it is not so easily come by. A flight of Antarctic petrel accompanied
the ship for some distance, wheeling to and fro about her rather than
following in the wake as do the more northerly sea birds.

It is [good] to escape from the captivity of the pack and to feel that
a few days will see us at Cape Crozier, but it is sad to remember
the terrible inroad which the fight of the last fortnight has made
on our coal supply.

2 P.M.--The wind failed in the forenoon. Sails were clewed up, and
at eleven we stopped to sound. The sounding showed 1111 fathoms--we
appear to be on the edge of the continental shelf. Nelson got some
samples and temperatures.

The sun is bursting through the misty sky and warming the air. The
snowstorm had covered the ropes with an icy sheet--this is now peeling
off and falling with a clatter to the deck, from which the moist slush
is rapidly evaporating. In a few hours the ship will be dry--much to
our satisfaction; it is very wretched when, as last night, there is
slippery wet snow underfoot and on every object one touches.

Our run has exceeded our reckoning by much. I feel confident that
our speed during the last two days had been greatly under-estimated
and so it has proved. We ought to be off C. Crozier on New Year's Day.

8 P.M.--Our calm soon came to an end, the breeze at 3 P.M. coming
strong from the S.S.W., dead in our teeth--a regular southern
blizzard. We are creeping along a bare 2 knots. I begin to wonder
if fortune will ever turn her wheel. On every possible occasion she
seems to have decided against us. Of course, the ponies are feeling