worked into the pack and through the lanes under the masterful handling of the Ice Pilot, who sought no rest. Coffee was brought to him by the galley boy. With this, and n

aring shrewdly toward Marr who stood with

stare, then dropped his eyes under the

t was too early to find a lane leading north or east. The ancient floes were still cemented

ut a place to get water. Find a hummock

rling drove the Pole Star. Here she was lashed to a hummock by a hawser which

mselves by a swift run upon the ice. They caught a hose thrown to them and ca

, started work on a boiler which had three leaking tubes in the tube sheet. The smallest of their numbe

oe ice, packed and cemented together, extended to the cold rim of the horizon, with no sign

e rail, thrust out his bro

mate. "I knew you could do it. Ma

ow anything

man, so he says. There's a lot of diff

ther south than I ever saw it at this time of the year. That mean

on the cap of the mizzenmast. "Good," he

ans a th

t on top. See t

crew was moving. "There's hair seals aplenty," he said. "Too bad, Sam,

"Still thinking of a rai

see better whaling ground? There's slick aplenty. My, how I

aised any s

ust like this when we caught three big bowheads from the Mary Foster.

his heart lay, and he glanced at the low-swinging sun which wa

full of seals. He asked me a thousand questions about them. Darn sealing, says I! Whaling's a man's game! Man

was in the big mate's blood. He watched him disappear into the galley-house, then f

examined his few possessions with wistful eyes-a bomb gun, brightly polished, standing in one corner of the cabin, a sextant and ancien

drowsed with the music of the grinding floes in his ears, then heard a racking shiver which

beard was thrust through the open porthole, and th

our boots and join me on the ice. I'll be ri

ut his form. He stepped out on the dark deck with firm stride, glancing intuit

ward and brought out the lacery of the after standing rigging

he reached a towering hummock. Behind this Cushner was crouc

ng ice, with now and then a breaker which shot a white plume starward. The broken fragments of the sou

of yellow light. A voice was raised, and the notes of a song drif

here be an

the Brown

ot, but the wo

st thieve

with a deep warning. "Who is standing on the poop? Who's tha

wn his cap and opened wide his splendid eyes. Cushner was right. There was a figure on the poop, and th

in. Whitehouse joined his

h' son of

es m' whi

m' whisk

d the Arctic air, and the figure on the quarter-deck straightened with a convulsive

d slowly aft. A yellow light shot upward as a companion was slowly opened, the

ere in the cabin, drinking; another Marr had stood upon the quarter-deck. It was the little captain-line for line. In one thing only did it di

s feet with an icy gl

d Cushner. "We'll fathom it if it t