regions. At any rate, though I resolved not again to speak of the matter to the captain, I lost no opportunity of sounding the boatswain. Often when he had finished his work, Hurliguerly would come and join me; we would chat, and we would compare our recollections of travel.
One day as we were seated on the summit of the iceberg, gazing fixedly on the deceptive horizon, he exclaimed,—
"Who could ever have imagined, Mr. Jeorling, when the Halbrane left Kerguelen, that six and a half months afterwards she would be stuck on the side of an ice-mountain?"
"A fact much more to be regretted," I replied, "because only for that accident we should have attained our object, and we should have begun our return journey."
"I don't mean to contradict," replied the boatswain, "but you say we should have attained our object. Do you mean by that, that we should have found our countrymen?"
"Perhaps."
"I can scarcely believe such would have been the case, Mr. Jeorling, although this was the principal and perhaps even the only object of our navigation in the polar-seas."
"The only one—yes—at the start," I insinuated. "But since the half-breed's revelations about Arthur Pym—"
"Ah! You are always harking back on that subject, like brave Dirk Peters."
"Always, Hurliguerly; and only that a deplorable and unforeseen accident made us run aground—"
"I leave you to your delusions, Mr. Jeorling, since you believe you have run aground—"
