already developed
to almost the full proportions of a powerful man.

"I vote that we sit up all night," said Benjy, "the sun does it, and why
shouldn't we?"

"Well, I've no objection," rejoined the Captain, "but we must work if we
don't sleep--so, come along."

Setting the example, Captain Vane began to shoulder the bags and boxes
which lay scattered around with the energy of an enthusiastic railway
porter. The other members of the party were not a whit behind him in
diligence and energy. Even Benjy, delicate-looking though he was, did
the work of an average man, besides enlivening the proceedings with
snatches of song and a flow of small talk of a humorous and slightly
insolent nature.

CHAPTER SIX.

FUTURE PLANS DISCUSSED AND DECIDED.

Away to the northward of the spot where the _Whitebear_ had been wrecked
there stretched a point of land far out into the Arctic Ocean. It was
about thirty miles distant, and loomed hugely bluff and grand against
the brilliant sky, as if it were the forefront of the northern world.
No civilised eyes had ever beheld that land before. Captain Vane knew
that, because it lay in latitude 83 north, which was a little beyond the
furthest point yet reached by Arctic navigators. He therefore named it
Cape Newhope. Benjy thought that it should have been named
Butterface-beak, because the steward had been the first to observe it,
but his father thought otherwise.

About three miles to the northward of this point of land the Eskimos
were encamped. According to arrangement with the white men they had
gone there, as we have said, in charge of the dogs brought by Captain
Vane from Upernavik, as these animals, it was thought, stood much in
need of exercise.

Here the natives had found and taken possession of a number of deserted
Eskimo huts.

These rude buildings were the abodes to which the good people migrated
when summer heat became so great as to render their snow-huts sloppily
disagreeable.

In one of the huts sat Chingatok, his arms resting on his knees, his
huge hands clasped, and his intelligent eyes fixed dreamily on the
lamp-flame, over which his culinary mother was bending in busy
sincerity. There were many points of character in which this remarkable
mother and son resembled each other. Both were earnest--intensely so--
and each was enthusiastically eager about small matters as well as
great. In short, they both possessed great though uncultivated minds.

The