[Illustration:  SEALS]

[Illustration:  SEALS]

[Illustration:  FROM THE SEA—­E.  A. Wilson, del.]

[Illustration:  FROM THE SEA—­E.  A. Wilson, del.]

Lighting was literally a burning question.  I do not know that any lamp was better than a tin matchbox fed with blubber, with strands of lamp wick sticking up in it, but all kinds of patterns big and small were made by proud inventors; they generally gave some light, though not a brilliant one.  There were more ambitious attempts than blubber.  The worst of these perhaps was produced by Oates.  Somebody found some carbide and Oates immediately schemed to light the hut with acetylene.  I think he was the only person who did not view the preparation with ill-concealed nervousness.  However, Wilson took the situation into his tactful hands.  For several days Oates and Wilson were deep in the acetylene plant scheme and then, apparently without reason, it was found that it could not be done.  It was a successful piece of strategy which no woman could have bettered.

Bowers, Wilson, Atkinson and I were on Crater Hill one morning when we espied a sledge party approaching from the direction of Castle Rock.  As we expected, this was the Geological party, consisting of Griffith Taylor, Wright, Debenham and Seaman Evans, home from the Western Mountains.  They entirely failed to recognize in our black faces the men whom they had last seen from the ship at Glacier Tongue.  I hope their story will be told by Debenham.  For days their doings were the topic of conversation.  Both numerically and intellectually they were an addition to our party, which now numbered sixteen.  Taylor especially is seldom at a loss for conversation and his remarks are generally original, if sometimes crude.  Most of us were glad to listen when the discussions in which he was a leading figure raged round the blubber stove.  Scott and Wilson were always in the thick of it, and the others chimed in as their interest, knowledge and experience led.  Rash statements on questions of fact were always dangerous, for our small community contained so many specialists that errors were soon exposed.  At the same time there were few parts of the world that one or other of us had not visited at least once.  Later, when we came to our own limited quarters, books of reference were constantly in demand to settle disputes.  Such books as the Times Atlas, a good encyclopaedia and even a Latin Dictionary are invaluable to such expeditions for this purpose.  To them I would add Who’s Who.

From odd corners we unearthed some Contemporary Reviews, the Girls’ Own Paper and the Family Herald, all of ten years ago!  We also found encased in ice an incomplete copy of Stanley Weyman’s My Lady Rotha; it was carefully thawed out and read by everybody, and the excitement was increased by the fact that the end of the book was missing.