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and take such an interest in us; but they and the seals are our only fresh meat.

Sunday, March 5.—We have put in a good week's work, thanks to fine weather. The hut was ready and we moved in last night, and celebrated the occasion with a great house-warming. We have also had time to put up the meteorological screen and dig a beautiful ice-house in a small stranded berg on the south shore. Unfortunately, the day after the larder was filled a big surf came rolling in and the berg began to break up. We had only just time to rescue the forty penguins with which we had stocked it, and carry the little corpses to a near ice-house built of empty cases filled with ice and well out of reach of the sea. The whole beach we are on is a penguin rookery in summer, and has been so for generations. We are constantly reminded of it—in fact so forcibly is this so inside the hut, that before putting down the floor Levick dressed the ground with bleaching-powder. He did this so thoroughly, and inhaled so much of the gas, that he had to retire to his bunk blind in both eyes, with a bad sore throat and all the symptoms of a heavy cold in his head.

This afternoon Abbott, Priestley, Levick, and I climbed to the top of Cape Adare, and certainly the view over the bay was lovely, the east side of the peninsula descending in a sheer cliff to the Ross Sea. We collected some fine bits of quartz and erratic boulders about 1000 feet up, and Levick got some good photographs of the Admiralty Range. On the way down I found some green alga on the rocks.