CHAPTER XVII. THE APPROACH OF WINTER. ^T was the 21st of September. The sun was then passing through the autumnal equinox, that is to say, the day and night were of equal length all over the world. These successive alternations of light and darkness were hailed with delight by the inhabitants of the fort. It is easier to sleep in the absence of the sun, and darkness refreshes and strengthens the eyes, weary with the unchanging brightness of several months of daylight. We know that during the equinox the tides are generally at their greatest height ; we have high water or flood, for the sun and moon being in conjunction, their double influence is brought to bear upon the waters. It was, therefore, necessary to note carefully the approaching tide at Cape Bathurst. Jaspar Hobson had made bench marks some days before, so as to estimate exactly the amount of vertical displacement of the waters between high and low tide ; he found, however, that in spite of all the reports of previous observers, the combined solar and lunar influence was hardly felt in this part of the Arctic Ocean. There was scarcely any tide at all, and the statements of navigators on the subject were contradicted. " There is certainly something unnatural here 1 " said Lieutenant Hobson to himself. He did not in fact know what to think, but other cares soon occupied his mind, and he did not long endeavour to get to the rights of this singular peculiarity. On the 29th September the state of the atmosphere changed considerably. The thermometer fell to 41o Fahrenheit, and the sky became covered with clouds which were soon converted into heavy rain. The bad season was approaching. Before the ground should be covered with snow, Mrs Joliff'e waa busy sowing the seeds of Cochlearia (scurvy grass) and sorrel, in the hope that as they were very hardy, and would be well protected
