We spent two days in the Yukon, resting ourselves and giving our animals a chance to restore their strength. Our hospitable hosts said we were free to do what we liked provided we did not leave the hotel. To see that we did not go AWOL, they posted two plainclothesmen by our door. On the third day we harnessed our animals and went on our way.
   We shot through the Yukon in a couple of hours, reached the Bering Strait and set course for Chukotka. The going was good as far as St. Lawrence Island, but there we ran into a stretch of broken ice and got stuck before a wide crack.   We pitched camp on ice, waiting for the ice-fields to drift together again. We had no special reason to hurry, as we had a large stock of pemmican, fish and frozen hazel-grouse.
  And then there was the milk from the cow. In short, there was no danger of starvation, but we did suffer from cold. There was no firewood, and we sat huddled together for warmth, shivering. Fooks was more afflicted than the rest of us: his moustache and whiskers were a mass of icicles, and he kept whining and complaining. Lom was not much better off.
   I saw something had to be done to warm up the crew. I sat there recalling various kinds of fuel. Firewood, coal, kerosene - we had no chance of getting hold of those. Then I remembered a conjurer in a circus who brought water to a boil by just looking at it fixedly.
   Why not try it? After all I had an iron will and probably a magnetic gaze too. I fixed my eyes on a block of ice. Nothing happened. It did not even melt. It became clear to me that what I had seen in that circus was merely a trick, a hocus-pocus. Let me think, what does it remind me of?
   Hocus, pocus, focus... Eureka! As soon as I thought of focus a brilliant idea was born in my mind.
   I snatched an axe and began to shape the block of ice into a lens.
   "Come on, lads!" I told my crew. "Let's set up this here gadget,"
   Lom rose grumbling:
   "What's the point of playing with blocks of ice, Captain? Isn't it cold enough as it is?"
Fooks was resentful too.
   "Gadgets! In the Red Sea I was warm in my mere shorts, gadgets or no gadgets, and here I've put on three pairs and my teeth never stop rattling. Give me a gadget to keep my jaws in place."
   "Stop the chatter!" I shouted. "Listen to my command! Raise the block of ice! Steady there! Five degrees port! A bit more..."
   And what do you think! They raised the huge magnifying glass I had shaped out of a block of ice, focussed the sun rays on ice underfoot and in a matter of seconds the pencil of rays started boring a hole in the ice, with steam bursting out with a whistle.
   We focussed the rays on our tea-kettle and it came to a boil in no time, even the lid was blown off it. In this way we had got the better of the cold. Now life became quite bearable. We fed the wolf on pemmican and the cow on hay, and all the five of us were quite comfortable. Before long the icefloes drifted together again.
   Then we harnessed our pacers and started on the last lap of our journey, making straight for Petropavlovsk-on-Kamchatka.
   Upon arrival we presented ourselves to the local authorities. I must tell you that they gave us a really smashing welcome. It appeared they had all been following our trip by newspaper reports, and had been quite worried the last few days, when our tracks had become lost in the Arctic. They could not do enough for us, feeding us fit to burst, showing us about, the local residents vying for the honour to see us as guests in their homes. We unshod the cow and gave it to the local animal farm, and as for the wolf, we made a gift of it to the kids for their school menagerie... In other words, life was just great.
   Then spring came, the ice broke up and we began to pine for the sea. Every morning we went to the seashore to hunt seals, to fish or just to gaze at the ocean.
One day, as the three of us were strolling down the seashore, Fooks decided to climb a hill. Suddenly I heard him yelling in a terrible voice:
  "Look, Captain, there she is, the Rage! Aw-aw-aw! There she is!"
   He yelled like mad and I decided something must have frightened him out of his senses. Lom and I ran to his help, and when we emerged, panting, on top of the hill, we saw-what do you think? - the Rage bearing down on us under full canvas.
   We hurried back into town. People were pouring out of the houses and making for the harbour. They let us through all right, but I caught quite a few doubtful looks.
   I did not understand anything. How could it be? The Rage had sunk before my very eyes. Moreover, there was a notation to this effect in the log - that was a document after all, not just an eye-witness story. Fooks was there too, he could confirm it all. And now it looked as though I had deserted my boat in a moment of danger.
   "We'll see," I told myself. "We'll find out what it's all about when she comes nearer."
   Well, when she did, things, far from clearing, became puzzling in the extreme. For at the helm stood another Lom, while another Fooks was on the ropes. And by the mast stood another Wrungel giving commands.
   "Impossible," I said to myself. "It cannot be. Is that really I?" I looked. Yes, none other. Then perhaps this person on the embankment was not I? I felt my stomach - it was certainly mine.
  "What the hell is happening?" I wondered. "A case of split personality? Or am I dreaming?"
   "Lom," I said, "pinch me, please."
   I could see Lom was dumbfounded too.
   But he did pinch me all the same, and so hard that I gave a yelp.
   This drew everybody's attention to us. A circle formed round Lom, Fooks and me.
   "Perhaps you will be so kind as to explain the situation,, Captain?"
   Meanwhile the Rage was putting in in the best style. Here they hanged out the fenders, tossed the sandbag end and lay alongside. My double saluted and made a bow.
   "Allow me to introduce myself," he said. "Captain Wrungel and crew. In conclusion of my global cruise I have brought my yacht to the port of Petropavlovsk-on-Kamchatka..."
   The public on the embankment cheered, while I just stood there gaping.
   Let me tell you that I am not a believer in the supernatural, but I was now wondering whether I was seeing ghosts. And cheeky ghosts too.