She doesn't know," added almost confidentially, "that Timothy ever showed me how." "'Tis just as well, I suppose," murmured Ross. Arethusa had proved an apt pupil to Timothy's friendly instructions when he had come home from college and passed on his acquirements in the art terpsichorean.
Ross had only a very vague idea of the polar regions, but he was sure that they could easily swallow up the unwary forever. "Maybe only a hundred or so, boy. But I have more than one plan, and I'm willing to risk my neck. Do you think I intend to start out blind?" There was that, of course. Ross had early sized up his visitor as one who was first of all interested in his own welfare.
Lawrence, and had the agility of a monkey in climbing up to the top of the masts. The unfortunate fellow was left stranded in that wild country, and so, out of sympathy for the poor exile, Mr Ross had given him work and a home, until he could return to his own people.
The two chairs solemnly began to rock back and forth on their heels, causing the Spinning Wheel to go off into fits of uncontrollable laughter, and Betsy Ross, hearing George's knock, rose to answer it, but, catching sight of the two rocking chairs, promptly doubled up on the floor instead of letting George in. "I can't do anything if they're going to rock," gasped Betsy.
Loketh came up, his limp making him awkward so that he clutched at the rail for support. In his other hand was one of the hooked swords bared and ready. "Get the murderers!" Someone in the back line of the massing crew yipped that. Ross drew his diver's knife. Shaken at this sudden change in the crew's attitude, he was warily on the defensive.
"I don't know much about those things," said Ross politely. "I can see that you're right to ingratiate yourself with those working chaps. It will stand you in good stead when you get on top and have to manage them." Arthur laughed, and so did Ross. They eyed each the other with covert hostility. "Poor creature!" thought Ross. And "Pup!" thought Arthur. "How could I have wanted Del to marry him?"
I think that no more remarkable story of human endeavour has been revealed than the tale of that long march which I have collated from various diaries. Unfortunately, the diary of the leader of this side of the Expedition was lost with him. The outstanding feature of the Ross Sea side was the journey made by these six men.
Since the last voyage of the good captain, a very unfrequent phenomenon would seem to have taken place the lofty slender palms were transformed into miserable underwood, and, at the narrowest point, the mainland was at least half a mile from the island. Strange to say, Mr. Ross afterwards gave the same description of the place; he believed the captain in preference to his own eyes.
You don't suppose we'd go to work and bother to brisken things up fer that old gentleman, do you?" "I meant young Mr. Fisbee he is the other editor, isn't he?" "Oh!" said Ross, coughing. "Young Mr. Fisbee? Yes; we put 'em up fer him." "You did! Did he appreciate them?" "Well he seemed to kind of like 'em." "Where is he now? I came here to find him." "He's gone." "Gone?
Beat him, I say, but Macdonald Bhain says 'Tied him' Aleck McRae, who thinks himself so mighty smart with his team." Don forgot in his excitement that the McRaes and their friends were there in numbers. "So he is," cried Annie Ross, one of Aleck's admirers. "There is not a man in the Indian Lands that can beat Aleck and his team." "Well," exulted Don, "a boy came pretty near it to-day."