dulges in buttered toast
and a cup of coffee.

The Hut is dark, and a shaded burner hangs by a canvas chair in the
kitchen. The wind is booming in gusts, the dogs howl occasionally in the
veranda, but the night-watchman and his pipe are at peace with all men.
He has discarded a heavy folio for a light romance, while the hours
scud by, broken only by the observations. The romance is closed, and he
steals to his bunk with a hurricane lamp and finds a bundle of letters.
He knows them well, but he reads them--again!

Pearly light rises in the north-east through the lessening drift, and
another day has come.

CHAPTER IX MIDWINTER AND ITS WORK;

With the advent of the fateful Ides of March, winter ii had practically
set in, and work outside had a chequered career. When a few calm hours
intervened between two blizzards a general rush was made to continue
some long-standing job. Often all that could be done was to clear the
field for action, that is, dig away large accumulations of snow. Then
the furies would break loose again, and once more we would play the
waiting game, meanwhile concerning ourselves with more sedentary
occupations.

There was a familiar cry when, for some meteorological reason, the wind
would relapse into fierce gusts and then suddenly stop, to be succeeded
by intense stillness. "Dead calm, up with the wireless masts!" Every one
hastily dashed for his burberrys, and soon a crowd of muffled figures
would emerge through the veranda exit, dragging ropes, blocks, picks,
and shovels. There was no time to be lost.

So the erection of the wireless masts began in earnest on April 4,
continued feverishly till the end of the month, suffered a long period
of partial cessation during May and June, was revived in July and
August, and, by September 1, two masts, each consisting of a lower-mast
and top-mast, had been raised and stayed, while between them stretched
the aerial. For four weeks messages were sent out, and many of them were
caught by Macquarie Island. Nothing was heard in Adelie Land, although,
between certain hours, regular watches were kept at the receiver. The
aerial was about sixty-five feet from the ground, and it was resolved
to increase its height by erecting the top-gallant masts; but before
anything considerable could be done, a terrific gust of wind on October
13 broke three wire-stays, and down came the mast, broken and splintered
by the fall. That is a brief resume of the fortunes of t