flee, yet, not daring, remained crouching there.

"Do you think he saw us?" Marian whispered.

"No. He was snuffing around looking for something to eat."

Marian shivered.

Lucile worked her way about the ice-pile to a point where she could see
through a crack between cakes, then she motioned Marian to join her.
Together they watched the antics of the clumsy white bear.

"My! Isn't it huge!" whispered Marian.

For a time the bear amused himself by knocking rusty ten-gallon
gasoline cans about. At last, seeming to scent something, he began
tearing up a particular garbage pile. Presently a huge rat ran out and
went scurrying away. There followed a lively chase which ended in a
prolonged squeal.

"He got him!" Marian shivered.

The bear had moved out of their view. Cautiously, they turned and made
their way from ice-pile to ice-pile, from the rubbish heap toward camp.

"I hope he doesn't get our scent and follow us," said Lucile. "They
don't usually bother people much, though."

In spite of her belief that the bear would not harm them, Lucile did
not sleep well that night. "You can never tell what a hungry bear
might do," she kept saying over and over to herself.

At last, late in the night, she fell asleep and slept soundly until
morning. When finally she did awake, it was with the feeling that
somehow something had changed.

"Land! Land!" something seemed to be whispering to her. It could have
been nothing short of intuition which gave her this suggestion. They
had been riding on the surface of a gigantic ice-floe. It was,
perhaps, twenty miles wide by a hundred long. There was no sense of
motion. So silent was its sweep, one might imagine oneself to be upon
land; yet, as she crept quickly out of her sleeping-bag, she saw at
once that the motion of the floe was arrested and off to the right she
read the reason. A narrow stretch of rocky shore there cast back the
first rays of the morning sun.

"Marian! Marian!" she called excitedly. "Land! Land! An island!"

There could be no questioning this great good fortune. The one
remaining problem was to reach the shore of that island. They did not
dare to abandon their kiak, sleeping-bag, and scanty supplies, for who
could tell them that this was not a small uninhabited island? They had
traveled many miles with the ice-floe in some direction, perhaps many
directions. Who could say where they were now?

"The ice must be piling close to s