THE FIRST WINTER. 189 
room was in complete darkness, save for the glow of the 
galley stove and where a splash of light showed the night 
watchman preparing his supper. Some snored loudly, but 
none so loud as Bowers; others talked in their sleep, the 
more so when some nasty experience had lately set their 
nerves on edge. There was always the ticking of many 
instruments, and sometimes the ring of a little bell: to 
this day I do not know what most of them meant. Ona 
calm night no sound penetrated except, perhaps, the whine 
of a dog, or the occasional kick of a pony in the stable out- 
side. Any disturbance was the night watchman’s job. But 
on a bad blizzard night the wind, as it tore seawards over 
the hut, roared and howled in the ventilator let into the 
roof: in the more furious gusts the whole hut shook, and 
the pebbles picked up by the hurricane scattered them- 
selves noisily against the woodwork of the southern wall. 
We did not get many nights like these the first winter ; 
during the second we seemed to get nothing else. One 
ghastly blizzard blew for six weeks. 
The night watchman took his last hourly observation 
at 7 a.M.,and was free to turn in after waking the cook and 
making up the fire. Frequently, however, he had so much 
work to do that he preferred to forgo his sleep and re- 
mainup. For instance, if the weather looked threatening, he 
would take his pony out for exercise as soon as possible in 
the morning, or those lists of stores were not finished, or 
that fish trap had to be looked after: all kinds of things. 
A sizzling on the fire and a smell of porridge and fried 
seal liver heralded breakfast, which was at 8 a.m. in theory 
and a good deal later in practice. A sleepy eye might see 
the meteorologist stumping out (Simpson always stumped) 
to change the records in his magnetic cave and visit his 
instruments on the Hill. Twenty minutes later he would 
be back, as often as not covered with drift and his wind 
helmet all iced up. Meanwhile, the more hardy ones were 
washing: that is, they rubbed themselves, all shivering, 
_ with snow, of a minus temperature, and pretended they 
liked it. Perhaps they were right, but we told them it was 
swank. I’m not sure that it wasn’t! It should be explained 
