. Billy Topsail, M. D.; a tale of adventure with Doctor Luke of the Labrador . riving down after Billo Burnt Bays watch. It was too late. The ice caught him. And there was no shaking free. 287 288 BILLY TOPSAIL, M. D. The men on the floe glimpsed the ship—thebulk of the ship and a cloud of smoke; butCapn Saul caught no glimpse of them—a huddleof poor men wrapped in snow and dusk. A blast of the gale canted the Rough andTumble until her bare yards touched the floeand Capn Saul had a hard time to save heralive from the gale. And that was the measureof the wind. It blew a tempest. Rescue? Norescu
. Billy Topsail, M. D.; a tale of adventure with Doctor Luke of the Labrador . riving down after Billo Burnt Bays watch. It was too late. The ice caught him. And there was no shaking free. 287 288 BILLY TOPSAIL, M. D. The men on the floe glimpsed the ship—thebulk of the ship and a cloud of smoke; butCapn Saul caught no glimpse of them—a huddleof poor men wrapped in snow and dusk. A blast of the gale canted the Rough andTumble until her bare yards touched the floeand Capn Saul had a hard time to save heralive from the gale. And that was the measureof the wind. It blew a tempest. Rescue? Norescue. The men knew that. A rescue wouldwalk blind—stray and blow away like must wait for clear weather and dawn. There had been Newfoundlanders in the samehard case before. The men knew what to do. Keep movin I No sleep 1 *Stick together 1 * Nobody lie down I Fetch me a buffet, some o you men, an Igets sleepy. I gives any man leave t beat me. Wheres Tom Land ? Here I is! I say, Tom—Long George gives any manleave t beat un black an blue! And a laugh at LIKE LOST BEASTS Tfii? 0 •^■ / Z^Or- ^STy* LEFT ON THE FLOE 289 Mind the blow-holes ! An a man gets wet, hell freeze solid. ** No sleep I ** Keep movin I They kept moving to keep warm. And eventhey larked. Tag, whilst they could see to chase—and a sad leap-frog. And they wrestled andscuffled until it was black dark and the heartwent out of them all. And then they wandered,with no lee to shelter them—a hundred andseventy-three men, stamping and stumbling inthe wind, clinging to life, hour after hour, andwaiting for the dawn, bitten by frost and nearstifled by snow. It was gnawing cold. Twelvebelow—it was afterwards said. And thats bitterweather. It bit through to the bones and what they wore to withstand it—no great-coats, to hamper the kill, but only jackets andcaps and mitts. The floe was flat and bare to the gale. No-body knows the pitch of the wind. It was a fulltempest. That mu
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