The captain shook his head as he said, "Of all the nuisances I ever met with in a ship a semi-passenger is the worst. I think, Fred, I must get you bound apprentice and give you regular work to do, you good-for-nothing." We need scarcely say that the captain jested, for Fred was possessed of a spirit that cannot rest, so to speak, unless at work. He was able to do almost anything _after a fashion_, and was never idle for a moment. Even when his hands chanced to be unemployed, his brows were knitted, busily planning what to do next. "Well now, gentlemen," resumed the captain, "let us consider the order of business. The first thing that must be done now is to unstow the hold and deposit its contents on the small island astern of us, which we shall call Store Island, for brevity's sake. Get a tent pitched there, Mr. Bolton, and bank it up with snow. You can leave Grim to superintend the unloading.--Then, Mr. Saunders, do you go and set a gang of men to cut a canal through the young ice from the ship to the island. Fortunately the floes there are wide enough apart to let our quarter-boats float between them. The unshipping won't take long. Tell Buzzby to take a dozen men with him and collect moss; we'll need a large quantity for fuel, and if another storm like this comes it'll be hard work to get down to it. Send Meetuck to me when you go on deck; I shall talk to him as to our prospects of finding deer hereabouts, and arrange a hunt.--Doctor, you may either join the hunting-party, or post up the observations, etc., which have accumulated of late." "Thank you, captain," said Singleton; "I'll accept the latter duty, the more willingly that I wish to have a careful examination of my botanical specimens." "And what am I to do, captain?" inquired Fred. "What you please, lad." "Then I'll go and take care of Meetuck; he's apt to get into mischief when left--" At this moment a tremendous shout of laughter, long continued, came from the deck, and a sound as if numbers of men dancing overhead was heard. The party in the cabin seized their caps and sprang up the companion ladder, where they beheld a scene that accounted for the laughter, and induced them to join in it. At first sight it seemed as if thirty Polar bears had boarded the vessel, and were executing a dance of triumph before proceeding to make a meal of the crew; but on closer inspection it became apparent that the men had undergone a strange transformation, and were capering with delight at the ridiculous appearance they presented. They were clad from head to foot in Esquimau costume, and now bore as strong a resemblance to Polar bears as man could attain to.