by Roy J. Snell
CHAPTER XI
"WITHOUT COMPASS OR GUIDE"
It was with a staggering sense of hopelessness that the two girls onthe bosom of the Arctic floe saw the snow-fog settle down.
"It's likely to last for days, and by that time--" Marian's lipsrefused to frame the words that expressed their condition when thesnow-fog lifted.
"By that time--" echoed Lucile. "But no, we must do something.Surely, there is some way!"
"Without compass or guide?" Marian smiled at the impossibility of therebeing a solution.
Unconsciously, she had repeated the first line of an old song. Lucilesaid over the verse:
"Without compass or guide. On the crest of the tide. Oh! Light of the stars, Pray pilot me home."
Involuntarily, her glance stole skyward. Instantly an exclamationescaped her lips:
"Oh, Marian! We can see them! We can! We can!"
"What can we see?" asked Marian.
"The stars!"
It was true. The snow-fog, though spread over the vast surface of theice, was shallow. The stars gleamed through it as if there were no fogat all.
Wildly their hearts beat now with hope.
"If we can locate the big dipper," said Lucile, whose astronomicalresearch had been of a practical sort, "we can follow the line made bythe two stars at the lower edge of the dipper and find the North Star.All we have to do then is to let the North Star guide us home."
This was quickly done. And in a short while they had mapped out acourse for themselves which would certainly come nearer bringing themto the desired haven than would the north-ward drift of the ice-floe.
"But Phi?" exclaimed Lucile.
Marian stood for a moment undecided. Should they leave this spotwithout him? She believed he would make a faithful attempt to rejointhem. What if they were gone when he came? Suddenly she laughed.
"Rover!" she exclaimed. "He can follow our trail. If Phi comes, hewill have only to follow us. He can travel faster than we shall. Hemay catch up with us."
So with many a backward glance at the gleaming North Star, the twogirls set their course south by east, a course which in time shouldbring them in the vicinity of the Diomede Islands.
In their minds, however, were many questions. Would furthertide-cracks impede their progress? Would the snow-fog continue? If itdid, would they ever be able to locate the two tiny islands which were,after all, mere rocky pillars jutting from a sea of ice?
* * * * * *
Phi did not sit long on the ice-pile under the snow-fog. He was bornfor action. Something must be done. Quickly he was on the run.
As he rushed back over the way in which he had come, something caughthis eye.
An immense ice-pan had been up-ended by the press of the drift. It hadtoppled half over and lodged across the edge of a smaller cake. Now,like an ancient drawbridge, it hung suspended over the black moat ofthe salt water channel.
The boy's quick eye had detected a very slight movement downward. Ashe remembered it now, the cake had made a far more obtuse angle withthe surface of the pool a half-hour before than it did now.
Was there hope in this? Hastily he arranged three bits of ice in onepile, then two in another. By dropping on his stomach and squintingacross these, he could just see the tip of the up-ended cake. If itwere in motion the tip would soon disappear. Eagerly he strained hiseyes for a few seconds. Then, in disgust, he closed his eyes. Thecake did not seem to move.
For some time he lay there in deep thought. He was searching in hismind for a way out.
After a while he opened his eyes. More from curiosity than hope, hesquinted once more along the line. Then, with a wild shout, he spranginto the air. The natural drawbridge was falling. Its point haddropped out of line.
The shout died on his lips. His eyes had warned him that the channelof water was widening. If it widened too rapidly, if the drawbridgefell too slowly, or ceased to fall at all, hope would die.
Moment by moment he measured the two distances with his eye. Rover,sitting by his side, now and again peered up into his eyes as if tosay: "What's it all about?"
Now the drawbridge took a sudden drop of a foot. Hope rose. Then,again, it appeared wedged solidly in place. It did not move. Thechannel widened a foot, two feet, three. Hope seemed vain.
But now came a sudden tide tremor across the floe. With a crunchingsound the massive cake toppled and fell.
The boy was on his feet in an instant. The chasm was bridged. But thecake had broken in two. Could he make it?
Calling to his dog, he leaped upon the slippery surface. Anever-widening river of water flowed where the cake had split. With onewild bound, he cleared it. The dog followed. In another moment theywere safe on the other side.
"That's well over with," the boy sighed, patting the old dog on thehead. "Now the question is, how can we find our friends?"
That, indeed, was a problem. They had covered considerable ground.The ice had been shifting. To pick up their back trail seemedimpossible. An hour's search convinced him that it could not be done.He sat down in a brown study. He could not go away and leave thesegirls to drift north and perish, yet further search seemed futile.
Just as he was about to despair, Rover began to bark in the distance.Following the sound, he came to where the dog was apparently barking atnothing. But as the boy approached, the dog shot away over the ice.
"A trail!" he muttered, following on.
The ice was hard and smooth. A soft skin "muckluck" would leave nomark. Even the hard toes of a white bear would not scratch it.
When the boy had followed for a half-hour, he thought of these things,and paused to consider. What if he were following the meandering trailof a lumbering white bear? And if it happened to be a trail of a humanbeing, was it his own trail, that of the girls, or of the bearded minerand his guide?
His compass would tell something. Studying his compass then, he walkedforward slowly.
Fifteen minutes of this told him that this was no white bear's trail.It went too straight ahead for that. Neither could it be his owntrail, for he would have come to a sudden turn before this. One thingmore was certain: The person or persons who made this trail were headeddue south by east. They would, if they did not change their course, intime reach the vicinity of the Diomede Islands. Were they his friends,or the unfaithful guide and his party? This he could not tell.
After a few moments' reflection he decided that there remained but onething for him to do: to follow this trail.
"All right, old dog," he said, "let's see where this ends, and who's atthe end. Might be an Eskimo hunter who has wandered far on theice-floe, for all I know; but he'll end up sometime."
Moment by moment the scent of the trail they followed grew fresher. Hecould tell this by the old dog's growing eagerness. At every ice-pilethey rounded, he expected to catch sight of human figures. Would it betwo men or two girls? He could not tell. Not a chance footprint insoft snow had caught his eye.
When he had fairly given up hope of overtaking them, as he speededaround a gigantic ice-pile he came at once in sight of those hefollowed. So overjoyed was he at sight of human beings that, beforedetermining their identity, he shouted cheerily:
"Hey, there!"
The figure nearest him wheeled in his track. Then, with the fiercegrowl of a beast, he sprang at the boy's throat.
So taken by surprise was Phi that he made no defense. He caught avision of a pair of fiery eyes set in a mass of shaggy hair; the nextinstant he felt himself crashed to the hard surface of the ice.
The advantage was all with the man. Larger, stronger, older, with thehandicap of the aggressor, he bade fare to finish his work quickly.
The native guide had passed beyond the next ice-pile. Rover hadfollowed.
But the boy's college days had not been for naught; he knew a trick ortwo. As if stunned by the fall, he relaxed and lay motionless. Seeingthis, the man too
k time to plant his knees on the boy's chest beforemoving his horny hands toward his throat.
The next instant, as if thrown by a springboard, the man flew into theair. Phi sprang to his feet, his one thought of escape. Turning, hedashed around an ice-pile, then another and another. But fate was notwith him. Just at the moment when he felt that he could elude hispursuer, his foot struck a crevice in the ice, and he went sprawling.Again the wild terror was upon him.
But this time there came tearing over the ice a new wild terror, andthis one his friend. Old Rover, silent and determined, sprang clean atthe man's throat. The assailant went down, striking out with hands andfeet, and roaring for mercy.
Phi dragged the dog off. "Get!" he said. The man looked surly, butone look at the determined boy and the eager jaws of the dog set himslouching away.
"You're some dog!" the boy laughed at the old leader. "Well, now, I'llsay you are!"