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THE ASCENT OF MOUNT EREBUS. hanging straight down our backs, with the foot of the bag curled upwards and outwards, resembled the scorpion men of the Assyrian sculptures: others marched with their household gods done up in the form of huge sausages; yet another presented Sindbad, with the place of the ‘Old Man of the Sea’ taken by a huge brown bag, stuffed with all our cooking utensils; this bag had a knack of suddenly slipping off his shoulders, and bow-stringing him around his neck.

There were not enough crampons for the whole party, and when we arrived at the steep hard snow slopes of the main cone, many were the slips, and nautical and naughty the expletives. At one of these snow slopes Mackay, who was in the van, and was cutting steps in the hard snow with his ice axe, slipped suddenly and glissaded with his heavy load for about a hundred feet, when fortunately his downward career was checked by a projecting ledge of snow. It was hard going, but borne up by ‘hoosh’, hope, and chocolate, we succeeded in reaching in the evening a small recess in a rocky aréte, 8,750 feet above sea level.

When we turned into our sleeping bags, directly after tea at 8-30 p. m., the temperature was -20° Fahr.; the sunset had been clear and glorious, but an ominous cloud was creeping down upon us from the