Unless there was more game in the realms they expected to find beyond the barrier, Seymour’s weapons were like to grow rusty through disuse. Suddenly a cry came from Garth:
“The barrier! At last!”
The Seal, obeying a slight movement of her wheel, had rounded a monster berg, and ahead, many miles distant yet, but looming nearer with every yard the vessel advanced, rose the towering peaks of the barrier ice, the grim and silent guardians of the secret of the Pole.
Crag upon crag, pinnacle after pinnacle, they towered, glittering with an unearthly brilliance, through the rarefied air of these high altitudes.
The inventor’s shout brought Seymour and the scientist up, and out on deck in an instant.
One glimpse they got of the marvellous range of ice mountains, then a giant berg floated across the line of vision.
“Ugh!” the Professor shivered, “let’s get inside. It’s too cold to stand out here.”
Forthwith the three passed into the turret, and closed the door. As they did so, a score of feathery flakes drifted across the vessel’s deck.
“Snow!” cried the baronet.
Ere a moment had passed, the submarine was surrounded by a dazzling white veil, through which it was impossible to see more than a few yards ahead.