knowledge which I have yet to
acquire. Why do you look perplexed, Butterface?"

"'Cause, massa, you's too deep for me altogidder. My brain no big
'nough to hold it all."

"And your skull's too thick to let it through to the little blob of
brain that you do possess," said Benjy with a kindly-contemptuous look
at his sable friend. "Oh! flatnose, you're a terrible thick-head."

"You's right dere, massa," replied the negro, with a gratified smile at
what he deemed a compliment. "You should ha' seed me dat time when I
was leetle boy down in Ole Virginny, whar dey riz me, when my gran'moder
she foun' me stickin' my fist in de molasses-jar an' lickin' it off.
She swarmed at me an' fetch me one kick, she did, an' sent me slap troo
a pannel ob de loft door, an' tumbled me down de back stair, whar I
felled over de edge an' landed on de top ob a tar barrel w'ich my head
run into. I got on my legs, I did, wiv difficulty, an' runned away
never a bit de worse--not even a headache--only it was tree months afore
I got dat tar rightly out o' my wool. Yes, my head's t'ick _'nough_."

While Butterface was speaking, Leo and the Captain were seen
approaching, and the three rose to meet them. There was a grave
solemnity in the Captain's look which alarmed them.

"Nothing wrong I hope, uncle?" said Alf.

"Wrong! no, lad, there's nothing wrong. On the contrary, everything is
right. Why, where do you think we have got to?"

"A hundred and fifty miles from the Pole," said Alf.

"Less, less," said Leo, with an excited look.

"We are not more," said the Captain slowly, as he took off his hat and
wiped his brow, "not more than a hundred and forty miles from it."

"Then we could be there in three days or sooner, with a good breeze,"
cried Benjy, whose enthusiasm was aroused.

"Ay, Ben, if there was nothing in the way; but it's quite clear from
what Chingatok says, that we are drawing near to his native land, which
cannot be more than fifty miles distant, if so much. You remember he
has told us his home is one of a group of islands, some of which are
large and some small; some mountainous and others flat and swampy,
affording food and shelter to myriads of wild-fowl; so, you see, after
we get there our progress northward through such a country, without
roads or vehicles, won't be at the rate of ten miles an hour by any
means."

"Besides," added Leo, "it would not be polite to Chingatok's countrymen
if we were to leave them im