st attacked; then Gripper, Brunton, and Strong
took to their hammocks. Those that the malady still spared could not
lose sight of their sufferings; they were obliged to stay there, and
it was soon transformed into a hospital, for out of eighteen sailors
of the _Forward_, thirteen were attacked in a few days. Pen seemed
destined to escape contagion; his vigorous nature preserved him from
it. Shandon felt the first symptoms, but they did not go further,
and exercise kept the two in pretty good health.

The doctor nursed the invalids with the greatest care, and it made
him miserable to see the sufferings he could not alleviate. He did
all he could to keep his companions in good spirits; he talked to
them, read to them, and told them tales, which his astonishing memory
made it easy for him to do. He was often interrupted by the complaints
and groans of the invalids, and he stopped his talk to become once
more the attentive and devoted doctor. His health kept up well; he
did not get thinner, and he used to say that it was a good thing for
him that he was dressed like a seal or a whale, who, thanks to its
thick layer of fat, easily supports the Arctic atmosphere. Hatteras
felt nothing, either physically or morally. Even the sufferings of
his crew did not seem to touch him. Perhaps it was because he would
not let his face betray his emotions; but an attentive observer would
have remarked that a man's heart beat beneath the iron envelope. The
doctor analysed him, studied him, but did not succeed in classifying
so strange an organisation, a temperament so supernatural. The
thermometer lowered again; the walk on deck was deserted; the
Esquimaux dogs alone frequented it, howling lamentably.

There was always one man on guard near the stove to keep up the fire;
it was important not to let it go out. As soon as the fire got lower,
the cold glided into the room; ice covered the walls, and the humidity,
rapidly condensed, fell in snow on the unfortunate inhabitants of
the brig. It was in the midst of these unutterable tortures that the
8th of December was reached. That morning the doctor went as usual
to consult the exterior thermometer. He found the mercury completely
frozen.

"Forty-four degrees below zero!" he cried with terror. And that day
they threw the last lump of coal into the stove.

CHAPTER XXVII

CHRISTMAS

There was then a movement of despair. The thought of death, and death
from cold, appeared in all its