"But here, within the Polar circle, what is the lowest degree?" asked Altamont.
"My word!" said the Doctor. "I think we have experienced the lowest ourselves, for one day the thermometer was 72° below zero, and, if my memory serves me right, the lowest temperature mentioned hitherto by Arctic voyagers has been 61° at Melville Island, 65° at Port Felix, and 70° at Fort Reliance."
"Yes," said Hatteras, "it was the unusual severity of the winter that barred our progress, for it came on just at the worst time possible."
"You were stopped, you say?" asked Altamont, looking fixedly at the captain.
"Yes, in our voyage west," the Doctor hastened to reply.
"Then the maximum and minimum temperatures," said Altamont, resuming the conversation, "are about 200° apart. So you see, my friends, we may make ourselves easy."
"But if the sun were suddenly extinguished," suggested Johnson, "would not the earth's temperature be far lower?"
"There is no fear of such a catastrophe; but, even should it happen, the temperature would be scarcely any different."
"It is; but Fourrier, a learned Frenchman, has proved the fact incontestably. If it were not the case, the difference between day and night would be far greater, as also the degree of cold at the Poles. But now I think, friends, we should be the better of a few hours' sleep. Who has charge of the stove?"
"Well, pray keep up a good fire, for it is a perishing night."
"Trust me for that," said Bell. "But do look out, the sky is all in a blaze."
"Ay! it is a magnificent aurora," replied the Doctor, going up to the window. "How beautiful! I never tire gazing at it."
No more he ever did, though his companions had become so used to such displays that they hardly noticed them now. He soon followed the example of the others, however, and lay down on his bed beside the fire, leaving Bell to mount guard.
It is a dreary affair to live at the Pole, for there is no going out for many long months, and nothing to break the weary monotony.
The day after the hunting excursion was dark and snowy, and Clawbonny could find no occupation except polishing up the ice walls of the hut as they became damp with the heat inside, and emptying out the snow which drifted into the long passage leading to the inner door. The "Snow-House" stood out well, defying storm and tempest, and the snow only seemed to increase the thickness of the walls.