Again I patiently pointed out his error, and suggested that he
referred to the elephant.

"Elephant be blowed!" he replied, scornfully. "I guess I know what I
seen. An' I seen that there thing you call a dingue, too."

Not wishing to prolong a futile discussion, I remained silent. After a
moment he wheeled around, removing his pipe from his hard mouth.

"Did you ever hear tell of Graham's Glacier?" he demanded.

"Certainly," I replied, astonished; "it's the southernmost glacier in
British America."

"Right," he said. "And did you ever hear tell of the Hudson Mountings,
mister?"

"Yes," I replied.

"What's behind 'em?" he snapped out.

"Nobody knows," I answered. "They are considered impassable."

"They ain't, though," he said, doggedly; "I've been behind 'em."

"Really!" I replied, tiring of his yarn.

"Ya-as, reely," he repeated, sullenly. Then he began to fumble and
search through the pages of his book until he found what he wanted.