Another Island discovered—The Englishmen and Eskimos alike are Astonished in more Ways than one.  
As Chingatok had predicted, on the sixth day from Home-in-sight Island the party came to another island, where the great pack abruptly terminated. It was not large, probably ten or twelve miles in length, from the Eskimo account, but the ends of it could not be seen from the spot where they landed. At that point it was only two miles wide, and on the opposite side its shores were laved by an open sea, which was quite free from ice, with the exception of a few scattered floes and bergs—a sea whose waves fell in slow regular cadence on a pebbly beach, and whose horizon was an unbroken line barely distinguishable from the sky.
 
Close to it a few black rocks showed above the water, around which great numbers of gulls, puffins, and other sea-birds disported themselves in clamorous joy; sometimes flying to the shore as if to have a look at the newcomers, and then sheering off with a scream—it might be a laugh—to tell their comrades what they had seen.
 
“Here, then, at last, is the open Polar Sea,” said Captain Vane, after the first long silent gaze of joy and admiration. “I have no doubt of it whatever. And now we shall proceed, I hope without interruption, to the Pole!”
 
“Of course you do not intend that we should swim there, do you, uncle?” said Leo.
 
“Of course not, my boy. In those big cases, which have cost us so much labour to bring here, I have three large and stout india-rubber boats—”
 
“Ha! I guessed as much,” exclaimed Alf.
 
“No doubt,” returned the Captain, “but you did not guess all.”
 
“I hope not,” said Leo, “for to say truth I don’t much relish the idea of rowing over an unknown sea an unknown distance at the rate of three or four miles an hour. I hope you have a patent steam-engine that will drive us along somewhat faster.”
 
“No, lad, no, I have no such steam-engine or any other miraculous contrivance that sets the laws of nature at defiance, and appears only in nursery tales. This expedition has been undertaken on no haphazard or insane plan. It was all cut and dry before we left Old England, and it is much simpler than you suppose.”
 
“What, then, is to be your motive power, if not oars or sails—which last would not work well, I fear, in an india-rubber boat?” asked Leo.
 
“Kites,” replied the Captain.
 
“Kites!” repeated both Alf and Leo in surprise.
 
“Not paper ones, surely,” said Benjy, in a tone of disappointment, not unmingled with contempt.
 
“No, Ben, not paper ones,” said the Captain, “but you shall see. Let the boxes be unlashed and carried into yonder cave. I’ll unpack them presently. Meanwhile, Anders, I want you to interpret for me. Go, tell Chingatok I wish to have a talk with him.”
 
While the brothers went to obey their leader’s order, and Benjy to superintend the pitching of the camp, Captain Vane walked along the shore with Anders and the giant.
 
“Are you sure, Chingatok, that there is no more ice in this sea?” asked the Captain.
 
“No more great packs; only a little here and there, and a few ice-mountains,” answered the Eskimo.
 
“And no more islands?”
 
“No more islands till you come to the land where I and my people dwell. There are more islands beyond that with people on them—people who are not friendly to us.”
 
“How far off, now, is your land from this island?” continued the Captain, with a grave nod to Leo, who joined them at the moment.
 
“About three days with a kayak.”
 
The Captain pondered for a few minutes.
 
“Leo,” he said, “the observation which I took yesterday enables me to place this island in latitude 86 degrees 40 minutes. I judge that a kayak may travel at the rate of three miles an hour, which, making allowance for sleep and rests, gives the distance of this island from Chingatok’s native land approximately at about 100 miles, so that the home of this giant and his tribe is actually in the near neighbourhood of the Pole itself. If this be so, we may consider that our success, wind, weather, etcetera, permitting, is absolutely certain.”
 
The Captain spoke in the deep earnest tones of one under the influence of powerful but suppressed enthusiasm.
 
“Now then, Leo,” he continued, “we will go and take formal possession of this new discovery. What shall we call it? Good Hope is too familiar as a cape.”
 
“Why not Great Hope?” asked Leo.
 
“Good! That will do well.”
 
So Captain Vane took possession of Great Hope Island; having fixed its position in latitude 86 degrees 40 minutes north, and longitude 60 degrees west.
 
After that he proceeded to open the cases which had so long been objects of interest to his own party, and objects of intense curiosity to the Eskimos, who crowded round the entrance of the shallow cavern with eager looks, while their leader went to work with hammer and chisel on the copper fastenings.
 
“Wugh! Huk! hi! hosh! ho!” were something like the exclamations uttered by the Eskimos when the lid of the first case flew up and revealed only a mass of brown paper wrappings.
 
It was interesting to observe the utter self-oblivion of these children of nature! Of course the eyes and mouths of all opened wider and wider while the work went on. We can understand this, for it is characteristic of the simple in all nations, but it was not so easy to understand why shoulders should slowly rise and elbows be slightly bent, and the ten fingers gradually expand like claws. Anxiety might account for the way in which some of them softly lifted one foot and then the other; but why did little Oblooria raise her left foot by imperceptible degrees, and remain poised upon the other as if she were a bird, except on the supposition that she was unconsciously imitating Tekkona, who was doing the same thing?
 
It was interesting, also, to note the slight substratum of consciousness that displayed itself in Oolichuk, who, while regarding the Captain in glaring expectancy, put his arm, inadvertently as it were, round Oblooria’s waist—also the complete absence of consciousness in the latter, who was so engrossed with the Captain, that she did not appear to feel the touch of Oolichuk! These little peculiarities, however, although extremely interesting, were not observed by any of the actors on that occasion—except, perhaps, by Benjy, who, being sharp-witted, had a knack of seeing round a corner at times!
 
When the contents of the case were turned out, they proved to consist of several coils of rope, and a large square bundle. The uncording of the latter intensified the expectation of the Eskimo to boiling point, and when the brown paper was removed, and a roll of something with a strange, not to say bad, smell was displayed, they boiled over in a series of exclamations to which the former “huks” and “hos” were mere child’s play. But when the roll was unrolled, and assumed a flat shape not unlike the skin of a huge walrus, they gave a shout. Then, when the Captain, opening a smaller package, displayed a pair of bellows like a concertina, they gave a gasp. When he applied these to a hole in the flat object, and caused it slowly to swell, they uttered a roar, and when, finally, they saw the flat thing transformed into a goodly-sized boat, they absolutely squealed with delight, and began to caper about in childlike joy.
 
In this manner, three cases were opened, and three boats produced. Then the Magician, who went about his work in perfect silence, with a knowing smile on his lips, opened several longish boxes, which Leo had guessed to be filled with fishing-rods or spare rifles, but which, it turned out, contained oars for the india-rubber boats. After that, the Captain opened another large case, which roused the surprise of his white followers as much as that of the natives.
 
“It looks like one of mother’s silk dresses,” remarked Benjy, as the new wonder was dragged forth.
 
“Too voluminous for that,” said Alf.
 
“A balloon!” exclaimed Leo.
 
“No, boys, it’s only a kite,” said the Captain, unfolding it. “I confess it does not look very like one, but its appearance will change by and by.”
 
And its appearance did change remarkably as it was opened out and put together.
 
The construction of this kite was peculiar. In the first place, it was square in form, or, rather, diamond-shaped, and its size, when fully distended, was eighteen feet by fourteen.
 
“The simplicity of it, you see,” said the Captain, as he put it together, “is its great recommendation.”
 
He ceased to speak for a few moments, while engaged with a troublesome joint, and Benjy took advantage of the pause to express a hope that simplicity was not its greatest recommendation, because he had never heard of any one attempting to reach the Pole on the strength of simplicity.
 
Without noticing this remark, the Captain went on—
 
“You see it would be troublesome to carry distending sticks of great length, because they would be in the way, and apt to get broken. Each stick, therefore, has a joint in the middle like that of a fishing-rod. There are four such sticks, fastened to, or radiating from, a strong steel central hinge, so that they can be folded together, or opened out into the form of a cross. A small but very strong cross of bamboo fits on the machine, behind the central hinge, and locks it in a distended position, after the silk has been placed on it. Strong cords run round the outer edges of the silk, and there are loops at the corners to attach it to the distenders. Thus, you see, the kite can be put up, or folded into a portable form like an umbrella, though not of course as quickly, nor yet as easily, owing to its great size.”
 
While he was speaking, the Captain was busily putting the several parts of the kite together.
 
As he concluded, he laid the machine on its face, locked it with the little bamboo cross, and then held it up in triumph, to the delight of his white observers, and the blank astonishment of the Eskimos. We say blank, because, unlike the boat, the nature of which they understood before it had been quite inflated, this machine was to them an absolute mystery, and seemed to be of no use at all.
 
Their opinion of it was not improved when a sudden puff of wind blew it flat on the ground, causing the Captain to fall on the top of it.
 
“It’s a little awkward in handling,” he growled, unlocking the centre-cross. “Hold the points down, lads, till I drag it into the umbrella form. There; it’s all safe now. The truth is, unmanageableness when in hand is the only fault of my kite. Once in the air, it’s as tractable as a lamb; getting it up is the chief difficulty, but that is not too great to be overcome.”
 
“Besides, you know, nothing’s perfect in this world, father,” said Benjy, with a wink at Butterface, who, having acute risible tendencies, exploded. Some of the Eskimos, whose sympathies were strong, joined in the laugh by way of relief to their feelings.
 
When the Captain had wound a strap round the closed kite, to restrain its volatile nature, he opened another large case which contained several reels of strong cord, somewhat resembling log-lines, but with this peculiarity, that, alongside of each thick cord there ran a thin red line of twine, connected with though not bound to the other by means of little loops or rings of twine fixed about six feet apart throughout its entire length.
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