FROM EDINBURGH TO THE ANTARCTIC 
53 
on the yards and rigging are seen, — dusky, foreshortened 
figures against the broad shadowy sails. Forward, the 
smith is thumping soft red iron on his ringing anvil, 
whilst his mate works the bellows, sending the smoke 
curling aloft, faint blue against the shadows in the hollows 
of the sails, and rusty red as it swirls across the patches 
of blue sky. In the shadow thrown on deck by the fore- 
sail, men rtre tarring spun yarn and weaving mats for 
chaffing-gear, and the carpenter sweats in the heat as he 
chops with his adze at the yellow pitch-pine spar for our 
new jibboom, making great chips fly into the sunlight 
like lumps of gold. 
No two days are quite alike ; but always when the sun 
sets there is the same rich light filling our decks, lighting 
brown faces under broad white hats with a ruddy glow, 
