examined first this chart, then that one. Some of the charts were new,
just from the hands of the hydrographic bureau. These belonged to the
craft. Others were soiled and torn; patched here and there, or reinforced
by cloth from a discarded shirt. These belonged to Jarvis, himself; had
been with him on many a journey and were now most often consulted.

"Near's h'I can make it, sir," he said, at last, "we're some two hundred
miles from Point Hope on the Alaska shores and a bit farther from a point
on the Russian shore, which the natives call On-na-tak, though what the
place is like h'I can't say, never 'aving been there. Far's h'I know, no
white man's been there, h'either; leastwise, not in our generation."

He studied the charts and made one further observation:

"Far's h'I can tell, sir," he smiled, "On-na-tak's h'our only chance.
Current sets that way h'at three knots an hour. That means we'll drift
there in four or five days. There'll be driftwood on the beach, and, with
good luck, we can fix 'er up there. Mayhap there's coal in the banks by
the sea, and that's greater luck for us if there is."

The Doctor, who had sat all this time in silence, smoking his black
cigars, now rose and began pacing the deck.

"Four or five days? Four or five, did you say? Great Creation! That will
mean the losing of the race!"

Jarvis nodded his head.

"H'anything less would mean that and more," said the old engineer. "Going
down with such a shaft would mean death to all of us."