The Brutus now came gliding up, and after congratulations had been exchanged between the two ships, a new hawser was rigged and the Southern Cross was once more taken in tow.
"I don't want any more encounters with icebergs," said Billy, as the ship proceeded toward her goal once more.
"Nor I," spoke the others.
"It's a pity this isn't at the north pole," said the professor, who was varnishing dried fish in the cabin, where this conversation took place.
"Why?" asked Frank.
"Because, if it had been, there might have been a polar bear on that iceberg. I have read that sometimes they drift away on bergs that become detached and are sighted by steamers quite far south."
"Why,—do you want a polar bear skin," asked Billy, "you can buy lots of them in New York."
"Oh, I don't care about the polar bear," said the professor quickly, "but the creatures have a kind of flea on them that is very rare."
At the idea of hunting such great animals as polar bears for such insignificant things as fleas, the boys all had to laugh. The professor, who was very good-natured, was not at all offended.
"Small animals are sometimes quite as interesting as large ones," was all he said.