Adrift on an Ice-Pan | Page 6

direction, and then threw a piece of ice toward the
desired goal. Without a moment's hesitation he made a dash for it, and
to my great joy got there safely, the tough scale of sea ice carrying his
weight bravely. At once I shouted to him to "lie down," and this, too,
he immediately did, looking like a little black fuzz ball on the white
setting. My leaders could now see him seated there on the new piece of
floe, and when once more I threw them off they understood what I
wanted, and fought their way to where they saw the spaniel, carrying
with them the line that gave me the one chance for my life. The other
dogs followed them, and after painful struggling, all got out again
except one. Taking all the run that I could get on my little pan, I made a
dive, slithering with the impetus along the surface till once more I sank
through. After a long fight, however, I was able to haul myself by the
long traces on to this new pan, having taken care beforehand to tie the
harnesses to which I was holding under the dogs' bellies, so that they
could not slip them off. But alas! the pan I was now on was not large
enough to bear us and was already beginning to sink, so this process
had to be repeated immediately.
I now realized that, though we had been working toward the shore, we
had been losing ground all the time, for the off-shore wind had already
driven us a hundred yards farther out. But the widening gap kept full of
the pounded ice, through which no man could possibly go.

I had decided I would rather stake my chances on a long swim even
than perish by inches on the floe, as there was no likelihood whatever
of being seen and rescued. But, keenly though I watched, not a streak
even of clear water appeared, the interminable sish rising from below
and filling every gap as it appeared. We were now resting on a piece of
ice about ten by twelve feet, which, as I found when I came to examine
it, was not ice at all, but simply snow-covered slob frozen into a mass,
and I feared it would very soon break up in the general turmoil of the
heavy sea, which was increasing as the ice drove off shore before the
wind.
At first we drifted in the direction of a rocky point on which a heavy
surf was breaking. Here I thought once again to swim ashore. But
suddenly we struck a rock. A large piece broke off the already small
pan, and what was left swung round in the backwash, and started right
out to sea.
There was nothing for it now but to hope for a rescue. Alas! there was
little possibility of being seen. As I have already mentioned, no one
lives around this big bay. My only hope was that the other komatik,
knowing I was alone and had failed to keep my tryst, would perhaps
come back to look for me. This, however, as it proved, they did not do.
The westerly wind was rising all the time, our coldest wind at this time
of the year, coming as it does over the Gulf ice. It was tantalizing, as I
stood with next to nothing on, the wind going through me and every
stitch soaked in ice-water, to see my well-stocked komatik some fifty
yards away. It was still above water, with food, hot tea in a thermos
bottle, dry clothing, matches, wood, and everything on it for making a
fire to attract attention.
It is easy to see a dark object on the ice in the daytime, for the gorgeous
whiteness shows off the least thing. But the tops of bushes and large
pieces of kelp have often deceived those looking out. Moreover, within
our memory no man has been thus adrift on the bay ice. The chances
were about one in a thousand that I should be seen at all, and if I were
seen, I should probably be mistaken for some piece of refuse.

To keep from freezing, I cut off my long moccasins down to the feet,
strung out some line, split the legs, and made a kind of jacket, which
protected my back from the wind down as far as the waist. I have this
jacket still, and my friends assure me it would make a good Sunday
garment.
I had not drifted more than half a mile before I saw my poor komatik
disappear through the ice, which was every minute loosening up into
the small pans that it consisted of, and it seemed like a friend gone and
one more tie with