CHAPTER XII
CAPTAIN HATTERAS
The Forward steamed rapidly along through the open channel. Johnson took the wheel himself, and Shandon kept a vigilant look-out on the horizon. His joy was of short duration, for he soon saw that the channel terminated in a circle of mountains.
However, he determined to go on and take his chance, rather than turn back.
The dog ran beside the brig on the ice, but kept a good distance off. Strangely enough, however, if he got too far behind, a peculiar whistle was heard, which recalled him immediatly.
The first time this whistle was noticed, the sailors were all on deck. They looked about, but no stranger could be seen far or near, and yet the whistle was distinctly repeated several times.
Clifton was the first to sound an alarm.
"Do you hear that?" he asked; "and, look, how the animal bounds along when he is called."
"It is quite incredible," replied Gripper.
"This finishes it," exclaimed Pen. I'll go no farther."
"Pen is right," said Brunton. "It is tempting Heaven."
"Tempting the fiend!" replied Clifton. "I'd rather lose my share than go another step."
"We shall never return," said Bolton, in a dejected tone.
It was clear the crew were ripe for mutiny.
"Not another step! Are we all agreed on that?"
"Yes!" was the unanimous reply.
"Well, then," said Bolton, "let us go to Shandon; I'll be spokesman."
Off they went in a body to the poop.
The Forward was just entering at that moment a vast amphitheatre, perhaps about eight hundred feet in diameter, without a single outlet save the passage by which they had reached it.
Shandon felt he had imprisoned his ship and himself, but what was to be done? A heavy responsibility rested on his shoulders.
The Doctor folded his arms and silently gazed at the surrounding ice-walls, the average height of which was three hundred feet.
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