so that no other dog could get to it. They are wretches, these dogs;
no day passes without a fight. In the day-time one of us is generally
at hand to stop it, but at night they seldom fail to tear and bite
one of their comrades. Poor 'Barabbas' is almost frightened out of his
wits. He stays on board now, and dares not venture on the ice, because
he knows the other monsters would set on him. There is not a trace
of chivalry about these curs. When there is a fight, the whole pack
rush like wild beasts on the loser. But is it not, perhaps, the law of
nature that the strong, and not the weak, should be protected? Have
not we human beings, perhaps, been trying to turn nature topsy-turvy
by protecting and doing our best to keep life in all the weak?

"The ice is restless, and has pressed a good deal to-day again. It
begins with a gentle crack and moan along the side of the ship, which
gradually sounds louder in every key. Now it is a high plaintive
tone, now it is a grumble, now it is a snarl, and the ship gives a
start up. The noise steadily grows till it is like all the pipes of an
organ; the ship trembles and shakes, and rises by fits and starts, or
is sometimes gently lifted. There is a pleasant, comfortable feeling
in sitting listening to all this uproar and knowing the strength of
our ship. Many a one would have been crushed long ago. But outside
the ice is ground against our ship's sides, the piles of broken-up
floe are forced under her heavy, invulnerable hull, and we lie as if
in a bed. Soon the noise begins to die down; the ship sinks into its
old position again, and presently all is silent as before. In several
places round us the ice is piled up, at one spot to a considerable
height. Towards evening there was a slackening, and we lay again in
a large, open pool.

"Thursday, October 12th. In the morning we and our floe were drifting
on blue water in the middle of a large, open lane, which stretched
far to the north, and in the north the atmosphere at the horizon was
dark and blue. As far as we could see from the crow's-nest with the
small field-glass, there was no end to the open water, with only single
pieces of ice sticking up in it here and there. These are extraordinary
changes. I wondered if we should prepare to go ahead. But they had
long ago taken the machinery to pieces for the winter, so that it
would be a matter of time to get it ready for use again. Perhaps
it would be best to wait a little. Clear weat