rijST xuniT-A rira;mjs. 159 



about three pairs of stockings to change ; though in this 

 damp wcatlier they dry badly, and often enough we can 

 only wring them and i)ut them on again stone cohl as they 

 {ire. We have borne it well up to this time, but I fear 

 for the consequences. The temperature is seldom below 

 32° Fahr. 



The 27th was Konrad's birthday. To raise their spirits 

 somewliat, I gave my men a glass of sherry — a festive 

 luxury in our poverty, as our whole store consisted of one 

 bottle of sherry and one of rum. That we might sit dry, 

 we borrowed the oilskin coats from the " Hope," and 

 hung them up under our sail, which is very thin and lets 

 the rain through, so that we are much better off. The 

 carpenter, thank God, is recovered from his scurvy. Our 

 neighbour, the iceberg, has also changed its form. In 

 tlie night one side of it fell with a thundering crash. When 

 all is quiet, we can hear from the land the splitting 

 of the perpendicular walls. The nights are light; real 

 darkness we have none, and the twilight, which breaks 

 about twelve, resembles that of our own summer evenings 

 at half-past nine. Water for cooking and drinking wo 

 find plentifully on the floe after the rain, and this is 

 acceptable, as our brandy would soon come to an end if 

 we had to melt the snow. " To-day we have been on 

 our way with the boats twenty-one days, and to-day it is 

 ■exactly a year since I left home ; what may have hap- 

 pened there since then ? Will the next news be sad or 

 joyful ? What have we accomplished in this time ? 

 what endured ? When shall we again see our beloved 

 country ? We all naturally hope for a return." (I3ade's 

 day-book.) 



The work is getting more difficult. First the boats 



