A man was lowered over the side, and hacked off a fragment which was hauled on board. The Captain chipped out pieces of the white and the clear ice and tasted of them. Then he flung them overboard. “You win!” he laughed, “I’m out of it, down here.” “What’s that brown color on it?” asked Edith Gale. “Dirt,” said the Captain. “Comes from the shore.” “Captain,” I objected, “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to differ with you again.” “What is it, then, if it ain’t dirt?” he grumbled. “A growth,” I replied, “a plant—at least, I think it is. I can’t be sure, for I have never seen it before, but former explorers have reported an algæ as giving such an appearance to old ice, and I think I can show that this is what they found.” I ran down to my stateroom, and presently returned with a powerful microscope—a treasure from boyhood. I placed it upon a small table and putting a bit of the brown color on a slide adjusted the lenses. Then I beckoned to the Captain. He came and squinted into the glass steadily for a moment. “Humph! seaweed!” he commented. “Well, I’ll be —— Say, look here, this is your ocean, and your expedition—you can have ’em!” You see, it was my innings. Theoretically I knew more of this part of the world than any one on board, and theory was about all we had now to go on. I could see that Chauncey Gale was pleased. I suppose it had not always been easy to stand for me against the Captain’s poor opinion, and he felt that in some measure now he had been justified. Edith Gale, too, was not made less happy by these incidents, and the sailors, taking their cue from their chief officer, paid me an added and daily increasing respect. True, the Captain continued to navigate the ship, but in a general way I directed our course and experiments, and was regarded more and more as authority in matters of discussion and dispute. High up on the mainmast I had constructed for me a crow’s nest, or lookout, from which to make observations. Chauncey Gale attended to this, and did it well, as he did everything he undertook. It was a stout, comfortable barrel arrangement, capable of holding three persons if necessary. When it was done I viewed it from below with interest and misgivings. I had never been aloft, and I felt that an error in reaching my perch might conclude the expedition. The eyes of the ship were upon me, however, and it would not do to hesitate. With a faint but resolute heart, I began the ascent. I did not dare to look back, and when at last I found myself safely inside the snug box, I was a bit weak and trembly, but swelling with triumph. “Let me in, too, please!” I looked down at my feet. It was Edith Gale, who had run lightly up behind me. I concealed any pride I may have had in my own accomplishment and drew her up. “How pale you are,” she said, “are you ill?” “No, oh no, it’s the—the excitement, I think.” We leaned over and waved to those below. They waved back at us and cheered. “How’s the weather up there?” called Gale.