Thankful enough were the dorymates to tread once more the firm deck of the old _Vixen_, and hearty was the welcome given them by her crew. All the other dories, except that which held Hank Hoffer, had been got safely on board, some with all their trawls, and others with only portions of them. The lost dory, with its solitary occupant, had become but a dim speck against the white background of ice that now covered the sea as far as their sight could reach. The boys barely caught a glimpse of it as it was pointed out to them from the deck of the schooner before it vanished entirely. They both sprang into the main rigging to get another sight of it; but, though they climbed to the mast-head, they could not again discover it. They did, however, see several icebergs drifting in that direction, and it was with heavy hearts and very sober faces that they descended to the deck and reported the probable fate that had overtaken their shipmate. He had proved himself their enemy, and even among the rougher members of the crew he had made no friends. Still he was a human being, who for more than a week had formed one of their little community, and been thrown into close companionship with them. Now he was called upon to suffer terribly, and alone, a fate that might have overtaken any one of them, and they pitied him from the bottom of their hearts. With the exception of a few puffy squalls, the morning had been without moving air enough to lift the ensign that still drooped listlessly from the main rigging, but about noon a breeze sprang up from the southward. With the first sign of wind the _Vixen’s_ anchor was hove up, sail was made, and she began to beat slowly in the direction taken by the missing dory, through a lead of clear water that had opened through the floe. There was not much chance that anything would ever again be seen of it or its unfortunate occupant; but they could not give him up without making an effort to save him, and so, for several hours, the almost hopeless search was continued. Navigation was extremely difficult, for the spaces of open water were few and often very narrow. Sometimes they led abruptly into ice so closely packed that no headway could be made against it, and the schooner barely held her own, as it ground and scraped along her sides with a force that threatened to cut through even her stout planking. At length Breeze, who had climbed to the mast-head to take a look through the skipper’s glass, reported that he could see something black that looked like a man on one of the icebergs they had noticed earlier in the day, and which they were now approaching.