name will last to the world's end, in spite of all the wrong I did. For
I discovered Hudson River, and I named Hudson's Bay; and many have come
in my wake that dared not have shown me the way. But I was a hard man in
my time, that's truth, and stole the poor Indians off the coast of
Maine, and sold them for slaves down in Virginia; and at last I was so
cruel to my sailors, here in these very seas, that they set me adrift in
an open boat, and I never was heard of more. So now I'm the king of all
mollys, till I've worked out my time."

And now they came to the edge of the pack, and beyond it they could see
Shiny Wall looming, through mist, and snow, and storm. But the pack
rolled horribly upon the swell, and the ice giants fought and roared,
and leapt upon each other's backs, and ground each other to powder, so
that Tom was afraid to venture among them, lest he should be ground to
powder too. And he was the more afraid, when he saw lying among the ice
pack the wrecks of many a gallant ship; some with masts and yards all
standing, some with the seamen frozen fast on board. Alas, alas, for
them! They were all true English hearts; and they came to their end like
good knights-errant, in searching for the white gate that never was
opened yet.

But the good mollys took Tom and his dog up, and flew with them safe
over the pack and the roaring ice giants, and set them down at the foot
of Shiny Wall.

"And where is the gate?" asked Tom.

"There is no gate," said the mollys.

"No gate?" cried Tom, aghast.

"None; never a crack of one, and that's the whole of the secret, as
better fellows, lad, than you have found to their cost; and if there had
been, they'd have killed by now every right whale that swims the sea."

"What am I to do, then?"

"Dive under the floe, to be sure, if you have pluck."

"I've not come so far to turn now," said Tom; "so here goes for a
header."

"A lucky voyage to you, lad," said the mollys; "we knew you were one of
the right sort. So good-bye."

"Why don't you come too?" asked Tom.

But the mollys only wailed sadly, "We can't go yet, we can't go yet,"
and flew away over the pack.

So Tom dived under the great white gate which never was opened yet, and
went on in black darkness, at the bottom of the sea, for seven days and
seven nights. And yet he was not a bit frightened. Why should he be? He
was a brave English lad, whose business is to go out and see all the
world.

And at last he saw