Before Blake left Lusitania Bay, I promised to see that the hut on Sandy Bay was re-stocked with provisions by the middle of the month, so, on the 8th, Hamilton, Sandell and I carried a supply of stores down there, leaving a note which informed him that we expected the 'Rachel Cohen' to arrive any day, and asking him to return to the Shack. On the way down we came upon a vast quantity of wreckage piled up on the beach, midway between "The Nuggets" and Sandy Bay. This was all that remained of the sealing schooner, 'Jessie Nichol', which had been wrecked on December 21, 1910. Three men were drowned, their bodies being interred among the tussock, each marked by a life belt and a small board on which the name was roughly carved.

On our homeward trip we caught some wekas for the pot and duly arrived at the Shack, tired, wet and hungry.

Next day, while sitting in the Shack reducing records, I heard a yell from Hamilton to the effect that the 'Rachel Cohen' was in sight, and about an hour later she dropped anchor in North-East Bay.

The sea was fairly smooth and no time was lost in bringing a boat ashore with the mails, of which each man received a share. A gang of sealers was landed with a view to obtaining sea elephant and penguin oil. I had wirelessed asking for a dinghy to be sent down, which would enable Hamilton to do more marine work; and it now came to hand. Further, we received an additional supply of photographic material and some rubber tubing for the anemometer, but the much needed boots did not arrive.

On the 18th a strong southerly gale sprang up and compelled the 'Rachel Cohen' to seek safety in flight; so she slipped her cable and put to sea. She had not yet landed all the sealers' stores and was forced to hang about the island till the weather moderated sufficiently for her to return to an anchorage.

The gentoo penguins, which had been observed at the beginning of the month building their nests, commenced to lay, and the first ten eggs were collected by us on September 18. Many sea elephant rookeries were now well-formed as the cows began to arrive about the 11th and were soon landing in large numbers. The first pups were heard on the 20th, and Bauer and I walked along to the rookery from which the barking came and had a look at the newcomers. There were only four, none of which was more than a few hours old, but they yapped their displeasure, and the mothers made frantic lunges at us when we approached to get a close view of them.

The sealers always gave the animals time to form their rookeries and then killed the bulls for oil. A well-conditioned full-grown animal yields about half a tun of oil, and as the commodity when refined has a market value of from L20 to L25 per tun, it will be seen that the industry is a profitable one. The cows being small never have a very thick coating of blubber, but I have seen bulls with blubber to a depth of eight inches, and some of them yield nearly two thousand pounds, though I should estimate the average yield at about one thousand one hundred pounds. The sealers in the early days used to obtain the oil by cutting the blubber up into very small pieces and melting it down in "try " pots. These pots, many of which may be still seen about the island, were made of very thick iron and the fuel used was the refuse taken from the pot itself. In the present method steam digestors are used, and the oil from the melted blubber is drawn off, after steam has been passing for twelve hours. Coal is brought down by the sealing-vessel to be used as fuel. The "elephant season" lasts only about three months, and within about four weeks of its conclusion, the "penguin season" begins; the same gang of men being employed as a rule. The most difficult operation in connexion with both of these industries is undoubtedly the loading and unloading of the vessel. If auxiliary power were used, the ship could then steam to within half a mile of the shore, but as it is, a sailing-vessel has to anchor about two miles off and the oil is towed in rafts over that distance.

We heard sounds from Adelie Land wireless station for the first time on September 25, 1912, but the signals were very faint and all that we could receive was: "Please inform Pennant Hills." Sawyer called them repeatedly for several hours, but heard no acknowledgment. Every effort was made to get in touch with them from this time forward, Sawyer remaining at the instrument until daylight every morning.

The Royal penguins returned to the island on the 27th and immediately commenced to make their way to the rookeries. They had been absent since April and were very fat after their long migration.

On the 28th Blake and Hamilton started out in the dinghy for Lusitania Bay. They had already made a step and sprit, and, with a calico sail hoisted, the frail craft ran before a light breeze. Having a fair wind they made good headway along the coast, dropping in at a gentoo penguin rookery en route, and collecting about two hundred and twenty eggs. Mac was a passenger and was a very sick dog all the trip.

Shortly after their departure, the 'Rachel Cohen', which had been blown away on the 18th, reappeared and again anchored. The captain reported having seen numerous icebergs, some of which were very large, about thirty miles to the eastward of the island. The sealers immediately commenced to get away the rest of their stores and coal and also to put some oil aboard the vessel, but on the following day the wind increased to such an extent that, in attempting to reach the ship with a raft of oil, they were blown down the coast and had to beach the boat several miles away.

On the night of the 29th Adelie Land wireless station was again heard tapping out a message apparently with the hope that some station would receive it. All we got was: "Having a hell of a time waiting for calm weather to put up more masts." Sawyer again repeatedly called, but they evidently could not hear him as no reply was received, and the above message was repeated time after time.

The weather during September was not quite so rough as that of the previous two or three months, but misty days were very frequent. Gales were experienced on six days and strong winds on nine days, but several quiet periods occurred. The average temperature was 38.6 degrees, with extremes of 44.7 degrees and 26 degrees F.

October was ushered in by a strong gale and rather heavy rain-squalls. The 'Rachel Cohen' had a severe buffeting, though she was lying on the lee side of the island.

Just about three-quarters of a mile to the west of the Shack were two large sea elephant rookeries, very close to each other, and on the 3rd Sandell and I went along to see what was happening there. We found about two hundred and fifty cows in the nearer one, and, as closely as we could count, about five hundred in the adjacent colony. The babel of sounds made one feel thankful that these noisy creatures were some distance from the Shack. Nearly all the cows had pups, some of which had reached a fair size, while others were only a few hours old. We saw several dead ones, crushed out almost flat, and some skuas were busily engaged gorging themselves on the carcases. These birds are indeed professional plunderers, and will venture almost anywhere in pursuit of food.

During the evening we again heard Adelie Land station working, and the burden of their message to an apparently chance audience was: "We do not seem able to get Macquarie Island, all is well, though bad weather has so far prevented any attempt at sledging."

Sawyer again called them at regular intervals for the rest of the night, but, as before, got no response.

Hamilton and Blake were busy at Lusitania Bay during the first two weeks of October securing sea elephant specimens and collecting eggs. They visited Caroline Cove where is established a giant petrel rookery containing about four hundred birds, and gathered a large number of eggs—purely specimens, as they are no use otherwise.

The 'Rachel Cohen' finally left us on the 8th, expecting to pay another visit in December for the purpose of taking off the sea elephant oil procured by the sealers. Sandell and I visited the gentoo penguin colony in Aerial Cove during the afternoon, for the purpose of getting a few eggs. We found plenty there and collected as many as we required. On returning to the empty nests, the birds would first of all peer round to assure themselves that the eggs were really missing, and then throw their heads back, swaying them from side to side to the accompaniment of loud, discordant cries.

Several of us started out on the 10th to visit the west coast for the purpose of getting some wekas and, incidentally, to make any observations possible. We saw thousands of sea elephants along the coast and passed many rookeries of various sizes. There were a large number of wekas about, but after shooting fourteen we were satisfied with our bag.

A westerly gale during the night proved too much for the aerial, and down it came. Blake and Hamilton were away, so Sawyer, Sandell and I went up, and after much battling and frequent use of the "handy billy" succeeded in fixing things. We also re-tightened the wire stays and thoroughly overhauled the ropes. Snow and sleet fell all the time, making the task most disagreeable.

About the middle of the month the Royal penguins commenced to lay, and on the 17th Sandell and I went to their rookeries at "The Nuggets" and collected about fifteen dozen eggs, which we buried in a hole in the bank of the creek for preservation. This species of penguin is the one which is killed for oil, not because it is any fatter than the others, but because it lives in such large colonies. There is one rookery of these birds on the south end of the island which covers an area of sixteen and a half acres, whilst at "The Nuggets" there are numbers of them scattered along the banks of a creek which reaches the sea, aggregating ten acres. At the latter place are situated the oil works belonging to the sealers.

From careful observation I should say that the number of birds killed during the season would not total one hundred and fifty thousand. The method of killing—by blows from a heavy club—is about as humane as any that could be adopted, and the yearly increase in numbers in the only rookeries that are being worked is certainly greater than the decrease due to the depredations of the sealers. Apart from this, there are acres of rookeries on the island from which not a single bird is taken, and they go on year after year adding thousands upon thousands to their already vast numbers.

This species resembles the others in habits, and I shall not describe them at any length. They are of the same colour as the Victoria penguins, but have a more orderly crest. Their rookeries are always on or very close to a running stream which forms the highway along which they travel to and fro. There is no policeman on duty, but a well-ordered procession is somehow arranged whereby those going up keep to one side and those coming down keep to the other. Once they are in the rookery, however, different conditions obtain. Here are fights, squabbles and riots, arising from various causes, the chief of which appears to be a disposition on the part of some birds to loiter about. During the nesting time much disorder prevails, and fights, in which beaks and flippers are energetically used, may be seen in progress at various places throughout the rookery. The nests are made of small stones, and occasionally, a bone or two from the skeleton of some long-dead relative forms part of the bulwarks. The attempt on the part of some birds to steal stones from surrounding nests is about the most fruitful cause of a riot, and the thief generally gets soundly thrashed, besides which all have a peck at him as he makes his way with as much haste as possible from the danger-zone. As the season advances, these rookeries become covered with filthy slush, but it seems to make no difference to the eggs, as the chicks appear in due course. When the moulting process is in full swing the rookeries are very crowded, and feathers and slush then become mixed together, making the place anything but fragrant.

A fifty-four mile gale from the west-north-west blew down on us on the 20th, but shortly after noon it weakened, and, towards evening, with the shifting of the wind to southwest, came squalls of sleet and snow and a drop in temperature. Hamilton returned from Lusitania Bay in the dinghy on the 21st, but Blake stopped there as he had not yet finished his work in that locality. The dinghy was well laden with specimens of various kinds and, on the way up, some wood and pickets were left at Green Valley for future requirements.

On the 25th Sandell and I visited the west coast, but, instead of going the usual way, we walked down the east coast and went up the creek at "The Nuggets" with a view to having a look at the penguin colonies along its course, finally crossing over the hills and getting into another creek, which we followed all the way down to the west coast. Along this creek were numerous waterfalls, one of which was quite sixty feet in height with wind-blown spray frozen white on the rocks on either side. We came across several giant petrel rookeries, and were treated to a display of the "stinker's" ability to make himself objectionable. A pair of sooty albatrosses were seen nesting on the front of a rocky steep, but on climbing up we found that they had not yet laid. After catching some wekas and taking a few photographs we returned to the Shack.

On the last day of the month several of us crossed the hills to the west coast in search of plants and birds' eggs. We secured a number of plant specimens—a further sign of the arrival of spring—including two which bore a very small flower, and were most successful in obtaining skuas', giant petrels' and sooty albatrosses' eggs.

During the evening I received a message from Captain Davis stating that the 'Aurora' would visit us in about three weeks' time and inquiring if we needed any supplies. This was entirely unexpected, as we thought that no more would be seen of the Ship until she came to take us home at the end of March 1913.

Earthquake shocks were felt at 1.55 A.M. and 9.35 A.M. on October 28, but did no damage other than to bring down some loose rock. Auroral displays were rather frequent but not very pronounced, and in most cases could only be classed as "glows."

A bright sunny morning on the 3rd induced Hamilton and me to make a photographic excursion along the coast. Hitherto only still-life photos had been taken, but with the sunlight we were then having, any work was possible, so we determined to have some "shots" at the sea elephants. They were rather difficult subjects, strange to say, but we spent some time amongst them and did famously, till a snow-squall made us suspend operations.

We heard the discordant but mournful cry of a sooty albatross coming from the cliff-front, so Hamilton climbed up and, after scrambling about for a while, succeeded in finding a nest, which contained one egg. This led him to look along the cliffs fronting the east coast, and on the following morning he found several nests and caught two birds, both of which were taken by hand while on the nest. They had beautiful plumage and made very fine specimens.

Blake returned from Lusitania Bay during the afternoon of the 4th and reported that he required only four or five days to complete the survey. The configuration of the island at the southern end is vastly different to that shown in the published charts, and this became more apparent as Blake's figures were plotted.

The news that Piastre had won the Melbourne Cup was flashed about all over the southern ocean during the evening, and we picked it up; but as this was the first we had heard of the animal, nobody seemed much interested. It certainly gave a turn to the conversation, and quite a sporting tone permeated the discussions of the ensuing two or three days.

The subjects of discussion were usually those of environment, and most of our talk centred round sea elephants, sea-leopards, penguins, temperatures, wind, wireless telegraphy, fish, aurorae, exploration, ships, Queensland and New Zealand. Sea elephants and penguins do offer scope for a considerable amount of conversation, as one observes them under such different circumstances, and they are so odd that something remarkable is always associated with the sight of them. The weather, being practically the bete noire of our existence, came in for a good deal of abuse. Wireless telegraphy is a mighty interesting subject at all times, and we passed many hours of our stay in discussing its future. All the members were, allegedly, fishermen of some calibre, and when I have said that, anybody with a knowledge of the man who claims ability as an angler will know what all the others, in turn, had to receive with restrained and respectful admiration. The advantages of settlement in Queensland were so apparent to at least one member of the party that he simply could not understand why thousands were not annually killed in the rush to get to this, "the greatest of all the Australian States." Good old silky oak!

The scenery of New Zealand was almost as well known to us as to anybody who has lived in the country all his life, and three of us had never been there. We have sat round the Shack sometimes and only the roar of a sea elephant outside reminded us that we were not, as we imagined, at a Maori "tangi." The wages to be earned there, the delights of travelling, the legislators, Rotorua, kauri pine, and the moon they've got in Auckland—we've heard of all these and marvelled at them. "Kapai te Maori!"

Blake and Hamilton went to Sandy Bay in the dinghy on the 6th in order to complete some work. They improved the hut there, to the extent of making a fire-place and laying barrel-staves on the floor, afterwards bringing a boat-load of timber from the 'Jessie Nichol' wreck and rigging up a board bunk sufficiently large to accommodate both of them.

While walking down to the 'Clyde' wreck for some wood on the 7th I saw a strange bird on the beach, and, returning to the Shack for the gun, I got him at the second shot. He was a land bird and had evidently been blown out of his course, as none of his kind had been seen before on the island.

On getting up on the following morning I found poor old Ma lying dead, and the feathers which lay about indicated that she had been the victim of a savage assault, but whether at the teeth of a dog or the beak of a skua I was unable to determine. This was most unfortunate, as the hens had all started to lay again two days previously; but apart from this she was a funny old creature and one could almost hold a conversation with her, so we regretted her loss. However, to make amends for this disaster the Victoria penguins started to lay on the same day, and as several of their rookeries were only a few minutes' walk from the Shack, the position was much the same as if we owned a poultry farm.

Hamilton returned from Sandy Bay on the 17th and immediately set about collecting shags' eggs. He visited Aerial Cove for the purpose but did not get enough, and was compelled to go to West Point, where he gathered twenty-four dozen for specimens. He now had a collection of eggs of all birds which nest on the island, with the exception of the weka and the tern.

At 6.30 P.M. on November 22 the 'Aurora' steamed into North-East Bay and dropped anchor. Hamilton, Blake and Sawyer launched the dinghy and pulled out to receive the mails, which they brought ashore for distribution. All on board were well and Captain Davis sent word to say he would land in the morning, bringing our goods and some visitors—Professor Flynn of Hobart and Mr. Denny.

The 'Aurora' next day steamed round North Head and took a series of soundings between the main island and the Judge and Clerk. These latter islets lie about eight miles to the north of North Head, and are merely rocks about eighty feet high upon which thousands of shags and other birds have established rookeries. On the following morning we said good-bye to the Ship, which weighed anchor and steamed away, leaving us once more to our own devices.

All the flowering plants were now showing their extremely modest blooms, and the tussock looked like a field of wheat, each stem having a decided ear. The gentoo penguins, as well as the giant petrels, had hatched their eggs, and the parent birds were shouldering full responsibilities.

Blake and Hamilton were now prepared for another visit to the southern end. Blake had almost completed the chart of the island, and the difference between it and the published chart was very striking. In the latter case the south end was shown as being six miles wide, whereas it is in reality only a little more than two miles across, and the width of the island is nowhere more than three and a half miles. About twenty miles from the southern end lie two islets known as the Bishop and Clerk. The former, which is the larger, is covered with a growth of tussock, while the latter is mainly bare rock.

A distinct rise in temperature was noticeable during November and the mean worked out at 41.6 degrees, while the extremes were 49 degrees and 82 degrees F. Strong winds were recorded on thirteen days and six short-lived gales occurred. We had less precipitation than during any previous month, as thirteen dry days were experienced. The average cloudiness was 93 per cent.; largely due to the frequent foggy or misty weather.

On December 2, at 10 A.M., Blake and I packed our sleeping-bags and blankets and started for Sandy Bay. The swags weighed only thirty-five pounds each and we made a rather quick trip.

After repairing the dilapidated shack, we sallied out for the purpose of catching our evening meal, and with the aid of Mac soon succeeded in getting eight wekas. A sea elephant was then killed, and the blubber, heart and tongue taken; the first-named for use as fuel and the others for food. We cleaned the wekas and put them in the pot, cooking the whole lot together, a proceeding which enabled us to forgo cooking a breakfast in the morning. The beach was swarming with young sea elephants and many could be seen playing about in a small, shallow lagoon.

Just south of the hut there is a sandy spit and one of the only stretches of beach on the island, where thousands of penguins from the adjacent rookeries were congregated, amongst them being three King penguins, which were easily distinguishable on account of their great size.

Feeling a little weary, I sought the hut about 9 P.M. and turned into the sleeping-bag, which was placed on a board bottom covered with tussock, which was by no means uncomfortable. The old place smoked so much that we decided to let the fire die down, and as soon as the smoke had cleared away, the imperfections of the hut became apparent; rays of moonlight streaming through countless openings in the walls and roof.

We rose at 6.30 A.M. While Blake lit the fire, I went out to fill the billy at a small stream running out of the hills about sixty yards away. After breakfast we set out for Green Valley, but had not gone very far when it began to blow very hard from the south, straight in our faces, and we scrambled on towards our destination amidst squalls of snow, hail and sleet. Eventually we reached the valley and had a somewhat meagre lunch in a small cave. The title "cave" rather dignifies this hole in the rock, but it was the only friendly spot in a most inhospitable locality, and we were inclined to be generous,

On the whole, the length of coast we had traversed was found to be as rough as any on the island. There is not a stretch of one hundred yards anywhere that can be termed "good going." In many places we found that the steep cliffs approached very close to the water, and the mournful cry of the sooty albatross could be heard coming from points high on the face of the cliffs, while the wekas were so tame that one could almost walk up and catch them.

A large creek whose banks are overhung with a coarse growth of fern makes its way out of the hills and runs into Sandy Bay. Just a little to the south of this creek Blake discovered a terminal moraine about two hundred yards in length and fifty feet wide. It rests on sandstone about fifteen feet above the present sea-level and the boulders consist of polished and sub-angular blocks of sandstone and porphyry of various sizes. It evidently belongs to the valley or to a later stage of glaciation. The rocks along the coast are all a volcanic series, and basic dykes are visible in many places.

We arose at 7 A.M. next day and breakfasted on porridge, weka, fried heart, "hard-tack" and cocoa. Leaving the hut shortly afterwards we climbed on to the hills and travelled south for several miles in order to fix the position of some lakes and creeks. There was one lake in the vicinity about half a mile long and to all appearances very deep. It lay between two steep hills, and the grassy bank at one end and the small sloping approach at the other gave it an artificial appearance, while the water was beautifully clear and perfectly fresh. At the sloping end, dozens of skuas were busily engaged washing themselves and the flapping of their wings in the water made a remarkable noise, audible at a considerable distance on the hill-tops. On returning to the hut at Sandy Bay several rabbits secured by Mac were cleaned and put on to boil.

Next morning a dense mist shrouded the island till about 11 A.M., but the weather becoming fine and bright, we started for the west coast about noon. During our progress along the bed of a creek, Blake discovered what was believed to be a glacial deposit containing fossil bones, and considerable time was spent in examining this and attempting to extract whole specimens, thereby making it too late to proceed to the west. On returning to the hut we decided to pack the swags. We reached home just in time for tea, finding that nothing unusual had occurred during our four days' absence.

Hamilton and Blake went out fishing in the dinghy on the 9th and made a remarkable haul of fish, sixty in number, ranging in size from a few ounces to twelve and a half pounds. They were all of the same species, somewhat resembling rock cod, but as usual they were covered with external parasites, and their flesh was full of worm-cysts. Hamilton preserved a number of them and the rest were cooked, but we did not relish them very much and the one meal was enough.

On December 11 we had a hard gale all day, the anemometer recording "bursts" of over fifty miles an hour frequently, while the average exceeded forty miles an hour throughout. Twelve months ago on that day we had made our first landing on the island from the 'Aurora', but vastly different weather conditions prevailed at the time.

Christmas Day was now very close at hand, and as Blake and Hamilton were going to celebrate at the other end of the island, whence they had gone on the 10th, Sawyer, Sandell and I arranged a little "spread" for ourselves. Sawyer produced a cake which he had received in the recent mail, and some friend had forwarded a plum pudding to Sandell, so on Christmas Day these, with a boiled ham, some walnuts, mince rolls and a bottle of stout were spread on the table, which had been decorated with tussock stuck in sea elephants' tusks. The highest temperature registered on the island during our stay—51.8 degrees F.—was recorded on Christmas Day, and the sun seemed so warm that Sandell and I ventured into the sea for a dip, but the temperature of the water was not high enough to make it an agreeable experience.

During the evening of the 26th we received a message saying that the 'Aurora' had left Hobart on her trip south to bring back the two parties from Antarctica, but no mention of picking us up on the return journey was made.

The King penguins and "night birds" had laid by this time, and Hamilton added more eggs to his collection. He found for the first time a colony of mutton birds near the south end. He also came upon a mollymawk rookery on the south-western point of the island, and managed to take one of the birds by hand.

Blake and he had an accident in the dinghy on the 29th, fortunately attended by no serious results. They had gone from Lusitania Bay to the south end, and, while attempting to land through the surf, the boat struck a rock and capsized, throwing them into the water. They had many things in the boat but lost only two billies, two pannikins, a sounding line and Hamilton's hat, knife and pipe. Their blankets floated ashore in a few minutes, and the oars came floating in later in the day. After the capsize Hamilton managed to reach the boat and turn her over, and Blake made for a kelp-hung rock, but, after pulling himself up on to it, was immediately washed off and had to swim ashore. The boat was afterwards found to be stove-in in two places, though the breaks were easily patched up subsequently.

New Year's Eve came and with keen anticipations we welcomed the advent of 1913.



CHAPTER XXVII THROUGH ANOTHER YEAR

by G. F. Ainsworth

We had now thrown a year behind and the work we set out to accomplish was almost finished; so it was with pleasurable feelings that we took up the burden of completion, looking forward to the arrival of April 1913 which should bring us final relief and the prospects of civilisation. I shall deal with the first three months of the year as one period, since almost all the field-work, except photography, had been done, and, after the return of Blake and Hamilton from Lusitania Bay on January 8, our life was one of routine; much time being devoted to packing and labelling specimens in anticipation of departure.

The first business of the year was to overhaul the wireless station, and on the 6th, Sawyer, Sandell and I spent the day laying in a supply of benzine from Aerial Cove, changing worn ropes, tightening stay-wires, straightening the southern masts and finally hauling the aerial taut. These duties necessitated much use of the "handy billy," and one has but to form an acquaintance with this desirable "person" to thoroughly appreciate his value.

Blake and Hamilton returned on January 8 and reported that their work was finished at the southern end. Thenceforth they intended to devote their time to finishing what remained to be done at the northern end and in adding to their collections. Blake, for instance, resolved to finish his chart of the island, and, if time permitted, to make a topographical survey of the locality, as it was of great geological interest. Hamilton made the discovery that a number of bird specimens he had packed away were mildewed, and as a result he was compelled to overhaul the whole lot and attend to them. He found another colony of mutton birds on North Head, the existence of which was quite unexpected till he dug one out of a burrow thought to contain "night-birds."

About the middle of January I endeavoured to do a little meteorological work with the aid of some box-kites manufactured by Sandell. But though a number of them were induced to fly, we had no success in getting them up with the instruments attached. They all had a habit of suddenly losing equilibrium and then indulging in a series of rapid dives and plunges which usually ended in total wreckage.

The 'Rachel Cohen' again visited the island on January 26, but this time she anchored off "The Nuggets," whither the sealers had gone to live during the penguin season. We could see the ship lying about a mile offshore, and walked down to get our mails and anything else she had brought along for us. I received a letter from the Secretary of the Expedition saying that he had made arrangements for us to return by the 'Rachel Cohen' early in April, and the news caused a little excitement, being the only definite information we had had concerning relief.

The end of the first month found Blake and Hamilton both very busy in making suitable boxes for specimens. Many of the larger birds could not be packed in ordinary cases, so Hamilton had to make specially large ones to accommodate them, and Blake's rock specimens being very heavy, extra strong boxes had to be made, always keeping in view the fact that each was to weigh not more than eighty pounds, so as to ensure convenient handling.

After a silence of about four months, we again heard Adelie Land on February 3, but the same old trouble existed, that is, they could not hear us. Sawyer called them again and again, getting no reply, but we reckoned that conditions would improve in a few weeks, as the hours of darkness increased.

Hamilton and I made a trip to the hill-tops on the 4th for the purpose of taking a series of plant and earth temperatures which were of interest biologically, and while there I took the opportunity of obtaining temperatures in all the lakes we saw. Hamilton also took some panoramic photographs from the various eminences and all of them turned out well.

During the evening Adelie Land sent out a message saying that Dr. Mawson had not yet returned to the Base from his sledging trip and Sawyer received it without difficulty, but though he "pounded away" in return for a considerable time, he was not heard, as no reply or acknowledgment was made.

The 'Rachel Cohen' remained till the 5th, when a northerly gale arose and drove her away. As she had a good cargo of oil on board no one expected her to return. We had sent our mail on board several days previously as experience had shown us that the sailing date of ships visiting the island was very uncertain.

Sandell met with a slight though painful accident on the 7th. He was starting the engine, when it "backfired" and the handle flying off with great force struck him on the face, inflicting a couple of nasty cuts, loosening several teeth, and lacerating the inside of his cheek. A black eye appeared in a day or two and his face swelled considerably, but nothing serious supervened. In a few days the swelling had subsided and any anxiety we felt was at an end.

We now had only two sheep left, and on the 8th Blake and I went to kill one. Mac accompanied us. Seeing the sheep running away, she immediately set off after them, notwithstanding our threats, yells and curses. They disappeared over a spur, but shortly afterwards Mac returned, and, being severely thrashed, immediately left for home. We looked for the sheep during the rest of the day but could find no trace of them, and though we searched for many days it was not till five weeks had elapsed that we discovered them on a small "landing" about half-way down the face of the cliff. They had apparently rushed over the edge and, rolling down, had finally come to a stop on the ledge where they were found later, alive and well.

On the 8th Adelie Land was heard by us calling the 'Aurora' to return at once and pick up the rest of the party, stating also that Lieutenant Ninnis and Dr. Mertz were dead. All of us were shocked at the grievous intelligence and every effort was made by Sawyer to call up Adelie Land, but without success.

On the following day we received news from Australia of the disaster to Captain Scott's party.

Blake, who was now geologizing and doing topographical work, discovered several lignite seams in the hills on the east coast; he had finished his chart of the island. The mainland is simply a range of mountains which have been at some remote period partly submerged. The land meets the sea in steep cliffs and bold headlands, whose general height is from five hundred to seven hundred feet, with many peaks ranging from nine hundred and fifty to one thousand four hundred and twenty feet, the latter being the height of Mount Hamilton, which rears up just at the back of Lusitania Bay. Evidence of extreme glaciation is everywhere apparent, and numerous tarns and lakes are scattered amongst the hills, the tops of which are barren, wind-swept and weather-worn. The hill sides are deeply scored by ravines, down which tumble small streams, forming cascades at intervals on their hurried journey towards the ocean. Some of these streams do not reach the sea immediately, but disappear in the loose shingly beaches of peaty swamps. The west coast is particularly rugged, and throughout its length is strewn wreckage of various kinds, some of which is now one hundred yards from the water's edge. Very few stretches of what may be called "beach" occur on the island; the foreshores consisting for the most part of huge water-worn boulders or loose gravel and shingle, across which progress is slow and difficult.

[TEXT ILLUSTRATION]

A Section across Macquarie Island through Mt. Elder

Apparently the ground shelves very rapidly under the water, as a sounding of over two thousand fathoms was obtained by the 'Aurora' at a distance of eight miles from the east coast. The trend of the island is about eleven degrees from true north; the axis lying north by east to south by west. At either end are the island-groups already referred to, and their connexion with the mainland may be traced by the sunken rocks indicated by the breaking seas on the line of reef.

A very severe storm about the middle of the month worked up a tremendous sea, which was responsible for piling hundreds of tons of kelp on the shore, and for several days tangled masses could be seen drifting about like small floating islands.

On the 20th an event occurred to which we had long looked forward, and which was now eagerly welcomed. Communication was established with the Main Base in Adelie Land by wireless! A message was received from Dr. Mawson confirming the deaths of Ninnis and Mertz, and stating that the 'Aurora' had not picked up the whole party. Sawyer had a short talk with Jeffryes, the Adelie Land operator, and among other scraps of news told him we were all well.

Hamilton killed a sea elephant on the 22nd. The animal was a little over seventeen feet long and thirteen and a half feet in girth just at the back of the flippers, while the total weight was more than four tons. It took Hamilton about a day to complete the skinning, and, during the process, the huge brute had to be twice turned over, but such is the value of the nautical handy-billy that two men managed it rather easily. When the skin had been removed, five of us dragged it to the sealers' blubber-shed, where it was salted, spread out, and left to cure.

We had communication with Adelie Land again on the 26th, and messages were sent and received by both stations. Dr. Mawson wirelessed to the effect that the 'Aurora' would, after picking up Wild's party, make an attempt to return to Adelie Land if conditions were at all favourable.

Finding that provisions were running rather short on the last day of February, we reduced ourselves to an allowance of one pound of sugar per week each, which was weighed out every Thursday. Altogether there were only forty-five pounds remaining. Thenceforth it was the custom for each to bring his sugar-tin to the table every meal. The arrangement had its drawbacks, inasmuch as no sugar was available for cooking unless a levy were made. Thus puddings became rareties, because most of us preferred to use the sugar in tea or coffee.

March came blustering in, accompanied by a sixty-four-mile gale which did damage to the extent of blowing down our annexe, tearing the tarpaulin off the stores at the back and ripping the spouting off the Shack. A high sea arose and the conformation of the beach on the north-western side of the isthmus was completely changed. Numbers of sea elephants' tusks and bones were revealed, which had remained buried in the shingle probably for many years, and heaps of kelp were piled up where before there had been clean, stony beach. Kelp is a very tough weed, but after being washed up and exposed to the air for a few days, begins to decay, giving forth a most disagreeable smell.

At this time we caught numerous small fish amongst the rocks at the water's edge with a hand line about four feet long. It was simply a matter of dropping in the line, watching the victim trifle with destiny and hauling him in at the precise moment.

Wireless business was now being done nightly with Adelie Land, and on the 7th I received a message from Dr. Mawson saying that the party would in all probability be down there for another season, and stating the necessity for keeping Macquarie Island station going till the end of the year. This message I read out to the men, and gave them a week in which to view the matter. The alternatives were to return in April or to remain till the end of the year.

I went through the whole of the stores on the 10th, and found that the only commodities upon which we would have to draw sparingly were milk, sugar, kerosene, meats and coal. The flour would last till May, but the butter allowance would have to be reduced to three pounds per week.

It was on the 12th that we found the lost sheep, but as we had some wekas, sufficient to last us for several days, I did not kill one till the 15th. On that day four of us went down towards the ledge where they were standing, and shot one, which immediately toppled off and rolled down some distance into the tussock, the other one leaping after it without hesitation. While Blake and Hamilton skinned the dead sheep, Sandell and I caught the other and tethered it at the bottom of the hill amongst a patch of Maori cabbage, as we thought it would probably get lost if left to roam loose. However, on going to the spot next day, the sheep was nearly dead, having got tangled up in the rope. So we let it go free, only to lose the animal a day or two later, for it fell into a bog and perished.

On March 22 a lunar eclipse occurred, contact lasting a little over three hours from 9.45 P.M. till within a few minutes of 1 A.M. on the 23rd. The period of total eclipse was quite a lengthy one, and during the time it lasted the darkness was intense. Cloud interfered for a while with our observations in the total stage. No coronal effect was noted, though a pulsating nebulous area appeared in front of the moon just before contact.

A message came on the 27th saying that the 'Rachel Cohen' was sailing for Macquarie Island on May 2, and would bring supplies as well as take back the men who wished to be relieved, and this was forwarded in turn to Dr. Mawson.

He replied, saying that the 'Aurora' would pick us up about the middle of November and convey us to Antarctica, thence returning to Australia; but if any member wished to return by the 'Rachel Cohen' he could do so, though notification would have to be given, in order to allow of substitutes being appointed. All the members of the party elected to stay, and I asked each man to give an outline of the work he intended to pursue during the extended period.

During March strong winds were recorded on fourteen days, reaching gale-force on six occasions. The gale at the beginning of the month was the strongest we had experienced, the velocity at 5.40 A.M. on the 1st reaching sixty-four miles per hour. Precipitation occurred on twenty-six days and the average amount of cloud was 85 per cent. A bright auroral display took place on the 6th, lasting from 11.20 till 11.45 P.M. It assumed the usual arch-form stretching from the south-east to south-west, and streamers and shafts of light could be observed pulsating upwards towards the zenith.

We now started on what might be called the second stage of our existence on the island. In the preceding pages I have endeavoured to give some idea of what happened during what was to have been our full period; but unforeseen circumstances compelled us to extend our stay for eight months more, until the 'Aurora' came to relieve us in November. As the routine was similar in a good many respects to that which we had just gone through, I shall now refer to only the more salient features of our life.

The loyalty of my fellows was undoubted, and though any of them could have returned if he had felt so inclined, I am proud to say that they all decided to see it through. When one has looked forward hopefully to better social conditions, more comfortable surroundings and reunion with friends, it gives him a slight shock to find that the door has been slammed, so to speak, for another twelve months. Nevertheless, we all found that a strain of philosophy smoothed out the rough realities, and in a short time were facing the situation with composure, if not actual contentment.

We decided now to effect a few improvements round about our abode, and all set to work carrying gravel from the beach to put down in front of the Shack, installing a sink-system to carry any waste water, fixing the leaking roof and finally closing up the space between the lining and the wall to keep out the rats.

We expected the 'Rachel Cohen' to leave Hobart with our stores on May 2, and reckoned that the voyage would occupy two weeks. Thus, it would be six weeks before she arrived. I was therefore compelled on the 10th to reduce the sugar allowance to half a pound per week. We were now taking it in turns to go once a week and get some wekas, and it was always possible to secure about a dozen, which provided sufficient meat for three dinners. Breakfast consisted generally of fish, which we caught, or sea elephant in some form, whilst we had tinned fish for lunch.

Sandell installed a telephone service between the Shack and the wireless station about the middle of April, the parts all being made by himself; and it was certainly an ingenious and valuable contrivance. I, in particular, learned to appreciate the convenience of it as time went on. The buzzer was fixed on the wall close to the head of my bunk and I could be called any time during the night from the wireless station, thus rendering it possible to reply to communications without loss of time. Further, during the winter nights, when auroral observations had to be made, I could retire if nothing showed during the early part of the night, leaving it to Sandell, who worked till 2 or 3 A.M. to call me if any manifestation occurred.

We had heavy gales from the 12th to the 17th inclusive, the force of the wind during the period frequently exceeding fifty miles per hour, and, on the first-mentioned date, the barometer fell to 27.8 inches. The usual terrific seas accompanied the outburst.

Finding that there were only eight blocks of coal left, I reduced the weekly allowance to one. We had a good supply of tapioca, but neither rice nor sago, and as the sealers had some of the latter two, but none of the former, we made an exchange to the extent of twelve pounds of tapioca for eight pounds of rice and some sago. Only fifteen pounds of butter remained on the 20th, and I divided this equally, as it was now one of the luxuries, and each man could use his own discretion in eating it. As it was nearing the end of April, and no further word concerning the movements of the 'Rachel Cohen' had been received, I wirelessed asking to be immediately advised of the exact date of the vessel's departure. A reply came that the ship would definitely reach us within two months. I answered, saying we could wait two months, but certainly no longer.

With a view to varying the menu a little, Blake and I took Mac up on the hills on April 26 to get some rabbits and, after tramping for about six hours, we returned with seven. In our wanderings we visited the penguin rookeries at "The Nuggets," and one solitary bird sat in the centre of the vast area which had so lately been a scene of much noise and contention.

On May 1 I took an inventory of the stores and found that they would last for two months if economically used. Of course, I placed confidence in the statement that the 'Rachel Cohen' would reach the island within that time.

With the coming of May wintry conditions set in, and at the end of the first week the migrants had deserted our uninviting island. Life with us went on much the same as usual, but the weather was rather more severe than that during the previous year, and we were confined to the Shack a good deal.

The sealers who were still on the island had shifted back to the Hut at the north end so that they were very close to us and frequently came over with their dog in the evenings to have a yarn. The majority of them were men who had "knocked about" the world and had known many rough, adventurous years. One of them in particular was rather fluent, and we were often entertained from his endless repertoire of stories.

On the 23rd, finding that there were seventy-seven and a half pounds of flour remaining, and ascertaining that the sealers could let us have twenty-five pounds, if we ran short, I increased the allowance for bread to twelve and a half pounds per week, and this, when made up, gave each man two and three-quarter pounds of bread. Our supply of oatmeal was very low, but in order to make it last we now started using a mixture of oatmeal and sago for breakfast; of course, without any milk or sugar.

Just about this time Mac gave birth to six pups and could not help us in obtaining food. She had done valuable service in this connexion, and the loss in the foraging strength of the party was severely felt for several weeks. She was particularly deadly in hunting rabbits and wekas, and though the first-named were very scarce within a few miles of the Shack, she always managed to unearth one or two somewhere. Hut-slippers were made out of the rabbit skins and they were found to be a great boon, one being able to sit down for a while without his feet "going."

June arrived and with it much rough, cold weather. A boat was expected to come to our relief, at the very latest, by the 30th. We had a very chilly period during the middle of the month, and it was only by hand-feeding the "jacket" of the wireless motor that any work could be done by the station, as the tank outside was almost frozen solid.

The tide-gauge clock broke down towards the end of the month, and though I tried for days to get it going I was not successful. One of the springs had rusted very badly as a result of the frequent "duckings" the clock had experienced, and had become practically useless.

We had ascertained that the 'Rachel Cohen' was still in Hobart, so on the 23rd I wirelessed asking when the boat was to sail. The reply came that the 'Rachel Cohen' was leaving Hobart on Thursday, June 26.

Our supply of kerosene oil was exhausted by the end of the month, despite the fact that the rule of "lights out at 10 P.M." had been observed for some time. Thus we were obliged to use sea elephant oil in slush lamps. At first we simply filled a tin with the oil and passed a rag through a cork floating on the top, but a little ingenuity soon resulted in the production of a lamp with three burners and a handle. This was made by Sandell out of an old tea-pot and one, two or three burners could be lit as occasion demanded. During meal times the whole three burners were used, but, as the oil smoked and smelt somewhat, we generally blew out two as soon as the meal was finished. This was the "general" lamp, but each man had, as well, one of his own invention. Mine was scornfully referred to as the "house-boat," since it consisted of a jam tin, which held the oil, standing in a herring tin which caught the overflow.

At the end of June, Blake and I surveyed all the penguin rookeries round about "The Nuggets" and, allowing a bird to the square foot, found that there must have been about half a million birds in the area. The sealers kill birds from these rookeries to the number of about one hundred and thirty thousand yearly, so that it would seem reasonable to suppose that, despite this fact, there must be an annual increase of about one hundred thousand birds.

The end of the month arrived and, on making inquiries, we found that there was no news of the 'Rachel Cohen' having left Hobart. We had enough flour to last a fortnight, and could not get any from the sealers as they possessed only three weeks' supply themselves. However, on July 8, Bauer came across and offered to let us have some wheatmeal biscuits as they had a couple of hundredweights, so I readily accepted twenty pounds of them. We now had soup twice a day, and managed to make it fairly thick by adding sago and a few lentils. Cornflour and hot water flavoured with cocoa made a makeshift blanc-mange, and this, with sago and tapioca, constituted our efforts towards dessert.

On the 12th I received a message stating that the 'Rachel Cohen' had sailed on July 7; news which was joyfully received. We expected her to appear in ten or twelve days.

On the 18th we used the last ounce of flour in a small batch of bread, having fully expected the ship to arrive before we had finished it. Next day Bauer lent us ten pounds of oatmeal and showed us how to make oatmeal cakes. We tried some and they were a complete success, though they consisted largely of tapioca, and, according to the respective amounts used, should rather have been called tapioca cakes.

When the 22nd arrived and no ship showed up, I went across to see what the sealers thought of the matter, and found that they all were of opinion that she had been blown away to the eastward of the island, and might take a considerable time to "make" back.

On this date we came to the end of our meats, which I had been dealing out in a very sparing manner, just to provide a change from sea elephant and weka. We had now to subsist upon what we managed to catch. There were still thirty-five tins of soup, of which only two tins a day were used, so that there was sufficient for a few weeks. But we found ourselves running short of some commodity each day, and after the 23rd reckoned to be without bread and biscuit.

At this juncture many heavy blows were experienced, and on the 24th a fifty-mile gale accompanied by a tremendous sea beat down on us, giving the 'Rachel Cohen' a very poor chance of "making" the island. Our last tin of fruit was eaten; twelve tins having lasted us since March 31, and I also shared the remaining ten biscuits amongst the men on the 24th. We were short of bread, flour, biscuits, meats, fish, jam, sugar and milk, but had twenty tins of French beans, thirty tins of cornflour, some tapioca, and thirty tins of soup, as well as tea, coffee and cocoa in abundance. We had not been able to catch any fish for some days as the weather had been too rough, and, further, they appeared to leave the coasts during the very cold weather.

Sea elephants were very scarce, and we invariably had to walk some distance in order to get one; each man taking it in turn to go out with a companion and carry home enough meat for our requirements. We were now eating sea elephant meat three times a day (all the penguins having migrated) and our appetites were very keen. The routine work was carried on, though a great deal of time was occupied in getting food.

Bauer very generously offered to share his biscuits with us, but we fellows, while appreciating the spirit which prompted the offer, unanimously declined to accept them. We now concluded that something had happened to the ship, as at the end of July she had been twenty-four days out.

On August 3 we had a sixty-three-mile gale and between 1 and 2 A.M. the velocity of the wind frequently exceeded fifty miles per hour. Needless to say there was a mountainous sea running, and the Rachel Cohen, if she had been anywhere in the vicinity, would have had a perilous time.

A message came to me on August 6 from the Secretary of the Expedition, saying that the 'Rachel Cohen' had returned to New Zealand badly damaged, and that he was endeavouring to send us relief as soon as possible. I replied, telling him that our food-supply was done, but that otherwise we were all right and no uneasiness need be felt, though we wished to be relieved as soon as possible.

Splendid news came along on the 9th to the effect that the New Zealand Government's steamer 'Tutanekai' would tranship our stores from the 'Rachel Cohen' on the 15th and sail direct for the island.

Sawyer now became ill and desired me to make arrangements for his return. I accordingly wired to the Secretary, who replied asking if we could manage without an operator. After consulting Sandell, I answered that Sandell and I together could manage to run the wireless station.

Everybody now looked forward eagerly to the arrival of the 'Tutanekai', but things went on as before. We found ourselves with nothing but sea elephant meat and sago, with a pound-tin of French beans once a week and two ounces of oatmeal every morning.

We heard that the Tutanekai did not leave as expected on the 15th, but sailed on the afternoon of the 17th, and was coming straight to Macquarie Island. She was equipped with a wireless telegraphy outfit, which enabled us on the 18th to get in touch with her; the operator on board stating that they would reach us early on the morning of the 20th.

On the evening of the 19th we gave Sawyer a send-off dinner; surely the poorest thing of its kind, as far as eatables were concerned, that has ever been tendered to any one. The fare consisted of sea elephant's tongue "straight," after which a bottle of claret was cracked and we drank heartily to his future prosperity.

At 7.30 A.M. on the 20th the 'Tutanekai' was observed coming up the east coast, and as we had "elephanted" at 6 A.M. we were ready to face the day. I went across to the sealers' hut and accompanied Bauer in the launch to the ship, which lay at anchor about a mile from the shore. We scrambled on board, where I met Captain Bollons. He received me most courteously, and, after discussing several matters, suggested landing the stores straight away. I got into the launch to return to the shore, but the wind had freshened and was soon blowing a fresh gale. Still, Bauer thought we should have no difficulty and we pushed off from the ship. The engine of the launch failed after we had gone a few yards, the boat was blown rapidly down the coast, and we were eventually thrown out into the surf at "The Nuggets." The Captain, who witnessed our plight, sent his launch in pursuit of us, but its engines also failed. It now became necessary for the crew of the whale-boat to go to the assistance of the launch. However, they could do nothing against the wind, and, in the end, the ship herself got up anchor, gave the two boats a line and towed them back to the former anchorage. The work of unloading now commenced, though a fairly heavy surf was running. But the whaleboat of the 'Tutanekai' was so dexterously handled by the boatswain that most of our stores were landed during the day.

Sawyer went on board the 'Tutanekai' in the afternoon, thus severing his connexion with the Expedition, after having been with us on the island since December 1911. On the following morning, some sheep, coal and flour were landed, and, with a whistled good-bye, the 'Tutanekai' started north on her visit to other islands.

Our short period of stress was over and we all felt glad. From that time onwards we ate no more elephant meat "straight." A sheep was killed just as the 'Tutanekai' left, and we had roast mutton, scones, butter, jam, fruit and rice for tea. It was a rare treat.

All the stores were now brought up from the landing-place, and as I had put up several extra shelves some weeks previously, plenty of room was found for all the perishable commodities inside the Shack.

The beginning of September found me fairly busy. In addition to the meteorological work, the results of which were always kept reduced and entered up, I had to work on Wireless Hill during the evening and make auroral observations on any night during which there was a display, attending to the stores and taking the week of cooking as it came along.

Blake and Hamilton went down the island for several days on September 3, since they had some special observations to make in the vicinity of Sandy Bay.

The sea elephant season was now in progress, and many rookeries were well formed by the middle of the month. The skuas had returned, and on the 19th the advance-guard of the Royal penguins arrived. The gentoos had established themselves in their old "claims," and since the 12th we had been using their eggs for cooking.

Early in September time-signals were received from Melbourne, and these were transmitted through to Adelie Land. This practice was kept up throughout the month and in many cases the signals were acknowledged.

Blake and Hamilton returned to the Shack on the 24th, but left again on the 30th, as they had some more photographic work to do in the vicinity of Green Valley and Sandy Bay.

Blake made a special trip to Sandy Bay on October 30 to bring back some geological specimens and other things he had left there, but on reaching the spot found that the old hut had been burned to the ground, apparently only a few hours before, since it was still smouldering. Many articles were destroyed, among which were two sleeping-bags, a sextant, gun, blankets, photographic plates, bird specimens and articles of clothing. It was presumed that rats had originated the fire from wax matches which had been left lying on a small shelf.

On November 9 we heard that the 'Aurora' would leave Hobart on the 19th for Antarctica, picking us up on the way and landing three men on the island to continue the wireless and meteorological work.

We sighted the 'Rachel Cohen' bearing down on the island on November 18, and at 5.15 P.M. she came to an anchorage in North-East Bay. She brought down the remainder of our coal and some salt for Hamilton for the preservation of specimens.

On the next night it was learned that the 'Aurora' had left Hobart on her way South, expecting to reach us about the 28th, as some sounding and dredging were being done en route.

Everybody now became very busy making preparations for departure. Time passed very quickly, and November 28 dawned fine and bright. The 'Rachel Cohen', which had been lying in the bay loading oil, had her full complement on board by 10 A.M., and shortly afterwards we trooped across to say good-bye to Bauer and the other sealers, who were all returning to Hobart. It was something of a coincidence that they took their departure on the very day our ship was to arrive. Their many acts of kindness towards us will ever be recalled by the members of the party, and we look upon our harmonious neighbourly association together with feelings of great pleasure.

A keen look-out was then kept for signs of our own ship, but it was not until 8 P.M. that Blake, who was up on the hill side, called out, "Here she comes," and we climbed up to take in the goodly sight. Just visible, away in the north-west, there was a line of thin smoke, and in about half an hour the 'Aurora' dropped anchor in Hasselborough Bay.



CHAPTER XXVIII THE HOMEWARD CRUISE

We bring no store of ingots, Of spice or precious stones; But what we have we gathered With sweat and aching bones. KIPLING.

As we sat in the wardroom of the 'Aurora' exchanging the news of months long gone by, we heard from Captain Davis the story of his fair-weather trip from Hobart. The ship had left Australian waters on November 19, and, from the outset, the weather was quite ideal. Nothing of note occurred on the run to Macquarie Island, where a party of three men were landed and Ainsworth and his loyal comrades picked up. The former party, sent by the Australian Government, were to maintain wireless communication with Hobart and to send meteorological reports to the Commonwealth Weather Bureau. A week was spent at the island and all the collections were embarked, while Correll was enabled to secure some good colour photographs and Hurley to make valuable additions to his cinematograph film.

The 'Aurora' had passed through the "fifties" without meeting the usual gales, sighting the first ice in latitude 63 degrees 33' S., longitude 150 degrees 29' E. She stopped to take a sounding every twenty-four hours, adding to the large number already accumulated during her cruises over the vast basin of the Southern Ocean.

All spoke of the clear and beautiful days amid the floating ice and of the wonderful coloured sunsets; especially the photographers. The pack was so loosely disposed, that the ship made a straight course for Commonwealth Bay, steaming up to Cape Denison on the morning of December 14 to find us all eager to renew our claim on the big world up North.

There was a twenty-five-knot wind and a small sea when we pulled off in the whale-boat to the ship, but, as if conspiring to give us for once a gala-day, the wind fell off, the bay became blue and placid and the sun beat down in full thawing strength on the boundless ice and snow. The Adelians, if that may be used as a distinctive title, sat on the warm deck and read letters and papers in voracious haste, with snatches of the latest intelligence from the Macquarie Islanders and the ship's officers. No one could erase that day from the tablets of his memory.

Late in the afternoon the motor-launch went ashore, and the first of the cargo was sent off. The weather remained serene and calm, and for the next six days, with the exception of a "sixty-miler" for a few hours and a land breeze overnight, there was nothing to disturb the embarkation of our bulky impedimenta which almost filled the outer Hut. Other work went on apace. The skua gulls, snow and Wilson petrels were laying their eggs, and Hamilton went ashore to secure specimens and to add to our already considerable collection of bird skins. Hunter had a fish-trap lowered from the forecastle, used a hand dredge from the ship, and did tow-netting occasionally from the launch in its journeys to and from the land. Hurley and Correll had bright sunshine to ensure good photographic results. Bage and Hodgeman looked after the transport of stores from the Hut, and Gillies, Bickerton and Madigan ran the motor-launch. McLean, who was now in possession of an incubator and culture tubes, grew bacteria from various sources—seals and birds, soils, ice and snow. Ainsworth, Blake and Sandell, making their first acquaintance with Adelie Land, were most often to be seen quarrying ice on the glacier or pulling loaded sledges down to the harbour.

[TEXT ILLUSTRATION]

Mackellar Islets

On the 18th a party of us went off to the Mackellar Islets in the motor-launch, taking a tent and provisions, intending to spend two days there surveying and making scientific observations.

These islets, over thirty in number, are clustered mainly in a group about two miles off shore. The group is encircled by rocky "outposts," and there are several "links" to the southern mainland. Under a brilliant sun, across the pale blue water, heaving in a slow northerly swell, the motor-launch threaded her way between the granite knobs, capped with solid spray. The waves had undermined the white canopies so that they stood immobile, perched on the dark, kelp-fringed rocks, casting their pallid reflections in the turquoise sea. Steaming into a natural harbour, bordered by a low ice-foot on which scores of Weddell seals lay in listless slumber, we landed on the largest islet—a succession of salt-encrusted ridges covered by straggling penguin rookeries. The place just teemed with the sporadic life of an Antarctic summer.

It was calculated that the Adelie penguins exceeded one hundred and fifty thousand in number over an area of approximately one hundred acres. Near the landing-place there were at least sixty seals and snow petrels; skua gulls and Wilson petrels soon betrayed their nests to the biologists.

The islets are flat, and afford evidence that at one time the continental ice-cap has ridden over them. The rock is a hard grey gneiss. A rough plane-table map of the group was made by Hodgeman and myself.

Our scheme of local exploration was now continued to the west. For two years we had looked curiously at a patch of rocks protruding beneath the ice-cap eight miles away, within Commonwealth Bay. It had been inaccessible to sledging parties, and so we reserved Cape Hunter, as it was ultimately called, for the coming of the Ship.

The anchor was raised on the forenoon of the 22nd, and by midday the 'Aurora' steamed at half-speed along the ramparts of the glacier, stopping about four miles from the Cape, after sounding in four hundred and twenty-four fathoms. Through field-glasses much had already been seen; enough to arouse an intense interest.

One could not but respond to the idea that here was a new world, flawless and unblemished, into which no human being had ever pried. Here were open secrets to be read for the first time. It was not with the cold eye of science alone that we gazed at these rocks—a tiny spur of the great unseen continent; but it was with an indefinable wonder.

In perfect weather a small party set off in the launch towards a large grounded berg which appeared to lie under the ice-cliffs. Approaching it closely, after covering two miles, we could see that it was still more than a mile to the rocks.

Penguins soon began to splash around; Wilson petrels came glancing overhead and we could descry great flocks of Antarctic petrels wheeling over cliff and sea. Reefs buried in frothing surge showed their glistening mantles, and the boat swerved to avoid floating streamers of brash-ice.

The rocky cliffs, about eighty feet in height at the highest point, were formed of vertically lying slate rocks—a very uniform series of phyllite and sericite-schist. At their base lay great clinging blocks of ice deeply excavated by the restless swell. One island was separated from the parent mass by a channel cut sheer to the deep blue water. Behind the main rocks and indenting the ice-cliff was a curving bay into which we steered, finding at its head a beautiful cove fringed with a heavy undermined ice-foot and swarming with Adelie penguins. Overhanging the water was a cavern hollowed out of a bridge of ice thrown from the glacier to the western limit of the rock outcrop.

Hurley had before him a picture in perfect proportion. The steel-blue water, paled by an icy reflection, a margin of brown rocks on which the penguins leapt through the splashing surf, a curving canopy of ice-foot and, filling the background, the cavern with pendent icicles along its cornice.

The swell was so great that an anchor had to be thrown from the stern to keep the launch off shore, and two men remained on board to see that no damage was done.

At last we were free to roam and explore. Over the first ridge of rocks we walked suddenly into the home of the Antarctic petrels! There had always been much speculation as to where these birds nested. Jones' party at our western base had the previous summer at Haswell Island happened upon the first rookery of Antarctic petrels ever discovered. Here was another spot in the great wilderness peopled by their thousands. Every available nook and crevice was occupied along a wide slope which shelved away until it met the vertical cliffs falling to the ocean. One could sit down among the soft, mild birds who were fearless at the approach of man. They rested in pairs close to their eggs laid on the bare rock or among fragments of slate loosely arranged to resemble a rest. Many eggs were collected, and the birds, losing confidence in us, rose into the air in flocks, gaining in feathered volume as they circled in fear above this domain of rock and snow which had been theirs for generations.

In adjoining rookeries the Adelie penguins, with their fat, downy cheeks, were very plentiful and fiercer than usual. Skuas, snow and Wilson petrels were all in their accustomed haunts. Down on the low ice-foot at the mouth of a rocky ravine, a few seals had effected a landing. Algae, mosses and lichens made quite a display in moist localities.

Before leaving for the ship, we "boiled the billy" on a platform of slate near the cove where the launch was anchored and had a small picnic, entertained by the penguins playing about in the surf or scaling the ice-foot to join the birds which were laboriously climbing to the rookeries on the ridge. The afternoon was so peaceful and the calm hot weather such a novelty to us that we pushed off reluctantly to the 'Aurora' after an eventful day.

Those on board had had a busy time dredging, and their results were just as successful as ours. A haul was made in two hundred and fifty fathoms of ascidians, sponges, crinoids, holothurians, fish and other forms of life in such quantity that Hunter and Hamilton were occupied in sorting the specimens until five o'clock next morning. Meanwhile the 'Aurora' had returned to her old anchorage close to Cape Denison.

The sky banked up from the south with nimbus, and early on the 23rd a strong breeze ruffled the water. There were a few things to be brought off from the shore, while Ainsworth, Sandell and Correll were still at the Hut, so that, as the weather conditions pointed to a coming blizzard, I decided to "cut the painter" with the land.

An hour later the motor-launch, with Madigan and Bickerton, sped away for the last load through falling snow and a rising sea. Hodgeman had battened down the windows of the Hut, the chimney was stuffed with bagging, the veranda-entrance closed with boards, and, inside, an invitation was left for future visitors to occupy and make themselves at home. After the remainder of the dogs and some miscellaneous gear had been shipped, the launch put off and came alongside in a squally wind through thick showers of snow. Willing hands soon unloaded the boat and slung it in the davits. Every one was at last safe on board, and in future all our operations were to be conducted from the ship.

During the night the wind rose and the barometer fell, while the air was filled with drifting snow. On the 24th—Christmas Eve—the velocity of the wind gradually increased to the seventies until at noon it blew with the strength of a hurricane. Chief Officer Blair, stationed with a few men under the fo'c'sle-head, kept an anxious eye on the anchor chain and windlass.

About lunch time the anchor was found to be dragging and we commenced to drift before the hurricane. All view of the land and lurking dangers in the form of reefs and islets were cut off by driving snow.

The wind twanged the rigging to a burring drone that rose to a shriek in the shuddering gusts. The crests of the waves were cut off and sprayed in fine spindrift. With full steam on we felt our way out, we hoped to the open sea; meanwhile the chain cable and damaged anchor were slowly being hauled in. The ship's chances looked very small indeed, but, owing to the good seamanship of Captain Davis and a certain amount of luck, disaster was averted. Soon we were in a bounding sea. Each time we were lifted on a huge roller the motor-launch, swinging in the davits, would rise and then descend with a crash on the water, to be violently bumped against the bulwarks. Everything possible was done to save the launch, but our efforts proved fruitless. As it was being converted into a battering ram against the ship itself it had to be cut away, and was soon swept astern and we saw no more of it.

Most unexpectedly there came a lull in the wind, so that it was almost calm, though the ship still laboured in the seas. A clearance in the atmosphere was also noticeable for Cape Hunter became discernible to the west, towards which we were rapidly drifting. This sight of the coast was a great satisfaction to us, for we then knew our approximate position ** and the direction of the wind, which had veered considerably.

** It should be borne in mind that compasses are unreliable in the vicinity of the magnetic pole.

The lull lasted scarcely five minutes when the wind came back from a somewhat different quarter, north of east, as violent as ever. The "eye" of the storm had passed over us, and the gale continued steady for several days. That night the struggle with the elements was kept up by officers and crew, assisted by members of the shore party who took the lee-wheel or stood by in case of emergency.

"December 25. Christmas Day on the high seas off Adelie Land, everything wet and fairly miserable; incipient mal de mer, wind 55-60; snowing! When Davis came down to breakfast and wished us a Merry Christmas, with a smile at the irony of it, the ward-room was swaying about in a most bewildering fashion."

Towards evening, after the 'Aurora' had battled for hours slowly to the east, the sea went down somewhat and some drifting ice was sighted. We continued under full steam, pushing forward to gain the shelter of the Mertz glacier-tongue. It was now discovered that the fluke of the anchor had broken off short, so great had been the strain imposed upon it during the height of the hurricane.

On Boxing Day the ship was in calmer water heading in a more southerly direction so as to come up with the land. Fog, fine snow and an overcast sky made a gloomy combination, but during the afternoon the fog lightened sufficiently for us to perceive the mainland—a ghostly cliff shrouded in diaphanous blink. By 10 P.M. the Mertz glacier was visible on the port bow, and to starboard there was an enormous tilted berg which appeared to be magnified in the dim light.

Allowing a day for the weather to become clearer and more settled, we got out the trawl on the 28th and did a dredging in three hundred fathoms close to the glacier-tongue. Besides rocks and mud there were abundant crinoids, holothurians, corals, crustaceans and "shells." In addition, several pieces of fossilized wood and coaly matter were discovered scattered through the "catch."

Bage, under Davis's direction, took temperatures and collected water samples at fifty, seventy-five, one hundred, two hundred and three hundred fathoms, using the Lucas sounding-machine on the fo'c'sle. The temperature gradient from the surface downwards appeared to give some indication of the depth of ice submerged in the glacier-tongue alongside which we were lying.

On the 29th a cold south-easter blew off the ice-cliffs and the sun was trying to pierce a gauzy alto-stratus. The 'Aurora' steamed north-east, it being our intention to round the northern limit of the Mertz Glacier. Gradually a distant line of pack, which had been visible for some time, closed in and the ship ran into a cul-de-sac. Gray, who was up in the crow's-nest, reported that the ice was very heavy, so we put about.

Proceeding southward once more, we glided along within a stone's throw of the great wall of ice whose chiselled headlands stood in profile for miles. There was leisure to observe various features of this great formation, and to make some valuable photographic records when the low south-western sun emerged into a wide rift. Hunter trailed the tow-net for surface plankton while the ship was going at half-speed.

At ten o'clock the ship had come up with the land, and her course was turned sharply to the north-west towards a flotilla of bergs lying to the east of the Way Archipelago, which we intended to visit.

On December 30, 1913, the 'Aurora' lay within a cordon of floating ice about one mile distant from the nearest islet of a group scattered along the coast off Cape Gray.

Immediately after breakfast a party of eight men set off in the launch to investigate Stillwell Island. The weather was gloriously sunny and every one was eager at the prospect of fresh discoveries. Cape Hunter had been the home of the Antarctic petrels, and on this occasion we were singularly fortunate in finding a resort of the Southern Fulmar or silver-grey petrels. During the previous summer, two of the eastern sledging parties had for the first time observed the breeding habits of these birds among isolated rocks outcropping on the edge of the coast. But here there was a stronghold of hundreds of petrels, sitting with their eggs in niches among the boulders or ensconced in bowers excavated beneath the snow which lay deep over some parts of the island.

The rock was a gneiss which varied in character from that which had been examined at Cape Denison and in other localities. All the scientific treasures were exhausted by midday, and the whale-boat was well laden when we rowed back to the ship.

Throughout a warm summer afternoon the 'Aurora' threaded her way between majestic bergs and steamed west across the wide span of Commonwealth Bay, some fifteen miles off the land. At eleven o'clock the sky was perfectly clear and the sun hung like a luminous ball over the southern plateau. The rocks near the Hut were just visible. Close to the "Pianoforte Berg" and the Mackellar Islets tall jets of fine spray were seen to shoot upward from schools of finner whales. All around us and for miles shoreward, the ocean was calm and blue; but close to the mainland there was a dark curving line of ruffled water, while through glasses one could see trails of serpentine drift flowing down the slopes of the glacier. Doubtless, it was blowing at the Hut; and the thought was enough to make us thankful that we were on our good ship leaving Adelie Land for ever.

On the morning of December 31, 1913, Cape Alden was abeam, and a strong wind swept down from the highlands. Bordering the coast there was a linear group of islets and outcropping rocks at which we had hoped to touch. The wind continued to blow so hard that the idea was abandoned and our course was directed towards the north-west to clear a submerged reef which had been discovered in January 1912.

The wind and sea arose during the night, causing the ship to roll in a reckless fashion. Yet the celebration of New Year's Eve was not marred, and lusty choruses came up from the ward-room till long after midnight. Next morning at breakfast our ranks had noticeably thinned through the liveliness of the ship, but it is wonderful how large an assembly we mustered for the New Year's dinner, and how cheerfully the toast was drunk to "The best year we have ever had!"

On January 2, 1914, fast ice and the mainland were sighted. The course was changed to the south-west so as to bring the ship within a girdle of loose ice disposed in big solid chunks and small pinnacled floes. A sounding realized two hundred fathoms some ten miles off the coast, which stretched like a lofty bank of yellow sand along the southern horizon. On previous occasions we had not been able to see so much of the coastline in this longitude owing to the compactness of the ice, and so we were able to definitely chart a longer tract at the western limit of Adelie Land.

The ice became so thick and heavy as the 'Aurora' pressed southward that she was forced at last to put about and steer for more open water. On the way, a sounding was made in two hundred and fifty fathoms, but a dredging was unsuccessful owing to the fact that insufficient cable was paid out in going from two hundred and fifty fathoms to deeper water.

Our north-westerly course ran among a great number of very long tabular bergs, which suggested the possibility of a neighbouring glacier-tongue as their origin.

At ten o'clock on the evening of the 2nd, a mountain of ice with a high encircling bastion passed to starboard. It rose to a peak, flanked by fragments toppling in snowy ruin. The pyramidal summit was tinged the palest lilac in the waning light; the mighty pallid walls were streaked and blotched with deep azure; the green swell sucked and thundered in the wave-worn caverns. Chaste snow-birds swam through the pure air, and the whole scene was sacred.

A tropical day in the pack-ice! Sunday January 4 was clear and perfectly still, and the sun shone powerfully. On the previous day we had entered a wide field of ice which had become so close and heavy that the ship took till late in the evening to reach its northern fringe.

From January 5 onwards for two weeks we steamed steadily towards the west, repeatedly changing course to double great sheets of pack which streamed away to the north, pushing through them in other places where the welcome "water-sky showed strong" ahead, making "southing" for days following the trend of the ice, then grappling with it in the hope of winning through to the land and at last returning to the western track along the margin of brash which breaks the first swell of the Southern Ocean.

The weather was mostly overcast with random showers of light snow and mild variable winds on all but two days, when there was a "blow" of forty miles per hour and a considerable sea in which the ship seemed more active than usual.

Many soundings were taken, and their value lay in broadly [...] Of course, too, we were supplementing the ship's previous work in these latitudes.

[TEXT ILLUSTRATION]

Section Illustrating The Moat In The Antarctic Continental Shelf

One successful dredging in eighteen hundred fathoms brought up some large erratics and coaly matter, besides a great variety of animal life. It was instructive to find that the erratics were coated with a film of manganese oxide derived from the sea-water. Several tow-nettings were taken with large nets automatically closing at any desired depth through the medium of a "messenger." Small crustaceans were plentiful on the surface, but they were if anything more numerous at depths of fifty to one hundred fathoms. Amongst the latter were some strongly phosphorescent forms. The flying birds were "logged" daily by the biologists. Emperor and Adelie penguins were occasionally seen, among the floes as well as sea-leopards, crab-eater and Weddell seals.

Friday January 16 deserves mention as being a day full of incident. In the morning a thin, cold fog hung along the pack whose edge determined our course. Many petrels flew around, and on the brash-ice there were dark swarms of terns—small birds with black-capped heads, dove-grey backs and silvery-white breasts. They were very nervous of the ship, rising in great numbers when it had approached within a few hundred yards. One startled bird would fly up, followed by several more; then a whole covey would disturb the rest of the flock. Hamilton managed to shoot two of them from the fo'c'sle, and, after much manoeuvring, we secured one with a long hand-net.

Soon after, there was a cry of "killer whales!" from the stern. Schools of them were travelling from the west to the east along the edge of the pack. The water was calm and leaden, and every few seconds a big black triangular fin would project from the surface, there would be a momentary glimpse of a dark yellow-blotched back and then all would disappear.

We pushed into the pack to "ice ship," as the water-supply was running low. Just as the 'Aurora' was leaving the open water, a school of finner whales went by, blowing high jets of spray in sudden blasts, wallowing for a few seconds on the surface, and diving in swirls of foam. These finners or rorquals are enormous mammals, and on one occasion we were followed by one for several hours. It swam along with the ship, diving regularly underneath from one side to another, and we wondered what would happen if it had chosen to charge the vessel or to investigate the propeller.

Close to a big floe to which the ship was secured, two crab-eater seals were shot and hauled aboard to be skinned and investigated by the biologists and bacteriologist. When the scientists had finished their work, the meat and blubber were cut up for the dogs, while the choicer steaks were taken to the cook's galley.

After lunch every one started to "ice ship" in earnest. The sky had cleared and the sun was warm and brilliant by the time a party had landed on the snow-covered floe with baskets, picks and shovels. When the baskets had been filled, they were hoisted by hand-power on to a derrick which had been fixed to the mizen mast, swung inboard and then shovelled into a melting tank alongside the engine-room. The melter was a small tank through which ran a coil of steam pipes. The ice came up in such quantity that it was not melted in time to keep up with the demand, so a large heap was made on the deck.

Later in the afternoon it was found that holes chipped in the sea-ice to a depth of six or eight inches filled quickly with fresh water, and soon a gang of men had started a service with buckets and dippers between these pools and the main hatch where the water was poured through funnels into the ship's tanks. The bulwarks on the port side of the main hatch had been taken down, and a long plank stretched across to the floe. At nine o'clock work was stopped and we once more resumed our western cruise.

It was found that as the region of Queen Mary Land approached, heavy pack extended to the north. While skirting this obstacle, we disclosed by soundings a steep rise in the ocean's floor from a depth of about fifteen hundred fathoms to within seven hundred fathoms of the surface, south of which there was deep water. It was named "Bruce Rise" in recognition of the oceanographical work of the Scottish Expedition in Antarctic seas.

On the 17th, in latitude 62 degrees 21' S., longitude 95 degrees 9' E., the course ran due south for more than seven hours. For the two ensuing days the ship was able to steer approximately south-west through slackening ice, until on the 19th at midday we were in latitude 64 degrees 59' S., longitude 90 degrees 8' E. At length it appeared that land was approaching, after a westward run of more than twelve hundred miles. Attempts to reach the charted position of Totten's Land, North's Land, Budd Land and Knox Land had been successively abandoned when it became evident that the pack occupied a more northerly situation than that of the two previous years, and was in most instances thick and impenetrable.

At 10 P.M. on the 19th, the ice fields still remaining loose and navigable, a dark line of open water was observed ahead. From the crow's-nest it was seen to the south stretching east and west within the belt of pack-ice—the Davis Sea. We had broken through the pack less than twenty-five miles north of where the 'Gauss' (German Expedition, 1902) had wintered.

All next day the 'Aurora' steamed into the eye of an easterly wind towards a low white island, the higher positions of which had been seen by the German Expedition of 1902, and charted as Drygalski's High Land. Dr. Jones' party had, the year before, obtained a distant view of it and regarded it as an island, which proved to be correct, so we named it Drygalski Island. To the south there was the dim outline of the mainland. Soundings varied between two hundred and three hundred fathoms.

On January 21, Drygalski Island was close at hand, and a series of soundings which showed from sixty to seventy fathoms of water deepening towards the mainland proved beyond doubt that it was an island. In shape it is like a flattened dome about nine miles in diameter and twelve hundred feet in height, bounded by perpendicular cliffs of ice, and with no visible evidence of outcropping rock.

The dredge was lowered in sixty fathoms, and a rich assortment of life was captured for the biologists—Hunter and Hamilton. A course was then made to the south amidst a sea of great bergs; the water deepening to about four hundred fathoms.

During the evening the crevassed slopes of the mainland rose clear to the south, and many islets were observed near the coast, frozen in a wide expanse of bay-ice. Haswell Island, visited by Jones, Dovers and Hoadley of the Western Party, was sighted, and the ship was able to approach within eight miles of it; at ten o'clock coming up to flat bay-ice, where she anchored for the night. Before we retired to bunk, a Ross seal was discovered and shot, three-quarters of a mile away.

Next day, January 22, an unexpected find was made of five more of this rare species of seal. Many Emperor penguins were also secured. It would have been interesting to visit the great rookery of Emperor penguins on Haswell Island, but, as the ship could only approach to within eight miles of it, I did not think it advisable to allow a party to go so far.

On the night of the 22nd, the 'Aurora' was headed northeast for the Shackleton Ice-Shelf. In the early hours of the 28rd a strong gale sprang up and rapidly increased in violence. A pall of nimbus overspread the sky, and blinding snow commenced to fall.

We had become used to blizzards, but on this occasion several factors made us somewhat apprehensive. The ship was at least twenty-five miles from shelter on an open sea, littered with bergs and fragments of ice. The wind was very strong; the maximum velocity exceeding seventy miles per hour, and the dense driving snow during the midnight hours of semi-darkness reduced our chances of navigating with any certainty.

The night of the 23rd had a touch of terror. The wind was so powerful that, with a full head of steam and steering a few points off the eye of the wind, the ship could just hold her own. But when heavy gusts swooped down and the propeller raced on the crest of a mountainous wave, Davis found it impossible to keep steerage-way.

Drift and spray lash the faces of officer and helmsman, and through the grey gloom misty bergs glide by on either hand. A long slow struggle brings us to a passage between two huge masses of ice. There is a shock as the vessel bumps and grinds along a great wall. The engine stops, starts again, and stops once more. The yards on the foremast are swung into the wind, the giant seas are broken by the stolid barriers of ice, the engine commences to throb with its old rhythm, and the ship slowly creeps out to meet the next peril. It comes with the onset of a "bergy-bit" which smashes the martingale as it plunges into a deep trough. The chain stay parts, dragging loose in the water, while a great strain is put by the foremast on the bowsprit.

Early on the 24th the ship was put about and ran with the wind, while all hands assembled on the fo'c'sle. The crew, under the direction of Blair, had the ticklish job of replacing the chain stay by two heavy blocks, the lower of which was hooked on to the lug which secured the end of the stay, and the upper to the bowsprit. The running ropes connecting the blocks were tightened up by winding the hauling line round the capstan. When the boatswain and two sailors had finished the wet and chilly task of getting the tackle into position, the rest put their weight on to the capstan bars and the strain on the bowsprit was relieved. The fo'c'sle, plunging and swaying in the great waves, was encased in frozen spray, and along all the ropes and stays were continuous cylinders of ice. The 'Aurora' then resumed her easterly course against the blizzard.

Saturday January 24 was a day of high wind, rough seas, watery decks, lively meals and general discomfort. At 11.30 P.M. the waves had perceptibly decreased, and it was surmised that we were approaching the berg, about thirty miles in length, which lay to the west of the Shackleton Ice-Shelf.

At 6 A.M. on the 25th the sun managed to glimmer through the low rack flying from the east, lighting up the carven face of an ice-cliff along which the 'Aurora' was coasting. Up and down we steamed until the afternoon of the 26th, when the wind lulled away to nothing, and the grey, even pall of cloud rose and broke into fleecy alto-cumulus.