FROM EDINBURGH TO THE ANTARCTIC 257 
and these islands are in places where the depth is from 
ninety to two hundred fathoms. 
We found stones and red shrimps inside the penguins ; 
and penguins, red shrimps, and stones inside the seals. 
May good digestion wait on the grampus that swallows 
the lot ! 
About midday one of the boats was ordered off for 
seals, and five of us scrambled into it and were lowered 
away. Bonnar weighed down the bow, the Cockney 
steered, I stroked, and two boys rowed Three and Four. 
Bonnar is a stout, good-natured, middle-aged Irishman, as 
round as an egg, with bearded face, a model for a Sancho 
Panza : one moment he is the picture of fat woe, the next 
he is shaking all over with infectious, gurgling laughter. 
All hands enjoy getting away from the ship just now, 
as the life is made miserable for those left on board by 
one man. Away in the boats we shake off the gloom 
and work like niggers, and enjoy life like schoolboys in 
the country. 
Once we have, shoved off from the black ship's side 
and begin to row in and out amongst the ice islands we 
feel more at home, as if we, as well as the seals and 
penguins, had a share in this quiet world. Our appear- 
ance I am afraid is rather against such a claim — dark worn 
clothes, soiled with blood, are hardly in keeping with the 
brilliant opal and amethyst-coloured surroundings. The 
exercise in the keen, pure air puts us all in good humour, 
and we get away for a mile or so in splendid whaling 
form. Then Bonnar gets puffed, so we say, and lets his 
oar swing in, and stands in the bow and begins to see 
R 
