"We might go and see, but the professor is wet and should get back to the ship," said Ben.
"Oh, my dear sir, don't mind me," demurred that individual. "If I could have a little more of the stimulant—ah, thank you—as I was saying, I am never in a hurry to go anywhere when there is an interesting question of natural history to be solved."
"Very well, then," said Ben, heading the boat about; "if you catch cold, don't blame me."
"Oh dear, no. I wouldn't think of such a thing," said the professor, his eyes eagerly fixed on the disturbance of the birds.
"It's a big wounded albatross!" suddenly exclaimed Billy, as the boat drew near to the object the other birds were attacking.
"So it is," cried Harry.
"A monster, too," supplemented the professor. "It would be a great find for any collection."
"Perhaps we can catch it and stuff it," cried Billy.
"Perhaps so; but we must hurry or the others will have pecked it to bits."
The boat flew through the water, and soon they were near enough to drive the other birds away. The wounded albatross, however, did not rise, but lay flapping on the ice.