The weather had settled. By day the sun shone brilliantly, by night the stars and aurora lighted the heavens. The ice continued to move. The bight was soon quite free from it, and at length the sea itself was so little obstructed that one day Dan announced it quite safe to begin their voyage of exploration to the southward. Preparations for departure had curtailed their hunting hours, but nevertheless they had four full days’ provisions when they broke camp and set sail in their frail craft. The wind was fair, and it was a beautiful, perfect morning. Their hearts were full of hope and expectancy, though they knew much less of the surrounding sea and dismal coast than did Henry Hudson, the great explorer, when he was set adrift upon the same waters by a mutinous crew nearly three hundred years before. CHAPTER X A NARROW ESCAPE “Hurrah!” shouted Paul, as Dan trimmed the sail and it filled with wind. “Hurrah! We’re off!” “I’m hopin’ th’ wind’ll breeze up a bit; an’ she does, we’ll be makin’ fine time,” remarked Dan, pointing the boat for the open sea. “She’s a rare good sailin’ craft.” “Let me take the tiller, Dan. I can handle it, and I want to do something. You manage the sail.” “An’ you wants,” said Dan, surrendering the tiller and settling comfortably amidships. “Head her just outside that p’int o’ land,” he directed. “Isn’t it fine to be moving!” exclaimed Paul. “But the old camping place grew to seem homelike to me. Wasn’t it cozy when we first landed there from the ice, after we got our tent up and a fire started?” “Yes, ’twere wonderful snug an’ fine, but I finds it a rare sight better afloat, an’ s’uthard bound.” “Do you know, Dan, it gives me a sort of scarey feeling to think we’re out here alone in this little boat when there’s not another boat in sight, and likely there isn’t another within hundreds of miles of us, unless it’s the _North Star_; and we know that no one lives on the land. It’s a queer sort of feeling--nothing but a great big wilderness everywhere, and just us in it. But I’m glad to be here. I wonder what there is below that point and over the hill?” “’Tis a wonderful bleak country, I’m thinkin’, an’ I’m wishin’ we were knowin’ where th’ fur traders is, an’ where we’re goin’.” Dan produced his harmonica as he spoke, drew it across his sleeve, and putting it to his lips blew a chord or two. “It’s because we don’t know, I guess, and the uncertainty about it, that makes it interesting to me. I feel like an explorer. It’s simply great to sail along and wonder all the time what we’ll see next, and no way of finding out till we get there. That makes it exciting and romantic.” “I don’t know as ’tis very exciting,” said Dan, removing the harmonica from his lips, “but ’tis a wonderful sight better ’n stayin’ around camp, with winter nigh, an’ ’t would be better yet if th’ ship came cruisin’ along t’ pick us up--which she won’t, as th’ ice sure drove she out.”