We have learned to regard this Belgica field as a little polar farm preserved for our special benefit, to harbour us safely through the long night which is before us. It is a substitute for land, though it drifts about with the wind, and on its edges we find products in the form of seals and penguins. But this faith in security and prospective rest in a solid unbroken crust has now vanished and at a time when we most need it. Only a month ago the broadest diameter of the field was four miles. About two weeks ago an assault began along the outer edge of the north and south. Huge fragments were torn off, bits of other fields were pushed on by neighbouring sheets. Little by little our field has been reduced to less than half its former size; but the Belgica always escaped this battle of Nature until this morning. Now the field is completely destroyed and the bark is again among the pieces in the sea, taking hard thumps from the restless ice. We are somewhat anxious about the safety of our outhouses. There are several crevasses near Danco’s observatory. The captain’s “hotel,” from which he sights the stars, is threatened by a crevasse under it, and Arctowski has gathered up all his instruments and placed them aboard for safe keeping. It is just these little black spots about the vessel which add the suggestion of a village and a home to our otherwise dull surroundings. (However, the threatened destruction did not proceed beyond a lively scare. On the day following the ice came together, the temperature fell, the fissures closed, and a heavy fall of snow gave the Belgica a soft feathery bed in which she rested until relieved by our own hands.)
True Sea-Leopard.
(Ogmorhynus Leptonyx.)
True Sea-Leopard.
(Ogmorhynus Leptonyx.)
Crab-eater.
(Lobodon Carcinophaga.)