Frank saw that he could not move, and walking over to the Irishman, he knelt down and examined his shoes.
He quickly detected the cause of Barney’s plight.
“Did you soak the soles of your fur boots in hot water before you came out in this freezing temperature?” he asked.
“Why, no, sor,” replied Barney, in astonishment.
“Well, they’ve been treated that way, and are frozen fast to the deck.”
“Arrah, it wuz koind ther naygur wuz ter help me on wid ‘em,” said Barney. “Av coorse he didn’t do it, but if yez will onstharp thim fer me, I’ll folly that coon an’ bate ther flure wid his liver.”
“Up to his jokes again,” sighed Frank, as he released the Irishman. “But let it pass, Barney, for there’s the strait now, and we’ll have to spend our time looking for the whaler instead of playing practical jokes.”
“Begorra, ye’ve saved ther loife av ther coon,” said Barney, as he left his fur soles stuck fast to the deck and hastened inside after Frank out of the cold.
The doctor had turned the ice ship to the leeward.
She sped along inland over the strait, and in a couple of hours reached the Norwegian fishing station.