“I should like to get an observation from the crow’s-nest,” said the captain, looking upward, “but everything is so coated with ice and slippery that I hardly like to send a man aloft.”
“I’ll go!” cried Steve eagerly.
The captain shook his head.
“Too dangerous, my lad,” he said.
“But you did not tell us where you made out we had been driven,” said the doctor, as Steve stood looking up at the ratlines thick with ice, and the glassy look of shroud and stay, while great icicles hung from the tops and yards.
“I beg your pardon,” said the captain. “I was thinking of the land yonder. I make out that we have been driven right up to 82 degrees north latitude and about 45 east longitude.”
“But what does that mean?” said Steve, laughing.
“Not very far from being as near to the North Pole as any one has reached in this direction,” said the captain, “and that we are close to land that in all probability man has never set foot upon yet.”
“Hooray!” cried Steve excitedly.
“We have come north at an exceptional time. Generally the icy barrier stops all progress. This year that storm has broken it up in masses, and it is quite possible that we may be able to penetrate farther yet.”