The boys were so hungry that they kept an eye open continually for game. But not so much as a bird showed itself. It was truly the land of ice and snow, and nothing else. On the fifth day, the case containing alcohol sprung a leak, and all of the precious stuff was lost in the snow. "We'll have to eat our meals cold after this," said Barwell Dawson. "Too bad, but it can't be helped." "I don't care how cold they are, if only we could get enough," grumbled Chet. An almost empty stomach did not tend to put him in good humor. Another day passed, and again it snowed. The flakes were so thick they could not see around them, and so had to halt and go into camp. Their provisions were now so low that only half rations were dealt out. "We can't stand this," cried Chet. "I've got to have something to eat." "Oh, Chet, don't grumble," answered Andy. "We are as bad off as you are." "To-morrow, if we find it necessary, we'll kill off one of the dogs for food," said Barwell Dawson. "That will leave us a team of four, and we ought to be able to get back to where we left the others with those. The sledge has next to nothing on it now." The morning dawned, dull and cheerless. They had a few mouthfuls of food, and then hitched up the dogs once more. Nobody felt like talking, and they started on their long journey in silence. Painfully they covered fifteen miles. Each was footsore and weary to the last degree, and not able to go another step. They sat down on a ridge of ice, and looked at each other. "We have got to have something to eat," declared Chet. "I am going to have one square meal, if I have to die tomorrow!" "Chet!" exclaimed Andy, reprovingly. "We'll kill one of the dogs and eat him," said Barwell Dawson. "It's the only way out of it." CHAPTER XXIX FIGHTING OFF STARVATION Yet to kill off one of the dogs was a serious undertaking, as they well knew. In that country to travel without a dog sledge was all but impossible, and the remaining animals might fail them at any moment. "Let us wait until tomorrow," said Andy. "Something may turn up." "I'd rather have something to eat now," growled Chet. "I will deal out a little pemmican," answered Barwell Dawson, and served each person about five ounces. Then, with increasing slowness, they covered three miles more. Ahead was a little hill, and the explorer thought to climb this and take a look around, to get his bearings. Hardly had he climbed the hill when he uttered a cry, calling the others to him. "There is something to our right," he said. "Some dark object half hidden in the snow." "Perhaps another memento of the Peary expedition," grumbled Chet. "I don't want any more of 'em--I want to get back." "We'll have a look," cried Andy. He turned to his chum. "Come, brace up, Chet, and stop grumbling, that's a good fellow."