Another hour they hurtled along, the air getting clearer, when suddenly Kiwi noticed away to their right a big ship plunging along. The red of her funnels and the white of her decks contrasted sharply with the dullness of the background. He pointed it out to the two men in front, and the Skipper bore over toward it.
“Send them a message, Jack, that we’ll keep going,” he said.
Jack started with his key, sent out his call letter, and waited for its acknowledgment. The answer came, very faint:
“Your signals weak. Can hardly hear you.”
He tried again. The answer was just audible.
“Can’t hear you. Are you sending?”
By this time they were very close to the ship and Jack shouted to the Skipper:
“Something wrong with the wireless. They can’t hear us.”
During the next few seconds it took to come abreast the ship, it flashed through the Skipper’s mind that at the time of their narrow escape from the iceberg it was quite possible that their wireless aerial, trailing underneath, had been torn off. He barked out to Jack:
“Try sending the message with your flashlight!”