Lieutenant Hobson shook his head as he listened to his companion’s fancy, and kept his eyes fixed upon the horizon, hoping to catch a glimpse of some land, no matter what, in the distance. But no, sea and sky met in an absolutely unbroken circular line, confirming Hobson’s opinion that Victoria Island was drifting to the west rather than in any other direction. “Lieutenant,” at last said Mrs Barnett, “don’t you mean to make a tour of our island as soon as possible?” “Yes, madam, of course; as soon as I have taken our bearings, I mean to ascertain the form and extent of our dominions. It seems, however, that the fracture was made at the isthmus itself, so that the whole peninsula has become an island.” “A strange destiny is ours, Lieutenant,” said Mrs Barnett. “Others return from their travels to add new districts to geographical maps, but we shall have to efface the supposed peninsula of Victoria!” The next day, July 18th, the sky was very clear, and at ten o’clock in the morning Hobson obtained a satisfactory altitude of the sun, and, comparing it with that of the observation of the day before, he ascertained exactly the longitude in which they were. The island was then in 157° 37’ longitude west from Greenwich. The latitude obtained the day before at noon almost immediately after the eclipse was, as we know, 73° 7’ 20” north. The spot was looked out on the map in the presence of Mrs Barnett and Sergeant Long. It was indeed a most anxious moment, and the following result was arrived at. The wandering island was moving in a westerly direction, borne along by a current unmarked on the chart, and unknown to hydrographers, which was evidently carrying it towards Behring Strait. All the dangers foreseen by Hobson were then imminent, if Victoria Island did not again touch the mainland before the winter. “But how far are we from the American continent? that is the most important point just at present,” said Mrs Barnett. Hobson took his compasses, and carefully measured the narrowest part of the sea between the coast and the seventieth parallel. “We are actually more than two hundred and fifty miles from Point Barrow, the northernmost extremity of Russian America,” he replied. “We ought to know, then, how many miles the island has drifted since it left the mainland,” said Sergeant Long. “Seven hundred miles at least,” replied Hobson, after having again consulted the chart. “And at about what time do you suppose the drifting commenced?” “Most likely towards the end of April; the ice-field broke up then, and the icebergs which escaped melting drew back to the north. We may, therefore, conclude that Victoria Island has been moving along with the current parallel with the coast at an average rate of ten miles a day.” “No very rapid pace after all!” exclaimed Mrs Barnett. “Too fast, madam, when you think where we may be taken during the two months in which the sea will remain open in this part of the Arctic Ocean.”