"Go on," said Hatteras.
Some remains of food were drawn out, and a case a quarter full of pemmican.
"If it is a hiding-place," said Hatteras, "the bears have been before us. See, the provisions are not intact."
"I am afraid so," answered the doctor; "for——"
He was interrupted by a cry from Bell, who had come upon a man's leg, stiffened and frozen.
"A corpse," cried the doctor.
"It is a tomb," answered Hatteras.
When the corpse was disinterred it turned out to be that of a sailor, about thirty years old, perfectly preserved. He wore the clothes of an Arctic navigator. The doctor could not tell how long he had been dead. But after this corpse, Bell discovered a second, that of a man of fifty, bearing the mark of the suffering that had killed him on his face.
"These are not buried bodies," cried the doctor, "the poor fellows were surprised by death just as we find them."
"You are right, Mr. Clawbonny," answered Bell.