Not far inland was a high hill. This was limpet shaped, and coned at the top—an extinct volcano, in fact, but with its crater still unfilled, showing that it still retained heat.
This our heroes climbed with great perseverance and difficulty.
Then, aided by their telescopes, they turned their attention to the south.
Before starting to climb this hill, Curtis quietly surveyed it, and made its height out to be about 1800 feet.
While he was taking his angles, Ingomar just as quietly brought out a strange-looking flag from under the sledge baggage, and with it a pole.
From the great height at which they now stood the visible horizon would be about forty-eight miles, and looking southwards, eastwards, or westwards nothing was visible except this cold rough sea of ice.
The finger of time had touched it, and lo! for uncounted ages all had been solid and still.
It was the burial-place of the Past. And yet this marvellous ocean had once glimmered blue and beautiful in the sunshine, life had been in its waters, and life in the dead and frozen hill, from which our heroes now were looking down.
Some such thoughts as these must have been passing through their minds at this supreme moment.