It was bandaged up, and Jack was able to walk about, thankful that things were not worse.
Chapter IX.—The Volcano Of Ice.
For three long days the Dart bore away northwest, the direction in which the last had been seen of the missing boat.
"Luckily it's the right course to steer for the Siberian coast," remarked the captain, as he sat over his wine after midday dinner. "We shall sight the high land to-morrow morning, if not before"
"Surely we shall come across the boat in time, captain?" remarked Bob.
"Well, we have had wonderfully fine weather," replied the captain. "But, after all she was but a cutter, handled by a lunatic."
And he and Bob interchanged looks of despair as they ascended the companion ladder.
"Bok, go to the foremast-head," ordered the captain. "Take the glass, and have a look around."
The sailor slung the telescope over his shoulder and nimbly mounted the rigging.
When he arrived at the topgallant-yard he passed his arm round the skypole, and, adjusting the glass, swept the line of the horizon.