THE WORLD OF ICE. 163

“T do believe I’ve been asleep,” said Fred, rising
and stretching himself vigorously as the bright flame
of a tin lamp shot forth and shed a yellow lustre on
the white walls.

“Aslaap is it! be me conscience an’ ye have jist.
Oh, then, may I niver indulge in the same sort 0’
slumber !”

“Why so?” asked Fred in some surprise.

“You fell asleep on the ice, sir,’ answered West,
while he busied himself in spreading the tarpaulin
and blanket-bags on the floor of the hut, “and you
were very near frozen to death.”

“Frozen, musha! I’m not too sure that he’s melted
yit !” said O'Riley, taking him by the arm and looking
at him dubiously.

Fred laughed. “Oh yes; I’m melted now! But
let’s have supper, else I shall faint for hunger. Did
I sleep many hours ?”

“You slept only five minutes,” said West, in some
surprise at the question. “You were only gone about
ten minutes altogether.”

This was indeed the case. The intense desire for
sleep which is produced in Arctic countries when the
frost seizes hold of the frame soon confuses the
faculties of those who come under its influence. As
Jong as Fred had continued to walk and work he felt
quite warm ; but the instant he sat down on the lump
of ice to rest, the frost acted on him. Being much
exhausted, too, by labowr and long fasting, he was
more susceptible than he would otherwise have been