Stevens was a lighter man than Alexander Bludd, but the passage was wider, and still widening, for the pack had gathered speed.
When Stevens was safely landed, he looked back.
A vast white shadow was all that he could see. Job North’s figure had been merged with the night.
“Donald, b’y,” he said, “you got to go back for your father, but I’m fair feared you’ll never—”
“Give me a push, Bill,” said Donald.
Stevens caught the end of the gaff and pushed the lad out.
“Good-by, Donald!” he said.
When the pan touched the other side, Job North stepped aboard without a word. He was a heavy man. With his great body on the ice-cake, the problem of return was enormously increased, as Donald had foreseen.
The pan was overweighted. Time and again it nearly shook itself free of its bad load and rose to the surface.