“If there was any darkness to do it in, we might get away,” Sandy retorted, “but in this never-ending daylight, I don’t see how we can do it.”
“Listen—I’ve a plan,” Dick drew closer to his chum, and began in a whisper. “When we came up I could see that this igloo was built on a long snowdrift that stretches clear to a ravine on the right. We still have our knives and with these we can dig a tunnel under the snow.”
“But suppose they come in while we’re working?”
“I thought of that. We’ll work one at a time, while one keeps watch at the entrance of the igloo. At first we can jump up out of the tunnel, which we’ll start in the floor, and lie down over it with our bedding. If they come clear inside they’ll think we’re sleeping.”
“What about the loose snow?” Sandy asked.
“That we can scatter over the floor and pack it down with our boots. The hardest job will be coming out of the drift at the right place. What we must do is tunnel under the igloo and through the drift to the side hidden from the camp.”
Sandy became enthusiastic over Dick’s daring scheme and without delay they commenced the difficult task. Dick started the digging while Sandy watched. The snow was hard, but by keeping at it he soon was far enough down so that he could change the direction of his digging toward the outside of the snowdrift, which was to furnish the cover for their escape.
They had changed places twice and Sandy was again on watch when the crunch of footfalls sounded approaching the igloo.
“Quick. Someone’s coming!” Sandy whispered down the tunnel.
Dick was only a few seconds backing out of the hole and dropping prone over it, the bedding drawn about him. Sandy also feigned sleep nearby and with bated breath they awaited whoever was coming.