "They
are fortu.iiate; we will not disturb them. It
tranquillizes me. to ktiuw that they are happier
than I am." "What shall I then do?" asked
Ivan, raising hilcslf up. "You mnu-t accom-
pany me." And whiherT' have not been
able to shut my eyes from dis(nuiet. I must
have certainty." "As to what?" "As to our
fate 1 Ihave ol:iA',rv thai in a short time now
it will be day. I saw it from the quarter-deck.
At the same tim'e, I noticed that the ice is piled
up conItiriually ighi-rfh about the wreck.* We
muwst se whether there i. no land to be dis-
Still half-buried in his swooniing dumber,
Ivan took his gun. With dillic.ulty, they both
cli mbed up a high cake of ice frozen close to the
wreck. On their left hand the su although it


was mid-day, appearing deep and bloody red
through the mist, stood at the horizon. The air
blow piercingly. A vast boundlcm field of ice,
scattered over with sparkling flakes of snow, lay
lik a mirror befre the eyes of both of them.
With the most anxious observation, the captain,
by the help of a spy-glass which he carried along
with him, looked over the dead level, and who
can describe his joy, when he clearly saw land
afar off on the wester horizon, and at the same
time could distinguish some rocks and moun-
tains I
MAX God be praised. It certainly was an
JULLA. I am right glad that the poor people
could see the land I
MAZIA. And with what joy could they carry
to the others this news I
MOTHER. Well observed Maia I The joy
of others is pleasant to the good man, and it
makes him happy when he can impart some-
thing comforting to others.
FATHER. Both of them now went down to
the deeply lying wreck. Many of the crew were
awake, and sat thinking over their fate in deep
meditation. "In the north there is land [" cried
the captain, joyfully. "We have seen it; we
can distinguish the particular mountains." This
information enlivened them all with new hopes


Though the dangers were ever so great, the un-
certainty of their fate ever so torturing, this one
piece of tidings banished all their sorrows. The
prospect of saving their lives filled them all with
thankful joy, and confidence in the Divine aid
again strongly entered into their soul.
MAX But was the deliverance then already
so sure, that they could rejoice in it with cer-
tainty ?
FATHER. In the first moment of joy of the
unfortunate man enlivened by hope, he does not
think of this. It is enough for him for the first
only to be able to hope, and a little ray of hope
calms his heart in the greatest danger. Our
unfortunates were already satisfied, when they
heard the word land. Whether it was a waste
uncultivated island, or a ridge of barren, bare
rocks-whether they would find the means of
living-wheLher they would have ever the
opportunity to go lback to their native country
-or what sorrowful future might await them in
the land discovered -of these things not one of
them thought in the first moment of joy. Enough
for them that they knew land to be near themL
MAx. Now, did they go on it ?
FATPras. That was not at once possible. All
must not together leave the wreck, in order not
to give up the means of living, and other sup-
plies which were there. Besides, they were not


yet acquainted with the country, and it was
therefore concluded that first Rmie of the ship's
company should go there, and bring back tidings
to those who were left behind of what they found
there. The captain called for volunteers for this
enterprise, and at once Ivan and Gregory offered
themselves to undertake the commission. To
them was joined the RK2nsian pilot, or stccrsman;
and so they three went forth with their fire-arms,
and a sufficient store of means of food, and of
the supply of other wants.
MAx. How far off was the land ?
FATHER, This could not be accurately deter-
mined. Between the wreck and the land dis
covered, there was a field of ice smooth as glass,
on which no distance can be measured, because
no object could be distinguished, by means of its
form and color, for a standard. The sky was
somewhat clouded, and the air foggy; our three
travellers were therefore obliged to direct them-
selves by the region of the sky in which the
mountains were observed. Among the packages
which they had taken with them were also some
torches of pitch, in order to be able to light up
and explore caverns and chasms which they
might at any time discover. Besides, it would
soon be night; and then it was possible that they
might meet with wild beast, which, as is well
kown, mostly fly before fire. They had, too,


another object in view. Ivan and hi. com-
panions, if they found any cavern that could be
inhabited, or any dwelling, were to place a burnf-
ing torch on the point of the rock, in order to
give to those whom they had left behind on the
wreck a signaL #
GUrTAVUS, That was like a signal-fire in
mountainous countries,
FATHER. Very true. This signal-fire would
show that a dwelling or residence had bn found,
and likewise serve ws a guide to those who were
to come on after them.
MAx. You speak of a dwelling. Could they
expect to find anything of that kind here?
FATIHER At leat, this was not impossible.
They knew not in what region they were, and
could not determine whether the land discovered
was a part of Greenland, or perhaps of Norway,
where some dwellings are always found. But
supposing also that the land wa.i the island of
Spitzbergen-as they afterwards found was really
the ca-e-this precaution was not without use.
MARIA. Are there any dwelling there?
FATHR. All seamen are familiar with the
story, according to which several sailors had
lipsed a whole year on this barren island. The
poor men had left the ship, which was inclosed
by the ice, gone on land, and, on their return to
the coast, saw that the ice and ship had dis-


appeared. Previously some unfortunate persons
had wintered there, who had built a hut in a valley.
MAX. Had this, then, really happened, or
was it only a mere saying-a story ?
FATHER It was true, at least, as to the main
thing. The history of the unfortunate sailors
affords many particulars which confirm this
story. You recollect, surely, of a HIollander,
Ileemsler, and of a Dane, Monke, who both of
them had experienced the same fate. Yet sup-
posing that this could not be reckoned on, the
captain remembered to have heard, that tho
whale fishers, who venture into this region, had
built huts in many places, in which the coopers
made barrels for the preservation of their oiL
It was, therefore, more than probable that three
such well-prepared enterprising persons, would
find one of these huts, to which afterwards the
shining torch might show the others the way.
From the wreck, they might easily take all
necessary supplies to their new abode. Then
could they brave the winter, and continually be
in expectation that the future summer would
discover to them a ship, and this would again
carry them back to their own land.
MA. O, this caution was rightly thought of
JULIA. Thank Heaven, that the poor people
are safe, and well preserved under a roof, and
with the necessary supplies!


FATHER But ar they so?
JcUTA. O, now I imagine they must have
left the wreck, did they not?
FATILER. I wou l gladly sketch for you a
picture of the happy union again of those who
were so separated from each other, and their
return to their native land, but---
MOTHER, Dear father, it is now late, You
have related to us longer this evening than
usual. To-morrow, my children, you may hear
how it fared with the poor people.
JULLA. I wish, father, that you had not Rpo-
ken that last sentence. Now I shall dream all
night of these poor people.
GUrTAvrs. That would be better off than to
freeze and starve with them in Spitzbergen,

jfurt| Ernultig.

WITH a certain anxious doubt, the children
looked forward the next day to the continuation
of the history of the unfortunates. These poor
people had become of importance to them, on
account of the sorrowful lot that had befallen
them. They had expected that their fat would
be changed, that, united a true friends, they
would brave all the inconveniences of the long
winter in this rough country, and thus would
overcome all the irumstnce and dangers
which were to befall them. They had hoped
that a ship corning to their deliverance would
carry b~:k the forsaken ones to their native
country, and that Ivan, especially, would be
received by his father with joy.
And all these beautiful hopes, had that single
word "bIr" of their father destroyed I
"How will it be with those unfortunate men?"
asked Julia I have actual l dreamed of therm,
how they died on the desolate island, were found,


GrsT. Vr Strange I I, too, dreamed some-
thing like it. They inu-st have hadl to fiLht with
btars and wolves,
MAx. It is no worse, however, than if they
were under the torrid ZAOiH, and been killed by
lions and tigers, or were swallowed up by gigan-
tic srpienlts.
MARIA. Very true. But what fine fruits
they wouhl have found, too, under the torrid
zone! They cui.ld have laid out gardens and
fields, have built themselves houM',s, as the colo-
nists did on Robinson Crusoe's island. And
what did they find on Spitzberge ?-n-othing
but ice and snow,
Gt:STAVUS. And they might also be poorly
enough provided with the rmeais of living.
MAX. We will not trouble( ourselves on this
account. I hope it w ill be better than we feared.
One can endure much, and seamen especially can
do so.
So the children talked it over among them-
selves, untl, after supper, their father seated
hinmsclf in his clhair, collected around him the
young listeners, and, in the midst of their most
loIging exjplctation, inquired, "How far had we
gone yesterday evening ?"
J LIA. Up to that horrible "Lut," by which
you destroyed our rejoicing, dear father.
MoTran. And such a "but" will you often


enough experience in your life. Hopes often
deceive, and not all the good which is antici-
pated takes pl
FATHR. You are quite right, good mother.
But to go on with our story. With the best
wishes of those left behind, the pilot, Ivan, and
Gregory quitted the wreck. The cold was
severe, the air harsh and piercing. Only by
quick walking, by means of warm clothing, and
from the fact that they had much to bear, could
they resist the penetrating and sensible chill,
GU-STAVUS. Why, then, did they burden
themselves with a large pack ?
FATHER. Because they needed many things,
and knew not what they might find there. They
had each a gun, a sword, a cartouch-box filled
with powder and ball, a bag with pro~isionsa
bread, bacon, a Khttle of brandy, tobacco, and
besides an axe, and every one of them a blanket.
It was still dark when they left the wreck. On
their left hand, they saw on the horizon a faint
glimmer, which announced the near approach of
the short day, lasting scarcely a few hours. In
the twilight of this glimmer, the friends went
forth in the direction they had once taken, and
at lkst, in four hours' travel, reached the island,
so greatly had the mirror-like surface of the ice,
and the single-colored snow, deceived them in
respect to the distance.


JULIA. They must have felt thankful, when
they felt the dry ground under their feet.
MAX. Just as did Robinson Crusoe, when he
rose on land nut of his sea bath.
FATHEB Whether they were as well satias
tied as he was, is a question. Robinison Cru-
sue saw hin.melf sLved from I cert'.ai death; he
found, under a mild climate, an island, from the
fruitfulness of which he might expect a suffi-
ciency of articles of f:oodI. Our three friends saw
before them a desolate land, a mass of rocks
thrown togetlhr. There wua no tree no shrub
was green, no bird sung in the tops of the trees.
No brook murmured there, over fields and mea-
dows; they saw nothing but those vast barren
heaps of rocks, which lay before them like gray
ruins, the natural color of which was yet more
heightened by the snow. The whole creation
appeared as if petrified. A stillness, as of the
grave, reigned in the .desolation, in which not
even the dissonant cry and ill-oumened screech of
a single raven broke in on the horrible silence.
There was no place for repose the; no cleft
or caveru wcas to be found, not a splinter of wood,
with which they could kindle a lire to warm
themsel ves,
Cautious and timidly, our unfortunate wan-
derers trod over the rough icy ground, covered
with rock. Caution was the more needful here,


as neither of them were ignorant that the high
northern regions of the earth are inhabited by
certain kinds of wild beasts, especially bears and
wolves. Now the poor men went forward be-
neath a rocky ledge, in which some hollows
were to be seen, which appeared to become lost
in the clefts within. The first and nearest one
was chosen for their path. The surface was
slippery, and appeared to be ice; a fact which
led the pilot to the conclusion that they were
going on the top of a frozen brook. The short
day, hardly lasting for an hour, had broken,
but of the sun our travellers saw nothing in
the valley; only the highest points of the rocks
were brightened by it. In the valley itself,
there lay a twilight that made them shudder.
The travellers saw nothing but a barren, wild
wall of rcxk, which took some other form at
every step, according as the winding of the al-
ley gave them ditlerent views.
Ivan and Gregory advised a return: they
believed they would thus find a better path.
The pilot thought differently. "Useless search
aids us nothing," said he. "It robs us of our
time and strength. According to my view, that
hut. must lie near a brook. If we do not find it,
we shall probably discover somi cavern, or a
sheltering cleft and, what is as needful, a way
up on the rocky wall itself." This latter dis-


over was necessary, in order to place upon it
the pitch torhl agreed on as a signal.
JULIA. And did they find what they sought?
FAT.ER. Not indeed the ut. After half
an hour's walk, the rough points of the rocky
wall no longer apjmpared; the cliff were more
compact, and firmedr on both Bide. a smooth
wall, which gradually rose up friim the valley,
that continually became wider. Suddenly, Ivan
espied above on the rtwk a cavern or opening in
the clitd, similar to the entrance of a cellar. It
was as if they had found a treasure, or the house
of a hospitable friend, so welcome was this dis-
MARIA- But what particular use would this
discovery be to them ?
FATHER. Do you imagine that it was a small
GlruTAVL:S. No, Maria. It was already irn
portant that they had come to a shelter, w~ that
they were not obliged to lie under the open sky.
FATHE. Very true, my son. In this region,
encamping out on the bare ground, under the
open sky, would not answer. Now they had
found what they sought, a sheltering abode.
The cavern lay at the height of a house above
them. With some ditficalty, they climbed up on
the rock. One helptLd the other, and thus they
reached the entrance of the cavern, which indeed


did not enter very deep into the rock, but was
quite clean, and large and roomy enough for
them to take up their quarters in. The floor
consisted of whitish gray sand, and the walls
were smooth and even. "Thank God," said the
pilot, "who has thus far helped us, and He will
yet help us more. We have, at least, a shelter
from the wind and weather." Now must our
comrades come, and furnish up our quarters,"
added Ivan. "We will give them the signal,"
answered the pilot. It so happened, that the
cavern discovered lay under an abrupt, but
pretty high ledge of rocks. It was not yet quite
dark, and dangerous as the climbing up was to
them, yet they all three ventured on it The
ledge was surmounted while the setting sun yet
shone a little. But what a prospect
JULIA. A beautiful one?
FATHa. In a certain sense, yes. The friends
stood on one of the highest points. Around
them lay the rocks, strewed about like the ruins
of a palace that had fallen, only slightly illumi-
nated by th fast disappearing sun. Over these
masss, they now saw the great field of ice through
which they had wandered, and a fire, shining at
a distance, showed them the region in which
their companions still rernained. By means of a
spy-glass which they had taken with them, they
clearly saw the pile of wood burning on the ice,


and also the wreck, prrojectinl above the icy
mirror. illumi[nated by the flame. Now they
fastened the torch between some Ptones, and the
next moment set it on lire. Moreover, Gregory
sent up three fire-rrckets, which mounted into
the pure. thin air. higher than usual, and diffused
a beautiful light.
MARIA. Fire-rockets?
FATHER. Yes, as they send them up in fire-
works. They go quite high, move some ininute
abining and bright in the air, and then burst.
They can be seen in a dark night for many miles
of; and they are used in war for signals, and to
give notice of an attack, or any such thing.-
But to proceed. "Well," said the pilot, "that
idea was a good one. We have now nothing to
do but to wait whether our brethren will
observe the signal." And truly, there rose in
a moment from that direction three rocket&
"Grand I" said Ivan. Our friends have under-
stood the sign. Now let us go back to our
quarters" Cairefully they descended; the con-
tinually burning torch shone on their toilsome
return, and they ecme back safely to their
As long as they were in the valley, they had
experienced a piercing, moi~t, penetrating chill;
on the cliff, they found the reverse. A remrk-
ably milder air blew around them, like that


which is perceived in a thaw after cold weather.
A distant muttering nois was heard, and the
pilot concluded that there was going to be a
change of the weather.
MAx. But the winter was near?
FATHER. Yes, indeti-d In these. northern
regions, it is ofter the case that the summer
end-s partly with unusual storms, and partly
these storms set in at the beginning of the wrin
ter, when the ice and snow have everywhem
made their appearance. Thte the sky is over-
cait with bla.k .louds, and the rocks are upheaved
by the violence of the tempest; but on the first
clearing up of the air, suddenly comes in the
most dreadful cold.
Sorrowfully sat the three friends there, eating
their supper, in which they were obliged to go
without a refreshing drink and a warming fire.
A pile of wood now would have been comforta-
ble to them. With it, they might have warmed
the cave, as well as lighted it, and could also
have secured themselves against the attack of
wild beasts. Little wa said. Every one in
silence wished only that the morning would
come; for they imagined that then their friends
would leave the wreck, and bring with them
everything that was now wanting for them.
But yet a gaT:eCe into the futlre showt.d them
nothing but what was frightSil; and even the


conviction, that in a frw hours they should be
joined to their friends, did little in allbrding
them composure.
O1, the unfortunates t They could not know
that on this lst-this only hope--
JULIA. Now, father-it would not fail them ?
FATHER. Alas! it did fail them-an expe-
rience which you will often enough undergo in
your life. The only hope often deludes. Well
is it for him who never, never counts on blind
MARTA. But yet those on the wreck had seen
and answcrcd the signal I
FATHEiR And still-but only listen further.
Exhausted by the difficult journey over the ice
and the rocks, worn out by ;old, und enfeebled
by their anxiety for the future, our three friends
slept, covered up in their blankets, and with
their loaded guns on their arms, until at lat the
pilot was rousdl by a dreadful howling and
noise. He got up; the noise became more
frightful continually, and the howling more hor-
ril. He at oe a r awaked the others, who
sprung up affrighted, and in imagination already
beheld a troop of wild bears beibre then. The
darkness was awful; not a star shone. They
stepped to the entrance of the cave--and what a
meeting 1 TheI tempest broke howling on the
rocks, and roared horribly through the valley.


Snow and rain drove in at the en"anc of the
cavern in the face of these distressed men. All
nature was in the most dreadful uproar, and it
often seemed to our unfortunates as if they heard
the heavy roll of thunder.
Disturbed also as was the pilot, yet he con-
strained himself to appear calm. He feared the
wort, and yet would not willingly destroy the
hope of his less experienced friends, with which
they were continually flattering themselves.
Overwhellingd and sorrowful news is always
soon enough.
How well it is for us," he said that we can
sit here in a dry place [" He spoke with a heat-
ing heart. The fate of his comrades presented
itself to him; the thoigliht that they might now
be wandering alout on the ice in this frightful
weather, in the impenetrable dlarlknecs, and the
conviction that the ti-:.h could no longer burn.
disquieted his heart; sercely could he hide
from his friends -what he feared. To examine
whether the torth was yet burning was impose.
sible; the storm would have dashed any one to
the chasm below who ventured to leave the
cavern. It was perfectly impossible, in the dark-
ness to climb the ledIe of rocks, as the ascent,
even by the glimmer of daylight, was dangerous
to life, "God Almighty only can grant that our
friends should not he lost [' he cried out almost


against his will; may his anykre] direct therm l
A wish in which they all participattnd, although
the others flt nt 11 tht saM:ile anxiciv that he did.
Thev went back into tie catve,-rn, andi notwith.
stantlng their disturbed thllouhts, soon fell asleep
again. Alfer a long while, the poor men awoke.
In the whole region there reigned a death-like
stillness; the storm wa entirely laid-the air
was pure and clear, but exceedingly cold, and
our unfortunates almost felt ready to imagine
that they had only been dreaming. It was yet
dark, inldeed, but they observed in the southern
pIarL of the sky that always increasing arch of
light which indicated the rising of the sun. With
longing they waited for the day, and scarcely
had it broken than they claiitcred up the rocky
ledge, this time with still greater risk of life, as
it was ruedered smooth by the ice and snow.
But what a view I what horror I That vast field
of ice over which they had come yesterday had
disappeared! High waves weru rolling close in
to tlh1 Hhore, and broke foaming on the rocks;
only ingle cakes of ice were driven on the coast
Of the wreck there was not the slightest trace to
be discovered.
MARIA. I wasjust thinking about thaLt What,
then, had become of it?
JULIA. Where, then, were the poor men they
had left?


FATHER, Who could answer these questions?
Nothing could be more certainthan the destruc-
tion of the unfortunatcs, whether they had 1wen
wandering on the ice or had remained on the
sinking wreck.
MAX. But, father, was there not some piece
of the wreck or a corpse driven on the shore?
FATHR. Not the slighlest trace of one.
MARIA. But mighLt not some or the unfortu-
nate crew hl:tve wandered omrnewhere on a field
of ice? MIight. they nut have landed on some
other place on the co~t ?
G uSTAv Lc This last supposition was not very
likely, for they would keep looking towards the
burning torch.
FATHER. Alas they had little benefit from
this. It lay overthrown, extinguished, and
hardly burnt down a few inch, on the rock.
Overwhelmed and almost annihilated, stood
the three friends oa the spot. They reflected
not on their own sad lot, they felt nothing but
for the calamity of their coinrades, and this the
more, the less they knew whether the unfortunate
men had been overwhelmed, or whether they
were still driven about, a sport for the ocean bil-
lows. No one of the three friends spoke a word.
Every one of them was tortured by the most
sorrowful thoughts. and every one took care not
to communicate his painful ideas to the others.


With their eyes filled with tears, they looked out
towards tlh' plal.r in which, a few hours before,
they .aw the wreek. Their heart~ were greatly
oppr"essed and ridly to burst, and their bosoms
mint deeply weighed down.
Might not, then, our friends have been saved?
Itwasnot iinpos~ilte. God may lead them tofind
us, probably wholly unextectdly," tinally said
the pilot, more in orderto raise. Ivan and Gregory's
sunken spirits than from his own conviction.
"And if we should not see them again," re-
plied Ivan, "if only they are saved t I should
he glad of it with all my soul. Our friends may
then take measures, in their own country, for our
rescue," But he was well convinced, while ex-
pressing this ish, s well as was the pilot, that
it could not be so.
MARIu. But, father, that docs not quite please
me. Ivan and the pilot should not utterly de-
spair of the fulfilment of their desire.
MOTHER. Thi was owing to the feeling of
their hearts, produced by misfortune. The fates
of men have a great influence on their mode of
thinking. Whoever sees hlimiielf often favored
by pr(oviilence lwcomes thereby inure easily
assured, and not rarely txo presumptuous. He
flatters himself that he will always be so favored.
But if he is visited by misfortune, he then be-
comes spiritless, he sees nothing but his own


wretchedness-hope forsakes him, and he is al-
ways timid.
FATHER. At least, he acts thus at the first
rnomnilts, in which misfortune affects him the
more seriously. When he first comes to reflec-
tion then new hope is excited; the unhappy
man feels the benefits of the same, and then
clings to it the stronger the more innocent he is,
and the more reasons of calmness he can create
for himself out of religion.
Indeed the pilot and Ivan had little reason for
hope. If their friends had not landed on the
island-and how little probability there ws of
this!-the miserable broken wreck could not
hold together long in the open sea, at least not
long enough for them to reach land. How could
the unfortunate men n.nide it without mast and
sail ? They must look on quietly as the wreck
caught by the telnpest and driven on by the
foan&ing billows, tikally was dashed to pieces on
the heaps of ice, or was swallowed up by the rag.
ing waves.
This hour of hopelessness was certainly hor-
rible for the three unfortunates. The poor
creatures over whose fate they lamented were
their friends. Could they have landed on the
island, and had they brought supplies for their
wants from the wreck, then it would have been
tolerable; were the country ever so desolate or


barren, it woiu'l lhe gren't comfort to them that
there we'.,r r irt"iny of them together. Union
and fri]nd.lhip would have cffened the horrors
of their soiliki e'.; their united iirtcn th wouliI
have lilitenedil every burdln, anil Oven the severe
toil woilli livc ..Cn tl,.ix sweetened. lBut now
they were three iuiif.r-nIliMte, and hardly provid-
edt with thle int'e ssiry supply of their wants for
a single day.l, ow would it lie with them in the
apjpro:iI.-I.inl winter, ]astiLn. kf r almost half a
year? lHow should tlhe ]ipoor men withlLtami the
cold and hunger? Where should they find a
protecting shelter, and from whence could they
obtain for themselves warm clothing? "
Happy and hopeful as these sutferers had been
when, a fi.w hours before, they left the cavern,
thus wretched, aiLhist brOuIL'lht to despair, like
men who seemed to be aln:ndoned by God, they
now returned back to this their retret. There
lay the few reinaiiltts or' the lprUvi]ions they had
taken with them, their scanty meal; not one of
them touched it---not one oft them felt hunger or
thirst; they had only one feeling, which must
have wrought horribly upon them, the thoughA
of their boundless misfortune.
JULIA. What a frightful situation They
could not be more wretc:hel!
FATHER. Do you think so?
JULIA. I cannot really conceive how there


could be anything in their situation that could
be called good fortune f
FATHER. I do not exactly blame your view;
at the first moment the unfortunate men them-
selvKt would not have thought differently. But
scarcely had the first storm been laid in their
breasts than cahn reflection also again renewed
its away, and then they soon found too that even
in the moat doubtful situation there slill remained
to them many good things. What do you think
there was, Max ?
MAX. I should think, father, it was a great
piece of good fortune that there were three of
them. If there had been only one of them, this
solitary man would certainly have felt himself
very unhappy.
'ATHEa. Very true I But suppose the three
had not been friends ?
MARIA. Yet here they would have become
FATHEIL But supposing they had not, could
they then have reasonably hoped that they could
have overcome all their olmtacles ?
MARIA. No! One would have wronged the
others, and thus everything would have been
FATHER. So the three were friends who lived
in unity and concord, and this was a great and
inestimable benefit They could now therefore

ti WINTER IN SPIT nF rtitGr.

count on every one helping the others and
Standing by them, rJd tli us halfof their burdens
fell off and the other became tolerable and light.
Gustavus, what advantage beside had they?
GLUSTAVUs. They were healthy, stout men
who could endure, able seamen, who knew how
to cut their way through in ce of nece. sity.
FATHR, Very well I An essential benefit.
Now, Marin, <1o 3yo know any other advantage ?
MARIA. Tliey were active, laboriotsmen, who
had the best ofdispositions.
FATHEF. This i] also true. And now I will
teUl you of yet another advantage. Had they
brought themselves into this situation by rash-
Sand folly?
GurTAVUS. .,; they were in the discharge
of their duty and at their posts.
FATHiR. Had they anything to reproach
themselves? I will except Ivan and Gregory,
who must always have felt painfully that they
had Recretly left their father.
GUsTAVUs. No, they had a quiet conscience.
FATHER. Right, and so you see then, that
they were not so wholly wretched. Friendship,
good-will, health, strength, and a good conscience
were left to them, and So loIngI a mIan possessed
these advantages so long he is not wretched or
forsaken. Be-ide. this they were pious, religious
me, who did not put God and his commandment


out of their sight Therefore faith w ever in.
creasing in their heart, hat God would not leave
them, and that his wisdom would find means
and ways for their sustenance. Besides, I may
tell you beforehand thus much, that their wretch-
edness was to rise yet higher, and almost to be-
come intolerable. I resume again, therefore,
the thread of their history. To the question
which every one of them inade respecting the
fate of his companions, there was joined also
another and as important a one-which indeed
was easier put than atnwered-I mean the in-
quiry, what they must now begin upon I
The pilot, a worthy old sailor, who had made
many voyages, and lived through many adven-
tures, had encountered and triumphed over many
dangers, was, as it were, an angel of deliverance
for his friends. He was atma of a ound under-
standing, of a correct view, of a pio, firm
character, a mania whom a peril might for a
moment render daring, but who did not lose hia
head in the moat desperate condition, but aroused
hjs courage and soon found means of aid, and
then did not allow himself to be diverted again
from his path one entered upon.
GusTAvus. That is my man i Hle places
me I He would make an able general, like
Ziethen or old Blucher I
FAlTH The comparison is a good one; for


it was by such a pious, firm feeling, by this un-
shaken courage in the greatest dangers, those two
heroes showed their character. For ome hours
the three friends had lain there silent and in-
active. It was not yet dark. the moon's crescent,
which was scarcely to be observed in the stormy
night, and the glimmering star cast a feeble
twilight into the cavern, when the brave pilot at
once raised himself up. Friends said he,
"we cannot and must not remain as we now
ar& We have sat here more than two hours
with our heads on our landa That this does
as no good, you see; we must behave differently.
So up and forward Let us eat something. I
am hungry, and we ought not to injure our
stomachs if wewish to hold up ourheads. We will
eat, and then we mut go out to explore. The
night is not so very dark, we are armed, and
what is better yet, our hearts keep their right
places Possibly we may find our comrades,
and probably not; or it may happen to us to
discover that hut or some other cavern; and
even if we do not accomplish all this, we shall
have done our duty."
These words of the brave man and his exam-
ple operated on the two others; they felt them-
selve lightened; their courage returned again;
they were ashamed of their sluggishness and
their depaiing distrust of God's government

Wnu-risn 1Aq SPITzIKEGEN.

and their own powers The small remnants of
the food they had brought with them were eaten,
and when nothing more was left, the old pilot
led the way- "Now in God's name forward I
have satisfied my appetite, and I feel new strength
in myself,"
JULIA. And they really went out? In the
FATHER. Which you must reollect was not
yet so very dark. The cold air is purer; the
stars shine more brightly: even the snow diffu-
see a certain light, and besides this the moon
stood in her first Quarter. All this gave our
wanderers light enough to see the path, and
avoid the dangers in which a total darkness
would have precipitated them. They descended
from the height, and went again into the valley,
and now turned themselves to the opposite side.
But the way still led along between walls of rock,
in which certain forms and shapes stood forth
like statues. In the weak light these often ap-
peared terrific and fearful; the sight of them
produced even in these courageous men many dis-
turbed thoughts, to which was joined the over-
whelming idea that they had consumed the last
remnants of their food. This circumstance filled
the otherwise so tirm and composed pilot with
distressing anxiety. In vain lie related hi
former voyages; recollections could as little ena


ble him to avoid disquietude as the solicitude of
his companions. le sought in every way to
keep up his friends' courage; but the wilder the
country grew, so much the more he felt in him-
self how his former strong courage was shaken.
The rocks co tinuatly rougher, the overhanging
cliffs ever more frightful, and every moment
threatened to fall, while the entire region around
increase in horror. Our friends however still
kept on the way they had chosen, and soon they
perceived a clearer, milder air, as the high walls
of rock kept oft' the keen draught of the cold
wind. They saw that the points of the cliffs
became clearer and more illuminated, and justly
concluded that the short day had broken, and
the sun had risen. All at once they saw on the
side, a little running brook, which pure as silver,
gushed forth from a cliff, and lost itself behind
a distant rock, "Thank Gr(ci" cried the pilot,
"one principal want is satisfied Heaven will
help us yet further '"-All were now full of new
ocorage from this discovery. The water was
beautiful, and was of so much the greater benefit
for them, as the provisions taken from the wreck
consisted of biscuit and salted meat
GOTTAVTVs Yes, then a drink relishes.
FATHElt. A small piece of good fortune can
at once very much cheer the unfortunate. So it
was her. The three friends sat each on a stone


which lay on the margin of the fountain, and
drank to refresh themselves. The pilot who
carefully observed everything, now began: "I
know not whether I err, but it seems to me as
if we were here in the neighborhood of men."
-With these words he pointed to some atones
regularly laid as if for a table and seats.-" That
is the work of men's hands [" he added. The
basin of the fountain too has been prepared with
art, and here are stairs mde in the soft sand-
atone. Either persons have formerly inhabited
here, or we shall have the good fortune to-day,
to become acquainted with our new neighbors "
MAX, But did not the pilot deceive himself?
Possibly he only imagined that he saw something?
FATHEP. The man was too well experienced
to be under such a deception. It is indeed true
that nature, especially in rocks and cliffs often
produces forms and shapRe of which a man at
the first sight, might believe that they were
fashioned by the hand of man: as for example,
we find towers, pyramids, wedges, and even fig-
ures of beasts and men. But this was not the
case here; they soon became convinced, that in
truth, the hand of man had been there employed.
They now, yet more eagerly, searched into
everything with anxious observation; the whole
region was thoroughly examined, they went
further into a dark hollow, and all at once aw


themselves inclosed in a vast chasm of rock. It
was now fully day. The friends could not enough
look at the wild stones lying around them, and
the strange forms of the clifit. "Men have in-
habited here, or they still do so," said Ivan.
"See here are foot-prints; here where no tree is
to be found, lie shavings. We must search
further !"
With these words he went round a cliff and
a kind of stairs made of flat stones rudely laid
on each other, led on behind the cliff on the wall
of rock. He called out to the two others; they
came, and all mounted some tolerably convenient
tep, and soon reached an ascending foot-path
which wound around spirally through some
stones lying about, and which they now fol-
There, all at once, the three friends found them-
selves on the ridge of the mountain ledge ;--op.
positc stood the low sun in its mont beautiful
splendor, and deep beneath them lay a fine val-
ley which was bounded on the opposite side by
mountains and rocks In the midst of the valley
there ran up a narrow bay, or basin.
JULIA. Do they not call it a bay when a part
of the ocean runs up deep into the land ?
FATHnE. Yes: they name it a gulf or a bay.
The soil of the valley from the hill to the bay
was of a beautiful meadow green, through which

ran little brooks. The view was beautiful and
enlivening: the vale lay exactly opposite the
sun which shone into it. The air was without
mist, and pure, and the mingling of color charm-
ing, which the green of the meadow ground,
the glsy surface of the bay, the dark cliffs,
the projecting distant points of snow and ice, of
the mountains and the clear blue heavens pro-
MARIA. Who would have looked for this in
Spitzbergen ?
FATUKR. And vet this was the ase. That
vale was sheltered by the roks from the cold
north and east winds, and as it lay open towards
the south the sun could warm it. In the sua-
mer therefore the heat in this valley was almost
To proceed, however, with our story. But
what caLi the greatest j.oy to ou.r friends, was
the sight of a vast collection of dry trecs, which
lay on the shore of the bay.
MA Trees?
FATER. Large whoul trees with branches
and root&
MAX. Then there ummt have been forests and
groves in a pretty giLi condition I
FATHER. Fortstw and groves? Ou the whole
island there did not grow a single tree, or shrub,
fom which you could cut the mallet sick.



MARIA. IBut whLrnce so much dry wood?
FATHER Th1 lrvill deucee of Godl had taken
care, that tlhics r,:.gilmn without wood, should
yet not IK whollyv kdstitute of thin necessary of
life. The gTret streait'; in Norlt America :ay
waste by their overflow large tracta of woodland ;
their swelling waters tear up the strongest trees,
and bear them off into the se. The storrns and
wind thn thn tie reslt to float these tree into
that uninhabitetl region, where they are driven
on the shore or left lying in the gulf] and bays.
-"And now we ought not to stop half way,"
said the pilot, interrupting the joyful exprPsions
of his friends. "If the history of the cr.ioperfs
hut is not a mere fable, it must be found here
in this vale. We have yet almost two hours left
us of day, and this we will use in the right
Way [" They immediately wenti down into the
vale, toward-s which the way was more conveni-
ent than that which they had taken to climb the
height. They betook themselves to the shore
and frLund it grown over with spoon-wort and
other plants of the eres kind; a discovery
which wias of the greatest valliv to them
MARIA. Thus one perplhxity wM relieved
after another.
MOTHER. An observation which you will
often find confirmed, in the life of man.
GuzAvrs. Yes, they had woUd and watec


but with regard to provisions and lodging, they
indeed do not appear tAo be very well off.
JULIA. And who know-s whether a remedy
will not be found for this too?
FATHKm We will hope for it. Ivan, who
had observed some large fish in the bay, now
luckily thought of something. We have," said
hel "not much more day. On this account I
advise that two of us each tor tilh hut, or some
other lodging, while the third takes care and
secure the fish and collects a heap of dry wood.
When it becomes later we shall probably be
hungry." This proposal met with approbatiou,
andt they concluded they would carry it into
execution. Ivan offered himselr f t take charge
of the cooking, and the two others immediately
went along the wall of rock to each out a
lodging. The former, on the other hand, turned
towards the water. Scarcely had he advanced
some hundred steps than he noticed something
thick on the shore, which drew his whole obser-
vation on it.
JI:LiA. And'this was?-
FATHER. In a little pool left by the water
when it was higher, there was wallowing about
a large fish like a salmon, and wa making all
possible efforts to get out of his prison inclosure
and to reach again the bay close by. Now as
Ivan approached him he was compictly frighten-


ed and distressed, beat around him with his tail,
sprang up high and moved the foaming water so
greatly that Ivan found it impossible to master
his prey. "Only wait. a moment!" said he, "you
shall ason be tame." With these words he
drew his axe out of his girdle cut a stout piere of
wXHI into the shape of a spade, and now dug
into the light sand very soon, a narrow run by
which he conducted off the water of the mpol
into the bay, The drain was perfectly accom-
plished; the water ran off continually, and when
Ivan, who in the meantime had cut up some
wood, came back, it was already wholly drained
off, and the fish lay worn out and flapping on
the dry sand. A few smart strokes with the
head of the axe despatched him, and Ivan was
busy in dividing up the fish whn the pilot and
Gregory returned. That long-sought hut had
not indeed been found; but instead of it they
had discovered a fine roomy cave, which was far
better suited bfr lodging than that in which they
had beeau yesterday, and which besides, as it
was now beginning to btw darker, they might not
have found again. In this way every one had
something to tell of: Ivan showed his friends
the fine fish and the heap of fire wood he had
out up small, while they described to him the
cave they had discovered, which happily lay
near, behind a projection of the rock.


They now went to work. They carried the
fish and a large quantity of the firewood to the
cave, and not till the sun had for a long time.
gone down, did they' take time ti examine more
closely their new dwelling. A fire kindled in
the middle of it lighted it up Uperketly, and to
the great afstn.shUmei't of all of thoe, clearly
showed that the har]niywork of man had aided
nature. On their side wLere many iostns cut out
for seats and tablr',s; in the walls were to be
seen place hollowed out, and they clearly per-
ceived, that the upper portion of it was blackened
by smoke. All proving that this cavern must
have flrmnerly served for a dwelling.
MAx. And did. not they tinld frthnr traces ?
FATHER. At least not at once. lut bix-bre
it ws fully night Ivan and Gregory had laid
together, before the entrance of the cvern, a
pile of heavy sticks of woodl whiln the pilot
roasted and baked at a little fire on a had spit
of wood], several pieces of fish. This supper
seasoned with gunpowder tTasLted tic:kl. Now
Ivan and Gregory kindled up the pile of wood
before the cavern-
MA.RA. But why did they do that? They
would have done better to have spared the wood.
FATRER The os could be easily replaced;
wood lay in immense quantities not far from
their cavern. They kindled up the supply they


had brought together, as a precaution. They
had observed in the light sand on the shore,
footprints or tracks of bears, and they must
therefore, have feared that some of them would
be pressing into the cavern during the night.
And hence their kindling up a blazing fire,
which was the best means to keep off the dreaded
guests. Now our friends lay down to sleep
covered in their blankets, having their loaded
guns near them. The kindly warmth which the
fre diffused in the cavern, the supper eaten,
and the firm conviction gained that they were
not forsaken, caused them soon to fall into a soft
slumber. Then all at once they were aroused-
MOTsHER The cry of the night watch, dear
father I It has struck eleven. To-morrow, chil-
dren, your father will tell you what then roused
them up.

iff) Enr1in g.

IT is unpleasant even to grown-up persons,
when a story of any interesting event is broken
off in a moment in which the curiosity has reach-
ed the highest point Just so was it most natu-
rally with Max, Gustavus, Maria, and Julia.
Their expectation had been raised to the highest
pitch; they had not thought of sleep, and felt
not the least tired; the evening hours had
passed away to them like short minute, and
they would gladly have spent the whole night
when the voice of the watchman proclaimed the
near approach of midnight.
In the leisure hours of the next morning, they
thought of nothing but the conclusion of this
story. They spoke of it together, and exhaust-
ed themselves in suppositions, what it could
have been so extraordinary before the cavelabg
rouse up the wanderers. Especially did Gua~a-
vus and Julia busy themselves in trying to an-
swer this question; sometimes they supposed
-that a part of the cavern had tumbled in; some


time they believed that uniexp.N.edly, strangers,
possibly friends left behind on the wreck, had
appeared; sometimes they fi-arc an earthquake
or some other remarkable wulndEr oi' nature, un-
til at the eind. they sw that with all their imagi-
nations, they were not a hair's b-radthl nearrer to
the truth. Max and -Maria ]hal letter cmlloyed
their time ; they had a map of the island before
them, and were earnestly engaged in becoming
more cluos-ly acquainted with the scene of the
Finally the hour of evening struck, in which
their father was used to relate the story; and
when lie had seated himself in his -wnted place,
in the circle of his children waiting full of ex-
pectation, he began to uLke up again the thread
of the history, broken off the day before. "We
left," he said, "our tfrieais-"
MAX. In tlie nOwly rwrnd cavern-
JULIA. Sleeping by the fire-
MARIA. Whei all aL or ne something arou-
sed them.
FATHER. What that Uwas I will now tell you.
More calm and yielding to their N e, than they
had been the day before, tlhe goCd imen lay slum-
bering there, when the :.ilot lyiig t:l'r-ce to the
entrance suddenly sprung up From a ilreain, and
called to Ijboth of his friends by a liud cry of
horror, that they were attacked from without..


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