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AN ARCTIC STUDIO.
41
merged in the blue of the heavens, which was
spires very freely in these hard, steep jour
brightest at noon. The reign of night was
neys, but cools rapidly when a st p for rest
upon us, and with it the beginning of a series
or breath is taken, which adds to the discom-
of color-poems that the art of the painter
fort. We reached the camp at last, a snow
could only faintly portray. The thermometer
igloo at an elevation of 2500 feet. The igloo is
registering 4° below zero F., and the bay
built in two parts, through the small openings
3%
having frozen over, I took daily trips in the
of which we crawled to the inner room. The
uncertain, mysterious light that shone in the
floor of this room was strewn with hay; sleep-
far south- an orange radiance that brooded
ing-bags of skin, an oil-can and a stove, and
over the rich gray of the southern hills, fad-
a quantity of canned goods, completed the
DRAWN BY FRANK WILBERT STOKES.
ESKIMOS AT INGLEFIELD GULF MAKING STONEWARE.
ing toward the zenith successively into orange
furnishing. What little light the room ob-
madder, lemon, and dark lilac.
tained came in through a small opening in the
About the middle of November I visited
roof and through its semi-opaque walls of
for the first time Moraine Camp, five miles
snow. It was, as one may well imagine, a close
away from the studio. We started in clear,
and ill-smelling place, from which I was glad
calm weather, climbing all the way. On our
to escape.
right, rocky walls supported ice-caps from
In the last days of November the Innuit
1500 to 2500 feet in height; to the left
arrivals were numerous, and the hospitality
coursed that most majestic of rivers, the
of Kashoo's igloo and the lodge was taxed
glacier, cutting its way through lofty, pre-
to the utmost. The light was lessening da
cipitous crags of dark brown rock from the by day, though the beauty of this ice world
sea of ice which ran in great swells far
did not wane. I think I never felt the
inland. The path was very steep, and lay
strength, the glory, of silence so vividly
through deep snow, swept by icy wind which
on the 26th of the month, standing on a
nipped our faces and converted the hair upon
rocky height above the bay. Across the
them into a solid mass of icicles. One per- heavens beautiful auroras streamed at fre
1 FAR NORTH.
The chief peculiarity or color at the
black patches of water, the whole car-
north, so far as my short experience
rying the eye to the horizon-a taper-
lliant Color and
tells me, is that there are no semitones,
ing band of deep, rich blue merging
the general effect being either very
into the sky.
sing Loveliness.
black or just the opposite, intensely
In the immediate foreground of the
t Stokes, who was a
brilliant and rich in color.
ice floe, near the water's edgre, were
t Peary relief expe-
In fact, a summer's midnight at the
shallow pools of delicate blues, purples
idea of the charms
north has all the brilliance of our
and greens.
brightest noon, with the added inten-
Of the wealth of color in flower,
pes in a paper on
sity and richness of our most vivid
lichen and moss; of its curious riches
orth,' which he has
sunsets, while noon, when the sun is
as manifested in insect, shell and ani-
ptember number of
obscured by threatening masses of
mal life, and of its wonderful limning
bite the desolation,
storm clouds, is black. Indeed, it is the
skill as shown on the great inland ice,
true land of "impressionism.'
artistic standpoint,
ice-cap and glacier, I have neither pur-
I remember one brilliant morning
with seas and skies
pose nór pen to write.
when the measureless ether overhead,
This new world awaits the one who
ness.
a hue of exquisite blue, repeated itself
can truly describe it. In all these
a brilliance of color
in the perfect of the sea. Far away,
color effects at the North there lies a
er as something su-
on the otherwise clear-cut horizon, a
wizard-like power of enchantment-a
journ was from the
line of pure white ice shimmered its
distinctive uncanniness that, basilisk-
ough August and a
light up through a pinkish yellow
like, both attracts and repels.
iber-a period when
stratum of mist, which bathed in deli-
S are teeming with
cate greenish blue an enormous ice-
plant life.
berg that strongly resembled an an-
lod only am I quali
cient cathedral.
from the accounts
In the forenoon the sky, a threaten-
who have passed
ing black, overhung a vast, contorted
dreaded night sea-
sheet of white and pink, composed of
na occurring in the
ice floe and colossal bergs looming up
beautiful.
above mass at intervals, with deep,
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"ocrText": "AN ARCTIC STUDIO.\n41\nmerged in the blue of the heavens, which was\nspires very freely in these hard, steep jour\nbrightest at noon. The reign of night was\nneys, but cools rapidly when a st p for rest\nupon us, and with it the beginning of a series\nor breath is taken, which adds to the discom-\nof color-poems that the art of the painter\nfort. We reached the camp at last, a snow\ncould only faintly portray. The thermometer\nigloo at an elevation of 2500 feet. The igloo is\nregistering 4° below zero F., and the bay\nbuilt in two parts, through the small openings\n3%\nhaving frozen over, I took daily trips in the\nof which we crawled to the inner room. The\nuncertain, mysterious light that shone in the\nfloor of this room was strewn with hay; sleep-\nfar south- an orange radiance that brooded\ning-bags of skin, an oil-can and a stove, and\nover the rich gray of the southern hills, fad-\na quantity of canned goods, completed the\nDRAWN BY FRANK WILBERT STOKES.\nESKIMOS AT INGLEFIELD GULF MAKING STONEWARE.\ning toward the zenith successively into orange\nfurnishing. What little light the room ob-\nmadder, lemon, and dark lilac.\ntained came in through a small opening in the\nAbout the middle of November I visited\nroof and through its semi-opaque walls of\nfor the first time Moraine Camp, five miles\nsnow. It was, as one may well imagine, a close\naway from the studio. We started in clear,\nand ill-smelling place, from which I was glad\ncalm weather, climbing all the way. On our\nto escape.\nright, rocky walls supported ice-caps from\nIn the last days of November the Innuit\n1500 to 2500 feet in height; to the left\narrivals were numerous, and the hospitality\ncoursed that most majestic of rivers, the\nof Kashoo's igloo and the lodge was taxed\nglacier, cutting its way through lofty, pre-\nto the utmost. The light was lessening da\ncipitous crags of dark brown rock from the by day, though the beauty of this ice world\nsea of ice which ran in great swells far\ndid not wane. I think I never felt the\ninland. The path was very steep, and lay\nstrength, the glory, of silence so vividly\nthrough deep snow, swept by icy wind which\non the 26th of the month, standing on a\nnipped our faces and converted the hair upon\nrocky height above the bay. Across the\nthem into a solid mass of icicles. One per- heavens beautiful auroras streamed at fre\n1 FAR NORTH.\nThe chief peculiarity or color at the\nblack patches of water, the whole car-\nnorth, so far as my short experience\nrying the eye to the horizon-a taper-\nlliant Color and\ntells me, is that there are no semitones,\ning band of deep, rich blue merging\nthe general effect being either very\ninto the sky.\nsing Loveliness.\nblack or just the opposite, intensely\nIn the immediate foreground of the\nt Stokes, who was a\nbrilliant and rich in color.\nice floe, near the water's edgre, were\nt Peary relief expe-\nIn fact, a summer's midnight at the\nshallow pools of delicate blues, purples\nidea of the charms\nnorth has all the brilliance of our\nand greens.\nbrightest noon, with the added inten-\nOf the wealth of color in flower,\npes in a paper on\nsity and richness of our most vivid\nlichen and moss; of its curious riches\north,' which he has\nsunsets, while noon, when the sun is\nas manifested in insect, shell and ani-\nptember number of\nobscured by threatening masses of\nmal life, and of its wonderful limning\nbite the desolation,\nstorm clouds, is black. Indeed, it is the\nskill as shown on the great inland ice,\ntrue land of \"impressionism.'\nartistic standpoint,\nice-cap and glacier, I have neither pur-\nI remember one brilliant morning\nwith seas and skies\npose nór pen to write.\nwhen the measureless ether overhead,\nThis new world awaits the one who\nness.\na hue of exquisite blue, repeated itself\ncan truly describe it. In all these\na brilliance of color\nin the perfect of the sea. Far away,\ncolor effects at the North there lies a\ner as something su-\non the otherwise clear-cut horizon, a\nwizard-like power of enchantment-a\njourn was from the\nline of pure white ice shimmered its\ndistinctive uncanniness that, basilisk-\nough August and a\nlight up through a pinkish yellow\nlike, both attracts and repels.\niber-a period when\nstratum of mist, which bathed in deli-\nS are teeming with\ncate greenish blue an enormous ice-\nplant life.\nberg that strongly resembled an an-\nlod only am I quali\ncient cathedral.\nfrom the accounts\nIn the forenoon the sky, a threaten-\nwho have passed\ning black, overhung a vast, contorted\ndreaded night sea-\nsheet of white and pink, composed of\nna occurring in the\nice floe and colossal bergs looming up\nbeautiful.\nabove mass at intervals, with deep,"
}