We have been fishing through the sounding hole to-day with hooks, but our efforts proved disappointing. The hooks, when we raised the complicated deep-sea apparatus, were missing. Either some submarine monsters have taken the hooks or they have dragged on a rocky bottom. The temperature at 9 A. M. was -12° C., and the weather shows signs of clearing, though the wind is veering northerly. It is remarkable how a little incident, especially one surrounded by some mystery when brought suddenly into our horizon, will arouse great excitement. This does not often happen, which accounts for the air of lethargy and disinterestedness which is coming over us with the increase of darkness. The weird outline of the dying face of the setting sun a few days ago, and the premonitions of the seventy sunless days through which we are now to pass, aroused a new sensation. The extraordinary effects of the moon, vague lights and shadows on the horizon, indicating the possible outline of a new land; an occasional peak of a new iceberg coming into our plane of vision; the uncommon changes of the auroras, of the weather, and the visit of a penguin or a seal, all incite new life, but the inspiration is of short duration. In a few hours the soul sinks again into its sleep which is induced by the long night of months. This morning, however, there was an incident which startled everybody in a manner quite unusual. At about seven o’clock the captain went out to find two stars from which to obtain an observation for position. The sky was too hazy to give him an observation, but his eye rested upon an inexplicable speck of light in the west. He stood and looked at it for some moments. It did not change in position, but sparkled now and then like a star. The thing came suddenly, disappeared and again reappeared in exactly the same spot. It was so curious and assumed so much the nature of a surprise, that Lecointe came into the cabin and announced the news. We accused him of having had too early an eye-opener, but we went out quickly to see the mystery. It was about eight o’clock; the sky was a streaky mouse colour. The ice was gray, with a slight suggestion of lilac in the high lights, but the entire outline of the pack was vague under a very dark twilight. We looked for some time in the direction in which Lecointe pointed, but we saw only a gloomy waste of ice, lined in places by breaks in the pack from which oozed a black cloud of vapour. We were not sure that the captain’s eyesight was not defective, and began to blackguard him afresh.