THE FUNERAL.

10th.—This morning the remains of Mr. Brand, inclosed in a neat coffin, were buried in a grave on shore. A suitable headboard and inscription will be placed over it. From all that I have gathered, it appears that his mind had been somewhat gloomy for the last few days, dwelling much upon poor Scott's sudden death. Whether he really saw three reindeer on Saturday, watched their movements, and fired his Minié rifle at them when 700 yards distant, or whether it was the creation of a disordered brain, none can tell. On his first return on board he said he had seen deer tracks only.

We are now without either engineer or engine-driver: we have only two stokers, and they know nothing about the machinery. Our numbers are reduced to twenty-four, including our interpreter and two Greenland Esquimaux.

15th.—We have enjoyed ten days of moderate winds and calms, but the temperature has fallen as low as -31°. This causes frost-cracks in the ice across the harbor; they will freeze over, and others will form, and gape, and freeze at intervals, so that by next spring we shall probably be moved several inches, perhaps feet, off shore.

Mists have obscured the sun of late, and now it does not rise at all. We are indifferent; its departure has become to us a matter of course. The usual winter covering of snow has been spread upon deck rather more than a foot thick. Its utility in preventing the escape of heat became at once strikingly apparent. Nothing has been seen but a few ptarmigan and one reindeer, which trotted off towards the ship. Our bullets missed him, and the dogs unfortunately caught sight and chased him away. I do not think any dogs could overtake a reindeer in this rough country; the rocks would speedily lame them, and the snow, in many places, is quite deep enough to fatigue them greatly, whereas it offers but slight impediment to the deer, furnished as he is with long legs and spreading hoofs.

SCARCITY OF GAME.

29th.—Animals have become very scarce. A few ptarmigan and willow-grouse have been seen, and three shot. Two days ago I saw two reindeer. The eastern sea is frozen over, and our old acquaintance the iceberg in Prince Regent's Inlet is still visible on a clear day. We brew sugar-beer, and we set nets for seals, but catch none. The nets have been made and set in favorable positions under the ice by the Greenlanders, so we suppose the seals also have migrated elsewhere; if so, the Esquimaux could not winter here. We have no regular school this winter, but five of the men study navigation every evening under the guidance of Young. Hobson and I are doing all we can to make the ship dry, warm, and comfortable: our large snow porches over the hatchways are a great improvement.

Dec., 1858.

5th Dec.—Cold, windy weather, with chilling mists from the open water in Bellot Strait. We can seldom leave the shelter of the ship for a walk on shore, and, when we do, rarely see even a ptarmigan.

SEVERE WEATHER.