It was about here that the meteorological conditions of the atmosphere began to strike me as peculiar. The northern horizon had been subjected to a singular phenomenon for a good many hours, which I ascribed to one of those effects of light so common in these latitudes. It was simply a crescent-shaped cloud, growing in height as we advanced. At first it subtended the segment of an arc of about sixty degrees across the horizon, steadily ascending toward the zenith with our progress. But gradually this form lost its definiteness, and melted into the sky in a mellow haze, which softened the light and obscured the sun. We were glad enough to have the glare off the water, as it had been quite trying, but I was at a loss to account for the phenomenon which had abolished it. If Torrence understood this he failed to explain it to me—advising me to wait and see what would happen. I mention it here as an important fact bearing upon our future discoveries. I had never before seen so peculiar a cloud, retaining a definite form for so long a time, fixed in density and character save that the arc grew as we proceeded; and I naturally puzzled myself a good deal meditating on it. But it was not until later that I ascertained the cause of this astounding phenomenon. * * * * * Forty-eight hours after leaving the island we were still floating over the same placid sea, and without indication of land upon any point of the horizon. We were working our way along at the rate of five and twenty knots, under perfect conditions, when a thought struck me. "How far have we come since leaving the island?" I asked. Torrence looked at the indicator. "About six hundred miles," he said. "Exactly; and as Von Broekhuysen’s island is not more than two hundred and fifty from the pole, we must have passed it, and be running down on the other side of the earth. It surely can’t be long before we strike the frozen belt again; indeed we ought to be there already. But there hasn’t been a block of ice, or a bit of cold weather to speak of yet. How do you account for it?" "Don’t bother about the ice," said Torrence; "you ought to be glad we haven’t got any." "But we ought to have it," I insisted, "according to my calculations——" "Damn your calculations," he answered laughing; "didn’t I tell you I was going to show you a new world, and new continents!" "Continents! I should enjoy even a shovel full of mud at present." "Have patience; if Merrick could cross this sea in a dugout, with a cotton sheet, we surely have an equal chance of doing so; although I confess I think he must have struck a strip of land to the east or west which we have missed. But we are on a straight course and bound to come out all right if we keep on." "You expect to run down then over Alaska?" I inquired. "I expect nothing of the kind. Wait and you will see."