"Poor old Partner! See him out there?
I wonder what he'll do."
And then they shouted to Skipper Ed, and again and again they shouted,
but the wind blew their shouts back into their teeth and Skipper Ed did
not hear them, and at last he faded away, and the land ice faded away in
the cloud of drifting snow.
"There's going to be a hard blow, and we'll have to find a place to
build our _igloo_," Bobby at length suggested.
"Yes," agreed Jimmy. "I'm glad we've got the snow knives and the lamp.
If it comes to blow hard we'd perish in the open."
"And I'm glad we've got these seals, and some tea and biscuits," added
Bobby. "I'm famishing. We'll have to get back among the hummocks to find
a drift for the _igloo_. Our old _igloo_, I suppose, has been washed
away before this. Anyway, it's too near the surf to be safe."
"I'm afraid there's no drift, except among the big hummocks on the other
side, that's big enough for an _igloo_" suggested Jimmy disconsolately,
"and I think you're right about it being too near open water out there
to be safe, for if the ice breaks it'll break there first."
"Yes, but we may find something toward the center," agreed Bobby, as he
took up the whip and turned the dogs about. "We've got to make some kind
of shelter."
And so they made their way back among the pressure hummocks, and,
compelling the dogs to lie down, each with a snow knife began his search
for a suitable snow drift upon which to build an _igloo_.
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