The 4th of November being the last day that the sun would, independently of the effects of refraction, be seen above our horizon till the 8th of February, an interval of ninety-six days, it was a matter of considerable regret to us that the weather about this time was not sufficiently clear to allow us to see and make observations on the disappearance of that luminary, in order that something might be attempted towards determining the amount of the atmospheric refraction at a low temperature.  But though we were not permitted to take a last farewell, for at least three months, of that cheering orb, “of this great world both eye and soul,” we nevertheless felt that this day constituted an important and memorable epoch in our voyage.  We had some time before set about the preparations for our winter’s amusements; and the theatre being ready, we opened on the 5th November, with the representation of Miss in her Teens, which afforded to the men such a fund of amusement as fully to justify the expectations we had formed of the utility of theatrical entertainments under our present circumstances, and to determine me to follow them up at stated periods.  I found, indeed, that even the occupation of fitting up the theatre and taking it to pieces again, which employed a number of the men for a day or two before and after each performance, was a matter of no little importance, when the immediate duties of the ship appeared by no means sufficient for that purpose; for I dreaded the want of employment as one of the worst evils that was likely to befall us.

About the time of the sun’s leaving us, the wolves began to approach the ships more boldly, howling most piteously on the beach near us, sometimes for hours together, and on one or two occasions coming alongside the ships, when everything was quiet at night; but we seldom saw more than one or two together, and therefore could form no idea of their number.  These animals were always very shy of coming near our people; and though evidently suffering much from hunger, never attempted to attack any of them.  The white foxes used also to visit the ships at night, and one of these was caught in a trap set under the Griper’s bows.  The uneasiness displayed by this beautiful little animal during the time of his confinement, whenever he heard the howling of a wolf near the ships, impressed us with the opinion that the latter is in the habit of hunting the fox as his prey.

The temperature of the atmosphere having about this time become considerably lower than before, the cracking of the timbers was very frequent and loud for a time; but generally ceased altogether in an hour or two after this fall had taken place in the thermometer, and did not occur again at the same temperature during the winter.  The wind blowing fresh from the northward, with a heavy snowdrift, made the ship very cold below; so that the breath and other vapour accumulated during the night in the bed places and upon the beams, and