Discourses of Deep Things.  
The islet, or rock, for it was little more, which the explorers had reached, was low and extremely barren. Nevertheless it had on it a large colony of sea-fowl, which received the strangers with their wonted clamour of indignation—if not of welcome.
 
As it was near noon at the time, the Captain and Leo went with their sextants to the highest part of the island to ascertain its position; the Eskimos set about making an encampment, unloading the boats, etcetera, and Alf, with hammer and botanical box, set off on a short ramble along the coast, accompanied by Benjy and Butterface.
 
Sometimes these three kept together and chatted, at other times they separated a little, each attracted by some object of interest, or following the lead, it might have been, of wayward fancy. But they never lost sight of each other, and, after a couple of hours, converged, as if by tacit consent, until they met and sat down to rest on a ledge of rock.
 
“Well, I do like this sort o’ thing,” remarked Benjy, as he wiped his heated brow. “There is something to me so pleasant and peaceful about a low rocky shore with the sun blazing overhead and the great sea stretching out flat and white in a dead calm with just ripple enough to let you know it is all alive and hearty—only resting, like a good-humoured and sleepy giant.”
 
“Why, Ben, I declare you are becoming poetical,” said Alf with a smile; “your conceptions correspond with those of Buzzby, who writes:—
 
    “‘Great Ocean, slumb’ring in majestic calm,
 
    Lies like a mighty—a mighty—’
 
“I—I fear I’ve forgotten. Let me see:—
 
    “‘Great Ocean, slumb’ring in majestic calm,
 
    Lies like a mighty—’”
 
“Giant in a dwalm,” suggested Benjy.
 
“We’ll change the subject,” said Alf, opening his botanical box and taking out several specimens of plants and rocks. “See, here are some bits of rock of a kind that are quite new to me.”
 
“What’s de use ob dem?” inquired Butterface with a look of earnest simplicity.
 
“The use?” said Benjy, taking on himself to reply; “why, you flat-nosed grampus, don’t you know that these bits of rock are made for the express purpose of being carried home, identified, classified, labelled, stuck up in a museum, and stared at by wondering ignoramuses, who care nothing whatever about them, and know less. Geologists are constantly going about the world with their little hammers keeping up the supply.”
 
“Yes, Butterface,” said Alf, “Benjy is partly correct; such specimens will be treated as he describes, and be stared at in blank stupidity by hundreds of fellows like himself, but they will also be examined and understood by geologists, who from their profound knowledge of the plans which our Creator seems to have had in arranging the materials of the earth, are able to point out many interesting and useful facts which are not visible to the naked and unscientific eye, such, for instance, as the localities where coal and other precious things may be found.”
 
“Kin dey tell whar’ gold is to be found, massa Alf?”
 
“O yes, they can tell that.”
 
“Den it’s dis yer chile as wishes,” said Butterface with a sigh, “dat he was a jollygist.”
 
“Oh! Butterface, you’re a jolly goose at all events,” said Benjy; “wouldn’t it be fun to go and discover a gold mine, and dig up as much as would keep us in happy idleness all the rest of our lives? But I say, Alf, have you nothing better than geological specimens in your box—no grubological specimens, eh?”
 
Alf replied by producing from his box a paper parcel which contained some of the required specimens in the shape of biscuit and pemmican.
 
“Capital! Well, you are a good fellow, Alf. Let us make a table-cloth of the paper—now, you undisciplined black, don’t glare so at the victuals, else you’ll grow too hungry for a moderate supply.”
 
When the trio were in the full swing of vigorous feeding, the negro paused, with his mouth full, to ask Alf what would be the use of the North Pole when it was discovered.
 
“Make matches or firewood of it,” said Benjy just as he was about to stop up his impudent mouth with a lump of pemmican.
 
“Truly, of what use the Pole itself may be—supposing it to exist in the form of a thing,” said Alf, “I cannot tell, but it has already been of great use in creating expeditions to the Polar regions. You know well enough, Butterface, for you’ve been round the Capes of Good Hope and Horn often enough, what a long long voyage it is to the eastern seas, on the other side of the world, and what a saving of time and expense it would be if we could find a shorter route to those regions, from which so many of our necessaries and luxuries come. Now, if we could only discover an open sea in the Arctic regions which would allow our ships to sail in a straight line from England across the North Pole to Behring’s Straits, the voyage to the East would be reduced to only about 5000 miles, and we should be able to reach Japan in three or four weeks. Just think what an advantage that would be to commerce!”
 
“Tea at twopence a pound an’ sugar to match—not to mention molasses and baccy, you ignorant nigger!” said Benjy;—“pass the biscuits.”
 
“An’ now, massa Alf,” said Butterface with an eager look, “we’s diskivered dis open sea—eh!”
 
“Well, it seems as if we had.”
 
“But what good will it do us,” argued Benjy, becoming more earnest in the discussion, “if it’s all surrounded by a ring of ice such as we have passed over on sledges.”
 
“If,” repeated Alf, “in that ‘if’ lies the whole question. No doubt Enterprise has fought heroically for centuries to overleap this supposed ring of ice, and science has stood expectant on the edge, looking eagerly for the day when human perseverance shall reveal the secrets of the Far North. It is true, also, that we at last appear to have penetrated into the great unknown, but who shall say that the so-called ice-ring has been fully examined? Our explorations have been hitherto confined to one or two parts of it. We may yet find an ever-open entrance to this open Polar sea, and our ships may yet be seen sailing regularly to and fro over the North Pole.”
 
“Just so,” said Benjy, “a North Pole steam line once a month to Japan and back—first class accommodation for second class fares. Walrus and white bear parties dropped on the way at the Pole Star Hotel, an easy trip from the Pole it............