The other dogs followed them, and after painful struggling,
all got out again except one. Taking all the run that I could get on
my little pan, I made a dive, slithering with the impetus along the
surface till once more I sank through. After a long fight, however, I
was able to haul myself by the long traces on to this new pan, having
taken care beforehand to tie the harnesses to which I was holding
under the dogs' bellies, so that they could not slip them off. But
alas! the pan I was now on was not large enough to bear us and was
already beginning to sink, so this process had to be repeated
immediately.
I now realized that, though we had been working toward the shore, we
had been losing ground all the time, for the off-shore wind had
already driven us a hundred yards farther out. But the widening gap
kept full of the pounded ice, through which no man could possibly go.
I had decided I would rather stake my chances on a long swim even than
perish by inches on the floe, as there was no likelihood whatever of
being seen and rescued. But, keenly though I watched, not a streak
even of clear water appeared, the interminable sish rising from below
and filling every gap as it appeared. We were now resting on a piece
of ice about ten by twelve feet, which, as I found when I came to
examine it, was not ice at all, but simply snow-covered slob frozen
into a mass, and I feared it would very soon break up in the general
turmoil of the heavy sea, which was increasing as the ice drove off
shore before the wind.
Pages:
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29