BY WAY OF INTRODUCTION

CRUISING, some years ago, across the Southern Ocean, we encountered ice in latitudes in which, at that time of the year, ice is seldom seen. For some hours we were entirely surrounded by it. A few of us, gathered in the stern after dark, were amusing ourselves by speculating, in an amateurish kind of way, as to the points of the compass ad the bearing of the ship. The problem was suddenly solved. Piercing the gloom about us, two bright points of light gleamed over the virgin shoulder of one of the bergs, looking as cold and glassy as the ice itself.

 ‘The Pointers!’ exclaimed one member of the party, pointing to them; and, surely enough, in a few moments, the Southern Cross itself burst upon our view, looking, in those seas, particularly splendid. 

 Everybody in these Austral lands knows the Pointers. Strictly speaking, they are no part of the Southern Cross; but they point to it; and he who catches sight of them looks wistfully for the glittering Cross itself.

 Somehow, this experience of years ago rushes back upon my mind as I lift my pen from these pages. The papers that I have written possess no value or important of their own; but they point to things that no man can afford to miss: that is their only glory.

FRANK W. BOREHAM

Armadale, Melbourne, Australia.
Easter, 1925

CONTENTS

PART 1