The natives now bestirred themselves and threw to the captain a large hunting knife and rifle, attached to their long sled lashings. With a good deal of exertion, the captain crawled upon the ice, and with the knife he chopped a hole, and inserted the rifle barrel, fastening the lashings to it and holding it firmly in place. The natives then pulled with united strength on the line, bringing the ice cake slowly up toward the captain until within a few feet of the shore ice, when, using a sled for a bridge, they and the dogs crossed safely over, without so much as wetting their feet. To all, this was a matter for great rejoicing, and no regretful farewells were given to the ice floe which had been their prison house so long. They were not yet out of danger, however, for the shore ice upon which they stood might, in the gale, at any moment be loosened and carry them, like the other, out into the ocean. So with all haste possible, they proceeded to get away. Punni Churah brought the captain's fur sleeping bag and robes, in which he was stowed away in one of the sleds, though his wet clothing was now frozen. There was no time nor place to make a change, with the thermometer nearly forty degrees below zero. Hours afterward they reached the mainland. How good once more to step foot on terra firma! The dogs barked, and the natives hallooed cheerfully to each other, for they were now going home. A deserted native village was soon entered, an igloo in passable condition taken possession of, and the dogs tied up for the night. The natives now worked rapidly and cheerfully, two putting up their camp stove, another bringing snow for water with which to make the coffee, and Punni Churah looking after the captain, who tried to remove his clothing, but to no purpose. Muckluks and trousers were frozen together, and as fast as the ice melted sufficiently they were cut away. Contrary to his expectations, he was not severely frozen, a white patch, the size of his hand, appearing upon each limb above the knee. With these they did the best they could, and dry clothing from the sleds was put on. Their supper that night was a feast of rejoicing. They were now on the home trail, and would soon be among friends. One more day of travel and their long, hazardous, and eventful trip of two hundred miles over an Arctic waste would be successfully accomplished. As they rolled themselves in their furs at midnight for a few hours of needed rest and sleep, they could almost fancy themselves at home again and happy. The dogs huddled in the snow outside, now and then barking in their usual way, but the tired men in the igloo did not hear them, for their sleep was oblivion, after the strain of the last two weeks.