"I'll be the lad to go and ask," declared Sandy boldly. "If we can kill a seal it'll be a chance to baptize old 'Frozen Face' in the richt style. I'll point oot to Mr. Dacre that all the hurlyburly the other day came from shampooing him with kerosene instead of seal oil."
"I hope he puts the seal of approval on your plan," declared Jack.
"Don't repeat that offense, or in case we do get leave to go, you'll be left behind," said Tom.
"I'll seal you later," cried Sandy, dashing off before a justly merited punishment could be visited upon him.
He was back in a few minutes.
"It's a' richt, fellows!" he exclaimed. "We're to take the small boat and not delay longer than we have to. They won't give us more than half an hour."
"Then we'll have to hustle. We'll be up to that floe before long," cried Jack.
The boys darted to their cabins to get ready for the hunt. Their faces glowed with pleasure at this unexpected break in the monotony of the voyage. When they returned on deck, they found Mr. Dacre awaiting them and the boat lowered alongside with the accommodation ladder dangling above it.
"Boys," he exclaimed with some excitement, "we've been looking at that floe through the glasses. They're not seals that have taken passage on it, but walruses, a herd of them."