ess situations in which our lads had been placed during the past
few months, the present was, by far, the worst. At any moment the ice
beneath them might open and drop them into fathomless waters. Even if
it held fast, they were certainly being carried out to sea, where they
would be exposed to furious gales that must ultimately work their
destruction. In spite of all this, Cabot Grant insisted on remaining
hopefully cheerful. He said he had squeezed out of just as tight
places before, and believed he would get out of this one somehow. At
any rate, as crying wouldn't help it, he wasn't going to cry. Besides
all sorts of things might happen. They might drift ashore somewhere or
into the track of passing steamers. Wouldn't it be fine to be picked
up and carried straight to New York? If steamers failed them, they
were almost certain to sight fishing boats sooner or later.

"Yes," added White, catching some of his companion's hopefulness, "or
we may meet with the sealers who leave St. Johns about this time every
year and hunt seals on the ice pack off shore."

"Of course," agreed the other. "So what's the use of worrying?"

In spite of the brave front and cheerful aspect that Cabot maintained
before his helpless comrade, he often broke down when off by himself,
vainly straining his eyes from the summit of some ice hummock for any
hopeful sign, and acknowledged that their situation was indeed
desperate.

That first night, spent sleeplessly and in momentary expectation that
the ice beneath them would break, was the worst. After that they
dreaded more than anything the fate that would overtake them with the
disappearance of their slender stock of provisions. While this
diminished with alarming rapidity, despite their efforts at economy,
their ice island drifted out from the strait, and soon afterwards
became incorporated with the great Arctic pack that always in the
spring forces its resistless way steadily south-ward towards the
melting waters of the Gulf Stream.

Land had disappeared with the second day of the ice movement, and after
that, for a week, nothing occurred to break the terrible monotony of
life on the pack, as experienced by our young castaways. Then came the
dreaded announcement that one portion of their supplies was exhausted.
There was no longer a drop of oil for their lamp.

CHAPTER XXX.

THE COMING OF DAVID GIDGE.

White, who was still confined to the hut with his strained ankle,