12th.—Very cold weather: thermometer down to -41°, and the breeze comes to us loaded with mist from the open water, causing the air to feel colder than it otherwise would. Bellot Strait has become a nuisance, not only from this cause, but from the strong winds—purely local—which seldom cease to blow through it.
The seal nets have produced nothing; and as there are no seals, we no longer wonder at not seeing bears. Three foxes have been trapped and a hare seen. Our canine force numbers twenty-four serviceable dogs and six puppies; but these, I fear, will not be strong enough for sledging by March. The monotony of our lives is vastly increased by want of occupation, and confinement, by severe gales, to the ship for five days out of every seven. The general health is good, but there is a natural craving for fresh meat and fresh vegetables—in great measure, perhaps, because they cannot be obtained; but a well-filled letter-bag would be more welcome than anything I know of.
COLD UNUSUALLY TRYING.
26th.—Upon four days only during the last fourteen has the weather permitted us to walk. I allude to the wind as the obstacle to our exercise; for temperature, when the air is still, is no bar to any reasonable amount of it. Three or four coveys of ptarmigan have been seen, and of these I shot one brace. The cold increases: thermometer has fallen to -47½°, although blowing a moderate gale at the time, and the atmosphere dense with mist.
Our Christmas has been spent with a degree of loyalty to the good old English custom at once spirited and refreshing. All the good things which could possibly be collected together appeared upon the snow-white deal tables of the men, as the officers and myself walked (by invitation) round the lower deck. Venison, beer, and a fresh stock of clay pipes, appeared to be the most prized luxuries; but the variety and abundance of the eatables, tastefully laid out, was such as might well support the delusion which all seemed desirous of imposing upon themselves—that they were in a land of plenty—in fact, all but at home! We contributed a large cheese and some preserves, and candles superseded the ordinary smoky lamps. With so many comforts, and the existence of so much genuine good feeling, their evening was a joyous one, enlivened also by songs and music.
Whilst all was order and merriment within the ship, the scene without was widely different. A fierce north-wester howled loudly through the rigging, the snow-drift rustled swiftly past, no star appeared through the oppressive gloom, and the thermometer varied between 76° and 80° below the freezing point. At one time it was impossible to visit the magnetic observatory, although only 210 yards distant, and with a rope stretched along, breast high, upon poles the whole way. The officers discharged this duty for the quarter-masters of the watches during the day and night.
Jan., 1859.
NEW YEAR'S DAY.
1st Jan., 1859.—This being Saturday night as well as New Year's Day, "Sweethearts and Wives" were remembered with even more than the ordinary feeling. New year's eve was celebrated with all the joyfulness which ardent hope can inspire: and we have reasonable ground for strong hope. At midnight the expiration of the old year and commencement of the new one was announced to me by the band—flutes, accordion, and gong—striking up at my door. Some songs were sung, and the performance concluded with "God save the Queen;" the few who could find space in our mess-room sang the chorus; but this by no means satisfied all the others who were without and unable to show themselves to the officers, so they echoed the chorus, and the effect was very pleasing. Our new year's day has been commemorated with all the substantials of Christmas fare, but without so much display,—less tailoring in pastry, not quite so much clipping of dough into roses, and anchors, and nondescript animals, &c., &c. The past week has been cold and stormy; it now blows strong, and the temperature is -44°.
On the 29th a few fresh tracks of animals and a ptarmigan were seen: yesterday I saw three ptarmigan. December proved to be an unusually cold month, its mean temperature being -33°; and it was rendered more than ordinarily dark and gloomy by continual mists from Bellot Strait. This open water adds seriously to the drawbacks of a spot already sufficiently cheerless, gameless, and "wind-loved."