sand miles in diameter could hardly be the same throughout.

Our failing telephone, however, was a real sorrow. Though still distinct, the voices were very faint, now. Unless Ferratoni could do something, it would fail us altogether, soon. He believed its condition due mainly to our lower altitude, and the vast obstruction that was now lying between us and the Billowcrest. But it had been a great comfort to us all through our hardest hours, and I would be content. The mental vibrations from the vessel, Ferratoni said, were similarly affected, and much confused.

Another day of discovery followed. The wind and weather being too good to waste, by five o'clock we were on our way up the river. The snow crust thinned out rapidly, until, by ten o'clock, there was no more than a foot on the banks above, and we were sailing between shores of genuine stone and clay, the first soil we had seen for a year. Flocks of birds became plentiful, and at one place we saw some strange, brown animals, about the size and shape of rabbits, but with very long hind legs and with a method of locomotion similar to that of a frog. Gale named them "Skipteroons" because of their lightsome mode of travel, and shot at them, without success.

The temperature was barely freezing, now, and

well as we had prestatements had been a

we were altogether happy. So much so that we confessed to Edith all the affair of the balloon, and our subsequent difficulties. She was less surprised than we had expected. She had suspected, it seems, that all was not so tended, and of course our trifle contradictory at times. But she rejoiced now in the reality of good fortune that had come to us, the genuineness of which could not be mistaken, even through our fast failing telephone.

Several times we halted and climbed up on the shore to look at the country for possible inhabitants, but there was as yet no human sign, though much bird life, and some more of the funny half-rabbit creatures, one of which Gale succeeded in killing at last, a welcome addition to our bill-of-fare. All at once, about four o'clock, Ferratoni held out his hand. "Listen!" he said.

We listened very hard, and thought we heard a roaring sound ahead, but as the wind was blowing in that direction, we could not be sure. It grew stronger, however, as we ascended, and was steady and continuous. We decided that it was a fall, and not far away. Hardly had we made this conclusion when there was a cracking sound beneath us, followed by a crash of ice and a splash of water, and our boat-sleigh was no longer a sleigh at all, but a genuine boat, battling with a strong current and

broken ice. Our momentum had sent us ahead a few feet, but our sail was too small to stem the current and we were drifting back to the jagged ice. This time it was Ferratoni who saved the situation. He had foreseen just such an emergency and had at hand the little propeller wheel for water. With a quick movement, now, he plunged it beneath the surface at the stern, and deftly slipping and locking it into place, pressed the button of the dynamo. We were off, like a trolley car. The thin ice ahead parted before our sharp bow, and in a few moments we were in open water, heading up-stream under both electricity and sail.

"Like gettin' money from home," said Gale. "Look here, Nick, where would your boat scheme have been, anyway, without Tony and me to help you out?"

Certainly the propeller was a success, and I approved it heartily.

We rounded a bend a little later, and the fall came in sight. It was perhaps a mile away and was a long rapid, rather than a fall. There was no thought of ascending it with the boat. Already the current was very swift, and the shores narrowing together. We headed in for the bank. Landing proved a hard job, for the bank here was rather high, and very steep. We had to unload most of our things and carry them up in our arms. By

the time we got everything up we were too tired to attempt to climb the long hill which we now saw rose ahead of us. It was this rise that formed the rapid, and against it the snow had blown and drifted, though this was all the better for us, as it made the ascent easier for the boat, which would have been hard to push up over rough, bare rocks. To-morrow morning we would know what lay beyond that hill. To-night we were resting, and getting strength from the "skipteroon " for a long tug. Zar had promised to sing "Brown Cows" to me, and perhaps for the last time, for Edith Gale's voice when I had called to her just now was barely audible, even though she must have spoken very loudly. I was obliged to shout to make her hear, which made any expression of tenderness between us somewhat difficult. Zar's voice, however, would probably carry.

XXVI.

THE WELCOME TO THE UNKNOWN.

AND now came the day of days! Early in the morning we reloaded our boat, and set out eagerly. The wind helped us somewhat in our upward pull but it was a hard tug. Often we propped our load, and halted for breath. The hill seemed to grow longer as we ascended.

66

Nick," said Gale, "I believe this is the South Pole, and that we're climbing it."

"It isn't quite that," I said, "but it may be the end of the bare rocks and snow. I shouldn't wonder if all this bare rock has had the dirt washed off by the million years or so of melting drifts. We've already seen dirt along the river bank, and there should be more of it where the snow ends. If this is the place, it explains this rise."

We tugged on and up. When at last we were within a stone's throw of the summit, our eagerness made us silent. We halted once more before the final effort.

Nick," panted Gale, "it's the Promised Land. You're entitled to the first look. Go on ahead, and come back and tell us."