Wednesday, January 15.—We have had high winds the last day or two and last night had quite a gale, the wind coming in strong gusts all night long. The garden has suffered considerably. The children lament over the destruction and go round propping up plants of their own accord.
Sunday, January 19.—We have lost our last Cape canary through moulting; he was a beautiful singer. Yesterday afternoon we went some way up the mountain just above the settlement. We walked for some distance up the Goat Ridge, crossed a ravine to our left, and then got on to what is called the Pinnacle, where we had a view which was awe-inspiring. There lay before us two or three yawning chasms stretching away down the mountain side. I hardly liked to look at them. One was Hottentot Gulch, whose sides, here bare, there dotted with trees or ferns, went down sheer a thousand or more feet. When on higher ground and looking at the expanse of ocean one realizes more than ever how we are cut off from the rest of the world.
Tuesday, January 21.—It is Lizzie Rogers' sixth birthday. She was very anxious to bring a present, and went round to try to get half-a-dozen eggs. Not being able to procure these, she brought us some cooked meat for supper. After having a game I sent her home, but she appeared again when her mother brought the milk. I did not know till afterwards that she wanted to stay the night and that her mother had literally to drag her away, poor little thing. She has long black eyelashes, from under which she looks out at one with a shy trusting look which is quite charming.
[Illustration: OUR BATHING PLACE (LITTLE BEACH)]
We had Betty Cotton and three of her contemporaries in to tea to-day and had quite a recherché meal for them, chocolate mould and some dainty little scones. Most of the people are out of tea, so a cup of it is a treat to them. They stayed three hours, talking chiefly of old times and shipwrecks. One of their favourite stories is of a captain who lashed his wife and child to the rigging and then swam ashore through the breakers. But instead of remaining on the beach near the foundering ship so as to be at hand to help and rescue them he went off to the settlement five miles away and comfortably slept through the night, leaving the islanders to do the watching and rescuing. Our visitors always come in their best attire, and they like being invited into the inner parlour. Mrs. Martha Green went home and returned with a dozen and a half eggs.
Thursday, January 23.—The poor penguins that land on this shore to moult have but a short life, for the dogs hunt them out at once. The other day we rescued one from Rob, who was dragging it from a small cave. It ran back and Graham piled up large stones at the mouth so that no dog could get at it. Each morning on our way to bathe we had a look at it and could see its white breast close to the aperture. But alas! one morning we found the bird gone. A boy had broken down the wall and his dog had killed the penguin. While penguins are moulting they require no other food than that with which Nature has provided them in a store of oil from which they can draw.
Sunday, January 26.—The Repettos have been here this evening. They had some difficulty in getting in, for Rob saw them and took his stand on the doorstep, his hair bristling; they went round to the front and he ran round the other way to meet them. They are so kind to him he ought to have behaved better, but he does not approve of any one coming in the evening. We read aloud Mr. Peck's Diary, Two Years in Baffin Land in the Intelligencer, and they were much interested. They like coming and we are only too pleased to see them.
Tuesday, January 28.—I think every one is now giving up all hope of seeing the schooner.
To-day John Glass and his wife gave a dinner to the whole island in honour of their one-year-old son. Ellen and I went. Everything was excellently arranged. We began with stuffed meat which was really very well cooked, then followed open berry-tarts with twisted bars across, open apple-tarts, and berry-pudding served with cream.
Yesterday Bob Green took Graham for a long-promised outing to the Caves, a spot in the mountain just above Big Beach and about a third of the way up to the Base. At one point, considered very dangerous because if a step is missed there must be a deadly fall, he insisted on roping him. We watched them with much interest both going and returning, as they wound their way in and out.