THE WORLD OF ICE. 275

“Captain Guy,” said O’Riley, addressing his com-
mander with a solemn face, “haven’t ye more nor
wance towld me o’ the queer thing in the deserts they
calls the mirage?”

“T have,” answered the captain, with a puzzled look.

“ An’ didn’t ye say there was somethin’ like it in
the Polar Seas, that made ye see flags, an’ ships, an’
things o’ that sort when there was no sich things
there at all?”

“True, O'Riley, I did.”

“Faix, then, it’s my opinion that yon bears is a
mirage, an’ the sooner we git out o’ their way the
better.”

A smothered laugh greeted this solution of the
difficulty.

“I think I can give a better explanation—begging
your pardon, O’Riley,” said Captain Ellice, who had
hitherto looked on with a sly smile. “More than a
year ago, when I was driven past this place to the
northward, I took advantage of a calm to land a
supply of food, and a few stores and medicines, to be
a stand-by in case my ship should be wrecked to the
northward. Ever since the wreck actually took place
I have looked forward to this cache of provisions as a
point of refuge on my way south. As I have already
told you, I have never been able to commence the
southward journey; and now I don’t require these
things, which is lucky, for the bears seem to have
appropriated them entirely.”

“Had I known of them sooner, captain,’ said