December, 1879, our fourth month in the pack, came in with crisp cold weather; and as the days passed with the ice about us thickening and the pack showing signs of some stability, we began again to breathe without the subconscious dread that each minute was to be our last. After a few days thus, we even settled into the winter routine of the ship, released our dogs, and commenced to take some interest in the wonders of the Arctic night.
For a month, under the shadow of death, personalities had been forgotten, personal idiosyncrasies submerged. Now with the easing of that strain, our likes and dislikes, our personal vanities, and the ordinary problems of existence in the Arctic, popped up once more.
De Long began to worry over scurvy. No Arctic expedition previously of which we had knowledge had been free of it; in many of them, scurvy, even more than ice, had been responsible for their tales of horrible suffering, death, and disaster. Overmuch salt was apparently the cause of scurvy; proper diet, proper water, and proper exercise were the antidotes prescribed by Dr. Ambler, and De Long plunged vigorously into a program designed to protect us from that loathsome disease.
Exercise to fortify our bodies, the easiest of the requisites to provide, received immediate attention. On December 2, after the first night in weeks during which the captain felt secure enough to take off his clothes when turning in, came a new order.
We were lounging round the messroom, hungrily waiting for breakfast while Tong Sing padded about between pantry and table, setting out the oatmeal, the coffee, and the thick slices of bread when the door from the captain’s stateroom swung back, and with a grave,
“Good morning, gentlemen,” in came De Long, holding a paper in his hand.
“Good morning, captain,” we replied in a ragged chorus, and hardly waiting till the skipper had seated himself, slid into our chairs. As usual, I lifted the cover of the oatmeal dish and started to serve.
“Wait a minute with that, Melville; I want to read this order.” The captain adjusted his glasses, stroked his mustaches a moment while scanning what he had written, then in his scholarly manner read,
“Until the return of spring, and on each day without exception when the temperature is above thirty degrees below zero, the ship will be cleared regularly by all hands from eleven a.m. till one p.m. During this period every officer and man will leave the ship for exercise on the ice, which should be as vigorous as possible. No one except the officer entering the noon observations in the log will for any purpose during this period return to the ship.
(Signed) George Washington De Long,
Commanding.”