“Hold on, uncle!” cried Alf, “I think I see a splendid specimen of—”
The crack of Leo’s whip, and the yelping of the team, drowned the rest of the sentence, and Alf was whirled away from his splendid specimen, (whatever it was), for ever!
“It is a piece of great good fortune,” said the Captain, as they swept along over the hard and level snow, “that the Eskimos have left their boats on this land, for now I shall have two strings to my bow.”
“What is the other string?” asked Leo, as he administered a flip to the flank of a lazy dog.
“Ah, that remains to be seen, lad,” replied the Captain.
“Why, what a tyrant you are, uncle!” exclaimed Alf, who had recovered from his disappointment about the splendid specimen. “You won’t tell us anything, almost. Who ever before heard of the men of an expedition to the North Pole being kept in ignorance of the means by which they were to get there?”
The Captain’s reply was only a twinkle of the eye.
“Father wants to fill you with bliss, Alf,” said Benjy, “according to your own notions of that sort of thing.”
“What do you mean, Ben?”
“Why, have we not all heard you often quote the words:— ‘Where ignorance is bliss, ’tis folly to be wise.’”