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He was going over with an array of discriminations that Gregory had likened to an explorer's charts and instruments. He intended to investigate the most minute and measure the most immense, to lecture continually, to dine out every evening and to write a book of some real appropriateness when he came home.
His facial expression completed his sentence. "Now I wonder," whispered Sir Richmond, and hesitated for a moment before he carried the great research into the explorer's country. "You are afraid of women?" he said, with a smile to mitigate the impertinence. "I respect them." "An element of fear." "Well, I am afraid of them then. Put it that way if you like. Anyhow I do not let myself go with them.
Something more than a triumphant, aggressive Strength was needed to the permanency of a race; and that something more was represented by poor, weak, vacillating Hearne, weeping like a woman. Horror of the massacre robbed Hearne of all an explorer's exultation. A day afterward, on July 17, he stood on the shores of the Arctic Ocean, the first white man to reach it overland in America.
To ascend a hill and say you are the first civilized man that has ever trod on this spot; to gaze around from its summit and behold a prospect over which no European eye has ever before wandered; to descry new mountains; to dart your eager glance down unexplored valleys, and unvisited glens; to trace the course of rivers whose waters no white man's boat has ever cleaved, and which tempt you onwards into the bosom of unknown lands: these are the charms of an explorer's life.
We discovered that we had read almost every explorer's book from Sir John Franklin down. We knew all about the different theories and plans of reaching the Pole. That would be something better than even a World's Fair. "We give out a good deal of money, Tremlidge and I, every year to public works and one thing or another.
On this preliminary journey he followed the presumed Lynd down for nearly one hundred and eighty miles, until he was convinced that there was an error, and that, whatever river it was, it certainly was not Leichhardt's, as neither in appearance, direction, nor position did it coincide with that explorer's description.
And we got her to tell us the way again, and we noticed the name of the street, and it was Nightingale Street, and the stairs where we had left the others was Bullamy's Causeway, because we have the true explorer's instincts, and when you can't blaze your way on trees with your axe, or lay crossed twigs like the gypsies do, it is best to remember the names of streets.
The brief visit which they enjoyed meant much to both men. In vain did Stanley plead with the doctor to go home with him. The old explorer's heart was resolute, and he set his face as a flint. He did not feel that his work was done. At length the newspaper man and his company started eastward.
He slit up the front corners, and then with comparative ease bent the entire top upward. To the explorer's eyes stood revealed a chest of cedar, its cover held with copper screws. "Now for it!" said the man. "We ought to have one of the screw-drivers from the Pauillac, but that would take too much time. I guess the knife will do."
Stanhope, as may be seen by reference to the French explorer's account of his own travels, written partly in English, where he repeatedly refers to a "pretty pickle." As for the ships, they seem to have been something between a modern whaler and old-time brigantine. Author.
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