NOTES FROM AN ARCTIC JOURNAL. 57 
themselves with great rapidity. At this season the colour of the 
fur is greyish white, nearly pure white at the tips, but darkening 
to mouse-brown nearer the skin. 
On the 2nd March, after an absence of one hundred and 
forty-two days, the upper dise of the sun was visible from the 
mizen-rigging of the ship, and at mid-day, on ascending Lookout 
Hill, our eyes were gladdened with a full view of the resplendent 
orb of day. The sun only remained for a few seconds above our 
horizon, but that short appearance made us feel as if we had all 
taken a new lease of life. During the first two weeks of March 
we experienced most intensely cold weather. On the 4th, our 
corrected thermometers registered — 73°, or 105° below the 
freezing-point. The weather at that time being calm I had a 
couple of hours’ walk, and ascended Lookout Hill, from whence a 
good view of the sun was obtainable at mid-day. Its entire 
sphere, a glorious golden shield, now rose above the southern 
highlands, and to our benighted eyes shone with a lustre that 
could only be appreciated by those who, like ourselves, had passed 
a long five months wearying for its return. During this intense 
cold, we did not whilst taking exercise feel any bad effects: 
certainly we left the ship warm and well clad, and were not 
exposed sufficiently long to lower the vital energy, but in 
ascending a hill, some six hundred feet high, I experienced no 
difficulty in breathing or any other annoyance, though perhaps 
my respiration was a trifle quicker than usual. Dr. Moss was at 
he same time out with his gun, rambling over the hills for four 
hours, and found fresh tracks of a Hare. Immediately on his 
return to the ship I obtained his sub-lingual temperature, which 
registered 993°. Though of necessity we were all obliged daily to 
expose large surfaces of our body unprotected for a few minutes, 
yet in no instance were any frost-bites incurred or any incon- 
veniences suffered. Inside of the ship, or in nautical parlance 
“between decks,” we had to endure great discomfort from damp. 
The moisture in the air, from our breath, from our food and raiment, 
condensed on the beams, bulkheads, and sides of the ship, in fact 
everywhere not immediately adjacent to the stoves. Our sleeping 
cabins which were arranged along the sides of the ship formed 
condensers, the heated air of the ward-room passed into them, 
and the moisture deposited itself either in the form of ice, on the 
side exposed to the cold outside air, or in water which dripped 
I 
