Our life has worked itself into a very systematic routine. Our habits during the sunlight were naturally somewhat irregular, but we have now subsided into absolute method. What a comfort it is to be relieved of responsibility! How kind it is of the clock to tell us what to do! The ship's bell follows it through the hours, and we count its shrill sounds and thereby know precisely how to act. The bell tells us when it is half-past seven in the morning, and then we "turn out." An hour later we breakfast, and at one o'clock we lunch. We dine at six, and at eleven we put out the lights and "turn in,"—that is, everybody but the writer of this journal and the "watch." After dinner I usually join the officers at a game of whist, or in my own cabin have a game of chess with Sonntag or Knorr. One day differs very little from another day. Radcliffe shows me the record of the weather when he has made it up, in the evening; and it is almost as monotonous as the form of its presentation. The daily report of ship's duties I have from McCormick, but that does not present any thing that is peculiarly enlivening. I make a note of what is passing, in this voluminous journal,—partly for use, partly from habit, and partly for occupation. The readings of the magnetometer and the barometers and thermometers, and the tide-register, and of the growth of the ice, and all such like useful knowledge, find a place on these pages; but novelties are rare, and when they do come I set opposite to them marginal notes, that I may pick them out from time to time as one does a happy event from the memory.
DAILY ROUTINE.
The ship's duties go on thus:—After breakfast the men "turn to" under the direction of Dodge, and clear up the decks and polish and fill the lamps; and a detail is made to go out to the iceberg for our daily supply of water. Then the fire-hole is looked after, the dogs are fed, the allowance of coal for the day is measured out, the store-room is unlocked and the rations are served; and before lunch-time comes round the labors of the day are done. After lunch we take a walk for exercise, and I make it a rule that every one who has not been at work two hours must spend at least that much time in walking for his health.
OUR HOME.
For my own part I take an almost daily drive around the bay or a stroll over the hills or out upon the frozen sea. Sometimes I carry my rifle, hoping to shoot a deer or perhaps a bear, but usually I go unarmed and unaccompanied, except by a sprightly Newfoundland pup which rejoices in the name of General. This little beast has shared with me my cabin since leaving Boston, and has always insisted upon the choicest place. We have got to be the best of friends. He knows perfectly well when the hour comes to go out after breakfast, and whines impatiently at the door; and when he sees me take my cap and mittens from their peg his happiness is complete. And the little fellow makes a most excellent companion. He does not bore me with senseless talk, but tries his best to make himself agreeable. If in the sober mood, he walks beside me with stately gravity; but when not so inclined he rushes round in the wildest manner,—rolling himself in the snow, tossing the white flakes to the wind, and now and then tugging at my huge fur mittens or at the tail of my fur coat. Some time ago he fell down the hatch and broke his leg, and while this was healing I missed him greatly. There is excellent companionship in a sensible dog.
I try as much as a reasonable regard for discipline will allow to cultivate the social relations and usages of home. True, we cannot get up a ball, and we lack the essential elements of a successful tea-party; but we are not wholly deficient in those customs which, in the land where the loved ones are, take away so much of life's roughnesses. And these little formal observances promote happiness and peace. There is no place in the world where habits of unrestrained familiarity work so much mischief as in the crowded cabin of a little vessel, nor is there any place where true politeness is so great a blessing. In short, I try to make our winter abode as cheerful as possible; and we shall need all the brightness we can get within these wooden walls, if we would not be overwhelmed with the darkness which is outside. I want my people always to feel that, from whatever hardship and exposure they may encounter, they can here find cheerful shelter from the storms, and repose from their fatigues.
As far as possible, Sunday is observed as we would observe it at home. At ten o'clock, accompanied by the executive officer, I hold an inspection of every part of the vessel, and examine minutely into the health, habits, and comforts of the whole ship's company; and immediately afterward they all assemble in the officers' quarters, where I read to them a portion of the morning service; and this is followed by a chapter from the good Book, which we all love alike, wherever we are. Sometimes I read one of Blair's fine sermons, and when meal time comes round we find it in our heart to ask a continuance of God's provident care; and if expressed in few words, it is perhaps not the less felt.
November 6th.
RETURN OF SONNTAG.
The travelers have returned, and, as I feared, they have been unsuccessful. Sonntag has dined with me, and he has just finished the recital of the adventures of his party.