“Oh! what can I do? How can I lead you?” he exclaimed.
“Trust in God and go straight on, lad. Here, take this line and we will hold on to it,” he added uncoiling a short length of rope which he carried at his side, and he put the end into Archy’s hands. He and Foubister and Saunders then took hold of it, following each other in line.
“Now move on, Archy,” said Andrew, “and keep a bright look out ahead, as well as on the right hand and on the left. If you see anything like smoke or little round hillocks near the shore, we may be certain that natives are there, or may be you will catch sight of the masts of a ship in the horizon, no fear of her getting away from us, for she will be fast frozen in.”
Thus cheered by the confiding faith of old Andrew and his dauntless courage, the party proceeded onwards over the ice-field, Archy’s eyes alone, protected by his mask, escaping the snow-blindness. Every now and then, with anxious voices, one or the other would cry out, “Do you see anything ahead, Archy, any sign of Esquimauxs on the shore,—any vessel in the distance?”
“No, I only see tall ice-cliffs on the left, and icebergs rising up here and there out of the frozen sea,” he answered. Several times on hearing this Saunders declared it was useless to go on, and even Foubister once proposed building a snow-hut as well as their blindness would allow them, and then lying down within it to die.
“What! and let the poor lad who has still got his eyesight perish with us?” exclaimed Andrew. “Shame on you, mate. I did not think to hear such words come from your lips. No, no, while we have life its our duty to go on, and if its God’s will that we should die, let us die doing our duty. If He pleases He can send us help and restore our eyesight, and He has shown us pretty clearly that we must lean on Him and Him alone.”
Thus rebuked, the honest carpenter did not allow another repining word to escape him.
There was but little wind, and the air felt warm and pleasant. Reaching a small iceberg they all sat down, placed by Archy on a ledge under its shelter to rest. He unpacked their wallets, and helped them to their food. By Andrew’s direction, also with the carpenter’s axe, he chopped off a thin layer of ice from the berg. From this, when held up in the direct rays of the sun, water dropped into their saucepan sufficiently fast to quench the thirst from which they had before been suffering. They were not aware that they might greatly have relieved the pain in their eyes by bathing them with the cold water. Revived by their meal they again proceeded as before, yet what could they expect at the end of their day’s journey? Could they hope to live through the night in an ill-built snow-hut without fire, might it not too probably become their tomb? Mile after mile was passed over, and still came the same answer from Archy to their constant inquiries. Night was approaching,—Andrew urged them to push on rather than stop, as long as they had strength to move.
“If you wish, I will go on,” said Archy, “or, I think, with your help I could build a snow-hut and we could keep warm enough inside it without a fire, I hope.”
“No, no, on, on,” said Andrew. “We will stop in time to build a hut before dark.” So on again they went.