all got out again except one. Taking all the run that I could get on
my little pan, I made a dive, slithering with the impetus along the
surface till once more I sank through. After a long fight, however, I
was able to haul myself by the long traces on to this new pan, having
taken care beforehand to tie the harnesses to which I was holding
under the dogs' bellies, so that they could not slip them off. But
alas! the pan I was now on was not large enough to bear us and was
already beginning to sink, so this process had to be repeated
immediately.

I now realized that, though we had been working toward the shore, we
had been losing ground all the time, for the off-shore wind had
already driven us a hundred yards farther out. But the widening gap
kept full of the pounded ice, through which no man could possibly go.

I had decided I would rather stake my chances on a long swim even than
perish by inches on the floe, as there was no likelihood whatever of
being seen and rescued. But, keenly though I watched, not a streak
even of clear water appeared, the interminable sish rising from below
and filling every gap as it appeared. We were now resting on a piece
of ice about ten by twelve feet, which, as I found when I came to
examine it, was not ice at all, but simply snow-covered slob frozen
into a mass, and I feared it would very soon break up in the general
turmoil of the heavy sea, which was increasing as the ice drove off
shore before the wind.

At first we drifted in the direction of a rocky point on which a heavy
surf was breaking. Here I thought once again to swim ashore. But
suddenly we struck a rock. A large piece broke off the already small
pan, and what was left swung round in the backwash, and started right
out to sea.

There was nothing for it now but to hope for a rescue. Alas! there was
little possibility of being seen. As I have already mentioned, no one
lives around this big bay. My only hope was that the other komatik,
knowing I was alone and had failed to keep my tryst, would perhaps
come back to look for me. This, however, as it proved, they did not
do.

The westerly wind was rising all the time, our coldest wind at this
time of the year, coming as it does over the Gulf ice. It was
tantalizing, as I stood with next to nothing on, the wind going
through me and every stitch soaked in ice-water, to see my
well-stocked komatik some fifty yards away. It was still above water,
with food, hot tea in a therm