in any direction, except along the borders of the sea where there was a little band, such as is commonly seen in all arctic regions.  The clayey soil was covered with abundant vegetation, consisting of mossy grasses and lichens.  The coast was enlivened by great numbers of wild geese and walruses.  A white bear displayed himself on top of a rock.  If it had not been for the fog which cast a gray mantle over everything, the general aspect of this famous Cape Tchelynskin was not particularly disagreeable; certainly there was nothing to justify the name of Cape Severe, which it had borne for three centuries.

As they advanced to the extreme point at the west of the bay, the travelers perceived a sort of monument that crowned a height, and naturally pressed forward to visit it.  They saw, as they approached, that it was a sort of “cairn,” or mass of stones supporting a wooden column made out of a post.  This column bore two inscriptions; the first read as follows: 

     “On the 19th of August, 1878, the ‘Vega’ left the Atlantic to
     double Cape Tchelynskin, en route for Behring’s Straits.”

The second read: 

     “On the 12th of August, 1879, the ‘Albatross,’ coming from
     Behring’s Straits, doubled Cape Tchelynskin, en route for the
     Atlantic.”

Once again Tudor Brown had preceded the “Alaska.”  It was now the 16th of August.

He had written this inscription only four days previously.

In Erik’s eyes it appeared cruel and ironical; it seemed to him to say:  “I will defeat you at every turn.  All your efforts will be useless.  Nordenskiold has solved the problem.  Tudor Brown, the counter proof.”

As for himself he would return humiliated and ashamed, without having demonstrated, found or proved anything.  He was going without adding a single word to the inscriptions on the column.  But Dr. Schwaryencrona would not listen to him, and taking out his knife from his pocket he wrote on the bottom of the post these words: 

“On the 16th of August, 1879, the ‘Alaska’ left Stockholm, and came here across the Atlantic and the Siberian Sea, and has doubled Cape Tchelynskin, en route to accomplish the first circumpolar periplus.”

There is a strange power in words.  This simple phrase recalled to Erik what a geographical feat he was in hopes of accomplishing, and without his being conscious of it restored him to good humor.  It was true, after all, that the “Alaska” would be the first vessel to accomplish this voyage.  Other navigators before him had sailed through the arctic-American seas, and accomplished the northwest passage.  Nordenskiold and Tudor Brown had doubled Cape Tchelynskin; but no person had as yet gone from one to the other, completely around the pole, completing the three hundred and sixty degrees.

This prospect restored every one’s ardor, and they were eager to depart.  Erik thought it best, however, to wait until the next day and see if the fog would lift; but fogs appeared to be the chronic malady of Cape Tchelynskin, and when next morning the sun rose without dissipating it, he gave orders to hoist the anchor.