It was all over in a moment.
But Pomp was horrified at the position in which he had been left.
The Explorer was imbedded beneath a mighty cake of ice, which lay with crushing weight across the bow.
Only the wonderful strength of the steel shell had resisted the pressure and saved the boat from destruction.
The darky was nearly prostrated with the shock.
It seemed as if his doom had overtaken him.
Could he have turned pale, it no doubt would have been a vast relief to him at that moment.
But he quickly recovered.
He was in a bad scrape, and now the idea was to pull out of it.
“Fo’ de Lor’s sake!” muttered the dazed darky, “I done fink I ought to know bettah than dat. Ob co’se de ice would fall an’ it am jes’ a libin’ wondah dat dis chile amn’t buried alibe!”