incidents, had come as she silently up-ended to find a last resting-place beneath the ice on which we now stand.  When one knows every little nook and corner of one’s ship as we did, and has helped her time and again in the fight that she made so well, the actual parting was not without its pathos, quite apart from one’s own desolation, and I doubt if there was one amongst us who did not feel some personal emotion when Sir Ernest, standing on the top of the look-out, said somewhat sadly and quietly, ‘She’s gone, boys.’

“It must, however, be said that we did not give way to depression for long, for soon every one was as cheery as usual.  Laughter rang out from the tents, and even the Boss had a passage-at-arms with the storekeeper over the inadequacy of the sausage ration, insisting that there should be two each ‘because they were such little ones,’ instead of the one and a half that the latter proposed.”

The psychological effect of a slight increase in the rations soon neutralized any tendency to downheartedness, but with the high temperatures surface-thaw set in, and our bags and clothes were soaked and sodden.  Our boots squelched as we walked, and we lived in a state of perpetual wet feet.  At nights, before the temperature had fallen, clouds of steam could be seen rising from our soaking bags and boots.  During the night, as it grew colder, this all condensed as rime on the inside of the tent, and showered down upon us if one happened to touch the side inadvertently.  One had to be careful how one walked, too, as often only a thin crust of ice and snow covered a hole in the floe, through which many an unwary member went in up to his waist.  These perpetual soakings, however, seemed to have had little lasting effect, or perhaps it was not apparent owing to the excitement of the prospect of an early release.

A north-westerly wind on December 7 and 8 retarded our progress somewhat, but I had reason to believe that it would help to open the ice and form leads through which we might escape to open water.  So I ordered a practice launching of the boats and stowage of food and stores in them.  This was very satisfactory.  We cut a slipway from our floe into a lead which ran alongside, and the boats took the water “like a bird,” as one sailor remarked.  Our hopes were high in anticipation of an early release.  A blizzard sprang up, increasing the next day and burying tents and packing-cases in the drift.  On December 12 it had moderated somewhat and veered to the south-east, and the next day the blizzard had ceased, but a good steady wind from south and south-west continued to blow us north.

“December 15, 1915.—­The continuance of southerly winds is exceeding our best hopes, and raising our spirits in proportion.  Prospects could not be brighter than they are just now.  The environs of our floe are continually changing.  Some days we are almost surrounded by small open leads, preventing us from crossing over to the adjacent floes.”