To the lovers of the awfully sublime, it would have been worth a journey around the earth.

It seemed as if all the vast antagonistic forces of Nature had been suddenly confronted with each other.

The schooner had been hove to in the lee of an ice-field engirdling one of the smaller islets, with all sail taken in save the jib.

Weymouth was at the wheel; the captain stood near him; Hobbs and Donovan were in the bow; Bonney stood by the jib-halliards.

On the port side the ice-field showed like a pavement of alabaster on a sea of ink, contrasting wildly with the black, rolling clouds, which, like the folds of a huge shroud, draped the heavens in darkness.