"Nor snow!" he added with a smile.
"What made you think of snow?"
"I thought, perhaps, you were thinking of it," he replied.
"Why?"
"Because you said it was high time we were in the ice belt again!"
I started.
"And how far have we come?" I asked.
"From where?"
He looked carefully at his register and made a calculation. He then said:
"We are now one thousand three hundred and eighty miles from Von Broekhuysen's Island, and about one thousand one hundred and thirty miles north of the North Pole—if you can imagine such a thing—I mean that we have advanced upon a straight line for this distance; and as you see, we have met neither ice, snow, nor cold weather yet!"