So that all should benefit equally by this, a sort of "General Post" was carried out, each man occupying his place at meal-times for one day only, moving up one the succeeding day.

In this way eventually every man managed to dry his clothes, and life began to assume a much brighter aspect.
The great trouble in the hut was the absence of light.

The canvas walls were covered with blubber-soot, and with the snowdrifts accumulating round the hut its inhabitants were living in a state of perpetual night.

Lamps were fashioned out of sardine-tins, with bits of surgical bandage for wicks; but as the oil consisted of seal-oil rendered down from the blubber, the remaining fibrous tissue being issued very sparingly at lunch, by the by, and being considered a great delicacy, they were more a means of conserving the scanty store of matches than of serving as illuminants.
Wild was the first to overcome this difficulty by sewing into the canvas wall the glass lid of a chronometer box.

Later on three other windows were added, the material in this case being some celluloid panels from a photograph case of mine which I had left behind in a bag.
This enabled the occupants of the floor billets who were near enough to read and sew, which relieved the monotony of the situation considerably.
"Our reading material consisted at this time of two books of poetry, one book of 'Nordenskjold's Expedition,' one or two torn volumes of the 'Encyclopaedia Britannica,' and a penny cookery book, owned by Marston.
Our clothes, though never presentable, as they bore the scars of nearly ten months of rough usage, had to be continually patched to keep them together at all." As the floor of the hut had been raised by the addition of loads of clean pebbles, from which most of the snow had been removed, during the cold weather it was kept comparatively dry.