FROM EDINBURGH TO THE ANTARCTIC 
171 
clothes. The morning-coat and the mildewed trousers 
recalled the Past — the days of yore when my friend was 
still a medical student : years and years ago it seems now, 
when I look back over these 7000 miles of ocean and 
these ninety days at sea. A piece of packthread-sewing 
in the nether garments was suggestive of the Lately, 
and the immediate future as well, But it was the 
ensemble of flowing mackintosh, vasculum, geological 
hammer, Jaeger snow-cap and shooting-boots, that sug- 
gested the present medicine-man of scientific tastes, and 
the Antarctic Pytheas of time to come. 
Now, to be fair, I should let the doctor sketch me ; but 
he is scientific, and so might be realistic, and realism is 
so out of date nowadays. My own impression, received 
from two inches of bad looking-glass, was that my ap- 
pearance might have been described as seedy, or very 
seedy, and rather complex, this latter effect was produced 
by the many properties I had to encumber myself with. 
There were my gun and cartridges to shoot specimens for 
the Scientist, and a bag to carry them in, besides sketch- 
books, water-colours, and various other trifles. 
One of our whale-boats at the quarter was lowered, and 
the shore party got into it, and five minutes after were 
standing with solid stones and earth under heel, as 
happy as schoolboys on the first day of the holidays. 
Along the beach there were some five dilapidated 
hulks ; some of these were connected by gangways with 
the shore, and formed small piers. The hulk we landed 
at was once called the Snow Squall. She had en- 
countered the Alabama in her early days. The Ala- 
