began to draw them toward the bank. The ice creaked as Wiggins' chest
came over the edge of the hole; but it did not break; and his body once
flat on the ice, the Terror hauled them to the side of the pond easily.
He dragged Erebus, still by the ankles, half up the bank to get most of
her weight off the ice. Then he stepped down on to it and picked up
Wiggins. Erebus' stiff fingers still grasped his wrists; and they did
not open easily to let them go.

The Terror took one look at the deathly faintly-breathing Wiggins; then
he pulled off his woolen gloves, drew his knife from his pocket, opened
the blade with his teeth for quickness' sake, tossed it to Erebus and
cried: "Cut off his skates! Pull off his boots and stockings!"

Then with swift deft fingers he stripped off Wiggins' coat, jersey and
waistcoat, pulled on his gloves, caught up a handful of snow and began
to rub his chest violently. In the spring the Twins had attended a
course of the St. John's Ambulance Society lectures, and among other
things had learned how to treat those dying from exposure. The Terror
was the quicker dealing with Wiggins since he had so often been the
subject on which he and Erebus had practised many kinds of first-aid.

He rubbed hard till the skin reddened with the blood flowing back into
it. Erebus with feeble fumbling fingers (she was almost spent with
cold and terror) cut the straps of his skates and the laces of his
boots, pulled them off, pulled off his stockings, and rubbed feebly at
his legs. The Terror turned Wiggins over and rubbed his back violently
till the blood reddened that. Wiggins uttered a little gasping grunt.

Forthwith the Terror pulled off his own coat and jersey and put them on
Wiggins; then he pulled off Wiggins' knickerbockers and rubbed his
thighs till they reddened; then he pulled off his stockings and pulled
them on Wiggins' legs. The stockings came well up his thighs; and the
Terror's coat and jersey came well down them. Wiggins was completely
covered. But the Terror was not satisfied; he called on Erebus for her
stockings and pulled them on Wiggins over his own; then he took her
jacket and tied it round Wiggins' waist by the sleeves.

Wiggins was much less blue; and the whiteness of his cheeks was no
longer a dead waxen color. He opened his eyes twice and shut them
feebly.

The Terror shook him, and shouted: "Come on, old chap! Make an effort!
We want to get you home!"

With that he ra