The Wimter inm Victoria land 155 
in the house, while the air was filled with pebbles. 
During the night the gale increased, if possible; the 
hut shook and shivered, and we expected every minute 
to see our camp lifted bodily into the air like a 
balloon. The metal stays by which we had anchored 
the huts to the ground sang lustily during the fierce 
squalls of the hurricane, in consequence of the strain 
ICE FORMATIONS NEAR THE COAST-LINE, 
brought to bear upon them; had they snapped we 
would probably have been shaken up like so many 
dice in a box. From time to time we consulted 
the barometer; it continually sounded “still falling,” 
"still falling,” and we earnestly began to con- 
sider our chances, while now and again a jocular 
suggestion was passed from bunk to bunk as to 
how we should best be able to steer our hut in 
