The boat had not sunk; she had partially filled with water that had
flowed over the ice on which she had upset; but when the weight of Le
Maitre was removed and O'Shea had regained his balance, the ice rose
again, righting the boat and almost instantly tipping her toward the
other side, for the schooner had by this time caused a jam. It was not
such a jam as must of necessity injure the boat, which was heavily
built; but the fact that she was now half full of water and that there
was only one man to manage her, made his situation precarious. The
danger of O'Shea, however, was hardly noticed by the men on the
schooner, because of the horrible fact that the closing of the bits of
ice together made it improbable that Le Maitre could rise again.
For a moment there was an eager looking at every space of blue water
that was left. If the drowning man could swim, he would surely make for
such an aperture.
"Put your pole down to him where he went in!" The men on the schooner
shouted this to O'Shea.
"Put the rope round your waist!" This last was yelled by the skipper,
perceiving that O'Shea himself was by no means safe.
A rope that had been thrown had a noose, through which O'Shea dashed his
arms; then, seizing the pole, he struck the butt-end between the blocks
of ice where Le Maitre had fallen.
It seemed to Caius that the pole swayed in his hands, as if he were
wrenching it from a hand that had gripped it strongly below; but it
might have been only the grinding of the ice.
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