It was my night on duty last night and I watched the oncoming of a blizzard with exceptional beginnings.  The sky became very gradually overcast between 1 and 4 A.M.  About 2.30 the temperature rose on a steep grade from -20 deg. to -3 deg.; the barometer was falling, rapidly for these regions.  Soon after 4 the wind came with a rush, but without snow or drift.  For a time it was more gusty than has ever yet been recorded even in this region.  In one gust the wind rose from 4 to 68 m.p.h. and fell again to 20 m.p.h. within a minute; another reached 80 m.p.h., but not from such a low point of origin.  The effect in the hut was curious; for a space all would be quiet, then a shattering blast would descend with a clatter and rattle past ventilator and chimneys, so sudden, so threatening, that it was comforting to remember the solid structure of our building.  The suction of such a gust is so heavy that even the heavy snow-covered roof of the stable, completely sheltered on the lee side of the main building, is violently shaken—­one could well imagine the plight of our adventurers at C. Crozier when their roof was destroyed.  The snow which came at 6 lessened the gustiness and brought the ordinary phenomena of a blizzard.  It is blowing hard to-day, with broken windy clouds and roving bodies of drift.  A wild day for the return of the sun.  Had it been fine to-day we should have seen the sun for the first time; yesterday it shone on the lower foothills to the west, but to-day we see nothing but gilded drift clouds.  Yet it is grand to have daylight rushing at one.

Wednesday, August 23.—­We toasted the sun in champagne last night, coupling Victor Campbell’s name as his birthday coincides.  The return of the sun could not be appreciated as we have not had a glimpse of it, and the taste of the champagne went wholly unappreciated; it was a very mild revel.  Meanwhile the gale continues.  Its full force broke last night with an average of nearly 70 m.p.h. for some hours:  the temperature has been up to 10 deg. and the snowfall heavy.  At seven this morning the air was thicker with whirling drift than it has ever been.

It seems as though the violence of the storms which succeed our rare spells of fine weather is in proportion to the duration of the spells.

Thursday, August 24.—­Another night and day of furious wind and drift, and still no sign of the end.  The temperature has been as high as 16 deg..  Now and again the snow ceases and then the drift rapidly diminishes, but such an interval is soon followed by fresh clouds of snow.  It is quite warm outside, one can go about with head uncovered—­which leads me to suppose that one does get hardened to cold to some extent—­for I suppose one would not wish to remain uncovered in a storm in England if the temperature showed 16 degrees of frost.  This is the third day of confinement to the hut:  it grows tedious, but there is no help, as it is too thick to see more than a few yards out of doors.