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- Жюль Верн
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- Ледяной сфинкс
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Mist
,
everywhere
!
Nay
,
more
than
mist
,
a
thick
yellow
,
mouldy
-
smelling
fog
.
And
more
than
this
again
;
the
temperature
had
fallen
sensibly
:
this
was
probably
a
forewarning
of
the
austral
winter
.
The
summit
of
our
ice
-
mountain
was
lost
in
vapour
,
in
a
fog
which
would
not
resolve
itself
into
rain
,
but
would
continue
to
muffle
up
the
horizon
.
“
Bad
luck
!
”
said
the
boatswain
,
“
for
now
if
we
were
to
pass
by
land
we
should
not
perceive
it
.
”
”
And
our
drift
?
”
“
More
considerable
than
yesterday
,
Mr
.
Jeorling
.
The
captain
has
sounded
,
and
he
makes
the
speed
no
less
than
between
three
and
four
miles
.
”
“
And
what
do
you
conclude
from
this
?
”
“
I
conclude
that
we
must
be
within
a
narrower
sea
,
since
the
current
is
so
strong
.
I
should
not
be
surprised
if
we
had
land
on
both
sides
of
us
within
ten
or
fifteen
miles
.
”
“
This
,
then
,
would
be
a
wide
strait
that
cuts
the
antarctic
continent
?
”
“
Yes
.
Our
captain
is
of
that
opinion
.
”
“
And
,
holding
that
opinion
,
is
he
not
going
to
make
an
attempt
to
reach
one
or
other
of
the
coasts
of
this
strait
?
”
