"This is certainly a bad situation," Phineas Roebach remarked. "But, as the professor says, it isn't the worst that might happen."
"What worse could happen?" demanded Mark.
"Hold on! Don't you step too near the edge of this shelf," warned the oil man. "If you step off and fall clear to the bottom of this crevasse you'll probably find that a good deal worse than our present position. B-r-r! Isn't it cold?"
Two hundred feet below the surface of the ice river was indeed a cold spot. Washington produced all the warm clothing there was aboard the flying machine and all hands were glad to bundle up. Then the professor suggested that the black man prepare some hot drink and a ration of their food, while all gathered in the cabin for a discussion as to their future course. "Our perilous situation is apparent," said Professor Henderson, quietly. "But there is always more than one way out of a serious predicament—sometimes there are a dozen ways."
"I'd like to hear of a dozen ways of getting out of this hole," murmured
Mark Sampson.
"Mr. Roebach," said the professor, ignoring the youth, "what do you say? What is your advice?"
"The sun will be up in an hour, or thereabout. It's pretty dim down here. Let us wait and see what daylight shows us," was the oil man's reply.
"The moon—the other moon—is just appearing," Jack said. "We'll have light enough in a few minutes."
"Two moons! what do you think of that?" cried Mark.
"Are you sure, Jack?" queried the professor, eagerly.