“I don’t want to suggest difficulties,” said the doctor suddenly; “but suppose, when the time for fine weather to be at an end comes, there is no chance of our escape—always supposing that we have seen nothing of the Ice Blink people—what then?”
“In plain English,” said the captain, “we must make up our minds to pass the winter here.”
“The winter?” cried Steve.
“Yes, my lad. Why not? We have snug, warm quarters, which we can make warmer, for I saw traces of coal up yonder in the valley close to the glacier. Food is plentiful, and what men have done before men can do again.”
“If there is no help for it, we must submit,” said the doctor.
“Better submit than venture to sea in these two boats,” said the captain; “and in case of the first emergency, I propose that we begin exploring the land now. We have thoroughly examined all the coast that we could reach north and south.”
“And hunt as we go?” said the doctor.
“And hunt as we go, so as to lay in a good store of fresh meat. This will freeze and keep any length of time. I don’t think our prospects are so bad—that is, for seamen.”
“I thought we should have found some trace of our friends,” said the doctor; but the captain shook his head.
“It is all the merest chance,” he said; “we have nothing to guide us. They might have been at Jan Mayen, or up on the north coast of Greenland or the coast of Spitzbergen, or they might be here in the next valley, or north or south where we could not penetrate. On the other hand, they may be in Novaya-Zemlya, or in some region of the far north never yet penetrated by others. Feeling all this has made me think that it will be by accident we shall meet our friends more than by searching; but we shall go on searching all the same.”