“Well, Biff,” greeted Gale, “you seem to have got us anchored some place at last. Don’t look much like the last place we stopped, but I s’pose it’s all in a day’s work. What do you call it?” “One of the South Shetlands, I should say. I don’t know which.” “How’s the ship? Any holes in her yet?” “No, and she ain’t grinding any that I can hear. But she’s aground good and hard. She seems to be on a flat surface—mebbe sand. The sea’s running down, too, and I shouldn’t wonder if we were left high and dry before long.” “Oh, can’t we go ashore?” asked Edith Gale, eagerly. Poor girl, it was the first real land she had seen for more than a year, and even this cheerless coast seemed inviting. Captain Biffer nodded grimly. “We’ll have plenty of time to do that, ma’am,” he said, “before we get out of here, I’m thinking.” “Oh, Nicholas, will you take me right away? I do so want to set foot on solid ground again.” “We will go as soon as the Captain will let us,” I said, “and give us somebody to take us over.” The sea continued to run down, and during the forenoon the Billowcrest listed, though far less than if she had been a deeper vessel. The weather cleared just before luncheon, and soon afterwards Chauncey and Edith Gale, with Officer Larkins and myself, and a small crew, made ready to set out in the launch for investigation. At the last moment, we heard somebody come puffing up the companion-way, and Zar, fully arrayed for the trip, stood before us. “Look heah, I wan’ you take me in dat boat! I jes’ wan’ to set dis old foot on solidificated groun’ once more befo’ I die. I mighty tiahd dis ole ship dat toss, an’ tip, an’ spread-eagle, and doubleshuffle, an’ keep hit up foh six weeks at a stretch, an’ now tip ovah like a side-hill, so a’ old, fat ’ooman like me cain’t fin’ her balance, nohow. I wan’ go long, I tell you.” So Zar accompanied us, and we landed presently at a shelving beach, where we were greeted by some noisy birds, and a few small hair-seals, who slipped into the water as we approached. Leaving the crew we made our way between barren hills to the country beyond. The sun had come out, now, and being midsummer it seemed warm and genial, especially to those who had seen no other land for so long. “Not much like our violet reception in the Antarctics, eh, Nick?” said Gale. “Oh, but it’s land! land!” breathed Edith “Warm, solid land! Aren’t we glad to see it, Zar?” and it seemed to me that she grew well as I watched her. “Yes, _ma’am_! We is _dat_! Hit’s a mighty po’ country, I spec’, but hit seem to me right now as fine an’ proliferous as ole Vaginny!” Even Mr. Larkins seemed to joy in the land feeling, and said that it reminded him of places in Newfoundland, where as a boy he had found the bake-apple. He believed we could find it here, if we looked about a little.