For several days about the middle of November, there were magnetic disturbances of a pronounced character coincident with the storms and auroras they were experiencing. Storms were always indicated by rapid changes of barometer, but sometimes the barometer fell and no storm followed. Auroras had recently been attended with varied colors, which was unusual, as they had formerly been uniformly white. A surveyor working there would find, at times, his compass-needle almost unmanageable. Seals were seen in the most unexpected places, one of them having been killed with a hatchet in a tide-hole.
On the 21st, Lockwood was startled, when setting out on his usual walk, to see what looked like smoke coming from the roof of the house; but what he mistook for smoke was only the condensation of vapor escaping from the house. The appearance of the smoke coming from the chimney, and of the steam from the roof, projected as they were on the sides of the snow-covered mountains, was very pretty. The ice-wall around the house was a great protection, not only keeping the hot air in, but protecting the house from the furious blasts which would otherwise enter it, if, indeed, they did not destroy it.
Lieutenant Greely resumed his lectures, which had before proved so interesting. He gave one, which they all admired, on the history of his native town, Newburyport. Israel had also assumed the rôle of lecturer on astronomy, with which he was familiar.
When Lockwood became desperate with ennui, he got out his old letters and again read them, as they carried him back to his distant home and parents and sisters. He earnestly prayed that a kind Providence would restore him to them. This was the end of all his hopes.
On the 30th of November Lockwood wrote as follows: “This is the day Lieutenant Greely appointed for thanksgiving, and thankfully should we keep it; for we have not only escaped sickness and any serious discomforts, but we have had undoubted success in our efforts both scientific and geographical. We have had a royal feast of soup, beef, corn, Lima beans, pineapple-jelly, nuts, and figs.”
Contrary to his resolve, a few days later he commenced reading novels. His feeling was that they withdraw one from one’s self, which is something gained; but they put one up in the clouds from which it is often painful to descend. They cause the reader to live for a time in an ideal world, and bring him back to the stern reality with a sense of disappointment.
On the 8th of December, Lockwood was greatly impressed by the absence of light, and gave his views as follows: “It is now very dark, even at noon, except when we have the moon and a clear sky. Even on the floe, where the pure white snow reflects every bit of light, it is now so obscure that it is difficult to see the path at one’s feet; and even the outlines of the mountains, high above the horizon, are very dim. A faint gleam of twilight over the south horizon, at noon only, shows the direction in which the sun and ‘God’s country’ lie. So dark is it that I have several times stumbled over the dogs lying outside at the door; and when in a pathway, one has rather to feel the way than see it, requiring the use of a lantern in going from the house.
“No wonder, then, that the moon is so highly appreciated in this benighted region. How delightful it is, after a fortnight’s absence, to have her with us once again! How a poet would rave over the moon could he once know a polar winter! We have her now in all her glory, lighting up this vast desert waste, which, covered with its mantle of snow and ice, now becomes a thing of beauty.
“The effect of continued absence of sunlight is very marked in the complexion of all the men, as well as in their loss of vigor. They are as blanched as potato-sprouts in a dark cellar. Blessed orb of light and life! One can hardly imagine the one without the other. The moral as well as the physical influence of sunlight is very soon seen after the sun’s reappearance, the middle of February.”
They still kept up birthdays, and the 24th was that of Saler, when they had a feast selected by himself. The musk-ox beef was particularly good, being young and tender, and free from the musk flavor so common with old oxen. They were now used to this, however, and it did not trouble them.