IN A SNOW BANK. cover, and went behind the snow wall to help the cooks with their fire.
The poor dogs were almost buried out of sight. They had all crouched together in a heap; and as the drift accumulated over them they poked their heads further and further up into it; and when I came to count them to see if any had left us and run back to the ship or been frozen to death, it was truly counting noses. There were fourteen of them.
It seems rather strange to be writing on at this rate in a snow-hut, but the truth is I have no more trouble in writing here than if I were in my cabin. The temperature has come up almost to the freezing point, and it is a great relief to write. What else should I do? I have two small books which I have brought along for just such emergencies as this, and while my companions play cards and bet gingerbread and oyster suppers and bottles of rum to be paid in Boston, I find nothing better to do than read and write; and, since I cannot remain unoccupied, but must kill time in some manner, or else sleep, suppose I describe this den in the snow-bank.
It is a pit eighteen feet long by eight wide and four deep. Over the top of said pit are placed the boat-oars, to support the sledge, which is laid across them; and over the sledge is thrown the boat's sail; and over the sail is thrown loose snow. In one end of the den thus formed there is a hole, through which we crawl in, and which is now filled up tightly with blocks of snow. Over the floor (if the term is admissible) there is spread a strip of India-rubber cloth; over this cloth a strip of buffalo-skins, which are all squared and sewed together; and over this again another just like it. When we want to sleep we
