"Off there," replied young Hobbs, pointing to the north-west.
Ah, yes! there it was,—a line of dark gray cliffs, low in the water. Between us and them a dozen white icebergs glittered in the sun.
"Is that the cape, captain?" queried Kit.
"Must be," was the reply. "Same latitude. Can't be any thing else. Answers to the chart exactly."
"Oh! that's Cape Resolution fast enough," said Raed. "Those cliffs correspond with the descriptions, I should say."
"How far off?" asked Wade.
"Well, seven or eight leagues," replied the captain.
"The Button Islands, on the south side of the entrance, ought to be in sight, to the south-west," remarked Raed, looking off in that direction; "but I don't see them," he added.
The captain got his glass, and climbed up to the gaff of the foresail.
"Yes, there 'tis!" he shouted. "Low down; low land. No cliffs."