The Argosy, Christmas 1912 — page 17: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

LOOSING THE TEMPEST. 3 as cold as water can. be without freezing solid, and, as he had nothing to do with the management of the motor, he sat, as I have said, shivering even in his furs, while I, working with all my energy, kept moderately warm. Perhaps the things I said to that motor brought from some unknown regions a little of the heat I felt. We had been out three days. Our sleeping accommodations were good, our blankets warm, and we still had plenty of food. It was canned stuff, except for the fish we caught; but it sufficed. The Northbird had been fitted to be heated from the motor, which also ran a little electric-heating apparatus in the cabin. As the motor had broken down, there was no heat. It was little warmer in the cabin than in the cockpit. And this was where Ordway sat, while I hammered and tinkered and swore. ‘“D-D-ag-well,” chattered my .joy- ous companion, “ tell the j-j-anitor to t-turn on st-st-eam.”’ “It’s all right, Ord,” I said. fix it.” “ve heard j-j-anitors s-say th-that before.” Working over a refractory motor for two days has a tendency to exhaust one’s patience, and I finally gave up and started in to prepare our dinner. Our galley-stove was still in working order, and we used a kind of oil made for cold regions we had purchased in Christiana. But this, while it boiled coffee, or water, threw out little heat. There was no oven to the stove, or we might have made ourselves more comfoft- able. There was still enough in the larder to furnish a good meal. We had caught a few fish, and with fried pota- toes and a can of corn, that froze al- most as soon as opened, thawed ovér the fire, and had to be eaten quickly before it froze again, we managed to make a decent meal, supplemented by a hot cup of coffee to put something like life in our blood. “py After the coffee we smoked, having a good stock of cigars on board. Ordway thawed out, and we played several games of cards, all the time drifting — somewhere. Whether we might sight the coast of Iceland, Jan Mayen’s Island, or even Spitzbergen, we could not tell. Had the Northbird been fitted with a military mast, we might have rigged up a sail with a blanket or two, and steered a course. But the only stick on the boat was a miserable toothpick to hold an anchor-light, and a pillow- case thrown to the breeze would have carried it away. Fortunately the sea was calm, and we were in no danger at all, unless we struck something. The period was during the long northern day, and it made little differ- ence what time we chose to sleep. Our greatest danger, which now be- gan to cause me some fear, was the lack of water. Sea-water, even when cold, is not drinkable, and our supply of fresh was rapidly becoming ex- hausted. | Naturally, in such a latitude, our thirst was not excessive. But it re- quires water to make coffee, and we could scarcely do without that—or, at least, we thought so. When the usual hour for turning in arrived, the sea was calm, the glint of the aurora borealis shimmered on an iceberg some distance away, and fhe Northbird floated lazily, her very in- ertness almost driving us mad_ be- cause it seemed so reasonable that we might compel the thing to do our bid- ding and carry us where we willed. But we knew this to be impossible. Every device we could think of had been tried, but the hull moved only with the current. Ordway stood for some time silently looking at the great berg. His hands were thrust into his pockets, and his attitude was one with which I was quite familiar. Ordway was thinking. ‘ Dagwell,” he said finally, breaking the spell, and turning to me, “ do ice- bergs travel against the current? ” CoOMmicbook CO