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And each brought a ship's-lantern. Wilson had dug an ice-grave near the hummock, leaving at its edge a heap of brash-ice and snow to fill it. We stood separated by an interval of perhaps seventy yards, the grave between us, each with a lantern at his feet. Even so we were mere shadowy apparitions one to the other.
While the wind lasted, with every yard of canvas alow and aloft the ship could carry, we pressed our onward way sometimes among floes, threatening every instant to close in and nip us; at other times with drift and brash-ice surrounding us; and at others amid open ice, with here and there floating icebergs appearing near us.
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