I have been overhauling our coal account, and have regulated the daily consumption for the winter. We have thirty-four tons on board, and have but two fires. Two and a half buckets full a day go to the galley stove in the hold, and one and a half to the cabin; and with this consumption of fuel the people live in comfort and cook their food and melt from the ice an abundant supply of water. The ice, which is of the clearest and purest kind, comes from a little berg which is frozen up in the mouth of the harbor, about half a mile away. I have no stove in my own cabin, all the heat which I require coming to me across the companion-way through the slats of my door, from the officers' stove. The temperature in which I live ranges from 40° to 60°, and, among my furs, I lounge through the hours that I do not spend out of doors as snug and comfortable as I could wish to be. Something of my comfort is, however, due to the excess of heat of the officers' quarters. The temperature of their cabin runs sometimes to 75°, and is seldom lower than 60°, and they are at times actually sweltering. Our quarters are throughout free from dampness, and are well ventilated. A portion of the main-hatch above the men's quarters is always open, and the companion-scuttle is seldom closed. This ventilation being through the house on deck, that apartment is kept at quite a comfortable degree of warmth; and it is a very convenient medium between the lower deck and the outer air. In this house such work is performed as cannot be done below; and there, in the dim light of the signal-lamp, which hangs suspended from the main-boom, one may see almost at any time a motley group of men working or playing, as the case may be. Forward in one corner stands Hans's tent, through the slits in which come the cheerful glimmer of a lamp and the lullaby of an Esquimau mother, soothing to sleep her "pretty one." On the opposite side is our butcher-shop, where are piled up a lot of frozen reindeer, awaiting Marcus and Jacob,--the butchers. Near by stands our portable forge and anvil, where McCormick is forever blowing the hot embers and pounding at nobody knows what. Dodge says "he is killing time." Under the window amidships stands the carpenter's bench and the vice, where Christian, Jensen, Peter, and Hans are always tinkering at some hunting or sledge implements,--while, mingling promiscuously on the deck, the officers and men may be seen smoking their pipes, and apparently intent only upon as little exertion and as much amusement as the Arctic night will give them. A cheerful light bursts up from below through the hatchways, bringing with it many a cheerful laugh. Around the mainmast stands our gun-rack, and near by is a neat arrangement of McCormick's where every man has a peg for his fur coat, as we do not bring these things below, on account of the great change of temperature producing dampness in them. November 2d.