Good-by to England! Good-by to inhabited and civilized regions ofthe earth!

Two years have passed since the voyagers sailed from their nativeshores. The enterprise has failed--the Arctic expedition is lostand ice-locked in the Polar wastes. The good ships _Wanderer_ and_Sea-mew_, entombed in ice, will never ride the buoyant watersmore. Stripped of their lighter timbers, both vessels have beenused for the construction of huts, erected on the nearest land.

The largest of the two buildings which now shelter the lost menis occupied by the surviving officers and crew of the _Sea-mew_.On one side of the principal room are the sleeping berths and thefire-place. The other side discloses a broad doorway (closed by acanvas screen), which serves as a means of communication with aninner apartment, devoted to the superior officers. A hammock isslung to the rough raftered roof of the main room, as an extrabed. A man, completely hidden by his bedclothes, is sleeping inthe hammock. By the fireside there is a second man--supposed tobe on the watch--fast asleep, poor wretch! at the present moment.Behind the sleeper stands an old cask, which serves for a table.The objects at present on the table are, a pestle and mortar, anda saucepanful of the dry bones of animals--in plain words, thedinner for the day. By way of ornament to the dull brown walls,icicles appear in the crevices of the timber, gleaming atintervals in the red fire-light. No wind whistles outside thelonely dwelling--no cry of bird or beast is heard. Indoors, andout-of-doors, the awful silence of the Polar desert reigns, forthe moment, undisturbed.