“Bless me if I know,” responded Chet. “Let us go on deck and see.”
They donned their fur coats and mitts, and ran out on the deck just as the grinding increased. They found Captain Williamson and Barwell Dawson engaged in earnest conversation.
“It’s the ice pack,” explained the explorer. “It is closing in on us.”
“Closing in!” cried Andy. “Why, it’s as close in now as it can get!”
“Not quite,” was the grim reply.
“Why, do you mean——” Andy stopped short.
“Isn’t the Ice King strong enough to stand the pressure?” questioned Chet.
“The steamer is braced to stand a great deal. But this ice has an enormous power,” replied Captain Williamson. “If it comes against us too strongly, it may crush the ship like an eggshell.”
At first the commander could think of nothing to do to relieve the vessel, but presently it was suggested that the ice be chopped away from the bow and one side in a slanting direction. All hands, including the boys, went at the work, with picks, and crowbars, and spades.
It was a fight against nature and the elements, and never did men and boys work harder. As they labored, the ice of the vast pack continued to move closer to the ship, causing the Ice King to groan and crack in every timber.