74 
FROM CAPE OF GOOD HOPE TO SYDNEY. 
sailer, sufficiently strengthened to resist the shock of ice, there was not a man on board who 
would not have voluntered to proceed further. It was with unanimous regret that we turned 
our back upon the South Pole. The day was one of broad sunshine, and the scene around 
us full of life. The steam of whales could be seen rising afar off between the icebergs; a 
shoal of grampus ploughed the sunlit waves; the sooty albatross, the snow birds, Cape 
pigeons, prion, puffinaria, fluttered about the ship, and on a piece of ice a company of 
penguins came sailing past. Later in the day we counted seventy large icebergs scattered 
about the horizon, and the crimson rays of the setting sun transformed them into so many 
islands of incandescent metal. Such was our last day in the Antarctic regions. We were 
soon to experience the dark side of life in these marvellous latitudes, whose terrors are not 
inferior to their splendour; and but for the watchful care and promptitude of our experienced 
captain, officers, and men, H.M.S. “Challenger” would never have returned to tell the tale 
of her southern cruise. 
On the 17th February the ship commenced her eastward cruise along the edge 
of the pack-ice. At times the horizon was clear of icebergs ; now and then some would 
come in sight, chiefly to starboard. A remarkable change was observed in the colour 
of the water, which during part of the afternoon turned from blue to an olive-green. 
On the following day the pack-ice was visible to southward, and the number of bergs 
considerable. The temperature of the air fell to — 4°-7 C.—the lowest experienced up to 
this date. On the 19th we obtained a sounding in 1800 fathoms. At 6 p.m. forty 
icebergs were visible from the deck, and the day ended with a snowstorm. February 20th 
was not distinguished by any notable occurrence. The water was of a deep-blue colour, 
moving at the rate of about three-quarter miles in a north-westerly direction, and about sunset 
the number of bergs had increased to sixty-nine. The 21st was passed in navigating between 
these snow-white floating islands, sculptured by sea and weather into the semblance of feudal 
castles, of bridges supported by gigantic arches and buttresses, of fairy caves illumined by 
blue lights. The beauty of the sunset this day was beyond words to describe—a gorgeous 
yet delicate and ethereal display of colour, which left the most fantastic imaginings of a Dord 
far in the shade. 
It may be useful to mention here that the term “ iceberg,” when applied to Antarctic 
formations, is not correct. By ice we generally understand a more or less transparent 
substance, the result of the solidification of water by cold. Now these enormous floating 
masses which, for want of a better name, have been termed icebergs, are not, at least as 
regards that portion which rises out of the water, composed of ice, but of snow. They are 
the product of a gradual accumulation of snow, and, to judge by their dimensions, must 
ha\e occupied many years in their formation. The masses thus formed are absolutely opaque, 
and of a dazzling white colour, like that of clouds when under the light of the sun. It is this 
which causes the exquisite play of colour we had such frequent occasions to admire, for, like 
the clouds, these snow bergs reflect every hue of day, from the infinitely delicate and silvery 
greys of the dawn to the deep crimson and golden orange of the sunset; while under the 
