was at the end of the passage, opened the door, and stood aside for them to pass through. They entered the box, looked at the horse before them, and then at each other. "Well," said Mr. Carteret, "it is easy when you know how." They were in the presence of Isabella. In shape, size, and color the other mare was her counterpart; but that this only was Isabella they knew now by her eye, by her expression, and by her simplicity of character. She was trying to get her nose into Scott's pocket, and failing in that, she nipped his hand with her lips. AN ARTIST IN THE ANTARCTIC1 BY FRANK WILBERT STOKES WITH PICTURES BY THE WRITER, THE FIRST ARTIST TO BRING FAR AR down at the nether side of the globe the little black, bark-rigged Antarctic2 rolled over lovely seas of cobalt blues and greens, bound for that dread Niflheim where "Death-dealing vapors rise From a black mist-world full of sighs." It was January 11, 1902. The temperature of the water gave unmistakable signs. At twelve minutes past 1 P.M. we sighted what seemed to be an iceberg. Gradually through the silver mist of nimbus a mountainous, snow-clad island appeared in delicate pink tones. It proved to be King George Island of the South Shetlands. Again curtained in mystery until 4:30 P.M., the golden sunlight pushed the mist aside, disclosing the island surrounded by a flotilla of majestic icebergs. It was completely snow-clad down to the edge of the dark cobalt-blue sea, where it terminated in an ice-wall two hundred feet high. This snowmantle was of a delicate white-yellow chrome, with faint cobalt-blue cloud-silhouettes creeping over its rounded surface. A few bare rocks added a deep touch of reddish-brown purple. The bergs were glistening in marvelous pink purity under the sun's rays, with rich, deep shadows of turquoise-cobalt blue. Penguins sported swiftly in the waters round the ship. This coup d'œil demonstrated a radical difference in the character of the far-South land compared with the far North. We were upon the threshold of the last great region of geographical mystery. At 5 P.M. we had approached near enough for an initial color-sketch. Landing-parties the following day found a considerable area of rock free from snow, and obtained seals and birds, some green snow, -caused by a minute plant of the same order as that of red snow,-lichen in abundance, and a new beetle. Rapidly gathering clouds obscured the sun with heavy forms and deep, cold bluegrays, and interspersings of pale, chilly yellow. A damp, penetrating wind from the northeast, with a counter ocean current, produced a choppy sea, and the spray flew over us, while the barometer fell suddenly. Passing through Nelson Strait, we rode out a gale in the cold gray-green waters of Bramfield Strait. All night the gale continued, and a heavy sea was still running on the morning of January 12. About 8 A.M. I went on deck. There, partly veiled by a drifting silvery mist, were Trinity Islands and the lofty mountains of Terre Louis Philippe, or Palmer Land. The captain, ensconced in the "crow's-nest," scanned the horizon for an opening into Weddell Sea, as we hoped nos Aires, Argentina, where it arrived December 16. At this port a young ensign of the Argentine navy joined the expedition, together with the writer. On December 21 the steam-sealer Antarctic, with the full complement of the expedition on board, left for the south, stopping at the Falkland Islands for a day, and then at the Staten Islands, off the southernmost extremity of South America, in order to correct the magnetic instruments at the meteorological station of Argentina. 521 to place the winter station on the eastern coast of King Oscar II Land. Cloud-mists obscured the land, and a raw wind and a cold gray-green sea, with hurtling masses of gray overhead, ensued. After a succession of squalls we sought the welcome shelter under the land, and, as if by the touch of a giant, Boreas fled, leaving a calm, deep-blue sea, in the waters of which whales were spouting, and dazzling ice-palaces floated in delicate tones of lilac-pink, chrome-green half-tones, and turquoise-cobalt shadows. Beyond, in imposing grandeur and beauty, was a strange mountainous land—a land of the godswrapped completely in an ice-mantle æons old. There were long vistas of gleaming, winding, tortuous glacier valleys, in blinding coruscations of silvery pink and green reflections, and jagged peaks, softened by cyclopean snow fingers, over which the magic of translucent light and shade rushed with lightning speed, obscuring and revealing in bewildering succession. A breathless silence pervaded the scene. I was busy with camera, pencil, and brush, fearful that these grandiose themes would escape, and succeeded in finishing five sketches. Charts were consulted and positions measured as we bowled along, enjoying the transition from storm to calm and comparative warmth. Some of us took boat and landed on a rocky islet as the westering sun disappeared behind grayturquoise cloud-strata and shot a path of gleaming salmon gold across the sea. Myriads of penguins waddled about in their solemnly comical fashion, and were not in the least disturbed by our presence until we walked among them, when they tried to bite our boots and struck at us with their little wings. Two penguins would waddle close to each other, and then, stretching their necks, with bills pointing upward, would sway to and fro, making a strange rasping sound, as if condoling with each other over our invasion of their territory. Cormorants sat round demurely, with beautiful snow-petrels, watching us in a leisurely, fearless manner. When one of the men shot a few for specimens, the noise made them fly a few yards, only to return and crane their necks with fearless curiosity over their comrades, and toward the tall, strange human animals who had such a loud cry. rolled a large Ross seal, which stopped a moment, and raising its small head, gave us a half-fearful, grave, questioning look from its stupid, bloodshot eyes; then it awkwardly humped and wriggled over the rocks a few yards past our feet, where it lay down and slept. The seals were entirely unaware of the presence of deadly enemies. The sensation that such a scene produces upon the mind is indeed very strange; the pathos of it is disquieting. We returned to the Antarctic at 1 P.M., with specimens of lichen, stones, and a species of moss covered with mussels. January 13. There was only a temporary setting of the sun, and the ship passed under the silent gaze of sentinel after sentinel of rock giants, hoary with age, calm and immovable amid a region of raging storms and bitter cold. The rocks of these stupendous heights, which pierced whirling cloud-masses of dark smoky blue, were varied shades of gray-blues and deep maddered purple-gray, the glaciers' brilliance of pale, pure gold eclipsing the light of the clouds. Below, the sea was calm, with only a ripple over its surface of deep-toned gray madder of an ocherish tinge. Then distant, strange murmurings were borne through the air, and the black bodies and flukes of cetaceans moved into view, then dived down into the silence of the deep. It was with some effort that I found energy enough to paint a large sketch of a bold unknown headland, as our little vessel turned northward. There was much discussion as to where we were. The captain believed we were in a large fiord east of Danco Land, but later it was discovered that we had been in Belgica Strait, opposite Schlautter Channel and Antwerp Island, the northeast promontory of which I had sketched. The night came as a very bright twilight. After landing upon Danco Land, we succeeded in passing eastward through a strait between Capes Donbuzet and Kimnes, of Terre Louis Philippe on the north, and Danco Land on the south. The sky was blue and the sea was blue, and the sun shimmered gold all around. The land was mountainous on each hand, and from 1500 to 2000 feet in height, covered by a snowmantle of brilliant pale yellow and pinkish lilac. The sea was flecked with a few large tabular bergs of pale lilac. Ahead, to starPresently, with the wash of a wave, in board, giant cliffs of reddish-purple basalt |
