he sledges brought from England,
load them with what we require, and follow up the Eskimos. You're sure,
Anders, that you understood Chingatok's description of the place?"

The interpreter declared that he was quite sure.

"After that," resumed the Captain, "I'll act according to the
information the said Eskimos can give me. D'ye know, I have a strong
suspicion that our Arctic giant Chingatok is a philosopher, if I may
judge from one or two questions he put and observations he made when we
first met. He says he has come from a fine country which lies far--very
far--to the north of this; so far that I feel quite interested and
hopeful about it. I expect to have more talk with him soon on the
subject. A little more o' the bubble, lad; really, Butterface, your
powers in the way of cookery are wonderful."

"Chingatok seems to me quite a remarkable fellow for an Eskimo,"
observed Leo, scraping the bottom of the kettle with his spoon, and
looking inquiringly into it. "I, too, had some talk with him--through
Anders--when we first met, and from what he said I can't help thinking
that he has come from the remote north solely on a voyage of discovery
into what must be to him the unknown regions of the south. Evidently he
has an inquiring mind."

"Much like yourself, Leo, to judge from the way you peer into that
kettle," said Benjy; "please don't scrape the bottom out of it. There's
not much tin to mend it with, you know, in these regions."

"Brass will do quite as well," retorted Leo, "and there can be no lack
of that while you are here."

"Come now, Benjy," said Alf, "that insolent remark should put you on
your mettle."

"So it does, but I won't open my lips, because I feel that I should
speak ironically if I were to reply," returned the boy, gazing dreamily
into the quiet countenance of the steward. "What are _you_ thinking of,
you lump of charcoal?"

"Me, massa? me tink dere 'pears to be room for more wittles inside ob
me; but as all de grub's eated up, p'r'aps it would be as well to be
goin' an' tacklin' suffin' else now."

"You're right, Butterface," cried the Captain, rousing himself from a
reverie. "What say you, comrades? Shall we turn in an' have a nap?
It's past midnight."

"I'm not inclined for sleep," said Alf, looking up from some of the
botanical specimens he had collected.

"No more am I," said Leo, lifting up his arms and stretching his
stalwart frame, which, notwithstanding his youth, had