"Cornb.u.t.te," said he to the captain, who had come up to him, "we are buried under this snow!"
"What say you?" cried Jean Cornb.u.t.te.
"I say that the snow is ma.s.sed and frozen around us and over us, and that we are buried alive!"
"Let us try to clear this ma.s.s of snow away," replied the captain.
The two friends b.u.t.tressed themselves against the obstacle which obstructed the opening, but they could not move it. The snow formed an iceberg more than five feet thick, and had become literally a part of the house. Jean could not suppress a cry, which awoke Misonne and Vasling. An oath burst from the latter, whose features contracted. At this moment the smoke, thicker than ever, poured into the house, for it could not find an issue.
"Malediction!" cried Misonne. "The pipe of the stove is sealed up by the ice!"
Penellan resumed his staff, and took down the pipe, after throwing snow on the embers to extinguish them, which produced such a smoke that the light of the lamp could scarcely be seen; then he tried with his staff to clear out the orifice, but he only encountered a rock of ice! A frightful end, preceded by a terrible agony, seemed to be their doom! The smoke, penetrating the throats of the unfortunate party, caused an insufferable pain, and air would soon fail them altogether!
Marie here rose, and her presence, which inspired Cornb.u.t.te with despair, imparted some courage to Penellan. He said to himself that it could not be that the poor girl was destined to so horrible a death.
"Ah!" said she, "you have made too much fire. The room is full of smoke!"
"Yes, yes," stammered Penellan.
"It is evident," resumed Marie, "for it is not cold, and it is long since we have felt too much heat."
No one dared to tell her the truth.
"See, Marie," said Penellan bluntly, "help us get breakfast ready. It is too cold to go out. Here is the chafing-dish, the spirit, and the coffee. Come, you others, a little pemmican first, as this wretched storm forbids us from hunting."
These words stirred up his comrades.
"Let us first eat," added Penellan, "and then we shall see about getting off."
Penellan set the example and devoured his share of the breakfast.
His comrades imitated him, and then drank a cup of boiling coffee, which somewhat restored their spirits. Then Jean Cornb.u.t.te decided energetically that they should at once set about devising means of safety.
Andre Vasling now said,--
"If the storm is still raging, which is probable, we must be buried ten feet under the ice, for we can hear no noise outside."
Penellan looked at Marie, who now understood the truth, and did not tremble. The helmsman first heated, by the flame of the spirit, the iron point of his staff, and successfully introduced it into the four walls of ice, but he could find no issue in either. Cornb.u.t.te then resolved to cut out an opening in the door itself. The ice was so hard that it was difficult for the knives to make the least impression on it. The pieces which were cut off soon enc.u.mbered the hut. After working hard for two hours, they had only hollowed out a s.p.a.ce three feet deep.
Some more rapid method, and one which was less likely to demolish the house, must be thought of; for the farther they advanced the more violent became the effort to break off the compact ice. It occurred to Penellan to make use of the chafing-dish to melt the ice in the direction they wanted. It was a hazardous method, for, if their imprisonment lasted long, the spirit, of which they had but little, would be wanting when needed to prepare the meals.
Nevertheless, the idea was welcomed on all hands, and was put in execution. They first cut a hole three feet deep by one in diameter, to receive the water which would result from the melting of the ice; and it was well that they took this precaution, for the water soon dripped under the action of the flames, which Penellan moved about under the ma.s.s of ice. The opening widened little by little, but this kind of work could not be continued long, for the water, covering their clothes, penetrated to their bodies here and there. Penellan was obliged to pause in a quarter of an hour, and to withdraw the chafing-dish in order to dry himself. Misonne then took his place, and worked st.u.r.dily at the task.
In two hours, though the opening was five feet deep, the points of the staffs could not yet find an issue without.
"It is not possible," said Jean Cornb.u.t.te, "that snow could have fallen in such abundance. It must have been gathered on this point by the wind. Perhaps we had better think of escaping in some other direction."
"I don"t know," replied Penellan; "but if it were only for the sake of not discouraging our comrades, we ought to continue to pierce the wall where we have begun. We must find an issue ere long."
"Will not the spirit fail us?" asked the captain.
"I hope not. But let us, if necessary, dispense with coffee and hot drinks. Besides, that is not what most alarms me."
"What is it, then, Penellan?"
"Our lamp is going out, for want of oil, and we are fast exhausting our provisions.--At last, thank G.o.d!"
Penellan went to replace Andre Vasling, who was vigorously working for the common deliverance.
"Monsieur Vasling," said he, "I am going to take your place; but look out well, I beg of you, for every tendency of the house to fall, so that we may have time to prevent it."
The time for rest had come, and when Penellan had added one more foot to the opening, he lay down beside his comrades.
CHAPTER XI.
A CLOUD OF SMOKE.
The next day, when the sailors awoke, they were surrounded by complete darkness. The lamp had gone out. Jean Cornb.u.t.te roused Penellan to ask him for the tinder-box, which was pa.s.sed to him.
Penellan rose to light the fire, but in getting up, his head struck against the ice ceiling. He was horrified, for on the evening before he could still stand upright. The chafing-dish being lighted up by the dim rays of the spirit, he perceived that the ceiling was a foot lower than before.
Penellan resumed work with desperation.
At this moment the young girl observed, by the light which the chafing-dish cast upon Penellan"s face, that despair and determination were struggling in his rough features for the mastery. She went to him, took his hands, and tenderly pressed them.
[Ill.u.s.tration: despair and determination were struggling in his rough features for the mastery.]
"She cannot, must not die thus!" he cried.
He took his chafing-dish, and once more attacked the narrow opening. He plunged in his staff, and felt no resistance. Had he reached the soft layers of the snow? He drew out his staff, and a bright ray penetrated to the house of ice!
"Here, my friends!" he shouted.
He pushed back the snow with his hands and feet, but the exterior surface was not thawed, as he had thought. With the ray of light, a violent cold entered the cabin and seized upon everything moist, to freeze it in an instant. Penellan enlarged the opening with his cutla.s.s, and at last was able to breathe the free air.
He fell on his knees to thank G.o.d, and was soon joined by Marie and his comrades.
A magnificent moon lit up the sky, but the cold was so extreme that they could not bear it. They re-entered their retreat; but Penellan first looked about him. The promontory was no longer there, and the hut was now in the midst of a vast plain of ice.
Penellan thought he would go to the sledge, where the provisions were. The sledge had disappeared!
The cold forced him to return. He said nothing to his companions.
It was necessary, before all, to dry their clothing, which was done with the chafing-dish. The thermometer, held for an instant in the air, descended to thirty degrees below zero.
An hour after, Vasling and Penellan resolved to venture outside.
They wrapped themselves up in their still wet garments, and went out by the opening, the sides of which had become as hard as a rock.
"We have been driven towards the north-east," said Vasling, reckoning by the stars, which shone with wonderful brilliancy.
"That would not be bad," said Penellan, "if our sledge had come with us."