“During our last half-hour’s march, each man had been busy thawing his beard with his hands, for it had been changed into a lump of ice, so that it might not melt whilst the cooking was going on, and so wet their clothes and coverings. As soon as all were in their places in the tent, the aperture was closed, and preparations made for passing the night. “The stiff sail-cloth boots, fast frozen to the stockings which were to form our pillows, were thawed between the hands, and with difficulty taken off; the stockings, thick with rimy snow, were scraped, then wrung and laid upon the breast, to dry by our only available means—our bodily heat—so as to prepare them for the following day’s work. “At last all have wriggled themselves into the sleeping−sack, each one lying partly on his neighbour, and in this modest space waiting for the evening meal. “The first hour is spent in melting the snow, the second in preparing the meal, which is devoured eagerly, and as cool as possible. The development of steam during the cooking (which in the very cold weather consumed one bottle of spirit, or 1 lb.) put us into such a vapour-bath that we could not even see our next neighbour; the tent walls were completely wet through; and the temperature rose rapidly. The dampness of the coverings and clothes, from the condensation of the steam on the rime, of course increased, and the opening of the tent door occasioned a fall of snow within, so that by the time the cooking was over, all was covered with a thick coating of ice or crust of snow. “It is about eight or nine o’clock: the small rations of boiled beef, soup, and vegetables are no longer enough to allay the daily increasing hunger; but sleep buries that, as well as our burning thirst, in oblivion. Only occasionally did our sparing supply of spirits allow us to prepare an extra quantity of water. “During the march each one carried an india-rubber or tin bottle full of snow, on his bare body, turned as much as possible to the sun, and often after many hours only a few spare spoonfuls (and sometimes nothing) could be obtained from it. “Last of all, the cook, after cleaning out the kettle, also fights his way into the sleeping-sack, which thus attains its proper complement. A side position is the only one possible—to-night all lie to the left, to-morrow all to the right. Comfortable positions, such as stretching on one’s back for example, meet with a miserable protest, as well as any other after-movement; and when at length silence falls upon all, the eight men form one single lump. “The nose acts no longer merely as a condenser, as on the spring journey; it now becomes a cold-pole, and leaving it outside the rimy and icy covering is preferable to burying it in the questionable atmosphere of the sack. The mouth, as the only outlet of exhalation, must remain open, but the teeth get so cold that they feel like icicles, and the mask, which it is necessary to wear in the night, freezes to the long beard.