COMFORT OF OUR QUARTERS.
- ing to sleep her "pretty one." On the opposite side
is our butcher-shop, where are piled up a lot of frozen reindeer, awaiting Marcus and Jacob,—the butchers. Near by stands our portable forge and anvil, where McCormick is forever blowing the hot embers and pounding at nobody knows what. Dodge says "he is killing time." Under the window amidships stands the carpenter's bench and the vice, where Christian, Jensen, Peter, and Hans are always tinkering at some hunting or sledge implements,—while, mingling promiscuously on the deck, the officers and men may be seen smoking their pipes, and apparently intent only upon as little exertion and as much amusement as the Arctic night will give them. A cheerful light bursts up from below through the hatchways, bringing with it many a cheerful laugh. Around the mainmast stands our gun-rack, and near by is a neat arrangement of McCormick's where every man has a peg for his fur coat, as we do not bring these things below, on account of the great change of temperature producing dampness in them.
November 2d.
The barometer, which yesterday sank to 29.58, has been steadily rising since, and stands now at 29.98, giving us thus a reasonable assurance that the gale will come to an end by and by, and let the travelers off. The gale has made wild work with the ice, breaking it up and driving it out to the southwest until the open water is within two miles of the schooner. The "twins" are right upon the margin of it, and, were they not aground, would float away. One of Sonntag's base-line stations has drifted off, and the bear-trap has followed after it, carrying away my fine ice-anchor. Strange, the loose ice has all drifted out of
