“Nary a hurt,” replied Dick’s companion. “So it’s you, young man, is it? Good! Say! although it is so tarnation cold down here, I guess we’re better off than the people up there on deck. For now we’ll have a chance to get clear of the ship before she sinks, if we hustle a bit. See that star over there? I guess we’d better make a bee line for it and swim for all we’re worth; then, if we’re lucky we may escape being dragged down in the vortex; and perhaps we may find a boat to hang on to until something comes along and picks us up.”
Dick agreeing, the pair struck out strongly in the direction of the star. But, as they swam, their ears were assailed by a veritable pandemonium of sound aboard the sinking steamer—shouts, yells, screams, and a regular fusillade of pistol shots, bearing eloquent evidence of the terrible scenes that were enacting aboard her.
As the two swimmers proceeded the mingled sounds aboard the Everest seemed to swell rather than diminish, to such an extent indeed that presently the American turned to Dick and gasped, through chattering teeth—
“S–s–say! s–s–seems to m–me that there’s a r–reg-ular pitched b–a–attle going on aboard there—ugh! G–g–guess w–we’re b–b–better off here th–th–than there—eh?”
“R–r–rather!” stammered Dick back, but he was suffering so intensely from the icy nip of the water that he felt no disposition to talk, and simply pushed ahead for all he was worth, hoping that by dint of violent exertion he might be able to conquer the numbing sensation that was gradually clogging his movements.
For another ten minutes the pair pressed forward side by side. Then suddenly Dick’s companion ceased his exertions, and, with a groan, turned over on his back. He managed to stammer a question whether there were any boats at hand; and upon Dick replying in the negative the American gasped:
“Then I’m d–d–done. C–cramp all over. C–can’t s–swim ’nother s–stroke. G–good-bye!”
“Good-bye be hanged!” shouted Dick, stirred to new life by his companion’s extremity. “Just y–you lie as y–you are—I’ll l–l–look after you.”
And flinging himself on his back, Cavendish gripped the other man firmly by the collar, and, kicking out vigorously, towed him along. Some five minutes later the youngster became conscious of a sudden and very decided fall in the temperature of the water, and looking about in search of the cause, found himself within a few yards of a large cake of field ice. There, at all events, was a refuge of a sort—something that would serve the purpose of a raft, and with a few vigorous strokes he was alongside it. It was a great slab of field ice, its flat upper surface not more than six inches above water; and after a tremendous struggle Dick not only got upon the slab himself but also contrived to drag his companion up also. Their combined weight seemed to have very little effect upon the stability of the mass, merely depressing the adjacent edge perhaps a couple of inches; and, this fact ascertained, Dick lost no time, but set to work upon the body of the insensible American, pounding, rubbing, and rolling it with such vigour that not only did he at length feel the chill departing from his own limbs but also felt his companion stir and heard him groan.
“Feel better?” demanded Dick. Then, without waiting for a reply, he added: “If you can only manage to get to your feet and walk about a bit, we’ll soon restore our circulation. Let me give you a lift.”