| "The fog, without lifting, was very bright." |
"The volcano!" he cried.
"Is it possible?" asked Bell.
"No, no!" answered the doctor; "we should be smothered if the flames were to reach us."
"Perhaps it is its reflection in the fog," said Altamont.
"No. We should have to admit that we were near land, and in that case we should hear the eruption."
"But then?" asked the captain.
"It is a phenomenon," said the doctor, "which has been seldom observed hitherto. If we go on we cannot help leaving this luminous sphere and re-entering storm and darkness."
"Whatever it is, push on!" said Hatteras.
"Forward!" cried his companions, who did not wish to delay even for breathing-time in this quiet spot. The bright sail hung down the glistening mast; the oars dipped into the glowing waves, and appeared to drip with sparks. Hatteras, compass in hand, turned the boat's head to the north; gradually the mist lost its brightness and transparency; the wind could be heard roaring a short distance off; and soon the launch, lying over before a strong gust, re-entered the zone of storms. Fortunately, the hurricane had shifted a point towards the south, and the launch was able to run before the wind, straight for the Pole, running the risk of foundering, but sailing very fast; a rock, reef, or piece of ice might at any moment rise before them, and crush them to atoms. Still, no one of these men raised a single objection, nor suggested prudence. They were seized with the madness of danger. Thirst for the unknown took possession of them. They were going along, not blinded, but blindly, finding their speed only too slow for their impatience. Hatteras held the tiller firm amid the waves lashed into foam by the tempest. Still the proximity of land became evident. Strange signs filled the air. Suddenly the mist parted like a curtain torn by the wind, and for a moment, brief as a flash of lightning, a great burst of flame could be seen rising towards the sky.