The wind carried his words, and Józef evidently heard them, for he began to twist round until he gained a foothold in the snow. Stefan instantly struck the ice-spear into the ice with his full strength, so that the sledge shook.
"Crawl! I can't leave the dogs!" he called to Józef.
The latter answered something and tried to get up, but the wind blew him over. In the end he managed to turn and face it.
"Crawl—crawl!" His companion's voice was borne to him in a whisper in the blasts of the snowstorm.
"Leave me—never mind me—I can't——" he answered, but almost before they had left his lips the gale blew his words in the opposite direction.
Finally, by a great effort, he began to crawl. All this took some time, and meanwhile a rumbling sound deeper than the storm was added to the roar of the wind. This came from the pack ice in the direction of the clouds hanging over the "open sea." Stefan heard it, but did not realize what it was until the ice was struck with a crash like thunder.
"The sea!" he cried.
Józef was now near the sledge.
"Make haste!" he exclaimed, helping him into the sledge and strapping him to it. "Do you hear? That's the sea! The storm is breaking up the ice behind us."
They plodded on once more. Stefan walked nearly all the time, pushing the sledge, but tied to it by the waist for safety. He forgot that he was cold or that his limbs might become frostbitten. The dogs exerted all their strength, scenting the danger. Every minute the roar came nearer; it sounded like a cannonade above the noise of the wind. Driven by despair, they fled ever faster. Yet at last the ice rocked under them, and in imagination they saw the water bubbling under their feet. It was close behind them; but the ice on which they were driving was still dry.