There was no need to sound the warning, for all understood the peril only too well. They increased their speed, and slid the remaining few feet. Then, just behind them, they saw the ice buckle and break, allowing a stream of icy water to run over it.
“Safe, and thank Heaven for it!” murmured Barwell Dawson, when he could catch his breath.
“Don’t ask me to take another such run,” panted Professor Jeffer. “I thought we’d surely be drowned!”
As soon as they had recovered somewhat from the dash, they walked on to where the dogs had stopped. In letting them go, Mr. Dawson had known that they were in no physical condition to run out of sight. When the travelers came up, they found the canines stretched out resting. The harness was in a snarl, and it took them the best part of a quarter of an hour to get the team straightened out again.
“Did you notice that the ice looks purple?” remarked Andy, as they went on once again.
“I did,” answered Barwell Dawson. “It is as peculiar as it is beautiful.”
He had noticed the purple ice several days before, and also several mirages in the sky,—mirages that looked like hills and mountains, but which he knew were only optical delusions. Coming northward, the party had also had a splendid view of the aurora borealis, or Northern Lights, that mysterious glow thought to be electrical or magnetic. Once Andy had said that he could hear the lights, and that they sounded like the low hissing of steam.
It grew colder that night, and it was all the explorers could do to keep from freezing. They had a small quantity of tea left—a quarter of a pound—and after melting some snow over their alcohol stove, drank the beverage boiling hot. Then they made themselves a hot stew of pemmican and ground-up peas. Each of the dogs received a chunk of frozen walrus meat, something they gnawed on savagely, so great was their hunger.
The next day the sun was clouded, so that it was impossible for the professor to take any observations. But they knew they had not yet reached their goal, and so they pushed on, over ice that was hummocky, but not nearly as bad as it had been.
“Hello!” cried Andy, about the middle of the afternoon. “What’s that yonder?”