After this I had nothing to say, nor was there anything left for us but to drift wherever the current might carry us.
So we drifted for some days, Agnew all the time maintaining that we were going north, while I was sure that we were going south.

The sky remained as cloudy as ever, the wind varied incessantly, and there was nothing by which we could conjecture the points of the compass.

We lived on our seal, and for drink we chewed ice and snow.

One thing was certain--the climate was no colder.

Agnew laid great stress on this.
"You see," said he, "we must be going north.