Thanksgiving Day was marked by the presence of plum-pudding, candy and cigars on the dinner table, and a graphophone performance by the Doctor in the evening. December 4th, on the first of the moon, two Eskimos came in from the interior reporting thirty-three musk-oxen killed during the past month and that twelve to fifteen more dogs had died. During the December moon the Doctor made a number of photos of the ship. On the 16th Henson and six Eskimos came in and reported twenty musk-oxen killed since the last report. This makes sixty-two in all since the exodus from the ship the last of November. This is very satisfactory, but is more than balanced by the news of additional deaths among the dogs. Two large buck reindeer were found on the southern slopes of the United States Range with their horns locked, frozen in a death struggle. On the 17th with the running of the spring tides there were again serious complaints from the _Roosevelt_ and the neighbouring ice. On the 18th, Marvin left with four Eskimos for the Lake Hazen colonies to remain until the February moon. The winter solstice occurred on the 22d, the sun (invisible to us of course) in the early morning hours reaching his greatest southern declination, the midnight hour of the “Great Night.” From now on he would be slowly coming back to us. This is the New Year’s day of the northern hemisphere, a world-day beside which our artificial dates and holidays pale, and nowhere else meaning so much as here in this black disk of the “Great Night.” [Illustration: SHAPING THE RUNNERS ] [Illustration: DRILLING HOLES FOR THE LASHINGS ESKIMOS MAKING SLEDGES ABOARD THE “ROOSEVELT” ] [Illustration: SALMON TROUT FROM LAKE HAZEN ] [Illustration: ESKIMO WOMAN FISHING ON LAKE HAZEN ] [Illustration: ESKIMO MEN FISHING ON LAKE HAZEN ] About 2 A. M. of Christmas Day the wind began blowing from the south and was soon howling across the ship in a level torrent of white rage. Every stay and shroud was humming like a great æolian, and the ice about us was cracking and groaning with the strain. So violent was the wind that the window of the Captain’s stateroom was blown in. At 8 A. M. it was absolutely calm, the stars shining brilliantly, temperature at –6° F. and the air resonant with the dash of waves against the opposite side of the broad lead of open water. The mess rooms were decorated with flags by the Doctor, and there were presents for everyone, principally candies and other creature comforts contributed by friends at home, at the head of whom stood Huyler. Among my own presents were a bottle of special champagne from home, another of ancient Tokay from a thoughtful friend, two or three letters, and a pillow of fragrant fir needles from Eagle Island, in a case worked by the blue-eyed little one who herself had been born within the precincts of the “Great Night.” The Christmas dinner was a special event shared alike by those forward as well as aft and appreciated by everyone.