Thus encouraged, Wilson and Johnson, armed with an axe and shovel, threw open the hatch, which, formerly in a horizontal position, was now almost perpendicular.
Plying their tools vigorously, and heaping the displaced snow in one corner of the cabin, they commenced the tunnel to the open air, working in a diagonal direction in order to make communication with the cabin easier.
Every quarter of an hour the diggers were relieved, taking turns with the two Russians. At length daylight was seen to be filtering through the snow. The tunnel was nearing completion, steps being cut at regular intervals.
"We're through," shouted Wilson triumphantly; then he added: "And it ain't half snowing."
"Up with you!" exclaimed O'Donovan. "Every man take a shovel. We'll haul up some of that canvas. It may serve as a shelter until we build the hut."
Into the blinding snow the seven workers made their way. After strenuous efforts, a square of canvas was set up to prevent the snow blocking the newly-made tunnel, then all hands set to work to build a hut.
It was a toilsome task. Encumbered by their fur clothing and mittens, their faces cut with the frozen flakes, the seven manfully stuck to their work.
At the end of two hours a shelter measuring roughly fifteen feet by seven was erected and covered in by means of planks removed from the cabin. These were quickly covered with snow, which speedily froze into a solid block, while the drifts which accumulated on the weather side served still further to render the shelter proof against the strongest gales.
Yet there was no respite for the weary toilers. Furs were brought from the cabin and laid upon the floor of the hut. One by one the injured men were carried up the slanting tunnel and tenderly placed in the hut.
This done, the Russians hauled up their sleigh, which, until the men were ready to set out, was to serve as a door.