Roy J. Snell

“ They awoke to a world unknown. The first glimpse outside the cabin brought surprised exclamations to their lips. The "white line" was gone. So, too, was the ocean. Before them, as far as the eye could see, lay a mass of yellow lights and purple shadows, ice-fields that had buried the sea. Only one object stood out black and bare before them—the hull of the wrecked ship.
"Look!" said Lucile, suddenly. "We can go out to the ship over the ice-floe!"
"'THE WHITE LINE!' EXCLAIMED MARION, GRIPPING HER ARM"
"Let's do it," said Marion, eagerly. ”

“ Then with a cry of terror, Marion dragged her companion to the center of the ice-pan and pulled her flat to its surface. From somewhere, far out to sea, a giant tidal wave was sweeping through the ice-floe. Marion had seen it. The mountain of ice which it bore on its crest seemed as high as the solid ridge of rock behind them on the land. And with its weird, wild, rushing scream of grinding and breaking ice, it was traveling toward them. It had the speed of the wind, the force of an avalanche. When it came, what then?
With a rush, the wild terror of the arctic sea burst upon them. ”

“ You must struggle or you'll freeze."
Lucile did try. She strove as she had never done before—against the stiffening garments, the aching lungs and muscles, but most of all against the almost unconquerable desire to sleep.
Foot by foot, yard by yard, they made their way across the treacherous tangle of ice-piles, which was still in restless motion.
Now they had covered a quarter of the distance, now half; now three quarters; and now, with an exultant cry, Marion dragged her half-unconscious companion upon the deck.
"There's a cabin aft," she whispered, "a warm cabin. We'll soon be there." ”