“Good gracious, no!” exclaimed Dick. “I thought you were directing us.”
“I haven’t the remotest idea where we are,” said the Dodo, coolly.
“Why, then, we’re lost!” cried Marjorie, in dismay.
“Mother told me,” said Fidge, solemnly, “that if I ever got lost, I was to ask a policeman to take me home.”
"At the entrance was a large walrus smoking."
“Yes, but I’m afraid there are no policemen about here,” laughed the others.
“What we had better do,” said Dick, “is to push on till we come to land somewhere, or a ship, and inquire the way back.”
This was thought to be the best plan to pursue, and the children hurried along till Marjorie noticed that both the air and the water were growing fresher every moment, and she was just beginning to wonder what they were going to do if it grew much colder, when Dick cried out, in quite a nautical style—