FROM EDINBURGH TO THE ANTARCTIC 
327 
hollow mist round, the oppressive stillness only broken by 
the grinding on our sides of a piece of ice against which 
the ship is resting. Now that our thoughts are set on 
the home-going, the feeling of being cut off* from the 
world comes over us more than ever. Even the birds 
that have kept us faithful company have left us, as if they 
knew that we were wearied with their noiseless flight and 
the sad grey world they live in. Yet it was well to come 
here, to this quiet chamber of the south, where nature 
lies entranced in a death-like sleep ; now that we have 
touched her cold face and marvelled at her white beauty 
we long to go back to the living world we come from, 
where the breast of mother earth is kindly and warm, 
and the air is full of colour and perfume and pleasant 
sounds. 
. . . The very last skins are being made off. The snow 
is falling and dusting the men's worn clothes, hanging 
on their shaggy beards and caps till they look like models 
of old father Christmas. Those who are not making off are 
busred clearing up the decks and making all fast in the 
'tween-decks before we take to the high seas again. 
The Jason is alongside. She will not leave the ice for 
several days yet ; though she has more seals on board her 
than we have, yet she still has room for more. We are 
indebted to her master for supplying us with salt to 
preserve our seal-skins. The Balaena had only been pro- 
vided with a small quantity, the owners not expecting, I 
suppose, that we should get a full ship of seal-skins. 
I am told that this act of kindness on the part of 
