d had an appetite, and the
air was excessively cold. The appetite began to call for food and drink,
and the cold drove him to exercise. And so, rising at last and drying
his eyes, he very wisely resolved:

"There's no good to come from crying or mourning about Jimmy, I suppose,
or what's past. I've got to do something for myself now. There's a
chance the ice may drive back with a shift of wind, and I've got to try
to keep alive as long as I can."

He had nothing to eat, no cup into which to melt ice for water, and no
lamp or seal oil with which to make a fire over which to melt the ice
had he possessed a cup, but he set out at a rapid pace to explore the
ice field, clinging as he walked to his snow knife, the only weapon he
possessed, for his rifle had been left upon the _komatik_, and in a
little while he discovered that the pack was not so large as he had
supposed it to be, for the heavy seas of the night before had eaten away
its edges. It had broken away, indeed, to a point far within the
boundaries of their old _igloo_ and the place where they had hunted.

"The first little blow will break the whole floe up," he said
dejectedly. "Anyhow I suppose it won't matter, for I'll soon starve to
death without a gun."

But out to the southward lay a great field of ice, and it seemed not so
far away. An hour's observation assured Bobby that his small floe was
traveling much more rapidly than this larger field, and was gradually
approaching it. Late in the afternoon he caught the glint of miniature
bergs, as the sunlight touched them, rising above the great floe ahead,
and as he watched them a burst of understanding came upon him.

"It's the great North pack!" he exclaimed. "It's the Arctic pack! If I
can get on that I'll be safe from drowning, anyhow, for a few days! It's
stronger than this, and it'll stand some good blows."

To quench his thirst he clipped particles of ice with his snow knife and
sucked them, while he ran up and down to keep warm. And, as night
approached, he built a new night shelter from snow blocks, near the
center of his floe, and, very hungry and despondent, crawled into it to
lie long and think of Abel Zachariah and Mrs. Abel, and the lost
happiness in the cabin which was his home; and of Skipper Ed and Jimmy,
and of the old days that were now gone forever, when he and Jimmy had
played together with never a thought of the terrible fate that awaited
them; and of the adventure on the cliff, and the