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AN INTERVIEW WITH AN EMPEROR. below the horizon. The seals were away out on the edge of the sea ice, and that was farther away, at any rate, than we could see.

True, the Emperors, most majestic of living birds, are said to conduct their royal accouchements in this region in July, that is, the depth of our winter, and it was June as yet.

But we were going in the direction of the Emperors’ rookery at Cape Crozier, and in this wonderland anything might happen.

Trudge, trudge, trudge we went, saying very little. It was no time for conversation. Those who don’t know what a polar climate is like, might think we felt cold, but no such discomfort dashed our elated spirits.

This goodly portion of the Earth’s fair surface was ours. No polluting foot save ours defaced its virgin solitudes. We might fare where we list; none could say us nay.

No “TRESPASSERS WILL BE PROSECUTED.” here – No “PRIVATE GROUNDS, NO THOROUGHFARE.”

No uniformed park-ranger, or corduroyed gamekeeper could bar our way, with horrid threats, and