After the object had been pointed out to the skipper, and he had looked at it long and carefully, he also expressed the opinion that it was a man, and ordered the schooner to be headed in that direction. Her progress was necessarily very slow, and the afternoon was well advanced before she reached a broad space of open water, beyond which rose the iceberg. It was now not more than half a mile from them; but it was surrounded by an apparently impassable barrier of floe ice. This, though in motion, was so densely packed along its outer edge that the vessel could not be forced into it. Again and again was the attempt made, but it only resulted in failure, and each successive shock threatened her with irreparable damage.
At length these efforts were abandoned, and the schooner began to cruise up and down along the barrier, seeking for some opening through which she might pass. The black object on the iceberg had remained in sight long enough for them to be certain that it was a man, but then it had disappeared. This disappearance greatly puzzled the Vixen’s crew. Some of them said he must have slipped off the ice into the water, and been drowned, or else he would certainly have remained in sight to make signals to them. Others thought perhaps the berg had swung round so as to hide him from them, and that he was unable to reach any point from which he could be seen. Among the latter were Breeze and Wolfe, who, as time wore on, became very impatient at the delay caused by the icy barrier.
“If we do not get to him soon,” said Breeze, “he will certainly freeze to death. Wolfe, don’t you think we could get our dory across the floe to that iceberg, if we should try?”
“You don’t mean to say that you’d be willing to try it for the sake of that fellow, do you?” exclaimed his companion in amazement. “Why, man, the chances would be ten to one, yes a hundred to one, against your ever getting back to the schooner again.”
“That may all be,” replied Breeze, “but if they were a thousand to one against it I’d rather take the one chance than to go off and leave that poor fellow to die there without even trying to save him. I believe it can be done, and I’m going to ask the skipper to let me go.”
“Well,” said Wolfe, “you are the softest and the pluckiest fellow I ever met. I don’t believe the skipper will hear of your going, but if he should you sha’n’t go alone.”
“I was sure you’d say that!” cried Breeze, “and I’m just as sure that we’ll succeed if we are only allowed to try my plan.”
The skipper hesitated some time before giving his consent to the scheme proposed by Breeze; but at length, finding that no further headway could be made by the schooner, he yielded reluctantly, and said they might make the attempt.
The rest of the crew tried to dissuade the boys from such a foolhardy undertaking, “especially,” as one of them said, “when the man doesn’t show up, and is probably gone long before this.” When they found them determined to go, however, they lent them every assistance in their power.
Before starting, both the boys drank a cup of hot coffee and ate a hasty luncheon. Into dory No. 6 they put a box of provisions, two pairs of blankets, a coil of rope, and a hatchet. Their water-keg was already full. The skipper promised to remain within sight of that iceberg until they returned, or until he knew what had become of them, and as they started the crew gave them a hearty cheer.