At any rate, as crying wouldn't help it, he wasn't going to cry.

Besides all sorts of things might happen.

They might drift ashore somewhere or into the track of passing steamers.

Wouldn't it be fine to be picked up and carried straight to New York?
If steamers failed them, they were almost certain to sight fishing boats sooner or later.
"Yes," added White, catching some of his companion's hopefulness, "or we may meet with the sealers who leave St.Johns about this time every year and hunt seals on the ice pack off shore." "Of course," agreed the other.

"So what's the use of worrying ?" In spite of the brave front and cheerful aspect that Cabot maintained before his helpless comrade, he often broke down when off by himself, vainly straining his eyes from the summit of some ice hummock for any hopeful sign, and acknowledged that their situation was indeed desperate.
That first night, spent sleeplessly and in momentary expectation that the ice beneath them would break, was the worst.