"Well, we shall cross it."
"How? We have no boat."
Hatteras did not answer; he was evidently embarrassed.
"Perhaps," suggested Bell, "we might build a launch out of the timbers of the Porpoise."
"Never!" shouted Hatteras, warmly.
"Never?" exclaimed Johnson.
The doctor shook his head; he understood the captain's unwillingness.
"Never!" the latter answered. "A launch made out of the wood of an American ship would be an American launch—"
"But, Captain—" interposed Johnson.
The doctor made a sign to the old boatswain to keep silent. A more suitable time was required for that question. The doctor, although he understood Hatteras's repugnance, did not sympathize with it, and he determined to make his friend abandon this hasty decision. Hence he spoke of something else, of the possibility of going along the coast to the north, and that unknown point, the North Pole. In a word, he avoided all dangerous subjects of conversation up to the moment when it was suddenly ended by the entrance of Altamont. He had nothing new to report. The day ended in this way, and the night was quiet. The bears had evidently disappeared.