April 3.--The same haze of suspended ice crystals is being driven over the pack, filling up the chasms and rounding all the sharp edges of the hummocks. The temperature is -22° C. and the wind is due south, sending the ice-laden clouds over the crusted snow with a metallic ring. As the sun rose through this mist this morning we saw a variety of parhelia, with bright crescentic patches, changing rapidly in brilliancy and form as the sun ascended. At four in the afternoon the moon rose again through this icy mist. In colour and form it was the most remarkable lunar aspect I ever saw. First, as it came over the horizon, its size seemed so much above what we were accustomed to that we did not easily guess it was the moon. After it rose clear of the ice-line it took a wrinkled, distorted form, which in shape and colour resembled an old withered orange. April 4.--There has been a great excitement to-day--one which has forced a new interest into the usual sameness of the daily dry routine. The woodwork about the pipe of the cabin stove became ignited, and for a few seconds there was a cry of “fire” and a great scramble for water. Amundsen, with admirable presence of mind, drew out the pipe from the deck and then smothered the flames with snow, while the rest of us hustled about for water, which is always scarce on the _Belgica_. The captain was able to get an observation of the sun to-day at noon, from which he fixes our position at latitude 71° 22′ 15″, longitude 84° 54′ 45″. A sounding was made which proved the depth of the sea 530 metres. Although the sky has been fairly clear, at noon a steady easterly wind was driving over the pack, sending sharp-edged crystals across the ship with a cutting force. The temperature ranges from -17° to -20° C. In the past forty-eight hours we have drifted northward nine miles, and eastward about eight miles. The wind, coming as it does now with a steady blow, will probably send us drifting westward with a rapid pace.