of sight completely. The Russian sailors,
following a northern custom, skated in file, maintaining their rank by
means of a long pole passed under their right arms, and in this way they
described a trackway of singular regularity. The two children, blithe
as birds, flitted about, now singly, now arm-in-arm, now joining the
captain's party, now making a short peregrination by themselves, but
always full of life and spirit. As for Ben Zoof, he was here, there,
and everywhere, his imperturbable good temper ensuring him a smile of
welcome whenever he appeared.

Thus coursing rapidly over the icy plain, the whole party had soon
exceeded the line that made the horizon from the shore. First, the rocks
of the coast were lost to view; then the white crests of the cliffs were
no longer to be seen; and at last, the summit of the volcano, with its
corona of vapor, was entirely out of sight. Occasionally the skaters
were obliged to stop to recover their breath, but, fearful of
frost-bite, they almost instantly resumed their exercise, and proceeded
nearly as far as Gourbi Island before they thought about retracing their
course.

But night was coming on, and the sun was already sinking in the east
with the rapidity to which the residents on Gallia were by this time
well accustomed. The sunset upon this contracted horizon was very
remarkable. There was not a cloud nor a vapor to catch the tints of the
declining beams; the surface of the ice did not, as a liquid sea would,
reflect the last green ray of light; but the radiant orb, enlarged by
the effect of refraction, its circumference sharply defined against the
sky, sank abruptly, as though a trap had been opened in the ice for its
reception.

Before the daylight ended. Captain Servadac had cautioned the party to
collect themselves betimes into one group. "Unless you are sure of your
whereabouts before dark," he said, "you will not find it after. We have
come out like a party of skirmishers; let us go back in full force."

The night would be dark; their moon was in conjunction, and would not be
seen; the stars would only give something of that "pale radiance" which
the poet Corneille has described.

Immediately after sunset the torches were lighted, and the long series
of flames, fanned by the rapid motion of their bearers, had much the
appearance of an enormous fiery banner. An hour later, and the volcano
appeared like a dim shadow on the horizon, the light from the crater
shedd