Still the ice was firm enough, and in any case
there was no advantage to be had by turning back, for he was as near
one shore as the other.
Already the surface of the ice, which, with several warm days, had
become more or less porous and rotten, was covered with deep slush.
The western sky was now blackened by heavy wind clouds, and with
scarce any warning the breeze developed into a gale. Forcing his dogs
forward at their best pace, while he ran by the side of the komatik,
he soon put another mile behind him. Before him the shore loomed up,
and did not seem far away. But every minute counted. It was evident
the ice could not stand the strain of the wind much longer.
Presently one of Grenfell's feet went through where slush covered an
opening crack. He shouted at the dogs, but, buffeted by wind and
floundering through slush, they could travel no faster though they
made every effort to do so, for they, no less perhaps than their
master, realized the danger that threatened them.
Then, suddenly, the ice went asunder, not in large pans as it would
have done earlier in the winter when it was stout and hard, but in a
mass of small pieces, with only now and again a small pan.
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