Each one took his accustomed place, Bell ahead pointing out the way, the doctor and Johnson by the sides of the sledge, watching and lending their aid when it was necessary, and Hatteras behind, correcting the line of march.
They went along tolerably quickly; now that the temperature was so low, the ice was hard and smooth for travel; the five dogs easily drew the sledge, which weighed hardly more than nine hundred pounds. Still, men and beasts panted heavily, and often they had to stop to take breath.
Towards seven o'clock in the evening, the moon peered through mist on the horizon. Its rays threw out a light which was reflected from the ice; towards the northwest the ice-field looked like a perfectly smooth plain; not a hummock was to be seen. This part of the sea seemed to have frozen smooth like a lake.
It was an immense, monotonous desert.
Such was the impression that this spectacle made on the doctor's mind, and he spoke of it to his companion.
"You are right, Doctor," answered Johnson; "it is a desert, but we need not fear dying of thirst."
"A decided advantage," continued the doctor; "still, this immensity proves one thing to me, and that is that we are far distant from any land; in general, the proximity of land is indicated by a number of icebergs, and not one is to be seen near us."
"We can't see very far for the fog," said Johnson.
"Without doubt; but since we started we have crossed a smooth field of which we cannot see the end."
"Do you know, Doctor, it's a dangerous walk we are taking! We get used to it and don't think of it, but we are walking over fathomless depths."