They had now to advance with more caution than ever, and several days later came to some open water that looked as if it would bar all further progress. The lead was six or seven hundred feet wide, and ran east and west as far as eye could reach. "Looks as if we were stumped," murmured Chet. "How are we ever going to get across?" A consultation was held, and then Barwell Dawson sent one party of Esquimaux to the eastward, and another to the westward, to look for a crossing place. The Esquimaux were gone for two days, and during that time a fierce snowstorm came up, blotting out the landscape on all sides. It was so cold that the boys could do nothing outside, and were glad enough to crouch in an _igloo_ for warmth. During the snowstorm, more of the dogs became sick, and four of the finest of the animals died. "Something is wrong with them," said Barwell Dawson, and had Dr. Slade make an examination. It was then learned that the dogs had been poisoned by eating tainted seal meat. The meat was inspected, and over a hundred pounds thrown away. When the natives who had been sent out came back, they reported that to the east and the west the lead was wider than ever. "Any smooth, floating ice?" asked Barwell Dawson. Yes, some smooth ice had been seen, and the explorer went out the next day to investigate. As a result some large cakes were floated close to the temporary camp, and these were lashed together with walrus thongs. "What do you intend to do with those?" questioned Professor Jeffer. "I am going to try to get across to the other side," answered Barwell Dawson. "We'll use the flat ice for a ferry." "It's a dangerous piece of business, sir." "I know it. But we must do something," was the firm answer. Two of the Esquimaux agreed to get on the floating cakes of ice, taking with them one of the teams and a sledge. It was no easy matter to induce the dogs to go aboard, as it might be called, and the natives were a good hour getting started. But once afloat, they crossed the lead without serious danger, and then began the task of getting the rest of the expedition over. This took all of that day, and also the next. On one of the trips an Esquimau went overboard, and Dr. Slade also took an icy bath, but both were quickly rescued, and bundled up in clothing that was dry and warm. "There, I am glad we are over that lead!" exclaimed Barwell Dawson, when the last of the men and sledges had crossed. "I trust we don't have any more of the sort to cross." "I am afraid we'll have a great many," answered Professor Jeffer. "Getting to the North Pole is going to be the hardest kind of a struggle." "We'll get there--if we keep our health, and the provisions last," said the explorer, confidently. Once again they turned northward, into that vast region of ice, and snow, and solitude. It was certainly a gigantic undertaking. Would they succeed, or would all their struggles go for naught? CHAPTER XXVI ON A FLOATING MASS OF ICE