Thanks to his cares, all danger was gone in an hour; but it was no easy task, and constant friction was necessary to recall the circulation into the old sailor's fingers. The doctor urged him to keep his hands away from the stove, the heat of which might produce serious results.
That morning they had to go without breakfast; of the pemmican and the salt meat nothing was left. There was not a crumb of biscuit, and only half a pound of coffee. They had to content themselves with drinking this hot, and then they set out.
"There's nothing more!" said Bell to Johnson, in a despairing accent.
"Let us trust in God," said the old sailor; "he is able to preserve us!"
"This Captain Hatteras!" continued Bell; "he was able to return from his first expeditions, but he'll never get back from this one, and we shall never see home again!"
"Courage, Bell! I confess that the captain is almost foolhardy, but there is with him a very ingenious man."
"Dr. Clawbonny?" said Bell.
"Yes," answered Johnson.
"What can he do in such circumstances?" retorted Bell, shrugging his shoulders. "Can he change these pieces of ice into pieces of meat? Is he a god, who can work by miracles?"
"Who can say?" the boatswain answered his companion's doubts; "I trust in him."