BEYOND THE GREAT BARRIER.
THE Seal sped swiftly over the rolling waves of the northern seas, her whole hull vibrating with the throb of her powerful engines.
Her inventor, a huge cigar between his lips, lounged over the rail which surrounded the vessel’s deck, scarce seeming to feel the bite of the keen wind as he gazed dreamily into the distance.
At the wheel, his wiry hands holding the polished spokes in an iron grip, stood the American, his watchful eye fixed upon the masses of ice which rolled and wallowed around the vessel.
The explorers had been glad to don their heaviest furs, but found even the thickest of them poor enough protection against the icy breath of the Frost King; yet they were occasionally obliged to have the turret door open, despite the cold, when the renewal of the air supply became a necessity.
Two months had passed since the events recorded in our last chapter; the first part of the voyage had been almost completed, and the Seal was rapidly nearing the great barrier, beneath which she was to dive to the North Pole.
It was the Arctic summer; but little of summer was visible in the gloomy scene around; and above a leaden canopy of a sky hung, grey, dismal, and depressing.
For three days the sun had not appeared, and there was every indication of a heavy snowstorm ere long.
Little the party cared for this, however; storm or shine, within twelve hours they would know the result of their quest; would know whether the professor’s theory was a fact or a delusion, and all were eagerly awaiting the moment of decision.
Here, amid the towering crags of the icebergs, some hardy seafowl wheeled, uttering at intervals a shrill shriek of defiance; there a seal, waiting until the submarine had approached to within a few yards of the ice-floe on which it lay, would dive with scarce a splash into the swelling green waters. But beyond these no sign of life was visible.