All remained closely domiciled in the cabin. Frank had the rotascope and wings folded up so that the wind could not damage them.
And here in the gloom of the Arctic night the voyagers waited for the storm to cease.
Barney and Pomp were in their usual cheerful mood, and did much to keep up the spirits of the party with fiddle and banjo.
Irish melodies and negro songs were blended, and even Frank sang a sentimental song, for he was possessed of a beautiful tenor voice.
The storm raged for a long time. Indeed, it seemed as if the airship must be finally buried in the fearful white drift.
But at length the temperature began to rise, and Barney suggested a little trip outside.
“Shure, I haven’t used me snowshoes yet,” he declared. “And here is a most illegant opportunity.”
All agreed with the lively Celt.
The snowshoes were brought out and all donned them. Then the thickest of furs were worn.
For the cold was most bitter, and unless warmly clad human life could be supported but a very short time.