DEATH TAKES A HAND
It is safe to say that Bobby and his chums did not get very much sleep that night. The thought that they had a real chance of escape from the ship where they had been held prisoners meant more to them just then than the possibility of finding Takyak’s treasure trove.
As for Bobby, he hardly closed his eyes at all.
He wondered if they had not been foolish to provision the longboat that night. It would be just their luck to have the provisions discovered the next day, and then their chance would be gone.
They would be robbed of what little liberty they had enjoyed so far, and, once more prisoners, would have no hope of escape.
And even if they were successful in getting away from the ship, what then?
Tossing in his hammock, Bobby could hear the blocks of ice gritting against the sides of the vessel, hungrily, like some beast of prey waiting for its victim.
Even though, as Takyak had said, they would be near enough to shore on the following night to gain it in a few hours, what were their chances of getting through that ice-blocked water?
Even that day they had seen one or two large icebergs looming against the skyline.
Of course, the danger from these monsters of the sea would be very much less in the daytime than at night. For, in the darkness, how could they tell of the approach of one of these until it was almost upon them, too late, then, for them to get out of the way?