The Argosy, Christmas 1912 — page 25: what you’re looking at

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

LOOSING THE TEMPEST. So, also, had gone most of our blan- kets and furs. But one fur robe re- mained. That we had spread out on the ice to sit on when we rested from the almost incessant walking or run- ning that was necessary to keep our blood in circulation. What was left of the Northbird had gone also. And all our kitchen utén- sils, cups, plates—everything. There remained for us then only long hours of hunger, the numbing of our bodies, the stifling of our voices, and the agony of starvation. The thunder of the explosion seemed to accompany a repelling force, for the two pieces of ice parted quickly, and our lighter one was apparently hurled from the other as a meteor might be hurled from one of the heavenly bodies. The gap continued to widen, till at least five hundred feet of water, filled with floating débris of ice, interveried. Then Ordway, with his magnificent will-power, regained mastery of him- self. “Dag,” he said, speaking calmly, “TI don’t know what the end of this may be, but now, while we are in pos- session of our senses, let us shake hands on a resolve, and stick to it.” “Tl shake hands with you on any- thing, Ordway,” I replied as calmly as he had spoken. “ What is it?”’ “You know as well as I do, Dag, that men go mad sometimes in these conditions. Only the moment before that roar began you and I were on the verge of a quarrel. We have been in mighty dangerous places together, and have never even had a hint of a dis- agreement before. The ice-madness was coming on us. The shock of—of what happened—recalled us to our senses. Let us agree right now that no matter what comes, there shall be no hasty words between us. We can't afford it—we two.” { held out my hand spontaneously. He grasped it. “Now,” he went on, “ we can’t af- ford, either, to remain here idle, just ‘the cold,” he said. 11 waiting for death. To wait for it is to meet it surely.” _ “ What else is there to do? ” I asked. “Come here a minute.” I walked to the edge facing the other portion of the berg, which may now be called the berg, as ours was but a float- ing fragment, and pointed to the ice- laden water between. “T don’t believe,” I said, “ that any human being could live in that water long enough to swim over yonder. Paralysis of the heart would probably follow the first plunge. But if you want to try it, I will, too.” He measured the distance with his eyes, studied the heavy cakes that jammed each other, then floated apart, caroming again on others, as the tide swept through the channel, and the waves bore the lighter cakes against the heavier ones. “Our greatest danger wouldn’t be “It would be the impact of the ice-cakes. A swimmer caught between two of them coming together could hope for nothing. Let's wait a bit, and see how the berg acts. The two pieces may come together again yet. Who knows what tricks the currents will play in these waters? ”’ I remembered the cause of our in- cipient quarrel, and while Ordway was still studying the chasm between our cake and the berg proper, I took my glass from its case and looked long and steadily in the direction where he had claimed he saw land. The atmosphere may have grown clearer, or in my calmer moments my vision might have improved, but cer- tainly [ did seem to discern, miles and miles away, what looked like a thin line of darker horizon than the sea itself afforded. But the sight of land, if it was land, did no more than accentuate the hope- lessness of our position. Had we known it to be a garden of Eden transplanted to that frozen zone we could not have reached it. And with the taking away of our sheltering cave came the knowledge CoOMmicbook CO