On the morning of the 16th several of us went to the crow’s-nest to get a bird’s-eye view of the pack. Only two could rest in the nest at one time, and at best it is a shivery roost, but Arctowski and I resolved to enter it this morning and there spend an hour in study and philosophy. We climbed up over a series of rope ladders which were coated with an inch of hoar-frost in large crystals. The metallic jingle of these crystals made a music full of curious interest, and the gem-like glitter of the masts fired by the silvery beams, as the sun rose over the white splendour of the pack, was a sight which made us hesitate to tread on the bejewelled ropes. Arctowski entered the bottom of the barrel first and quickly kicked and pushed out the frost, sending down a cloud of ice which covered my face and sent streams of sharp crystals down my back. We had been in the crow’s-nest some minutes surveying the splendour of the widened horizon before we began to talk and discuss the situation. On deck there had been no wind, but here there is a little air coming from all directions; now from the south, now from the north, and again from the east or the west. This we regard as a certain sign of an immediate change in the weather. There is also a restlessness in the pack which is an equally certain indication of a change. The water-sky, which we saw yesterday, has extended considerably. The ice is spreading out in some directions, leaving large open lanes of bright blue sea with a metallic lustre. The width of these lanes is from ten to fifty feet, and they extend northerly as far as the eye can reach. Many of these expanses of water offer us a free highway out of our present dilemma. Over the beam, within three hundred yards, there is a river-like stream, but we cannot get to it. In a direction at right angles to these lanes there is considerable pressure. This is shown by the many lines of hummocks raised on the edges of the floes. [Illustration: Eight Successive Phases of an Exhibit of Aurora Australis, March 19, 1898.] We have taken a few pictures of this bird’s-eye view of the site (which later proved to be our winter home), but these in black and white are poor illustrations of the pack which is always flooded with curious colours, in unique blends, and soft shades. At this time the sun burst through a torn space in a gathering blackness northward, and sent her beams lightly to the ice, making each pan as luminous as if frosted with a covering of diamonds. The edges of these pans are raised by contact with neighbouring pans. Suspended from these elevations are icicles, and over and under these the ice is charged with yellow sea algæ, making a ring of gold around the gem-strewn floes. In a few places the water is covered with a green lacework of new ice, and everywhere there is a delicate suggestion of lilac, raising the high lights, colouring the shadows, and saturating the air with a mysterious luminosity.