n
made, "why you should not have fitted sails to the boats, instead of
kites."

"Because a sail only a quarter the size of a kite would upset the boat,"
said the Captain, "and one small enough to suit it would be little
better than a pair of oars. This kite system is like fitting a gigantic
sail to a lilliputian boat, d'ye see?"

"I see, father. But I wish it had been a balloon. It would have been
greater fun to have gone to the Pole in a balloon!"

"A balloon will never go there, nor anywhere else, Benjy, except where
the wind carries it, for a balloon cannot be steered. It's impossible
in the nature of things--as much so as that dream of the visionary,
perpetual motion."

On the fourth day after their arrival at Great Hope Island the wind blew
strong and steady from the south, and the explorers prepared to start.
The Eskimos had been told that they were to remain behind and shift for
themselves--a piece of news which did not seem to affect them at all,
one way or other. Those who were selected to go with the explorers were
perfectly willing to do so. Chingatok, of course, was particularly
ready. So were his corpulent mother and Tekkona and Oblooria; so also
were Oolichuk, Ivitchuk, and Akeetolik.

It was a splendid sunny afternoon when the kites were finally flown and
attached to the three boats which were commanded respectively by the
Captain Leo, and Alf. These three sat at the bow of each boat
manipulating the regulators, and keeping the kites fluttering, while the
goods and provisions were put on board. Then the Eskimo women and crews
stepped in, and the stern ropes were cast loose.

"Let go the check-strings!" shouted the Captain.

This was done. The huge kites began to strain at once, and the
india-rubber boats went rushing out to sea, leaving the remainder of the
Eskimo band speechless on the shore. They stood there motionless, with
open mouths and eyes, the very embodiment of unbelieving wonder, till
the boats had disappeared on the horizon.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

THE OPEN POLAR BASIN AT LAST! ALF WASHES HIMSELF IN IT.

Who can imagine or describe the feelings of Captain Vane and his young
relatives on finding themselves sweeping at such a magnificent rate over
the great Polar basin?--that mysterious sea, which some believe to be a
sea of thick-ribbed ice, and others suppose to be no sea at all, but dry
land covered with eternal snows. One theorist even goes the length of
saying that t