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Ballantyne, R. M. (Robert Michael), 1825-1894

"The World of Ice"


"Ay, don't hurt it, poor thing! You're squeezin' it too hard!" cried
Amos Parr.
"Squaazing it! no, then, I'm not. Go, avic, an' me blessin' go wid ye."
The big, rough hand opened, and the tiny insect, spreading its gossamer
wings, buzzed away into the bright atmosphere, where it was soon lost to
view.
"Rig up the ice-saws, Mr. Bolton; set all hands at them, and get out the
powder-canisters," cried Captain Guy, coming hastily on deck.
"Ay, ay, sir," responded the mate. "All hands to the ice-saws! Look
alive, boys! Ho! Mr. Saunders! Where's Mr. Saunders?"
"Here 'am," answered the worthy second mate in a quiet voice.
"Oh, you're there! Get up some powder, Mr. Saunders, and a few
canisters."
There was a heartiness in the tone and action with which these orders
were given and obeyed that proved they were possessed of more than
ordinary interest; as, indeed, they were, for the time had now come for
making preparations for cutting the ship out of winter-quarters, and
getting ready to take advantage of any favourable opening in the ice
that might occur.
"Do you hope to effect much?" inquired Captain Ellice of Captain Guy,
who stood at the gangway watching the men as they leaped over the side
and began to cut holes with ice-chisels preparatory to fixing the saws
and powder-canisters.
"Not much," replied the captain; "but a _little_ in these latitudes is
worth fighting hard for, as you are well aware.


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