The officers retained much of their wonted
health and vigour, partly in consequence, no doubt, of their unwearied
exertions in behalf of others. They changed places with the men at last,
owing to the force of circumstances--ministering to their wants, drawing
water, fetching fuel, and cooking their food--carrying out, in short,
the divine command, "By love serve one another."
During the worst period of their distress a party was formed to go out
upon the floes in search of walruses.
"If we don't get speedy relief," remarked Captain Guy to Tom Singleton
in reference to this party, "some of us will die. I feel certain of
that. Poor Buzzby seems on his last legs, and Mivins is reduced to a
shadow."
The doctor was silent, for the captain's remark was too true.
"You must get up your party at once, and set off after breakfast, Mr.
Bolton," he added, turning to the first mate. "Who can accompany you?"
"There's Peter Grim, sir; he's tough yet, and not much affected by
scurvy. And Mr. Saunders, I think, may--"
"No," interrupted the doctor, "Saunders must not go. He does not look
very ill, and I hope is not, but I don't like some of his symptoms."
"Well, doctor, we can do without him. There's Tom Green and O'Riley.
Nothing seems able to bring down O'Riley. Then there's--"
"There's Fred Ellice," cried Fred himself, joining the group; "I'll go
with you if you'll take me."
"Most happy to have you, sir.
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