curling as they foamed by high above her rail. Then the wind fell, and
Dampier, who got an observation, armed his deep-sea lead, and, finding
shells and shoal water, went aft to talk to Wyllard with the strip of
Dunton's chart.

Wyllard, who was clad in oilskins, stood by the wheel. His face was
tanned and roughened by cold and stinging brine. There was an open sore
upon one of his elbows, and both his wrists were raw. Forward, a white
man and two Siwash were standing about the windlass, and when the bows
went up a dreary stretch of slate-gray sea opened beyond them, beneath
the dripping jibs. The _Selache_ was carrying sail, and lurching over
the steep swell at some four knots an hour.

Dampier stopped near the wheel, and glanced at Wyllard's oilskins.

"You'll have to take them off. It's stuffed boots and those Indian
seal-gut things or furs from now on," he said. "That leather cuff's
chewing up your hand."

"We'll cut that out," replied Wyllard; "it's not to the point. Can't you
get on?"

Dampier grinned. "We're on soundings, and they and Dunton's longitude
'most agree. With this wind we should pick the beach up in the next two
days. Next question is, where were those men?"

"Where are they?" corrected Wyllard.

"If they've pushed on it's probably a different thing, though, if they'd
food yonder, I don't quite see why they'd want to push on anywhere. It
wouldn't be south, anyway. They'd run up against the Russians there."

"We've decided that already."

"I'm admitting it," said the skipper. "There's the other choice that
they've gone up north. It's narrower across to Alaska there, and it's
quite likely they might have a notion of looking out for one of the
steam whalers. The Koriaks up yonder will have boats of some kind. If
the boats are skin ones like those the Huskies have they might sledge
them on the ice."

It was a suggestion that had been made several times before, but both
the men realized that there was in all probability very little to
warrant it. Wyllard had wasted no time endeavoring to learn what was
known about the desolation on the western shore of the Behring Sea. He
had bought a schooner and set out at once. It appeared almost impossible
to him that any three men could haul the skin boats and supplies they
would need far over hummocky ice.

"The point is that we'll have to fix on some course in the next few
days," added Dampier. "Say we run in to make inquiries"--a gleam of grim
amuseme