A FROZEN SUMMER. 385 



meats, salt beef, salt pork, and bear meat have the 

 same taste at one tune as another. Each day has its 

 bill of fare, but after varying it every day for a week 

 we have, of course, to commence over again. Conse- 

 quently we have it by heart, and know what we are 

 going to eat before we sit down at table. Sometimes 

 the steward startles us with a potato salad (potatoes 

 now rotting too fast for our consumption), or a seal's 

 liver, or a bear's tongue ; but we generally are not dis- 

 turbed in that way. Our bill of fare is ample and good; 

 our water is absolutely pure, and our fresh bread is 

 something marvelous. Though disappointed day after 

 day we are cheerful and healthy, and — here we are. 



Everything looks unsettled about the weather to- 

 day. We have some squalls, a little rain, a little snow, 

 a little mist, plenty of water-sky, and, alas, plenty of 

 ice. The temperature ranges between 33° and 30°. 



June 22d, Tuesday. — As a finishing touch to our 

 cleaning house we to-day blacked down the rigging. 

 Mr. Newcomb shot and secured a beautiful Ross gull, 

 which from its rarity is quite a prize. This makes the 

 third of this species that he has secured, two last fall 

 and one to-day. 



June 23c/, Wednesday. — Ross gulls are by no means 

 rare with us, however rare they may be in other parts 

 of the world, for to-day Aneguin shot another one and 

 brought him in, making four in our collection. Our 

 bear meat beginning to run low, we have set to 

 work accumulating seals, not only for the dogs but for 

 our own possible food, and I am much pleased to find 

 that we have now twenty-seven on hand. Every day 

 hunting parties are out bringing in one or two. Thus 

 far we bury the seals in the snow to preserve them 

 from the heat(?) of the sun, which will, of course, last 

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