“What wasn’t?”
“Them eyes.”
“Near Nome, is it—the place where he—”
“Oh, no, a good ways north.”
“Heavens, north even of Nome?”
“Yes, it’s the farthest north camp they is. Think o’ him hangin’ on all through the winter. In that place!” Blumpitty’s pale gaze sought vainly for enlightenment among the moving ice masses.
“People do get through in worse places than that,” said his companion.
“They ain’t no worse places than Polaris.”
“Yes, there’s Franz Josef Land.”
“Never heard o’ that camp.”