The Eskimo nodded his head in approval of this. “Too much cold,” he said. “Too much no see. Wait in igloo long time, maybe five, six sleeps. Then sun come.”
“If I only had a compass, so that we could get the general direction, I’d chance it,” said Joe; “but there is no telling how the wind may have changed, and we might be traveling right out to sea. It’s better to wait where we are safe till we can be sure. They’ll be anxious on the ship, but what can we do? No, the Eskimo is right. We’ve got to stay here till we can see the sun, at least.”
The bite of the wind warned them to get within their shelter again, and they did so. The Eskimo, however, continued to work on the snow entrance to their cave beneath the drift, and soon had it made into a veritable tunnel, through which they could crawl, but which was long enough to keep out the worst of the cold. Then he enlarged their igloo by pushing out the sail, compacting the snow behind it, till they had quite a little room in which to turn round, though they could barely sit upright there. He almost blocked the far end of his entrance tunnel with snow, and closed the nearer end with the boat’s thwarts. Thus the wind and cold were shut out, and they were surprisingly comfortable, considering that they had no fire. Their eyes became accustomed to the semi-darkness, and they felt themselves quite at home. It was a long day, though they whiled away the time talking with the Eskimo, who was quite recovered from his nine days of starvation.
At nightfall there was no change in the weather, and they resigned themselves to a long siege. Neither was there any change the next day, nor the next. Occasionally they went out and plunged through the snow about their igloo for exercise, but the Eskimo warned them not to go but a few steps away from it, for to be lost in the cold and black frost-fog was to meet certain death from exposure. Now and then it snowed again, but they did not care for this, as it drifted higher about their shelter and made it warmer. On the third day a serious matter was forced upon their attention. At breakfast, that morning, Joe divided the last of the meat and hard-tack. Only a little tea stood between them and starvation.
The night of the fourth day they were much disturbed by crushing and grinding noises, and got little sleep. Sometimes the ice beneath them seemed to jar as if hit by a tremendous blow. The Eskimo hailed this with delight.
“Nagouruk,” he said. “Ice talk. Bimeby get seal.”
At the first light he was out, taking his spear with him, but he returned at nightfall, thoroughly chilled and empty-handed. Matters looked dubious. They drank tea and licked the inside of the can that had held the condensed milk. It was a poor substitute for a meal. They learned that the Eskimo had hunted long for an open lead, and had risked his life by venturing far from their shelter, but had found only a small crack, which he had watched all day without success. The next morning, however, Joe, who was first out, gave a great shout of delight. The gale had abated, and there was a faint glow through the black fog which showed the direction of the sun. He wished to start southeast at once, for that must be the direction in which they should go, but the Eskimo wished to wait.
“Get seal,” he said. “Much eat. Bimeby go;” and though Joe chafed at the delay, the weakness of hunger made him think it wise to defer to the man of the ice. The Eskimo went off with his spear, found an opening within sight of the igloo, and stood there motionless for literal hours, his spear poised, himself a statue frozen upon the frozen scene. Suddenly the poised spear shot downward, and with a shout of triumph he hauled a seal out upon the ice, tossed him upon his shoulder, and came running to the igloo with him.
It took him but a moment to strip off the already freezing hide, and slice off big strips of blubber and meat from the carcass. Passing these to the boys he proceeded to eat others immediately. Joe and Harry were hungry enough to follow his example, but they nevertheless lighted the oil stove and partly broiled their steaks before eating. It must be confessed, however, that they were cooked rare. When they had satisfied their hunger the Eskimo carefully rolled up the remainder of the meat and blubber in the hide, and it soon froze solid, making a compact bundle.
The cold abated with the wind, and as the sun struggled through more and more, they made an immediate start. They dug the dingey out of the snow shelter that had saved their lives, packed their belongings carefully in it, and, with the Eskimo tugging at the painter, and Joe and Harry lifting and sliding it over the snow and rough ice, headed southeast as nearly as they could tell by the sun.