Dick asked several pointed questions regarding what the policemen intended doing now that they had reached the northern coast, but both the Corporal and the Constable were evasive. Dick was not the sort of lad who became meddlesome or troublesomely inquisitive, so he went no further. When Sandy and he were again alone, they discussed the approach of the polar winter, wondering how they would weather it and admiring that heroic explorer of the past who had gone so far as to reach the north pole, making the name of Robert Peary famous for all time.
A little later, when they had turned out their stove, preparatory to crawling into their sleeping bags, they became aware how difficult it was to sleep with the yellow radiance of the sun still pervading the inside of the igloo. The windows were not clear enough for the light to be bright, but, nevertheless, the absence of darkness made them so restless, they decided to get up and go outside.
They found the sun hanging low over the horizon, a pale ball of yellow, pouring its rays over the bleak and desolate northland.
“How strange it seems!” cried Dick. “Just think—at Fort Good Faith it’s nice and dark and maybe the moon is up. I wonder what the folks at home would say if they knew we were at this very minute seeing the midnight sun.”
“It hardly seems possible we’re a thousand miles farther north than we’ve ever been,” Sandy spoke awedly.
But tired muscles and the intense cold soon made their eyes heavy, and in spite of the sun they went back to their sleeping bags.
Dick could not sleep, however. The sunlight, the excessive amount of black tea he had drunk, and the exhaustive efforts of the day combined to keep him awake. He tossed in his warm bag wishing he had the ability to sleep as soundly and quickly as Sandy, whose snores he could plainly hear.
The oil stove had warmed the igloo quite thoroughly—enough so that Dick felt slightly uncomfortable, though it was more than forty below zero outside. He wriggled restlessly and looked out of his sleeping bag, gazing up at the white dome of the igloo ceiling. He was about ready to turn over and try harder to sleep, when he thought he heard something brush against the igloo roof at a level with the snow outside. At first he believed it was only a prowling dog, and was determined to ignore it, when there came plainly to his ears the crunch of a footfall in the snow.