June 7.--We have made a bag of sail-cloth, and into it the remains of Danco have been sewn. This morning we searched the crevasses for an opening which might serve as a grave. We found no place sufficiently open, but with axes and chisels we cut an aperture through the young ice in a recent lead, about one hundred yards from the bark. Owing to the depressing effect upon the party, we found it necessary to place the body outside on the ice upon a sledge the day after the death. At a few minutes before noon to-day the commandant, followed by the officers and scientific staff, came to this sledge. The crew, dressed in an outer suit of duck, then marched out and, taking the drag rope, they proceeded over the rough drifts southerly to the lead. The day was bitterly cold, with a wind coming out of the south-west. Much snow in fine crystals was driven through the air, and it pierced the skin like needles. The surface of the ice was gray, but the sky had here and there a touch of brightness. In the north there was a feeble metallic glow, and directly overhead there were a few stratus of rose-coloured clouds. The moon, fiery, with a ragged edge, hung low on the southern sky. There was light enough to read ordinary print, but it was a weird light. Danco was a favourite among the sailors, and his departure was as keenly felt in the forecastle as among us. The men expressed this in the funeral procession. Slowly but steadily they marched over the rough surface of the ice with an air of inexpressible sadness. The sledge was brought to the freezing water. Here the commandant made a few fitting remarks, and then two heavy weights were attached to the feet, and the body was entrusted to the frosted bosom of the antarctic ocean. June 8.--The melancholy death, and the incidents of the melancholy burial of Danco, have brought over us a spell of despondency which we seem unable to conquer. I fear that this feeling will remain with us for some time, and we can ill afford it. Though there are none among us sick at this time, we may at any moment have small complaints which will become serious under this death-dealing spell of despair. We are constantly picturing to ourselves the form of our late companion floating about in a standing position, with the weights to his feet, under the frozen surface and perhaps under the _Belgica_.