And this is so. Borne on by the vast salt current far beneath, our giant berg, regardless of drift ice and feeble fresh-water resistance, is pushing slowly steadily to the southward, whence it came. I believe now that this salt undercurrent describes a huge circle in the Antarctic Ocean; that it bends to the eastward when it reaches the great southern barrier, thence northward, detaching and carrying with it into the upper seas these giant sections of the wall, drifting them across westward and bringing them back southward, at last, as this one is being brought, to the point of its titanic birth. The bergs we met over by the Shetlands were drifting northward. Those along the way came as we came. Some of them looked worn and travel-stained, as if they had been swinging around the circle for a long time; bruised and battered for perhaps centuries. The one we are following must be on its first trip, for it is a giant of giants, going home mighty and magnificent after its first trip abroad. And we are going with it. We shall not attempt to force our way out, and why should we? We set out for the South. We believe now—all of us, I think—that there is a land there from whence can flow a warm river. We are going to find it! XVI. FOLLOWING THE PACEMAKER. For a full month we drifted slowly with our monster berg. So slowly that at times, when the wind shifted, we were almost at a standstill, and the drift-ice was ready to shut us in. But within our big giant’s lap we were well protected, and lying idly were borne steadily to the south. We grew presently to love our big protector, and had the Captain’s name of Pacemaker not clung to him we should have christened him something very grand, indeed. For as a pacemaker he was not a success. An average of twenty miles a day was about the best we could do, and at times we did even worse. Still, we gave him great credit, for without him we might, as Gale said, “have gone to the wall” before we were ready to. As the days passed I found that I must change my calculations somewhat concerning the position of the barrier. I had located it not lower than 75°, but by the 25th we were below 76°, and no barrier as yet. Could it be that this undercurrent flowed _through_ the Antarctic Continent? But this, I decided, would be impossible. We were not idle during this period of drifting, and the month as a whole was one of enjoyment. When we no longer had the sun at midnight, we began preparing for winter. From the skins obtained by the sailors we rigged ourselves out in new suits, according to the best polar authorities. It was not seriously cold as yet, but with the advent of the Antarctic night who could say what cold might come? Gale was fondly referred to as Jumbo when he got properly put together. One day, however, he got down on his back and could not get up again. Then he was christened the “Turtle.”