Roy J. Snell

“ It lay not a quarter of a mile from the spot where she stood.
"He's across and can never recross to us!" she moaned in despair. "No creature could brave that undercurrent and live. And there is no other way."
Then, as the full terror of their situation flashed upon her, she sank down in a heap and buried her face in her hands.
They were two girls, ten miles from any land, on the bosom of a vast ice-floe, which was slowly but surely sweeping toward the unknown northern sea. They had no chart, no compass, no trail to follow, and no guide. To move would seem futile. ”

“ He sniffed the ice only now and then as he dashed over great flat pans, then over little mountains of broken ice, to emerge again upon flat surfaces.
Marion understood, and her admiration for Phi grew. He had found the trail of the men who had crossed the straits before them. He had put Rover on that trail. Rover could not fail to follow. The trail was fresh, only seven hours old. Rover could have followed one as many days old.
"Good old Rover!" Marion murmured, "Good old Rover, a white man's dog!" ”

“ Then, too, old Rover will be losing the trail about that time. When that bearded friend of yours and his guide leave the floe to go upon the solid shore-ice of the islands, the floe is going to keep right on moving north. That breaks the trail. See? When we strike the end of that trail we can go due south and strike the islands. If the air is at all clear, we can see them. It's a clumsy arrangement, but better than going it without a trail. ”