The main object of the voyage having now been gained, Fred Temple did
not care to push northward with the earnest haste that he had hitherto
exhibited. He did, indeed, avail himself of a fine southerly breeze
which sprang up, and succeeded in reaching latitude 67 and a half
degrees, where he saw the sun all night from the deck of his little
yacht; but he devoted himself henceforth to enjoying the country fully.
He no longer sailed against baffling winds, but went quite contentedly
in any direction in which the wind chose to blow him. The consequence
was that he visited many curious out-of-the-way places, and saw many
strange sights; besides having a considerable number of peculiar
adventures. The week following that in which he first _saw the sun all
night_ was particularly full of small adventures. Let me briefly relate
a few.
One day, having left the schooner becalmed close to the mainland, they
took the boat and rowed towards the land. While they were pulling
along-shore under a tremendous cliff that rose out of the sea like a
wall, they heard voices on the top of the cliff. The top was lined with
bushes, so that they could see no one, but the sounds led them to
suppose that some persons were disputing there. Presently a crash was
heard, and, looking up, they beheld a dark object in the air. They had
just time to observe that this object was a pony and cariole, which had
evidently fallen from the top of the cliff, when they were drenched with
spray, and a mass of foam indicated the spot not three yards off, where
the whole affair had disappeared beneath the waves! In a few seconds
the pony came kicking to the surface. It had broken loose from the
cariole, and, strange to say, reached the shore unhurt and in safety.
Another day they saw a whale. It may not, perhaps, have occurred to
many people that, although a whale is a very well-known fish, and his
picture extremely familiar to us, the sight of a live whale about six or
eight yards under one's feet is an uncommonly startling and impressive
vision. Such a sight our voyagers saw while sailing up the Skars Fiord.
It was a calm day, and a pleasant day withal; and I think it right to
state that, although they did at times grumble at prolonged calms, their
grumbling was more than half feigned; while their gratitude for good
weather, bright days, not to mention nights, and pleasant scenes, was
sincere. But, to return to the point, it was a calm day, and they were
doing nothing--that is, nothing worthy of mention. The waters of the
fiord were deep and blue and clear, so that, looking over the side of
the yacht, they could see very far down in reality--countless fathoms in
imagination--into the mysterious abyss.