A day or so ago I found lying on my cabin-table a neat little missive which politely set forth, that "Mr. McCormick presents the compliments of the officers' mess to the Commander, and requests the honor of his company to dinner in their cabin, on the 21st instant, at six o'clock." And I have answered the summons, and have got back again into my own den overwhelmed with astonishment at the skill of my sailing-master in that art, the cultivation of which has made Lucullus immortal and Soyer famous, and highly gratified to see both officers and men so well pleased. The bill of fare, "with some original illustrations by Radcliffe," set forth a very tempting invitation to a hungry man, and its provisions were generally fulfilled. There was a capital soup--_jardinière_--nicely flavored, a boiled salmon wrapped in the daintiest of napkins, a roast haunch of venison weighing thirty pounds, and a brace of roast eider-ducks, with currant-jelly and apple-sauce, and a good variety of fresh vegetables; and after this a huge plum-pudding, imported from Boston, which came in with the flames of _Otard_ flickering all around its rotund lusciousness; and then there was mince-pie and blanc-mange and nuts and raisins and olives and Yankee cheese and Boston crackers and coffee and cigars, and I don't know what else besides. There were a couple of carefully-treasured bottles of Moselle produced from the little receptacle under my bunk, and some madeira and sherry from the same place. [Sidenote: A BIRTHDAY DINNER.] The only dish that was purely local in its character was a _mayonnaise_ of frozen venison (raw) thinly sliced and dressed in the open air. It was very crisp, but its merits were not duly appreciated. The "Bill" wound up thus:--"Music on the fiddle by Knorr. Song, 'We won't go home till mornin',' by the mess. Original 'yarns' always in order, but 'Joe Millers' forbidden on penalty of clearing out the 'fire-hole' for the balance of the night." I left the party two hours ago in unrestrained enjoyment of the evening. And right good use do they appear to be making of the occasion. The whole ship's company seem to be like Tam O'Shanter,-- "O'er a' the ills o' life victorious," without, however, so far as I can discover, any thing of the cause which led to that renowned individual's satisfactory state of mind. The sailors are following up their feast with a lively dance, into which they have forced Marcus and Jacob; while the officers, like true-born Americans, are making speeches. At this moment I hear some one proposing the health of "The Great Polar Bear." [Illustration] CHAPTER X. JOURNEY ON THE GLACIER.--THE FIRST CAMP.--SCALING THE GLACIER.--CHARACTER OF ITS SURFACE.--THE ASCENT.--DRIVEN BACK BY A GALE.--LOW TEMPERATURE.--DANGEROUS SITUATION OF THE PARTY.--A MOONLIGHT SCENE.