Dinner was soon announced, and eaten with a relish, as the bracing air had given each a good appetite. The sunlight had given place to twilight, and that, in turn, had been followed by night. The stars shone out with brilliancy, and studded the heavens in every direction. The Orion, being in an upper current, moved with surprising evenness. The pole-star was high in the sky, and the great bear directly over their heads.
It was 18 dial by their chronometers, and they should be near the eightieth parallel.
“Hugh,” said Cobb, rising from his chair, “will you take the latitude from Polaris? Never mind the refraction; I want it only to within a few minutes.” Hugh took the sextant, and left the cabin, while Cobb turned to Hathaway, and remarked: “Lester, this is a very comfortable room, this one of ours in the arctic regions, is it not?”
“Indeed, it is,” the other replied.
“And we are going north, to the extremity of the earth?”
“I understand such to be your intention.”
“It would be sad for you and Hugh if we never returned!”
“I do not think of it in that light,” smilingly returned his companion, as he lighted a fresh cigar. “There is no reason why we should not return, and return in a halo of glory.”
“I hope so.”