to the south-east.  Our way was blocked by very heavy pack, and after spending two hours in a vain search for an opening, we moored the ‘Endurance’ to a floe and banked fires.  During that day we passed two schools of seals, swimming fast to the north-west and north-north-east.  The animals swam in close order, rising and blowing like porpoises, and we wondered if there was any significance in their journey northward at that time of the year.  Several young emperor penguins had been captured and brought aboard on the previous day.  Two of them were still alive when the ‘Endurance’ was brought alongside the floe.  They promptly hopped on to the ice, turned round, bowed gracefully three times, and retired to the far side of the floe.  There is something curiously human about the manners and movements of these birds.  I was concerned about the dogs.  They were losing condition and some of them appeared to be ailing.  One dog had to be shot on the 12th.  We did not move the ship on the 14th.  A breeze came from the east in the evening, and under its influence the pack began to work off shore.  Before midnight the close ice that had barred our way had opened and left a lane along the foot of the barrier.  I decided to wait for the morning, not wishing to risk getting caught between the barrier and the pack in the event of the wind changing.  A sounding gave 1357 fathoms, with a bottom of glacial mud.  The noon observation showed the position to be lat. 74° 09´ S., long. 27° 16´ W. We cast off at 6 a.m. on the 15th in hazy weather with a north-easterly breeze, and proceeded along the barrier in open water.  The course was south-east for sixteen miles, then south-south-east.  We now had solid pack to windward, and at 3 p.m. we passed a bight probably ten miles deep and running to the north-east.  A similar bight appeared at 6 p.m.  These deep cuts strengthened the impression we had already formed that for several days we had been rounding a great mass of ice, at least fifty miles across, stretching out from the coast and possibly destined to float away at some time in the future.  The soundings—­roughly, 200 fathoms at the landward side and 1300 fathoms at the seaward side—­suggested that this mighty projection was afloat.  Seals were plentiful.  We saw large numbers on the pack and several on low parts of the barrier, where the slope was easy.  The ship passed through large schools of seals swimming from the barrier to the pack off shore.  The animals were splashing and blowing around the ‘Endurance’, and Hurley made a record of this unusual sight with the kinematograph-camera.

The barrier now stretched to the south-west again.  Sail was set to a fresh easterly breeze, but at 7 p.m. it had to be furled, the ‘Endurance’ being held up by pack-ice against the barrier for an hour.  We took advantage of the pause to sound and got 268 fathoms with glacial mud and pebbles.  Then a small lane appeared ahead.  We pushed through at full speed, and by 8.30 p.m. the ‘Endurance’ was moving southward with sails set in a fine expanse of open water.  We continued to skirt the barrier in clear weather.  I was watching for possible landing-places, though as a matter of fact I had no intention of landing north of Vahsel Bay, in Luitpold Land, except under pressure of necessity.  Every mile gained towards the south meant a mile less sledging when the time came for the overland journey.