"How long do you suppose the ice will last? Even if we survive the collision, the heat generated will melt all ice, even up here."
Jim looked at me a little helplessly. "Don't forget that Labrador has water on three sides. If we go into the interior, I don't believe we'll escape the tidal waves they're predicting."
"Probably not," I rejoined cheerfully, "but the chances are a thousand to one we'll be snuffed out one way or another before the collision occurs, so what difference does it make?"
There was another message coming in and Jim turned to take it.
"Don't waste time doing that," I said. "Hear that wind rising now? Let's load up and start."
Doing that was quite simple. The hangar contained all the fuel we could carry. When we rolled the machine out I looked over the little village, rather conscience-stricken for a moment at leaving them in ignorance of what was coming. They couldn't reach the interior in time, I reflected, even if we did tell them, and they might as well remain happy as long as they could.
"Where are we headed for?" asked Jim.
I pointed to the Laurentian Mountains which extend along the Labrador coast. "Anywhere the other side of those."
Jim whirled the propeller and kicked the blocks from in front of the wheels. Then he climbed on board. We should have had skids on the undercarriage instead of wheels, to land on the snow, but we would have to do the best we could with what we had. The roar of the motor brought some of the inhabitants out-of-doors, and they watched us, wonderingly, as we took off into the night with that sinister orange moon gazing down at us.
The mountains are not high and we crossed them without difficulty. Presently the sky became gray in the east, and the moon, still in the sky, looked menacing. By the time the sun rose over the horizon we were almost cheerful.