The midnight sun
The midnight sun had set , but in a crotch between two snow-peaks it had kindled a vast caldron from which rose a mist of jewels , garnet and turquoise , topaz and amethyst and opal , all swimming in a sea of molten gold . The glow of it still clung to the face of the broad Yukon , as a flush does to the soft , wrinkled cheek of a girl just roused from deep sleep . Except for a faint murkiness in the air it was still day . There was light enough for the four men playing pinochle on the upper deck , though the women of their party , gossiping in chairs grouped near at hand , had at last put aside their embroidery .