only badly disposed, but so exhausted that they could not possibly continue such fatiguing efforts, and for twenty-four hours they had remained absolutely stationary in sight of Isle Baring. And yet the temperature was always getting lower, for it was far on now in July. On the 24th the thermometer fell to 22°. Young ice formed during the night of considerable thickness, and should snow come down, it would soon be firm enough to bear a man's weight. There was a gray, dirty look about the sea already which betokened the commencement of the process of crystallization.
There was no mistaking these alarming symptoms. Should the leads close, Hatteras would be obliged to winter here without having gained his object, or even caught a glimpse of the open basin which was so close at hand, if the reports of his predecessors had been correct. He determined to push forward at all risks, and as he could not use the oars in the present wornout state of his men, nor the sails, for the wind was contrary, he gave orders to kindle the furnaces.
CHAPTER XXI
BEGINNINGS OF MUTINY
This unexpected command occasioned great surprise on board the Forward, and loud exclamations were heard on all sides. Shandon looked fixedly at Wall, and the engineers stood perfectly stupefied.
"Did you hear me?" shouted the captain in an angry tone.
Brunton moved towards the hatchway, but stopped short again as a voice called out: "Don't go, Brunton!"
"Who spoke?" exclaimed Hatteras.
"It was I that spoke," said Pen, boldly, going up to the captain.
"And you said———"
"I said and I say," interrupted Pen with an oath, "that we have had enough of this work? that we are not going farther; that we neither intend to be killed with hard work, nor frozen to death in the winter; and that the furnaces shall not be lighted!"
