"It must be said," continued Altamont, "that we are going through an uninhabited and uninhabitable country."
"O, uninhabitable is a strong word!" answered the doctor; "I can't believe any land uninhabitable; man, by many sacrifices, and for generations using all the resources of science, might finally fertilize such a country."
"Do you think so?" asked Altamont.
"Without doubt! If you were to go to the celebrated countries of the world, to Thebes, Nineveh, or Babylon, in the fertile valleys of our ancestors, it would seem impossible that men should ever have lived there; the air itself has grown bad since the disappearance of human beings. It is the general law of nature which makes those countries in which we do not live unhealthy and sterile, like those out of which life has died. In fact, man himself makes his own country by his presence, his habits, his industry, and, I might add, by his breath; he gradually modifies the exhalations of the soil and the atmospheric conditions, and he makes the air he breathes wholesome. So there are uninhabited lands, I grant, but none uninhabitable."
Talking in this way, the hunters, who had become naturalists, pushed on and reached a sort of valley, fully exposed, at the bottom of which a river, nearly free of ice, was flowing; its southern exposure had brought forth a certain amount of vegetation. The earth showed a strong desire to grow fertile; with a few inches of rich soil it would have produced a good deal. The doctor called their attention to these indications.
"See," he said, "a few hardy colonists might settle in this ravine. With industry and perseverance they could do a great deal; not as much as is seen in the temperate zones, but a respectable show. If I am not mistaken, there are some four-footed animals! They know the good spots."
"They are Arctic hares," shouted Altamont, cocking his gun.
"Wait a moment," cried the doctor,—"wait a moment, you hasty fellow. They don't think of running away! See, they'll come to us!"