But the Esquimaux guide seemed to be in no dilemma. He gave one look about, after reaching the main shore, and then, with Washington helping him pull the sled, started off across the ice. It was no easy path for the adventurers to follow. There were little hills and hollows, many rough and few smooth places. Their feet were weary before they had gone two miles. But the native did not seem to tire. "I declare to goodness I'se dat kerflusteredcated dat I can't extradition myself forward in dis line ob progression de leastest moment longer!" exclaimed Washington at length, coming to a halt. "I'se prognosticated in de lower extremities!" "I suppose he means he's too tired to go any further and his legs ache," translated Professor Henderson. "Well, he takes a lot of words, but I guess his condition is about like that of all of us. I'm tired too." One after another all admitted that they felt the need of rest. At the professor's direction they came to a halt under the shelter of an ice hill, that kept off some of the wind. Here they made some sort of a meal of the condensed food. This served to render their fatigue a little less, and, after an hour's rest, they started off again. There did not seem to be much need of dragging along the sled, which was useless without dogs to pull it, but the vehicles are scarce and hard to make, so, doubtless, the Esquimaux did not want to desert his property. Mile after mile the refugees traversed. It was hard work and walking over the humpy ice was quite different from anything the adventurers were used to, and their feet ached very much. But they knew their only safety was in keeping on. The cold was terrible. They had no instruments for telling how low the mercury might be, but the professor ventured a guess that it was at seventy degrees below zero. The wind, too, sprang up, and adding to the unpleasant situation the sky was overcast with heavy clouds that threatened a snow storm. That would mean a calamity which might bring to an untimely end the brave men and boys who had dared so much in the search for the north pole. A blinding fall of the white flakes would result in the guide losing his way, and they might all perish. So they hurried on, anxious to get to the _Monarch_, if they were lucky enough to find her. There was no use asking the guide any questions or trying to learn how much farther they had to go. Professor Henderson tried to learn from him if the journey would last much longer, but the Esquimaux only shook his head, pointed in advance, and uttered but one word: "Ship!" They kept on for several hours more. Their pace was slow, for all of the adventurers, men and boys, were foot-sore and weary. The guide, however, did not seem to mind it. Tom and Bill took turns relieving Washington at helping pull the sled.