Then the hand of the Deliverer was extended, and the death-like
stillness of a solitude rapidly becoming unbearable was suddenly
broken by the firing of a signal-gun. I looked up in startled
amazement, when, I saw, less than a half-mile away, a
whaling-vessel bearing down toward me with her sail full set.

Evidently my continued activity on the iceberg had attracted
their attention. On drawing near, they put out a boat, and,
descending cautiously to the water's edge, I was rescued, and
a little later lifted on board the whaling-ship.

I found it was a Scotch whaler, "The Arlington." She had cleared
from Dundee in September, and started immediately for the
Antarctic, in search of whales. The captain, Angus MacPherson,
seemed kindly disposed, but in matters of discipline, as I soon
learned, possessed of an iron will. When I attempted to tell him
that I had come from the "inside" of the earth, the captain and
mate looked at each other, shook their heads, and insisted on my
being put in a bunk under strict surveillance of the ship's
physician.

I was very weak for want of food, and had not slept for many
hours. However, after a few days' rest, I got up one morning and
dressed myself without asking permission of the physician or
anyone else, and told them that I was as sane as anyone.

The captain sent for me and again questioned me concerning where
I had come from, and how I came to be alone on an iceberg in the
far off Antarctic Ocean. I replied that I had just come from the