As late as the 18th of November, water, in a broad lane, was seen to the S.E. from the extreme of Griffith's Island, showing the pack to be in motion in Barrow's Strait, a belief we otherwise arrived at from the frequent appearance of a water-sky in the same direction, especially after spring-tides or strong N.W. gales. A few bears, perhaps eight in all, visited our ships during the closing period of 1850, showing they did not hibernate immediately the sun disappeared; indeed, so long as there was water near us, they would find seal, their usual, perhaps their only, food. And, apart from the appearance of water in our immediate neighbourhood, we were convinced that Lancaster Sound was still open, from the sudden rise of the temperature of the air, whenever the wind drew to that quarter; and, what was more extraordinary still, whenever the wind was from the northward, a black vapour, a certain indication of water, was seen to be rolling past Cape Hotham out of Wellington Channel: could that have been open so long after the sea in our neighbourhood was closed?

However, to return to the bears. Whenever an unlucky brute was seen, the severe competition as to who should possess his skin, entailed no small risk of life upon the hunters as well as the proprietor of the coveted prize; and crossing the line of fire was recklessly performed, in a manner to have shocked an "Excellent" gunner or a Woolwich artilleryman. Discretion was the better part of Ursine valour, and one brute was alone bagged, although a good many were very much frightened; the frequent chases, and constant failures, giving rise to much quizzing on the part of the unsportsmanlike, and learned dissertations by the Nimrods upon the rules to be observed in bear-shooting. As instances of what risks the community ran, whilst the furor for skins was at its height, I will merely say, that two unconscious mortals who had got on a hummock to see around, were mistaken in the twilight for bears, and stood fire from a rifle, which, happily for them, on this occasion, missed its mark; and one day, a respectable individual, trotting among the snow ridges, was horrified to see on a piece of canvas, in large letters, "Beware of spring-guns!" Picture to oneself the person's feelings. How was he to escape? The next tread of his foot, and, maybe, off into his body might be discharged the murderous barrel secreted for a bear. Fate decreed otherwise; the alarmed seaman escaped; and the spring-gun was banished to some lonely ravine, from which the proprietor daily anticipated a dead bear, and I, a dead shipmate; some of whom, pining for forlorn damsels at home, were led to sentimentalize in retired places.

My captain of the forecastle, whose sporting propensities I have elsewhere noted, cured me of a momentary mania for trophies of the chase, thus: a large bear and cub, after coming towards the "Pioneer," for some time halted, and were fired at by three officers with guns: of the three barrels only one went off, wounding the cub, which, with its mother, made for Griffith's Island. I chased, followed by some of the men, the foremost of whom was my ancient mariner, who kept close to my heels, urging me on by declaring we were fast catching the brutes. We decidedly had done so. By the time I reached the island, and both bears were within shot, climbing up, with cat-like agility, the steep face of the cliffs, again and again I failed to get my gun off; and as the she-bear looked at one time inclined to come down and see who the bipeds were that had chased her, I looked round at my supporters, who were vehemently exclaiming that "we should have her in a minute!" They consisted of Old Abbot, armed with a snow-knife, and some men who ran, because they saw others doing so. Now, a snow-knife consists of nothing more than a piece of old iron beaten out on an anvil so as to cut snow, having an edge, which, when I anxiously asked if it was sharp, I was figuratively told, "The owner, John Abbot, could have ridden to the devil upon it without injury to his person." Yet, with this, I verily believe, the old seaman would have entered the list against the teeth and talons of Mistress Bruin. I objected, however, and allowed her to escape with becoming thankfulness.

CHRISTMAS-DAY ON BOARD.

Christmas-day was, of course, not forgotten, and our best, though humble fare was displayed in each of the vessels. Hospitality and good-fellowship, however, were not confined to this day alone; and had not the bond of friendship, which knit the officers and men of the squadron together, taught them the necessity of sharing the little they had, the open-handed liberality of our hospitable leader would have done so. At his table, petty differences, professional heart-burnings, and quarter-deck etiquette, were forgotten and laid aside. A liberal and pleasant host made merry guests; and amongst the many ways in which we strove to beguile the winter of 1850-51, none have more agreeable recollections than his dinner-parties.

It may not here be out of place to describe the ordinary clothing worn, as yet, by officers and men: the temperature ranging often as low as 35° below zero, with strong gales:—

January, 1851.—That we were all paler, was perceptible to every one; but only a few had lost flesh. A very little exercise was found to tire one very soon, and appetites were generally on the decrease. For four hours a-day, we all, men and officers, made a point of facing the external air, let the temperature be what it would; and this rule was carefully adhered to, until the return of the sun naturally induced us to lengthen our excursions. Only on three occasions was the weather too severe for communication between the vessels, and the first of these occurred in the close of December and commencement of January. To show one's face outboard, was then an impossibility; the gale swept before it a body of snow higher than our trucks, and hid every thing a few yards off from sight. The "Resolute," three hundred yards off, was invisible; and the accumulation of snow upon our housing, threatened to burst it in. The floe seemed to tremble as the gale shrieked over its surface, and tore up the old snow-drifts and deposited them afresh. A wilder scene man never saw: it was worthy of the Arctic regions, and a fit requiem for the departing year.

AURORAS AND CLOUDLESS SKIES.

After one of these gales, walking on the floe was a work of much difficulty, in consequence of the irregular surface it presented to the foot. The snow-ridges, called sastrugi by the Russians, run (where unobstructed by obstacles which caused a counter-current) in parallel lines, waving and winding together, and so close and hard on the edges, that the foot, huge and clumsy as it was with warm clothing and thick soles, slipped about most helplessly; and we, therefore, had to wait until a change of wind had, by a cross drift, filled up the ridges thus formed, before we took long walks; and on the road between the vessels parties were usually employed mending the roads.