that this is a warmer summer, hence the different conditions.

Jan. 6. This current, if it is a current, puzzles us all. It is not noticeable on the surface, where the ice moves with the wind (I have even fancied today when there was no wind that the floes drifted northward), but seems to grip us from beneath and push us slowly, very slowly, but surely, to the southwest. Gale said to-day it was like the illness, grip." We were sure we had it, but we didn't know just where.

66

Jan. 8. Whatever this current is, it is carrying us in the right direction. It has brought us safely through the waters explored by Sir James Ross fifty years ago, and where pack-ice delayed Borchgrevink thirty-eight days. The Captain thinks it a slight undercurrent that curves in around Possession Island, which we shall see to-morrow, if all goes well. We are all eager for the first sight of Antarctic land. Again to-day there was no wind, and both Edith Gale and I held that the surface ice was drifting to the north, but the others thought it only seemed so because of our movement to the southward. We did not change our opinion, however. It is curious, but we almost invariably agree. It is as if we were two parts of one mind. How beautiful she was to-day in her new seal hood, with the funny little point at the top. I. . .

Jan. 9. We have seen the coast to-day, but did not think it wise to attempt a landing. From the deck we could view with our glasses Possession Island, with its millions of penguin inhabitants. Their lookouts screamed and yelled at us to keep off, and their bleak shore is well defended by jagged

water.

rocks and long glacier points that push out into the We observed the perfect system of order and highways maintained by these solemn creatures as they moved procession-like to and from the shore -the fat ones on one side all proceeding to their

1

nests in the cliffs, and the thin ones coming to the
sea for food. They did not quarrel, or get in
each other's way.
It seemed that we could never
get through laughing at them. Gale
Gale says the
place should be named Procession Island, and
that the first addition he lays out down here he's
going to get "Billy Watsons" to build the streets
for him. There are many icebergs about, nearly
all with the blue lines and the tabular top. They
are from the great barrier to the south, whence
they have doubtless been blown by the gales of last
winter, and now seem to be drifting homeward
to be there in time for next.

Jan. 12. Our current has not deserted us, but
we are more mystified with it than ever.
The sur-
face ice is certainly drifting slowly northward, for
we can now gauge its movement by the shore, while
we and the bergs are drifting to the south. The
Captain says that it is not uncommon for currents
to flow in opposite directions, one above the other,
for a short distance, and that they are called "witch
tides," for the reason that ships are sometimes un-
able to move in them, even with a fair wind, but
that he has never seen anything just like this. Can
it be that this upper drift from the south is our
warm current, and that we have been in it for days
without knowing it? Certainly it is but a feeble
current as yet, and there is no warmth in it that we

can discover. There is no pack here, and we shall keep on going. Borchgrevink found open water

as low as 74°.

Jan. 13. It is our warm current from the south! There is no doubt of this to-day, and there is more to be told! When I went on deck this morning, Officer Larkins, who was on watch, reported that the ice seemed to run north a bit stronger, and that our drift southward was proportionately less rapid. I immediately had a pail of water drawn up, and tested it. It was 32°. Yesterday it had tested 30°! There was something about the look of the water that made me taste it. Larkins said he thought it had thrown me into a fit, and I suppose I did make some sort of a demonstration, for it was fresh! At least it was only brackish, from the melting in it of the salt-water ice. I don't remember just what I did at first, but I know that when I turned around and saw Edith Gale coming out of the cabin, I found it not easy to keep from behaving in a manner which I feel quite certain she would have disapproved. As it was, I rushed up to her with the glass. "Taste it!" I urged. "Taste it! It's fresh water from a warm river flowing straight from the South Pole!" She tasted and rejoiced with me. That it came from inland warmth we could not doubt. And now the mystery of these currents becomes clearer. Above the heavily-mov

ing ocean current below us there is the lighter, shallower current of fresh warm water, carried by its force in the opposite direction, and finally spreading and losing itself in the sea. It was doubtless this strange combination that helped to open our way through the pack, and that we believe now will show us the way to our destination. In celebration of the event we have just had a great feasting, at which I was the guest of honor. I cannot sleep, so I must go back to the deck to watch and rejoice.

Later-Edith Gale was there, and we walked up and down for an hour, constructing wild theories. We still drift southward against our new warm river. The drift of the great salt current a few feet below the surface is strong, and we let it carry us— whither?

Jan. 15. We are in the midst of a fierce, northeasterly storm that has brought a world of grinding pack-ice about us. All trace of our warm current is lost, of course, and we are fighting now with steam and sail to keep from being driven upon the ragged shores of Victoria Land. We cannot see the coast, for a thick mist has shut us in, but we know by the screaming flocks of birds whirling about us that it is not far distant. At any moment we may strike a hidden reef or rock, or be crushed by a toppling berg. No one slept last night, and one of the officers has been in the crow's-nest constantly.