"Why," he told himself in glee, "it floated across our path when we needed a landing-place the worst kind, as if we'd ordered it to be held in waiting. It might be the next time there'll be a convenient island handy, though I hope there'll come no next time."
He even found a way to climb on to the berg itself, though in most places the field ice was chopped into small bits by some action on the part of the vast bulk, perhaps during a high wind and a heavy sea.
"All I want to be able to say is that I've been on a regular iceberg," Jack announced, after he had once more returned to his mates; "but it's frigid, let me tell you. Why, there's enough ice in that mountain to freeze all the cream made around New York in a whole season, and then some."
He found that Tom was still busily engaged, with Beverly bending down in frequent consultation.
"Say, is it going to be anything serious, fellows? Worse than we at first thought?"
Beverly looked up and gave him a reassuring smile. He was now holding the little hand-torch and directing its ray so that Tom could get the full benefit.
"No reason to believe so, Jack," he remarked quietly. "Tom's still of the opinion that we ought to have it all fixed up for keeps before an hour goes by, if things keep on working as we expect."
"Fine! You make me happy when you say that, Colin!" Jack returned. "If only the berg doesn't roll over before we get out of this, I'll consider that we have much to be thankful for," he added slowly.
"Could you feel any motion when you stood on that lower shelf of the berg?" asked Beverly, showing that he had watched what Jack was doing.
"I should say I could," the other assured him. "It nearly made me sea-sick. I'd hate to have to stay here very much longer. If you watch a cloud passing you can see just how the peak dips, and swings back and forth. It's getting ready to tumble, and before long!"