The sky at a considerable height had an ashy hue; the darkness, which was so marked during the tempest, and of which the doctor could give no satisfactory explanation, evidently came from the ashes, which completely hid the sun. He remembered a similar fact that took place in 1812, at the Barbadoes, which at noon was plunged into total darkness by the mass of cinders thrown from the crater of Isle St. Vincent.
This enormous volcano, jutting up in mid-ocean, was about six thousand feet high, very nearly the altitude of Hecla. A line from the summit to the base would form with the horizon an angle of about eleven degrees. It seemed to rise from the bosom of the waves as the launch approached it. There was no trace of vegetation. There was no shore; it ran down steep to the sea.
"Shall we be able to land?" said the doctor.
"The wind is carrying us there," answered Altamont.
"But I can't see any beach on which we could set foot."
"So it seems from here," answered Johnson; "but we shall find some place for our boat; that is all we need."
"Let us go on, then!" answered Clawbonny, sadly.
The doctor had no eyes for the strange continent which was rising before him. The land of the Pole was there, but not the man who had discovered it. Five hundred feet from the rocks the sea was boiling under the action of subterraneous fires. The island was from eight to ten miles in circumference, no more; and, according to their calculation, it was very near the Pole, if indeed the axis of the world did not pass exactly through it. As they drew near they noticed a little fiord large enough to shelter their boat; they sailed towards it, filled with the fear of finding the captain's body cast ashore by the tempest.
| "They noticed a little fiord." |