to be awaiting an opportunity to accomplish his wicked designs.
The lemon-juice somewhat relieved old Cornbutte, but it was necessary to continue the remedy. Marie begged Vasling on her knees to produce the lemons, but he did not reply, and soon Penellan heard the wretch say to his accomplices: "The old fellow is dying. Gervique, Gradlin, and Nouquet are not much better. The others are daily losing their strength. The time is near when their lives will belong to us!"
It was then resolved by Louis Cornbutte and his adherents not to wait, and lose the little strength still remaining to them. They determined to act the next night, and to kill these wretches, so as not to be killed by them.
The temperature rose a little. Louis Cornbutte ventured to go out with his gun in search of some game. He proceeded some three miles from the ship, and, deceived by the effects of the mirage and refraction, he went farther than he intended. It was imprudent, for recent tracks of ferocious animals were to be seen. He did not wish, however, to return without some fresh meat, and continued on his route; but he then experienced a strange feeling which turned his head. It was what is commonly called "white vertigo."
The reflection of the ice hillocks and fields affected him from head to foot, and it seemed to him that the dazzling color penetrated him and caused an irresistible nausea. His eye was attacked. His sight became uncertain. He thought he should go mad with the glare. Without fully understanding this terrible effect, he advanced on his way, and soon put up a ptarmigan, which he eagerly pursued. The bird soon fell, and in order to reach it Louis leaped from an ice-block and fell heavily; for the leap was at least ten feet, and the refraction made him think it was only two. The vertigo then seized him, and, without knowing why, he began to call for help, though he had not been injured by the fall. The cold began to take him, and he rose with pain, urged by the sense of self-preservation.
Suddenly, without being able to account for it, he smelt an odor of boiling fat. As the ship was between him and the wind, he supposed that this odor proceeded from her, and could not imagine why they should be cooking fat,
