“Listen quietly. We have no time to lose,” cried Takyak, when he had become a little calmer. “That captain, that Garrish, has ears in the back of his head—yes, and in the front too, as well as at the sides. Hark! What was that?”
There was intense silence in the cabin while they listened, holding their breath. No sound came, and Bobby finally tiptoed over to the door, opening it gently.
The corridor was empty. The sick man was overwrought, had imagined he heard something.
Bobby hurried back to Chief Takyak, who motioned to him impatiently. His face was of a peculiar ashen hue and when he spoke his breath came in labored gasps.
“To-morrow,” he whispered, drawing the lad close to him, “at eleven o’clock, if all goes well, we shall be close to Baffin Land.” Takyak began to talk in gasps. “Get away—from boat—some way.” He paused and Bobby waited impatiently, eagerly, his eyes on the ghastly grayish face of the Eskimo.
The man seemed to struggle a moment with the pain, then, regaining a little strength, went on feverishly.
“Get provisions, steal longboat some way, turn bow of boat nor-east, right angles—ship—compass—have compass somewhere.”
He strove to lift himself, and Bobby, with an arm beneath the gaunt shoulders, helped him while he fumbled beneath his pillow.
He brought it forth triumphantly at last, an old compass, battered as to case, but in good working order.
“No lose it,” he cautioned, as Bobby slipped the precious instrument into his pocket.