“We have supplies for only three weeks,” answered Hatteras, without raising his head.
“Well,” continued Johnson, “we must make that distance in three weeks, since it’s our only chance of safety; if we have to crawl on our knees at the end, we must leave, and arrive in twenty-five days.”
“This part of the northern continent is not known,” answered Hatteras. “We may meet obstacles, such as mountains and glaciers, which will completely bar our progress.”
“I don’t consider that,” answered the doctor, “a sufficient reason for not attempting the journey; evidently, we shall suffer a great deal; we ought to reduce our daily supply to the minimum, unless luck in hunting—”
“There’s only half a pound of powder left,” answered Hatteras.
“Come, Hatteras,” resumed the doctor, “I know the weight of all your objections, and I don’t nourish any vain hopes. But I think I can read your thoughts; have you any practicable plan?”
“No,” answered the captain, after a few moments’ hesitation.
“You do not doubt our courage,” continued the doctor; “we are willing to follow you to the last, you know very well; but should we not now abandon all hope of reaching the Pole? Mutiny has overthrown your plans; you fought successfully against natural obstacles, but not against the weakness and perfidy of men; you have done all that was humanly possible, and I am sure you would have succeeded; but, in the present condition of affairs, are you not compelled to give up your project, and in order to take it up again, should you not try to reach England without delay?”
“Well, Captain?” asked Johnson, when Hatteras had remained a long time silent.
At last the captain raised his head, and said in a constrained tone—
“Do you think you are sure of reaching the shore of the sound, tired as you are, and almost without food?”
“No,” answered the doctor; “but it’s sure the shore won’t come to us; we must go to it. Perhaps we shall find to the south tribes of Eskimo who may aid us.”
“Besides,” added Johnson, “may we not find in the sound some ship that has been forced to winter there.”
“And if need be,” continued the doctor, “when we’ve reached the sound, may we not cross it, and reach the west coast of Greenland, and then, either by Prudhoe’s Land, or Cape York, get to some Danish settlement? Nothing of that sort is to be found on the ice-field. The way to England is down there to the south, and not here to the north!”
“Yes,” said Bell, “Dr. Clawbonny is right; we must go, and go at once. Hitherto we have forgotten home too much, and those who are dear to us.”
“Do you agree, Johnson?” Hatteras asked again.
“Yes, Captain.”
“And you, Doctor?”
“Yes, Hatteras.”
Hatteras still remained silent; in spite of all he could do, his face expressed his agitation. His whole life depended on the decision he should take; if he should return, it was all over with his bold plans; he could not hope to make the attempt a fourth time.
The doctor, seeing the captain was silent, again spoke.
“I ought to add, Hatteras,” he said, “that we ought not to lose an instant; we ought to load the sledge with all our provisions, and take as much wood as possible. A journey of six hundred miles under such circumstances is long, I confess, but not insuperable; we can, or rather we ought, to make twenty miles a day, which would bring us to the coast in a month, that is to say, towards March 26th.”
“But,” said Hatteras, “can’t we wait a few days?”
“What do you hope for?” answered Johnson.
“I don’t know. Who can foretell the future? Only a few days yet! It’s hardly enough to rest your wearied bodies. We couldn’t go two stages without dropping from weariness, without any snow-house to shelter us!”
“But a terrible death certainly awaits us here!” cried Bell.
“My friends,” continued Hatteras in a tone almost of entreaty, “you are despairing too soon! I should propose to seek safety to the north, were it not that you would refuse to follow me. And yet are there not Eskimo near the Pole, as well as at Smith’s Sound? That open sea, of which the existence is uncertain, ought to surround a continent. Nature is logical in everything it does. Well, we ought to believe that vegetation appears when the greatest cold ceases. Is there not a promised land awaiting us at the north, and which you want to fly from without hope of return?”
Hatteras warmed as he spoke; his heated imagination called up enchanting visions of these countries, whose existence was still so problematical.
“One more day,” he repeated, “a single hour!”
Dr. Clawbonny, with his adventurous character and his glowing imagination, felt himself gradually aroused; he was about to yield; but Johnson, wiser and colder, recalled him to reason and duty.
“Come, Bell,” he said, “to the sledge!”
“Come along!” answered Bell.
The two sailors turned towards the door of the snow-house.
“Oh Johnson! you! you!” shouted Hatteras. “Well, go! I shall stay!”
“Captain!” said Johnson, stopping in spite of himself.
“I shall stay, I say! Go! leave me like the rest! Go!—Come, Duke, we two shall stay!”
The brave dog joined his master, barking. Johnson looked at the doctor. He did not know what to do; the best plan was to calm Hatteras, and to sacrifice a day to his fancies. The doctor was about making up his mind to this effect, when he felt someone touch his arm.
He turned round. The American had just left the place where he had been lying; he was crawling on the floor; at last he rose to his knees, and from his swollen lips a few inarticulate sounds issued.
The doctor, astonished, almost frightened, gazed at him silently. Hatteras approached the American, and examined him closely. He tried to make out the words which the poor fellow could not pronounce. At
