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The old sailor determined that the "Jeune-Hardie" should put to sea without delay. The solidly built ship had no need of repairs. Jean Cornbutte gave his sailors notice that if they wished to re-embark, no change in the crew would be made. He alone replaced his son in the command of the brig.
At this moment an enormous block of ice, in the narrow strait through which the brig was passing, came rapidly down upon her, and it seemed impossible to avoid it, for it barred the whole width of the channel, and the brig could not heave-to. "Do you feel the tiller?" asked Cornbutte of Penellan. "No, captain. The ship does not answer the helm any longer."
About the 1st of November, ten days after they had set out, the caravan had gone fifty leagues to the northward. Weariness pressed heavily on all. Jean Cornbutte was painfully dazzled, and his sight sensibly changed. Aupic and Misonne had to feel their way: for their eyes, rimmed with red, seemed burnt by the white reflection.
When night, or rather sleeping-time, came, the little hut was carried under the tent, where it served as a bed-room for Marie. The evening repast was composed of fresh meat, pemmican, and hot tea. Jean Cornbutte, to avert danger of the scurvy, distributed to each of the party a few drops of lemon-juice. Then all slept under God's protection.
Louis took a decisive resolution. He went up to the mate, and, controlling himself with difficulty, said, "Do you know where the lemons are, Vasling?" "In the steward's room, I suppose," returned the mate, without stirring. "You know they are not there, as you have stolen them!" "You are master, Louis Cornbutte, and may say and do anything." "For pity's sake, André Vasling, my father is dying!
"How old is my uncle Cornbutte?" said Marie. "Something about sixty years," replied Penellan. "Well, is he not going to brave danger to find his son?" "Our captain is still a sturdy man," returned the sailor. "He has a body of oak and muscles as hard as a spare spar. So I am not afraid to have him go to sea again!" "My good Penellan," said Marie, "one is strong when one loves!
Instead of merchandise, she was completely provided with salt meats, biscuits, barrels of flour, potatoes, pork, wine, brandy, coffee, tea, and tobacco. The departure was fixed for the 22nd of May. On the evening before, André Vasling, who had not yet given his answer to Jean Cornbutte, came to his house. He was still undecided, and did not know which course to take.
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 Cornbutte 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.
This succeeded completely. While Misonne was at work upon the sledge, Penellan, aided by Marie, was preparing the clothing necessary for the expedition. Seal-skin boots they had, fortunately, in plenty. Jean Cornbutte and André Vasling occupied themselves with the provisions.
I see a point of land which will shelter us splendidly from the north-east wind." "Come along, boys!" said Jean Cornbutte. His companions followed him, and they soon rejoined Penellan. The sailor had said what was true. An elevated point of land jutted out like a promontory, and curving towards the coast, formed a little inlet of a mile in width at most.
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