Jan. 3. Edith and Chauncey Gale were with me almost constantly to-day in the crow’s-nest. The sailors to-night claim they can “smell” land. As we approach it, life becomes much more frequent, though not more cheerful. It is either white or black, and unmusical. The chant of the seals is depressing, and the chorus of the penguins a thing to be avoided. However, they always amuse us, and we appear to furnish entertainment for them. Also, they are fond of good music, perhaps because they cannot make it themselves. Edith Gale played the piano last night, and a whole flock of “Billy Watsons” in dress suits crowded on deck to listen to it. Probably they thought it a musicale given for their benefit. The sea-leopards and crab-eaters gathered about the ship, too, and would have come on board if they had been able. Mr. Sturritt is experimenting with all of these from a food standpoint, and the sailors are collecting many skins and feathers. [Illustration: AN IMPRESSION BY CHAUNCEY GALE. ] Jan. 5. Borchgrevink must have found very different conditions, indeed, from the westward, for we are at latitude 70°, or very near it, and we have not yet found it necessary to penetrate the ice. This current that now appears to drift us to the southwest may have something to do with it, or it may be that this is a warmer summer, hence the different conditions. Jan. 6. This current, if it is a current, puzzles us all. It is not noticeable on the surface, where the ice moves with the wind (I have even fancied to-day when there was no wind that the floes drifted northward), but seems to grip us from beneath and push us slowly, very slowly, but surely, to the southwest. Gale said to-day it was like the illness, “grip.” We were sure we had it, but we didn’t know just where. Jan. 8. Whatever this current is, it is carrying us in the right direction. It has brought us safely through the waters explored by Sir James Ross fifty years ago, and where pack-ice delayed Borchgrevink thirty-eight days. The Captain thinks it a slight undercurrent that curves in around Possession Island, which we shall see to-morrow, if all goes well. We are all eager for the first sight of Antarctic land. Again to-day there was no wind, and both Edith Gale and I held that the surface ice was drifting to the north, but the others thought it only _seemed_ so because of our movement to the southward. We did not change our opinion, however. It is curious, but we almost invariably agree. It is as if we were two parts of one mind. How beautiful she was to-day in her new seal hood, with the funny little point at the top. I.... [Illustration: “PROCESSION ISLAND” BY CHAUNCEY GALE. ]