“Oh, then, I’ll try and give Him my heart,” exclaimed Archy. “I’ll trust to Him.”
“Yes, do that, Archy; but give him your heart now—trust to Him now,” said Andrew, earnestly. “We will pray, lad, that the Holy Spirit will help you, for He alone can carry out the work in your heart;” and the pious old man, kneeling down on the ice, lifted up his voice in prayer; and surely that prayer was not uttered in vain. Still, although the rest of the party made no response to his exhortations, he persevered; and from the loud crashing roar of the ice, as the broken fragments were dashed together, it seemed too likely that the day of grace for all would ere long be past. Hour after hour went by, and yet the portion of the floe on which they had taken refuge kept together. The storm continued to rage, and the snow still fell heavily. Piece after piece of the boat had been cut away its place being supplied with a wall and roof of snow, which the seamen gradually built up. They were beginning to feel the pangs of hunger, and they could scarcely get sufficient warmth from the small fire they were able to maintain to keep themselves from being frozen. It was near mid-summer. Had it been the winter they could not thus have existed many hours. Every now and then one of the party ran to the summit of the hillock in the hopes of seeing the ship. Still the falling snow shut out all but the nearest objects from view, and here and there alone a tall iceberg could be seen rising dimly amid the foaming seas. “No hope, no hope,” was the mournful cry of one after the other, as they returned to the hut.
“Don’t say there’s no hope,” observed old Andrew. “God can send us help, though we can’t help ourselves. Oh, lads, I again say, and it may be for the last time, put your trust in Him. I don’t tell you that He will send us relief. It may be His will that our bodies should perish on the spot where we are sitting; but I do tell you, that He offers to rescue your souls, and will certainly, if you put your trust in Him, not allow them to perish.”
Archy sat close to old Andrew, listening attentively to what he said, he had now learned to distinguish between his real and false friend. How earnestly he wished that he had not been led astray by the evil counsel of the latter. The rest of the party sat silent, their countenances exhibiting the despair which had taken possession of their hearts. Their fuel was well nigh exhausted, and suffering from hunger they knew that they could not hold out long against the cold. Andrew proposed that they should let the fire out for a time, and warm themselves by exercise.
“We will then light it again, and it will enable us to lie down and rest without fear of being frozen,” he observed.
To this wise advice the men would not agree.
“If die we must, we will keep warm while we can,” growled out Max.
“Then, Archy, you and I will try and keep our blood flowing by using our limbs,” said Andrew. “See, the snow has ceased falling, and there’s less wind than there was.”
This was said after they had spent many hours on the ice. How many they could scarcely tell, for no sun appeared to mark the progress of the day.
Andrew, taking his young companion’s hand, rose, and together they went to the top of the hummock, and gazed around for a minute, though they could now see much further than before. No sail appeared to cheer their sight. They quickly descended, and Andrew, with the activity of a young man, ran backwards and forwards under the lee of the hummock. Archy felt the benefit of the exercise; but though his hunger had increased, his blood circulating freely, made him feel better able to endure the cold than before.