"I think not," he answered reflectively. "We have already more treasure than we can conveniently carry. I would rather spend the time in a superficial inspection of our new dominion than in digging wealth out of a hole which cannot be transported. If we should ever return it will be time enough to look up the mines, but where their product is so easily obtained as from these people, it seems hardly worth while to work for. However, if you wish it, we will go on a mining tour, and stake our claims, though I am sure no one will ever dispute them." I agreed with him that we would better pursue our journey, as vast distances were to be traversed ere we could form the most indifferent conception of what awaited us in the continents, oceans, civilizations and cities. As yet we had only seen one little corner. We must make our way as rapidly as possible, and be content, for the present, with a bird’s-eye view. And so, having retreated to a short distance from the gate, we lowered Tuzu to the ground. When fairly upon our way again we sacked up about fifteen bushels of jewels, which in addition to the gold, made us very short of room. Indeed, our saloon was so crowded that we went stumbling about over bags of treasure, like the miser of Benadin. Torrence now put on high speed and we swept over the country at the rate of forty miles an hour. We soon passed the noisy crowd returning to the city, with jangling bells and flowing mane, and they sent up a shout as we flew over their heads that spoke of good humor and general satisfaction. We had lost some valuable time, but were in a fair way to make it up, and looked forward to the great unknown with a keener interest than ever. "How far do you propose to penetrate into the new world?" I inquired, as we sat on deck smoking our cigars through the rushing air. "All the way," he answered. "You must remember it will take us as long to return as it does to go," I replied. "Return!" he exclaimed with surprise; "surely you don’t expect to return." "Rather! Do you intend to live here always?" "Not at all," said Torrence; "I expect to go out through the opening at the South Pole!" This was a new idea to me; but suddenly a thought struck me with horror. "Do you not know it will be the depth of winter, and dark as Erebus when we get there?" I exclaimed. "I admit that it will be both dark and cold," he replied, "although not quite the depth of winter, if we maintain anything approaching our present rate of speed. You must remember we shall have left the shortest day—June 21st—behind us." "At best it will be but a matter of a few weeks, and I still claim that it will be the depth of winter." "Practically," said Torrence, "it will." He spoke with as much indifference as if he were merely going to walk down the street. "We shall be frozen corpses if you attempt such a thing, and I must beg you to give up an idea so thoroughly impracticable."