Argument could do no good, and so we each remained true to our
belief--his leading him to hope, and mine dragging me down to despair.
At length we finished the last fragment of the seal that we had
cooked, and, finding ourselves near some firm ice, we went ashore and
cooked all that was left, using the remainder of our wood for fuel,
and all that we dared to remove from the boat. Re-embarking with this,
we drifted on as before.

Several more days passed. At last one night I was roused by Agnew. He
pointed far away to the distant horizon, where I saw a deep red glow
as of fire. We were both filled with wonder at the sight, and were
utterly unable to account for it. We knew that it could not be caused
by the sun or the moon, for it was midnight, and the cause lay on the
earth and not in the skies. It was a deep, lurid glow, extending along
the horizon, and seemed to be caused by some vast conflagration.



CHAPTER III

A WORLD OF FIRE AND DESOLATION


At the sight of that deep-red glow various feelings arose within us:
in me there was new dejection; in Agnew there was stronger hope. I
could not think but that it was our ship that was on fire, and was
burning before our eyes. Agnew thought that it was some burning
forest, and that it showed our approach to some habitable and
inhabited land. For hour after hour we watched, and all the time the