"So they have," exclaimed Harry. "If it wasn't too ridiculous, you'd say they had on evening clothes."
"They're not men at all," suddenly shouted the professor, with an air of triumph. "I thought I was not mistaken."
"Not men!" roared Ben. "What are the poor critters, then—females?"
"Neither men nor women," was the astonishing reply. "They are penguins."
All the men turned at this, and one of them, who had sailed in the polar regions before, announced, with a shout of laughter:
"The doc is right. Them's Emperor penguins, sure enough—taking a joy-ride through the ice."
The queer birds betrayed not the slightest excitement at the approach of the boat, but stood gazing solemnly at it, waving their little flippers,—somewhat like those of a seal, only feathered,—up and down in a rhythmic way.
"They act like band leaders," was Frank's remark.
"Better go back to the ship," said Ben, much disgusted at the upshoot of the expedition, and somewhat chagrined, too, if the truth must be told, at the professor's triumph over him.
"No, let us catch one," urged the professor. "I would like to see if it is possible to tame one."