. Spreading their bearskins
on the ice-floor, they laid heads on ice-pillows, and soon fell into
that dreamless, restful slumber which is the usual accompaniment of
youth, health, and vigour.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

SHOWS A GLOOMY PROSPECT--STARVATION THREATENED, AND WONDERFULLY AVERTED.

Angut was a true prophet. When Rooney awoke next morning, his ears told
him that the rushing of ice-cold rivulets through ice-valleys, and the
roar of ice-born cataracts had increased considerably during the hours
of darkness.

The warmth which caused this did not, indeed, at first strike him, for
the air of the cavern and the character of his bed had chilled him so
much that he was shivering with cold. On glancing at his still sleeping
comrades in misfortune, he observed that these tough creatures slept
with the peaceful aspect of infants, whom, being both fat and rotund,
they resembled in nearly everything except size.

Rising and going quietly out, he beat his arms vigorously across his
chest until circulation was fully restored. Then he mounted a
neighbouring ice-ledge, and saw at a glance that their case had become
desperate.

"Angut was right," he murmured bitterly, and then stood for a long time
contemplating the scene in silence.

Considered apart from their circumstances, the scene was indeed
glorious. Not only had the warmth of the air begun to swell the
rivulets which leaped and brawled down the pale-green slopes around him,
but the pack had opened out, so as to completely change the aspect of
the sea. Instead of being clothed with ice, showing only a lane of
water here and there, it was now an open sea crowded with innumerable
ice-islets of every fantastic shape and size.

It added something to the bitterness of the poor man's feelings that
this state of things would, he knew, have been the very best for their
escape in kayaks and oomiaks, for a profound calm prevailed, and the
sea, where clear of ice, glittered in the rising sun like a shield of
polished gold.

He was roused from his meditations by the sound of footsteps behind him.
Turning quickly, he beheld Ippegoo holding his jaws with both hands and
with an expression of unutterable woe on his face.

"Halo, Ippe, what's wrong with you?"

A groan was the reply, and Rooney, although somewhat anxious, found it
difficult to restrain a laugh.

"I've got--oh! oh! oh! oh!--a mad tooth," gasped the poor youth.

"A mad tooth! Poor fellow!--we call that