There is a noise like thunder, and a mountain snaps in
two.
The upper half comes, crashing, grinding, down into the sea,
and loosened streams of water follow it. The sea is displaced
before the mighty heap; it boils and scatters up a cloud of spray;
it rushes back, and violently beats upon the shore. The mountain
rises from its bath, sways to and fro, while water pours along its
mighty sides; now it is tolerably quiet, letting crackers off as air
escapes out of its cavities. That is an iceberg, and in that way
are all icebergs formed. Mountains of ice formed by rain and snow -
grand Arctic glaciers, undermined by the sea or by accumulation
over-balanced - topple down upon the slightest provocation (moved by
a shout, perhaps), and where they float, as this black-looking
fellow does, they need deep water. This berg in height is about
ninety feet, and a due balance requires that a mass nine times as
large as the part visible should be submerged. Icebergs are seen
about us now which rise two hundred feet above the water's level.
There are above head plenty of aquatic birds; ashore, or on the ice,
are bears, foxes, reindeer; and in the sea there are innumerable
animals. We shall not see so much life near the North Pole, that is
certain. It would be worth while to go ashore upon an islet there,
near Vogel Sang, to pay a visit to the eider-ducks.
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