five o’clock
One old rooster was stirring about , pecking at the solid lump of ice in their water-tin . When we flashed the lantern in their eyes , the hens set up a great cackling and flew about clumsily , scattering down-feathers . The mottled , pin-headed guinea-hens , always resentful of captivity , ran screeching out into the tunnel and tried to poke their ugly , painted faces through the snow walls . By five o'clock the chores were done just when it was time to begin them all over again ! That was a strange , unnatural sort of day . ON THE MORNING of the twenty-second I wakened with a start . Before I opened my eyes , I seemed to know that something had happened .