, or ought to have, a good understanding of the nature of ice, and
the danger should be great indeed that would necessitate the leaving of
their tools behind them."

A roar like that of a bull of Bashan, or a boatswain, here interrupted
the conversation.

"Don't plant your post the-r-r-re," shouted Captain Wopper from the
banks of the ice-river, "the Professor says the ice ain't firm enough.
Heave ahead--to where its ha-a-ard an' fa-a-ast."

"Ay, ay, sir," shouted Lawrence, with nautical brevity, in reply.

The next stake was accordingly fixed on a part of the ice which was
obviously incapable of what might be called a local slip, and which
must, if it moved at all, do so in accordance with the movements of the
entire glacier.

Thus one by one the stakes were planted in a perfectly straight line, so
that when Captain Wopper was requested by the Professor to look through
the telescope--which he did with a seaman's readiness and precision--he
observed that all the stakes together appeared to form but one stake,
the bottom of which was touched on one side of the Mer de Glace by the
centre-point of the crossed threads, and, on the other, by the extreme
point of the "Dook" of Wellington's nose. The last stake had been fixed
not many yards distant from the opposite bank of the glacier.

"Now," said the Professor, with a deep sigh of satisfaction when all
this was accomplished and noted, "we will go have our luncheon and
return hither to-morrow to observe the result of our experiments. But
first we must fix the exact position of our theodolite, for unless it
occupies to a hair's-breadth to-morrow the same position which it
occupies to-day, the result will be quite inconclusive."

So saying, the man of science took a little line and plummet from his
pocket, which he hung under the theodolite, and the spot where the
plummet touched the ground was carefully marked by a small stake driven
quite down to its head.

Thereafter an attempt was made to gather together the scattered party,
but this was difficult. Owing to various causes several members of it
had become oblivious of time. Emma had forgotten time in the pursuit of
wild-flowers, of which she was excessively fond, partly because she had
learned to press and classify and write their proper names under them,
but chiefly because they were intrinsically lovely, and usually grew in
the midst of beautiful scenery. Nita had forgotten it in the pursuit of
Emma, of whom