“It has occurred to me,” he said to them, “to build a lighthouse at the top of the cone up there.”
“A lighthouse?” they cried.
“Yes, a lighthouse; it will be of use to show us our way back at night when we are returning from distant excursions, and to light up the neighborhood in the eight months of winter.”
“Certainly,” answered Altamont, “such an apparatus would be useful; but how will you build it?”
“With one of the Porpoise’s lanterns.”
“Very good; but with what will you feed the lamp? With seal-oil?”
“No; it doesn’t give a bright enough light; it could hardly pierce the fog.”
“Do you think you can get hydrogen from our coal and make illuminating gas?”
“Well, that light would not be bright enough, and it would be wrong to use up any of our fuel.”
“Then,” said Altamont, “I don’t see—”
“As for me,” answered Johnson, “since the bullet of mercury, the ice lens, the building of Fort Providence, I believe Dr. Clawbonny is capable of anything.”
“Well,” resumed Altamont, “will you tell us what sort of a light you are going to have?”
“It’s very simple,” answered the doctor; “an electric light.”
“An electric light!”
“Certainly; didn’t you have on board of the Porpoise a Bunsen’s pile in an uninjured state?”
“Yes,” answered the American.
“Evidently, when you took it, you intended to make some experiments, for it is complete. You have the necessary acid, and the wires isolated, hence it would be easy for us to get an electric light. It will be more brilliant, and will cost nothing.”
“That is perfect,” answered the boatswain, “and the less time we lose—”
“Well, the materials are there,” answered the doctor, “and in an hour we shall have a column ten feet high, which will be enough.”
The doctor went out; his companions followed him to the top of the cone; the column was promptly built and was soon surmounted by one of the Porpoise’s lanterns. Then the doctor arranged the conducting wires which were connected with the pile; this was placed in the parlor of the icehouse, and was preserved from the frost by the heat of the stoves. From there the wires ran to the lantern. All this was quickly done, and they waited till sunset to judge of the effect. At night the two charcoal points, kept at a proper distance apart in the lantern, were brought together, and flashes of brilliant light, which the wind could neither make flicker nor extinguish, issued from the lighthouse. It was a noteworthy sight, these sparkling rays, rivalling the brilliancy of the plains, and defining sharply the outlines of the surrounding objects. Johnson could not help clapping his hands.
“Dr. Clawbonny,” he said, “has made another sun!”
“One ought to do a little of everything,” answered the doctor, modestly.
The cold put an end to the general admiration, and each man hastened back to his coverings.
After this time life was regularly organized. During the following days, from the 15th to the 20th of April, the weather was very uncertain; the temperature fell suddenly twenty degrees, and the atmosphere experienced severe changes, at times being full of snow and squally, at other times cold and dry, so that no one could set foot outside without precautions. However, on Saturday, the wind began to fall; this circumstance made an expedition possible; they resolved accordingly to devote a day to hunting, in order to renew their provisions. In the morning, Altamont, the doctor, Bell, each one taking a double-barrelled gun, a proper amount of food, a hatchet, a snow-knife in case they should have to dig a shelter, set out under a cloudy sky. During their absence Hatteras was to explore the coast and take their bearings. The doctor took care to start the light; its rays were very bright; in fact, the electric light, being equal to that of three thousand candles or three hundred gas-jets, is the only one which at all approximates to the solar light.
The cold was sharp, dry, and still. The hunters set out towards Cape Washington, finding their way made easier over the hardened snow. In about half an hour they had made the three miles which separated the cape from Fort Providence. Duke was springing about them. The coast inclined to the east, and the lofty summits of Victoria Bay tended to grow lower toward the north. This made them believe that New America was perhaps only an island; but they did not have then to concern themselves with its shape. The hunters took the route by the sea and went forward rapidly. There was no sign of life, no trace of any building; they were walking over a virgin soil. They thus made about fifteen miles in the first three hours, eating without stopping to rest; but they seemed likely to find no sport. They saw very few traces of hare, fox, or wolf. Still, a few snowbirds flew here and there, announcing the return of spring and the arctic animals. The three companions had been compelled to go inland to get around some deep ravines and some pointed rocks which ran down from Bell Mountain; but after a few delays they succeeded in regaining the shore; the ice had not yet separated. Far from it. The sea remained fast; still a few traces of seals announced the beginning of their visit, and that they were already come to breathe at the surface of the ice-field. It was evident from the large marks, the fresh breaking of the ice, that many had very recently been on the land. These animals are very anxious for the rays of the sun, and they like to bask on the shore in the sun’s heat. The doctor called his companions’ attention to these facts.
“Let us notice this place,” he said. “It is very possible that in summer we shall find hundreds of seals here; they can be approached and caught without
