expected event, lulled as we were into security by the fact
that May, the worst month, had passed. On examination it was found that
two of the topmast wire stays had chafed through, whilst another had
parted. At first it seemed a hopeless task to re-erect the mast, but
gradually ways and means were discussed, and we waited for the first
calm day to put the theories into execution.

Meanwhile, it was suggested that if a heavy kite were made and induced
to fly in the continuous winds, the aerial thus provided would be
sufficient to receive wireless messages. To this end, Bage and Bickerton
set to work, and the first invention was a Venesta-box kite which was
tried in a steady seventy-mile wind. Despite its weight,--at least ten
pounds --the kite rose immediately, steadied by guys on either side, and
then suddenly descended with a crash on to the glacier ice. After the
third fall the kite was too battered to be of any further use. Another
device, in which an empty carbide tin was employed, and still another,
making use of an old propeller, shared the same fate.

On the evening of the 19th a perfect coloured corona, three degrees
in diameter, was observed encircling the moon in a sky which lit up at
intervals with dancing auroral curtains. Coronae or "glories," which
closely invest the luminary, are due to diffraction owing to immense
numbers of very minute water or ice particles floating in the air
between the observer and the source of light. The larger the particles
the smaller the corona, so that by a measurement of the diameter of a
corona the size of the particles can be calculated. Earlier in the
year, a double corona had been seen when the moon was shining through
cirro-cumulus clouds. Haloes, on the other hand, are wide circles (or
arcs of circles) in the sky surrounding the sun or moon, and arising
from light-refraction in myriads of tiny ice-crystals suspended in
the atmosphere. They were very commonly noted in Adelie Land where the
conditions were so ideal for their production.

Midwinter's Day 1913! we had reached a turning-point in the season.
The Astronomer Royal told us that at eight o'clock on June 22 the sun
commenced to return, and every one took note of the fact. The sky was
overcast, the air surcharged with drifting snow, and the wind was forty
miles an hour--a representative day as far as the climate was concerned.
The cook made a special effort and the menu bore the following foreword:

Now is