“Not paper ones, surely,” said Benjy, in a tone of disappointment, not unmingled with contempt.
“No, Ben, not paper ones,” said the Captain, “but you shall see. Let the boxes be unlashed and carried into yonder cave. I’ll unpack them presently. Meanwhile, Anders, I want you to interpret for me. Go, tell Chingatok I wish to have a talk with him.”
While the brothers went to obey their leader’s order, and Benjy to superintend the pitching of the camp, Captain Vane walked along the shore with Anders and the giant.
“Are you sure, Chingatok, that there is no more ice in this sea?” asked the Captain.
“No more great packs; only a little here and there, and a few ice-mountains,” answered the Eskimo.
“And no more islands?”
“No more islands till you come to the land where I and my people dwell. There are more islands beyond that with people on them—people who are not friendly to us.”
“How far off, now, is your land from this island?” continued the Captain, with a grave nod to Leo, who joined them at the moment.
“About three days with a kayak.”
The Captain pondered for a few minutes.