THE ARCTIC MIDNIGHT.—SONNTAG STARTS FOR WHALE SOUND.—EFFECTS OF DARKNESS ON THE SPIRITS.—ROUTINE OF DUTIES.—CHRISTMAS EVE.—CHRISTMAS DAY.—THE CHRISTMAS DINNER.
December 22d.
The sun has reached to-day its greatest southern declination, and we have passed the Arctic Midnight. The winter solstice is to us the meridian day, as twelve o'clock is the meridian hour to those who dwell in lands where the sun comes three hundred and sixty-five times instead of once in the "revolving year."
To me these last four weeks have been eventful ones, and I hail this day with joy, and am glad to feel that we are now on the downward hill-side of the polar darkness. The death of my dogs fills me with sadness, and this sadness is doubled when I think that the disaster has sent Sonntag into the dangers of the night to remedy in season the evil.
Sonntag set out yesterday to reach the Esquimaux. We had talked the matter over from day to day, and saw clearly that it was the only thing to do. Hans told us that the Esquimaux would congregate about Cape York towards the spring, and it was evident that if we waited for daylight they would be beyond our reach. There seemed from Hans's story to be at least a reasonable probability that some of them might be at Sorfalik, or at other stations on the north side of
