Oct., 1857.

FIXED IN THE ICE.

3d Oct.—September has passed away and left us as a legacy to the pack; what a month have we had of anxious hopes and fears!

Up to the 17th S.E. winds prevailed, forcing the ice into a compact body, and urging it north-westward; subsequently N.W. winds set in, drifting it southward, and separating the floe-pieces; but the change of wind being accompanied by a considerable fall of temperature, they were either quickly cemented together again, or young ice formed over the newly opened lanes of water, almost as rapidly as the surface of the sea became exposed. During the month the thermometer ranged between +36° and -2°. Two more bears and a raven have been seen. A wearied ptarmigan alighted near the ship, but before it could take wing again the dogs caught it, and scarcely a feather remained by the time I could rush on deck.

Our beautiful little organ was taken out of its case to-day, and put up on the lower deck; the men enjoy its pleasing tones, whilst Christian unceasingly turns the handle in a state of intense delight; he regards it with such awe and admiration, and is so entranced, that one cannot help envying him; of course he never saw one before. The instrument was presented by the Prince Consort to the searching vessel bearing his name which was sent out by Lady Franklin in 1851; it is now about to pass its third winter in the frozen regions.

SNOW CRYSTALS.

Two dogs ran off yesterday, in the vain hope, I suppose, of bettering their condition,—we only feed them three times a week at present; they returned this morning.

Seals are daily seen upon the new ice, but in this doubtful sort of light they are extremely timid, therefore our sportsmen cannot get within shot. The bears scent or hear our dogs, and so keep aloof; even the shark has deserted us, the bait remains intact. The snow crystals of last night are extremely beautiful; the largest kind is an inch in length; its form exactly resembles the end of a pointed feather. Stellar crystals two-tenths of an inch in diameter have also fallen; these have six points, and are the most exquisite things when seen under a microscope. I remember noticing them at Melville Island in March, 1853, when the temperature rose to +8°; as these were formed last night between the temperatures of +6° and +12°, it would appear that the form is due to a certain fixed temperature. In the sun, or even in moonlight, all these crystals glisten most brilliantly; and as our masts and rigging are abundantly covered with them, the 'Fox' never was so gorgeously arrayed as she now appears.

MONOTONOUS LIFE.

13th.—One day is very like another; we have to battle stoutly with monotony; and but that each twenty-four hours brings with it necessary though trivial duties, it would be difficult to remember the date. We take our guns and walk long distances, but see nothing. Two of the dogs go hunting on their own account, sometimes remaining absent all night. What they find or do is a mystery. The weather is generally calm and cold,—very favorable for freezing purposes at all events,—for the ice of only three weeks' growth is two feet thick.