e surface of the
globe; the floe was taking us south with it. Maybe you won't believe
it, but there are currents going north in this sea; once or twice in a
lifetime, a whaler or passage hunter returns with a story of being
drifted _north_--now that's what I want, I am hunting for a northern
current. We will go to the northern shore of this open water, be it one
mile or one thousand, and there--well, hunt again.'

"Well, it was in September when we at last got to what seemed the
northern shore of this open sea. We had to proceed very slowly, as there
were almost daily fogs and occasional snow-storms; but one morning the
ship rounded to, almost under the shadow of what seemed to be a giant
iceberg. Captain Burrows came on deck, rubbing his hands in glee.

"'Son,' said he, 'that is no iceberg; that's ancient ice, perpetual ice,
the great ice-ring--palaecrystic ice, you scientific fellows call it. I
saw it once before, in thirty-seven, when a boy; that's it, and, son,
beyond that there is something. Take notice that that is ice; clear,
glary ice. You know a so-called iceberg is really a snowberg; it's
three-fourths under water. Now, it may be possible that, that being ice
which will float more than half out of water, the northern currents may
go under it--but I don't believe it. Under or over, I am going to find
one of 'em, if it takes till doomsday.'

[Illustration: "What seemed to be a giant iceberg...."]

"We sailed west, around close to this great wall of ice, for two weeks,
without seeing any evidence of a current of any kind, until there came
on a storm from the northwest that drove a great deal of ice around the
great ring; but it seemed to keep rather clear of the great wall of ice
and to go off in a tangent toward the south. The lead showed no bottom
at one hundred fathoms, even within a quarter of a mile of the ice.

"It was getting late in the season, the mercury often going down to
fifteen below zero, and every night the aurora became brighter. We
sailed slowly around the open water, and finally found a place where the
sheer precipice of ice disappeared and the shore sloped down to
something like a beach. Putting out a sea-anchor, the 'Duncan McDonald'
kept within a half-a-mile of this icy shore. The captain had determined
to land and survey the place, which far away back seemed to terminate in
mountain peaks of ice.

"That night the captain and I sat on the rail of our ship, talking over
the plans for to