And so they renewed their struggle to fight off the gnawing cold, cheered somewhat by the probabilities that when the storm blew over they would see land.
It was two hours later when the wind slackened perceptibly and the snow ceased to fall. With shouts of joy the boys then saw, about a mile away, across the dashing waves, a line of black cliffs, streaked with snow.
“Now if we could only find some way to float in on those breakers. But I don’t see how we could take a chance on a cake of ice. We couldn’t stick to it a second before we got washed off into the sea.”
“We’ll have to wait till the waves die down,” Sandy said. “If I wasn’t so weak, maybe we could paddle a chunk of ice then.”
Dick shook his head. “That might do in a story book, but even if we weren’t just about ready to drop, we couldn’t do that.”
Glumly, they began the wait for the waves to go down, tightening their belts upon flat and gnawing stomachs. With the ceasing of the storm their hunger became three times as noticeable. Had the dead seal, which had first accompanied them on the floe, still been with them, they might have tackled raw blubber, but the waves had washed the seal into the sea long before.
Though the wind had fallen, the boys found themselves little more comfortable, for the temperature began to fall alarmingly. With the passing of every hour the still air grew colder while the waves quieted under the iron hand of Jack Frost.
The boys chewed ice to cool their thirsting mouths and partially allay the great hunger that was swiftly weakening them. They could not judge the passage of time rationally now, and when Dick awakened from a stupor that had come upon him in spite of all he could do, he found the water around them almost as smooth as glass.
Staggering to his feet Dick pulled Sandy to his feet and together they gazed on a phenomenon of the north that was like a miracle in their eyes.
The open water, or lead, between the land and the berg on which they had lodged, was frozen over, and a level walk of thin ice bridged a way to safety.
“Can we walk on it?” Sandy asked in a hoarse, thick voice.
“I don’t know,” Dick replied through blue lips. “I’ll test it.”
Guiding his weakened legs by force of will alone, Dick cautiously approached the edge of the floe and placed one foot down on the ice. He bore his weight, by degrees, on the one foot. The ice cracked a little and gave downward, then as he placed the last of his weight upon the ice, it broke through. Dick saved himself from a cold bath that might, at that time, have meant the finish of him, by falling face downward on the floe and drawing himself back to safety. He would have given up then, had not a heart-rending groan from Sandy aroused in him a new determination. For he could not bear to see his chum lying there, slowly freezing, when there was an ounce of strength left in him.