Page:Twenty Thousand Verne Frith 1876.pdf/36

 to some Canadian Homer chanting an Iliad of the Arctic regions. I am now describing this hardy companion as I actually knew him. We have become quite old friends, united by the unalterable band of friendship, which is born of and cemented by the most terrible experiences in common. Ah, brave Ned, I only ask to live a hundred years so as to think the longer of you!

And now what was Ned Land’s opinion respecting this marine monster? I should state that he scarcely credited the unicorn theory, and was the only one on board who did not share in the general conviction. He even avoided the subject, upon which I thought he ought to have entered some day.

One lovely evening, the 30th July, that is to say, three weeks after our departure, the frigate was about thirty miles to windward of Cape Blanco, on the coast of Patagonia. We had passed the tropic of Capricorn, and the straits of Magellan were scarcely 700 miles to the south. Before eight days had passed the Abraham Lincoln would be ploughing the waters of the Pacific.

Sitting on the poop, Ned Land and I were chatting of various things, watching that mysterious sea whose depths are still inaccessible to human research. I led the conversation up to the subject of the gigantic unicorn, and treated of the chances of success or failure of our expedition. Then perceiving that Ned permitted me to speak without replying, I put the direct question:

“How is it, Ned, that you cannot be convinced of the existence of this cetacean we are pursuing? Have you any particular reasons for being so incredulous?”