Until the men were able to erect more or less permanent quarters, their plight at times was pitiable. The canvas was cut up and an A-tent was rigged up. It was a cramped home, measuring 16 feet long by 6 feet wide, while the ridge pole was only 4½ feet above the ground. This domicile just held the ten men in their sleeping-blankets. Naturally, they had to crawl rather than walk about, and, as the shelter served as a dining-room as well, the little band had to tolerate many discomforts. When the wind howled round the rock, causing the canvas to flap violently and threatening to carry it away at every turn, when the sea swarmed over the rock, and when the heavy rains to which this coast is subject poured down pitilessly, the men never knew what it was to have dry clothing or bedding. Cooking was carried on in the open, and the kitchen arrangements had to be shifted from time to time, according to the direction of the wind, so that the fire was brought on the lee side of the shelter. The workers were exposed to danger on all sides incessantly, but fortunately in their chief, Ballantyne, they had one of those men who appear to be made for such contingencies; who was alert, ready for any emergency, nursed his staff sedulously, and whose buoyant spirits dispelled all feelings of gloom, loneliness, or homesickness. The little band toiled hard and long through the rough autumnal weather, and the arrival of stern winter did not bring any cessation in their labours. They fought the rock grimly and ignored hardship. Certainly, they were cheered by the arrival of the boats with supplies, but occasionally a fortnight or more would pass without a call being made at the rock, and often, when a boat did come up and prepare to land material, it had to slip its anchor hastily to make a frantic run for safety before the rising swell and the gathering storm.