And all this, like a sublime jewel casket, rests on velvet of an unheard-of variety, delicate green, pale pink, orange red, crimson, bright red, purple, golden yellow, violet, sky-blue, a marvellous velvet of deep soft and delicately shaded tints, which the calm and irradiated water seems to spread out for the greater delight of the eye and the soul.
In the presence of all this grand and mighty nature, what becomes of man’s most ingenious artifices invented to charm by the excess of accumulated marvels?
How paltry are the most superb decorations of his theatres compared with what one sees here—here where the water alone and the sun undertake the _mise en scène_! What are all the marvels hatched by his brain, by his sovereign industry, in the presence of miracles of colouring and brilliancy engendered by a ray of light penetrating a fragment of ice?
_Tuesday, July 7th._—We had very bad weather on Saturday; on Sunday the atmosphere calmed down a little, and yesterday (Monday) we had a splendid day. We took advantage of this to make an interesting excursion in the steam launch to Magdaleina Bay. The peninsula contains an immense necropolis, dating back several centuries; it is here that the whalers of Smeerenburg came to bury their dead.
We killed a very large seal, which nearly caused the boat to capsize when we got him on board. Strindberg killed a black fox at the foot of a glacier.
We returned at midnight in brilliant sunshine; in fact, at present we constantly see the sun when the sky is clear. He is describing a circle, of which the _Virgo_ appears to be the centre, and the sunshine is sometimes very hot. This morning the temperature was 68° Fahr. in the sun, and 41° Fahr. in the shade.
The work of erecting the shed is being pushed on as quickly as possible, but it is a gigantic task. To-day they have reached the second storey; there are to be two more storeys above that, and these are the most difficult ones to erect.
In the midst of this feverish work the days pass anxiously by, for I have had no news from Europe. I am already much perturbed, when at last, on the night of July 12th, after a very dull day, the watch all at once signals the arrival of a small sloop, which is sure to bring our mail. In a few moments everybody is on deck, and the captain of the small boat, the _Express_, hands us an enormous bundle of letters, which Andrée distributes among us. I received fourteen, and it would be difficult for me to express the joy I felt at this moment.