reatly influenced her mother, and finally
we obtained her consent. Our preparations were carefully made. The
advanced knowledge of chemistry in Mizora placed many advantages in our
way. Our boat was an ingenious contrivance with a thin glass top that
could be removed and folded away until needed to protect us from the
rigors of the Arctic climate.

I had given an accurate description of the rapids that would oppose us,
and our boat was furnished with a motive power sufficient to drive us
through them at a higher rate of speed than what they moved at. It was
built so as to be easily converted into a sled, and runners were made
that could be readily adjusted. We were provided with food and clothing
prepared expressly for the severe change to and rigors of the Arctic
climate through which we must pass.

I was constantly dreading the terrors of that long ice-bound journey,
but the Preceptress appeared to be little concerned about it. When I
spoke of its severities, she said for us to observe her directions, and
we should not suffer. She asked me if I had ever felt uncomfortable in
any of the air-ship voyages I had taken, and said that the cold of the
upper regions through which I had passed in their country was quite as
intense as any I could meet within a lower atmosphere of my own.

The newspapers had a great deal to say about the departure of the
Preceptress' daughter on so uncertain a mission, and to that strange
land of barbarians which I represented. When the day arrived for our
departure, immense throngs of people from all parts of the country lined
the shore, or looked down upon us from their anchored air-ships.

The last words of farewell had been spoken to my many friends and
benefactors. Wauna had bidden a multitude of associates good-bye, and
clasped her mother's hand, which she held until the boat parted from the
shore. Years have passed since that memorable parting, but the look of
yearning love in that Mizora mother's eyes haunts me still. Long and
vainly has she watched for a boat's prow to cleave that amber mist and
bear to her arms that vision of beauty and tender love I took away from
her. My heart saddens at the thought of her grief and long, long waiting
that only death will end.

We pointed the boat's prow toward the wide mysterious circle of amber
mists, and then turned our eyes for a last look at Mizora. Wauna stood
silent and calm, earnestly gazing into the eyes of her mother, until the
shore a