of the north
that had been held for untold centuries.

As the Doctor had informed the captain of the ship, away to the west was
a certain amount of open sea, but it was of limited extent, and the
prospects of the poor fellows getting much farther looked more than
doubtful.

"And what is to become of them if they cannot get through?" asked Mrs.
Jones.

"I cannot tell," returned the Doctor, "but the chances are that they
will be crushed in the ice."

"O dear, what a fate!" cried Mrs. Jones. "Can we do nothing for them?"

"Nothing at all, my dear. They are beyond our reach, and it is not
likely that they would desert their ship if we could offer to take them
with us. Such men are not easily turned from their purpose."

"All we can do then is to pray that God will preserve them, and permit
them to return safely home," said the sympathetic little woman.

"And let us ask Him that this favoring gale may continue a few hours
longer," added Dr. Jones.

There was no thought of retiring as the usual hour for doing so arrived.
They all felt impressed with the thought that they were now looking upon
scenes never before seen by mortal eye, and that they were very near the
object of their journey. How their hearts warmed and palpitated with the
thought!

"We have crossed the 85th parallel," said the Professor, "and in six or
seven hours will reach the Pole at this rate."

"This is the Lord's doings, and it is marvelous in our eyes," quoted the
Doctor with great fervency.

Busy feet climbed and descended the spiral stairway many times that
night, but could see nothing but a frozen sea in every direction. The
wind blew from due south, and they were flying at tremendous speed
directly toward the Pole as if drawn there by a great magnet. The cold
was intense--the thermometer registering more than 60 deg. below zero.
But as we said before, no wind was ever felt aboard Silver Cloud, and it
has been ascertained that man can endure almost any degree of cold if
it be quiet and still.

At midnight they all sat down to a good substantial supper that had been
prepared by Sing. The aroma of the coffee filled the little dining-room,
and was grateful to the senses. How merry and happy they were! And they
ate and drank with appetites that were very complimentary to Sing's
cooking, and the faithful Mongolian was well pleased to see the food
thus disappearing.

"There is no place like the Arctics for getting hungry and giving food a
r