men had never been able to support such a temperature. The ice spread
itself in long tarnished mirrors on the floor; a thick fog invaded
the common room; the damp fell in thick snow; they could no longer
see one another; the extremities became blue as the heat of the body
left them; a circle of iron seemed to be clasping their heads, and
made them nearly delirious. A still more fearful symptom was that
their tongues could no longer articulate a word.

From the day they had threatened to burn his ship, Hatteras paced
the deck for hours. He was guarding his treasures; the wood of the
ship was his own flesh, and whoever cut a piece off cut off one of
his limbs. He was armed, and mounted guard, insensible to the cold,
the snow, and the ice, which stiffened his garments and enveloped
him in granite armour. His faithful Dick accompanied him, and seemed
to understand why he was there.

However, on Christmas Day he went down to the common room. The doctor,
taking advantage of what energy he had left, went straight to him,
and said--

"Hatteras, we shall all die if we get no fuel."

"Never!" said Hatteras, knowing what was coming.

"We must," said the doctor gently.

"Never!" repeated Hatteras with more emphasis still. "I will never
consent! They can disobey me if they like!"

Johnson and Bell took advantage of the half-permission, and rushed
on deck. Hatteras heard the wood crack under the axe. He wept. What
a Christmas Day for Englishmen was that on board the _Forward_! The
thought of the great difference between their position and that of
the happy English families who rejoiced in their roast beef, plum
pudding, and mince pies added another pang to the miseries of the
unfortunate crew. However, the fire put a little hope and confidence
into the men; the boiling of coffee and tea did them good, and the
next week passed less miserably, ending the dreadful year 1860; its
early winter had defeated all Hatteras's plans.

On the 1st of January, 1861, the doctor made a discovery. It was not
quite so cold, and he had resumed his interrupted studies; he was
reading Sir Edward Belcher's account of his expedition to the Polar
Seas; all at once a passage struck him; he read it again and again.
It was where Sir Edward Belcher relates that after reaching the
extremity of Queen's Channel he had discovered important traces of
the passage and residence of men. "They were," said he, "very superior
habitations to those which might be