Viewing page 11 of 14

Here and there patches of yellow moss looking for all the world like branches of peaches on trees
at home and on the silver surface of the Fiord We see mirrored Ice [[underlined]] Cap [[/underlined]] mountains
Hill. Glaciers, Streams, valleys; and Plains. 
Several Bergs lay floating in the Fiord these; sparkled and shimmerd.
The Stream to the [[strikethrough]]  and [[/strikethrough]] North as he skimmed and dipped [[??]] the opposite
mountains; One saw scenes enacted, same as you see upon a stage in a theatre. 
The longest-day I live I shall never forget that night steaming out that Fjord. Right against the Eastern
[[strikethrough]] [[Gate??]] [[/strikethrough]] where the Great sun begin his State robed in flames and
amber light. The [[strikethrough]] [[??]] [[/strikethrough]] longer I go North the more beautiful 
it-becomes. (I suppose one; as he grows older become more mellow) This summer we had days and days of
fine weather. The crossing of Melville Bay coming South and thanks to the open water; we were
enabled to skirt the grey face of the glaciers, right into the shore. It was    
Please note that the language and terminology used in this collection reflects the context and culture of the time of its creation, and may include culturally sensitive information. As an historical document, its contents may be at odds with contemporary views and terminology. The information within this collection does not reflect the views of the Smithsonian Institution, but is available in its original form to facilitate research. For questions or comments regarding sensitive content, access, and use related to this collection, please contact