392 THE END OF THE WINTER 



of ten days. She had been let loose sixty-eight miles 

 from Framheim on the last trip. When she came in, 

 she was as fat as ever; probably she had been feasting 

 in her solitude on one of her comrades. She was 

 received with great ovations by her many admirers. 



On September 29 a still more certain sign of spring 

 appeared a flight of Antarctic petrels. They came 

 flying up to us to bring the news that now spring had 

 come this time in earnest. We were delighted to see 

 these fine, swift birds again. They flew round the 

 house several times to see whether we were all there 

 still; and we were not long in going out to receive 

 them. It was amusing to watch the dogs: at first the 

 birds flew pretty near the ground; when the dogs 

 caught sight of them, they rushed out the whole lot of 

 them to catch them. They tore along, scouring the 

 ground, and, of course, all wanted to be first. Then the 

 birds suddenly rose into the air, and presently the dogs 

 lost sight of them. They stood still for a moment, 

 glaring at each other, evidently uncertain of what was 

 the best thing to do. Such uncertainty does not, as a 

 rule, last long. They made up their minds with all 

 desirable promptitude and flew at each other's throats. 



So now spring had really arrived; we had only to 

 cure the frost-bitten heels and then away. 



i 



END OF VOL. I. 



