The fury of the storm increased with every moment. It drifted past and
around them in dense and stifling clouds and at times nearly choked
them. The wind shrieked and moaned among the hummocks. In the distance
they could hear the boom of the seas hammering upon the floe and
threatening it with destruction, and now with growing frequency rising
above the sound of shrieking wind and booming seas they were startled by
the cannon-like report of smashing ice.
At last the flying snow become so dense there was danger they would lose
the _komatik_ and lose each other, and they came together again, groping
their way blindly to the _komatik_, which was nearly hidden under the
drift, and the sleeping dogs, which by this time were wholly invisible.
"The snow is too soft," Bobby announced. "I've tried it everywhere, and
every block that I cut falls to pieces."
"I couldn't find any, either," said Jimmy, "but we've got to do
something. We'll perish without shelter."
"I'm afraid there's no use trying to build an _igloo_," acknowledged
Bobby, "though we needn't perish if we can't make one. But I don't want
to give up yet. Let's try just a little longer, but we must keep as
close to the _komatik_ as we can, or we'll get separated."
"We can't live through the night without an _igloo_!" Jimmy again
declared, adding wistfully: "I wonder if our old _igloo_ isn't all right
yet, after all? It sat a little back, you know, from the water."
"It wouldn't be safe," Bobby protested.
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