These, with penguin feathers and a little grit from the floor,
occasionally savour the hooshes. Thank heaven man is an adaptable
brute! If we dwell sufficiently long in this hut, we are likely to
alter our method of walking, for our ceiling, which is but four feet
six inches high at its highest part, compels us to walk bent double or
on all fours.
"Our doorway--Cheetham is just crawling in now, bringing a shower of
snow with him--was originally a tent entrance. When one wishes to go
out, one unties the cord securing the door, and crawls or wriggles out,
at the same time exclaiming 'Thank goodness I'm in the open air!' This
should suffice to describe the atmosphere inside the hut, only pleasant
when charged with the overpowering yet appetizing smell of burning
penguin steaks.
"From all parts there dangles an odd collection of blubbery garments,
hung up to dry, through which one crawls, much as a chicken in an
incubator. Our walls of tent-canvas admit as much light as might be
expected from a closed Venetian blind. It is astonishing how we have
grown accustomed to inconveniences, and tolerate, at least, habits
which a little time back were regarded with repugnance. We have no
forks, but each man has a sheath-knife and a spoon, the latter in many
cases having been fashioned from a piece of box lid.
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