I stood up, I could see about twenty yards away a larger pan floating
amidst the sish, like a great flat raft, and if we could get on to it
we should postpone at least for a time the death that already seemed
almost inevitable. It was impossible to reach it without a life line,
as I had already learned to my cost, and the next problem was how to
get one there. Marvellous to relate, when I had first fallen through,
after I had cut the dogs adrift without any hope left of saving
myself, I had not let my knife sink, but had fastened it by two half
hitches to the back of one of the dogs. To my great joy there it was
still, and shortly I was at work cutting all the sealskin traces
still hanging from the dogs' harnesses, and splicing them together
into one long line. These I divided and fastened to the backs of my
two leaders, tying the near ends round my two wrists. I then pointed
out to "Brin" the pan I wanted to reach and tried my best to make them
go ahead, giving them the full length of my lines from two coils. My
long sealskin moccasins, reaching to my thigh, were full of ice and
water. These I took off and tied separately on the dogs' backs. My
coat, hat, gloves, and overalls I had already lost. At first, nothing
would induce the two dogs to move, and though I threw them off the pan
two or three times, they struggled back upon it, which perhaps was
only natural, because as soon as they fell through they could see
nowhere else to make for. To me, however, this seemed to spell "the
end." Fortunately, I had with me a small black spaniel, almost a
featherweight, with large furry paws, called "Jack," who acts as my
mascot and incidentally as my retriever. This at once flashed into my
mind, and I felt I had still one more chance for life. So I spoke to
him and showed him the direction, and then threw a piece of ice toward
the desired goal. Without a moment's hesitation he made a dash for it,
and to my great joy got there safely, the tough scale of sea ice
carrying his weight bravely. At once I shouted to him to "lie down,"
and this, too, he immediately did, looking like a little black fuzz
ball on the white setting. My leaders could now see him seated there
on the new piece of floe, and when once more I threw them off they
understood what I wanted, and fought their way to where they saw the
spaniel, carrying with them the line that gave me the one chance for
my life. The other dogs followed them, and after painful struggling,