The dogs were penned up, and made the air hideous with their barking and snarling. All the supplies were taken on board, and then the Ice King steamed away from Etah on her voyage into the great Unknown.
“It’s good-by now to everything, civilized and uncivilized,” said Barwell Dawson. “From now on we have got to trust to luck as to what comes.”
It was the explorer’s plan to push as far as the ice would let him into Smith’s Sound. Then, when the Ice King could sail no further, they would disembark and prepare for the coming winter—the terrible Long Night. Now it was summer, and daylight at all hours of the twenty-four.
A good deal of floating ice was encountered within six hours after leaving Etah, and after that the thumping and grinding on the sides was kept up night and day. Although the vessel had full steam up, the engines were run slowly, as too hard a crash might result disastrously. Occasionally they could make out the shore line, but usually low icebergs shut the land from sight.
“I don’t think we can go much further,” remarked Andy, on the third day out from Etah. “The ice seems to be closing in all around us.”
Nevertheless, the next day they struck a wide “lead,” and ran through this for miles. But then the ice became thicker than ever, and Captain Williamson shook his head gravely.
“Not much further, Mr. Dawson,” he said. “I think we had best make for the shore yonder,” and he pointed with his gloved hand.
“As you think best, Captain,” was the explorer’s reply. “We have now come about as far as I thought we could go.”
The boys watched the working of the vessel until late that night. When they awoke in the morning, they found that the engines had stopped. They dressed and ran on deck.
“Well, I never!” cried Andy. “We are high and dry now, and no mistake!”