iously entertained; not only did the structure of the
vessels make them utterly insufficient to give substantial shelter,
but they were totally unfitted to be trusted as to their stability when
exposed to the enormous pressure of the accumulated ice.

Neither Servadac, nor the count, nor Lieutenant Procope were men to
be easily disheartened, but it could not be concealed that they felt
themselves in circumstances by which they were equally harassed and
perplexed. The sole expedient that their united counsel could suggest
was to obtain a refuge below ground, and _that_ was denied them by the
strange and impenetrable substratum of the soil; yet hour by hour the
sun's disc was lessening in its dimensions, and although at midday some
faint radiance and glow were to be distinguished, during the night the
painfulness of the cold was becoming almost intolerable.

Mounted upon Zephyr and Galette, the captain and the count scoured the
island in search of some available retreat. Scarcely a yard of ground
was left unexplored, the horses clearing every obstacle as if they were,
like Pegasus, furnished with wings. But all in vain. Soundings were made
again and again, but invariably with the same result; the rock, hard as
adamant, never failed to reveal itself within a few feet of the surface
of the ground.

The excavation of any silo being thus manifestly hopeless, there seemed
nothing to be done except to try and render the buildings alongside the
gourbi impervious to frost. To contribute to the supply of fuel, orders
were given to collect every scrap of wood, dry or green, that the island
produced; and this involved the necessity of felling the numerous
trees that were scattered over the plain. But toil as they might at the
accumulation of firewood, Captain Servadac and his companions could not
resist the conviction that the consumption of a very short period would
exhaust the total stock. And what would happen then?

Studious if possible to conceal his real misgivings, and anxious that
the rest of the party should be affected as little as might be by his
own uneasiness, Servadac would wander alone about the island, racking
his brain for an idea that would point the way out of the serious
difficulty. But still all in vain.

One day he suddenly came upon Ben Zoof, and asked him whether he had no
plan to propose. The orderly shook his head, but after a few moments'
pondering, said: "Ah! master, if only we were at Montmartre, we