Next morning the ice-plain was crossed at a swinging gallop. Indeed, the dogs were so fresh and frisky after a good rest and a hearty meal that they ran away more than once, and it became a matter of extreme difficulty to check them. At last the great chain was reached, and the party came to an abrupt halt at the base of one of the largest of the bergs. Captain Vane gazed up at it as Napoleon the First may be supposed to have gazed at the Alps he had resolved to scale and cross.

 

The resemblance to alpine scenery was not confined to mere form—such as towering peaks and mighty precipices—for there were lakelets and ponds here and there up among the crystal heights, from which rivulets trickled, streams brawled, and cataracts thundered.

 

It was evident, however, that the old giant that frowned on them was verging towards dissolution, for he was honey-combed in all directions.

 

“Impossible to scale that,” said Alf, with a solemn look.

 

Even Leo’s sanguine temperament was dashed for a moment. “We dare not attempt to cut through it,” he said, “for masses are falling about here and there in a very dangerous fashion.”

 

As he spoke, a tall spire was seen to slip from its position, topple over, and go crashing down into a dark blue gulf of ice below it.

 

“No chance of success now,” said Benjamin Vane, gloomily.

 

“None wotsomediver,” muttered Butterface, his broad black visage absolutely elongated by sympathetic despair. For, you must know, as far as his own feelings were concerned, sympathy alone influenced him. Personally, he was supremely indifferent about reaching the North Pole. In fact he did not believe in it at all, and made no scruple of saying so, when asked, but he seldom volunteered his opinion, being an extremely modest and polite man.

 

During these desponding remarks Captain Vane did not seem to be much depressed.

 

“Anders,” he said, turning abruptly to the interpreter, “ask Chingatok what he thinks. Can we pass this barrier, and, if not, what would he advise us to do?”

 

It was observed that the other Eskimos drew near with anxious looks to hear the opinion of their chief.

 

Toolooha and Tekkona, however, seemed quite devoid of anxiety. They evidently had perfect confidence in the giant, and poor little Oblooria glanced up in the face of her friend as if to gather consolation from her looks.

 

Chingatok, after a short pause, said:—

 

“The ice-mountains cannot be passed. The white men have not wings; they cannot fly. They must return to land, and travel for many days to the open water near the far-off land—there.”

分享到：