All day a stiff wind had been blowing from the southwest and as the
day grew old it increased in velocity. The komatik was taking an
almost easterly course and therefore the wind did not seriously hamper
their progress, though it was bitter cold and searching and made
travelling extremely uncomfortable.
Less than half-way across the bay, which was some twelve miles wide, a
crack in the ice was passed over. Presently cracks became numerous,
and glancing behind him Bob noticed a wide black space along the shore
at the point where they had taken to the ice, and could see in the
distance farther to the northwest, as it reflected the light, a white
streak of foam where the angry sea was assailing the ice barrier. He
realized at once that the wind and sea were smashing the ice.
They were far from land and in grave peril. The Eskimos urged the dogs
to renewed efforts, and the poor brutes themselves, seeming to realize
the danger, pulled desperately at the traces.
After a time the ice beneath them began to undulate, moving up and
down in waves and giving an uncertain footing. Between them and the
cove they were heading for, but a little outside of their course, was
a bare, rocky island and the Eskimos suddenly turned the dogs towards
it.
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