that, instead of being an ocean it is only a strait or gulf, it will be time enough to alter it then."
"So be it," said Hatteras.
"Very well, that is an understood thing, then," said the Doctor, almost regretting that he had started a discussion so pregnant with national rivalries.
"Let us proceed with the continent where we find ourselves at present," resumed Hatteras. "I am not aware that any name whatever has been affixed to it, even in the most recent charts."
He looked at Altamont as he spoke, who met his gaze steadily, and said: "Possibly you may be mistaken again, Hatteras."
"Mistaken! What! This unknown continent, this virgin soil–––"
"Has already a name," replied Altamont, coolly.
Hatteras was silent, but his lip quivered.
"And what name has it, then?" asked the Doctor, rather astonished at Altamont's affirmation.
"My dear Clawbonny," replied the American, "it is the custom, not to say the right, of every navigator to christen the soil on which he is the first to set foot. It appears to me, therefore, that it is my privilege and duty on this occasion to exercise my prerogative, and–––"
"But, sir," interrupted Johnson, rather nettled at his sang froid.
"It would be a difficult matter to prove that the Porpoise did not come here, even supposing she reached this coast by land," continued Altamont, without noticing Johnson's protest. "The fact is indisputable," he added, looking at Hatteras.
"I dispute the claim," said the Englishman, restraining himself, by a powerful effort. "To name a country you must first discover it, I suppose, and that you certainly did not do. Besides, but for us, where would you have been, sir, at this moment, pray? Lying twenty feet deep under the snow."
"And without me, sir," retorted Altamont, hotly, "without me and my ship, where would you all be at this moment? Dead, from cold and hunger."
"Come, come, friends," said the Doctor, "don't get to words; all that can be easily settled. Listen to me."
