The skin roof, stretched tightly as a drumhead, I had thought, sagged and bellied with every gust; and innumerable interstices in the walls, not so tightly stuffed with moss as Maud had supposed, disclosed themselves.

Yet the seal-oil burned brightly and we were warm and comfortable.
It was a pleasant evening indeed, and we voted that as a social function on Endeavour Island it had not yet been eclipsed.

Our minds were at ease.

Not only had we resigned ourselves to the bitter winter, but we were prepared for it.

The seals could depart on their mysterious journey into the south at any time, now, for all we cared; and the storms held no terror for us.