The other current, called Behring Current, flows just the other way. After running from east to west at about a hundred miles at the most from the coast, it comes into collision, so to speak, with the Kamtchatka Current at the opening of the strait, and turning to the south approaches the shores of Russian America, crosses Behring Sea, and finally breaks on the kind of circular dam formed by the Aleutian Islands.
Hobson's map gave a very exact summary of the most recent nautical observations, so that it could be relied on.
The Lieutenant examined it carefully before speaking, and then pressing his hand to his head, as if oppressed by some sad presentiment, he observed-
"Let us hope that fate will not take us to remote northern latitudes. Our wandering island would run a risk of never returning."
"Why, Lieutenant?" broke in Mrs Barnett.
"Why, madam?" replied Hobson; "look well at this part of the Arctic Ocean, and you will readily understand why. Two currents, both dangerous for us, run opposite ways. When they meet, the island must necessarily become stationary, and that at a great distance from any land. At that point it will have to remain for the winter, and when the next thaw sets in, it will either follow the Kamtchatka Current to the deserted regions of the north-west, or it will float down with the Behring Current to be swallowed up by the Pacific Ocean."
"That will not happen, Lieutenant," said Madge in a tone of earnest conviction; "God would never permit that."
"I can't make out," said Mrs Barnett, "whereabouts in the Polar Sea we are at this moment; for I see but one current from the offing of Cape Bathurst which bears directly to the north-west, and that is the dangerous Kamtchatka Current. Are you not afraid that it has us in its fatal embrace, and is carrying us with it to the shores of North Georgia?"
"I think not," replied Hobson, after a moment's reflection.
"Why not?"