vapor holder
tugged gently at the confining meshes of the net.

"Ma goodness sakes alive!" cried Washington as soon as he had poked his
head out of the warm engine room. "De atmospheric conditions am such dat
dey is conducive to de utmost congestion of mah circulatory
systemation!"

"I suppose you mean it is too cold for your blood," spoke the inventor,
with a smile.

"Yo' has conducted mah meanin' to de utmost circumspection, Perfessor,"
was the answer.

"You'd better get out a suit of furs," suggested the captain, for
Washington had not yet donned these garments. The colored man ran back
into the cabin, got out the heaviest set he could find, and put it on.

The professor and the boys, together with the two helpers, were clothed
to withstand the rigors of the arctic regions. In a little while
Washington was warmly dressed. Then the professor led the way over the
rail and down on the ice.

"Are we on land or sea?" asked Jack.

"It's hard to say, but I think we are on land," replied Amos Henderson.
"However, it doesn't make much difference. We are pretty far north. The
thing to do is to get the airship in shape as quickly as possible."

"Can we help?" asked Mark.

"I hardly think so," answered the old inventor. "Washington and I
understand every piece of machinery. If we need any help we will call on
you. In the meanwhile you may take a look around if you wish."

"I'd like to stretch my legs a bit," spoke up old Andy. "I ain't used to
stayin' cramped up in a ship like I have been. I'd like to see some of
that big game you talked about, Professor."

"Take your gun along, and you may spot a polar bear or a walrus,"
suggested Mr. Henderson. "Some fresh bear steak would not go badly at
all."

Delighted at the prospect at getting a shot Andy hastened after his gun.
Then after a hasty breakfast, with the two boys and the two helpers as
companions, all warmly wrapped in furs, the hunter set forth across the
fields of ice and snow.

It was a strange experience for all of them. There was not a sign of
life to be seen. On every side there was nothing but the cold
whiteness--a coldness and a whiteness that was like death itself. They
walked on for more than a mile, and saw nothing but the desolate waste.

"There's something!" called Jack in a hoarse whisper, coming to a halt
and pointing to a small hill of ice in the distance.

"It's a polar bear!" yelled Mark. "He's right behind the ice!"

"There are two of '