“Not a soul.”
“Where was ve ovver man?”
“He had been washed out of the boat—he—it was hard to say where the other man was.”
“Didn’t his fwiend look for him?”
“Not just then. The first thing the friend did was to tear up his shirt.”
“Gwacious! Was he as mad as vat?”
“No, he wasn’t mad, but he wanted some strips to tie round a wound he’d got.”
“Oh! And when he’d done vat?”
“Then he went up on the tundra.”
“What’s ve—”