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Updated: May 3, 2025
I was on the point of asking him if he, too, observed anything queer in the girl, when Armstrong hurried in and handed her a small package, then almost without a word stalked out again, evidently as much to Snowbird's surprise as to our own. She had literally seized the package, as though she were drowning and grasping at a life buoy.
"You bet we are going to-morrow, always providing that yacht of ours is ready. I gave orders yesterday to have something done and...." But I didn't listen any more. I went to the window and drew aside the little curtain. Down below, in the cove, I could see the Snowbird's anchor light, gleaming brilliantly.
He then rose, quietly, and moistened the doctor's lips and his brow while I looked on, feeling that I was the most desolate and helpless thing in the world, and as if I could weep for ever. And then all of a sudden, through the recurring booming voices of the waves breaking on the cliffs outside, burst out the shrill voice of the Snowbird's siren and I rushed to the door.
Those were the sharp words Mark had caught, and for that reason he hesitated to increase the Snowbird's speed. In a strap hung near his left hand was a transmitter. Without taking the advice of any of his companions in the flying machine, Mark seized it, put it to his lips, and replied to the hail: "Ahoy! what do you want?" Instantly the voice rose from the black abyss below them: "Heave to!
It was a hundred yards across at the surface. They seemed to be looking down for five hundred feet, or more, into its greenish depths. Jack had turned the Snowbird's prow and they were drifting toward the western cliffs which guarded the glacier. Here the rocky heights were at least seven hundred feet above the ice.
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