Just then there came an ominous cracking sound, and suddenly the forward boat crashed through the ice, which gave way for rods in every direction. The rear boat went shooting down an inclined plane into the water. The ladies shrieked, the crew shouted, the boat turned over on its side, but was speedily righted.
Percy succeeded in springing into the boat before it reached the open sea, but the other two passengers clung to its side, their legs dangling in the icy water.
The forward crew threw out a long rope and a plank, and, getting out on the ice, pulled the boat along a few lengths. The rear boat was pushed along in its wake through the broken ice. As they proceeded farther from the shore, the ice became more uneven. Where it was strong, the crew propelled the boats by means of the ropes; but where it was shaky or broken, the oars and boards were brought into requisition. The old seamen found constant amusement in the terrified screams of Mrs. Butler, every time they crashed through the ice, while Dolores seemed to enjoy the excitement with an almost childish delight.
Upon a sort of sand-bar in one place, which marked the boundary between the fixed or land-ice, and the loose cakes floating in the Sound, immense blocks had been crowded into all sorts of fantastic shapes, forming an irregular rampart thirty or forty feet high.
Beyond this, the crew was able to keep the boat in the water most of the time, winding in and out among the islands of ice.
Once, they were caught in a narrow strip of water between two ice-floes.
Then the crew became excited, and hurriedly ran the boat up on the ice out of harm's way. A few minutes later, the edges of the ice-floes began to grind together and double up, impelled by the tremendous currents underneath.
Dolores, who had grown very pale, while they were in this perilous situation, shivered slightly, as she heard the grinding of the ice-floes, and suddenly swayed back unconscious.