"If I wos a fly I'd know wot to do.
I'd walk up the side o' that cliff till I got to a dry bit, and then I'd stick on.

But, not bein' a fly, in coorse I can't." Buzzby said this in a recklessly facetious tone, and Tom Green followed it up with a remark to the effect that "he'd be blowed if he ever wos in sich a fix in his life;" intimating his belief, at the same time, that his "toes wos freezin'." "No fear o' that," said the second mate; "they'll no freeze as lang as they're in the water.

We'll just have to stand here till the tide goes doon." Saunders said this in a dogged tone, and immediately put his plan in force by crossing his arms and planting his feet firmly on the submerged ice and wide apart.

Buzzby and Green, however, adopted the wiser plan of moving constantly about within a small circle, and after Saunders had argued for half-an-hour as to the advantages of his plan, he followed their example.

The tide rose above their knees, but they had fortunately on boots made by the Esquimaux, which were perfectly waterproof; their feet, therefore, although very cold, were quite dry.