"Luckily my kitchen did not go off with the schooner, and you shall see, Hurliguerly, if I do not make up dishes just as good as on board the _Halbrane_, so long as provisions don't grow scarce, of course--" "Well! they will not be wanting for some time to come," replied the boatswain. "We need not fear hunger, but cold, such cold as would reduce you to an icicle the minute you cease to warm your feet--cold that makes your skin crack and your skull split! Even if we had some hundreds of tons of coal--But, all things being well calculated, there is only just what will do to boil this large kettle." "And that is sacred," cried Endicott; "touching is forbidden! The kitchen before all." "And that is the reason why it never strikes you to pity yourself, you old nigger! You can always make sure of keeping your feet warm at your oven!" "What would you have, boatswain? You are a first-rate cook, or you are not. When you are, you take advantage of it; but I will remember to keep you a little place before my stove." "That's good! that's good, Endicott! Each one shall have his turn! There is no privilege, even for a boatswain! On the whole, it is better not to have to fear famine! One can fight against the cold. We shall dig holes in the iceberg, and cuddle ourselves up there. And why should we not have a general dwelling-room? We could make a cave for ourselves with pickaxes! I have heard tell that ice preserves heat. Well, let it preserve ours, and that is all I ask of it!" The hour had come for us to return to the camp and to seek our sleeping-places. Dirk Peters alone refused to be relieved of his duty as watchman of the boat, and nobody thought of disputing the post with him. Captain Len Guy and West did not enter the tents until they had made certain that Hearne and his companions had gone to their usual place of rest. I came back likewise and went to bed. I could not tell how long I had been sleeping, nor what time it was, when I found myself rolling on the ground after a violent shock. What could be happening? Was it another capsize of the iceberg? We were all up in a second, then outside the tents in the full light of a night in the polar regions. A second floating mass of enormous size had just struck our iceberg, which had "hoisted the anchor" (as the sailors say) and was drifting towards the south. An unhoped-for change in the situation had taken place. What were to be the consequences of our being no longer cast away at that place? The current was now carrying us in the direction of the pole! The first feeling of joy inspired by this conviction was, however, succeeded by all the terrors of the unknown! and what an unknown! Dirk Peters only was entirely rejoiced that we had resumed the route which, he believed, would lead us to the discovery of traces of his "poor Pym"--far other ideas occupied the minds of his companions.