Just at this time a bright young gob, Tom Rainey, came forward with an ingenious scheme.  The “sub” carried a sufficient length of steel cable to reach to the farther edge of the ice-floe.  Why, he reasoned, might they not pole this cable beneath the rather loosely-joined ice masses until they reached the open water, then submerge the submarine and, with a capstan, drag it like a hooked trout to the channel.  It was a wild scheme, but the doctor was in a mood for anything.  The crew were set to work at once, cutting holes in the ice-floes here and there and passing the cable from opening to opening.  It was slow and freezing work, but in time the job was done.

When the cable was ready, the Doctor insisted that a sufficient crew be aboard the submarine when she submerged to man her in case she broke loose.  This was, indeed, a hazardous mission, but volunteers were not lacking.  And, with all speed, the trial was made.

The scheme worked better than they had dared to hope.  When the “sub” passed from beneath the ice-floe, the second engineer in his superabundance of joy hazarded a few turns of the disabled shaft.  This set the whole craft vibrating and drove her half-way across the narrow channel.

As the submarine rose to the surface the doctor saw a dark shadow pass over the glass window at the top.  At the same time he felt a slight jar.

“Must have tilted a small cake of ice,” he chuckled.

Then, as he lifted the hatch:  “By Jove!  No, it wasn’t.  It was a skin-boat full of natives!  There they are in the water!  Watch them scramble back into their boat.  If we had a safer power, we’d go to their rescue.  But they’ll be all right.  Now, they’re all aboard.”

That the natives were in a frenzy of fear while in the water, the doctor attributed to their dread of attack by a walrus.  But when they began paddling away at top speed, he opened his eyes in wonder.

“Ah, well!” he said, at last, “who’d marvel at that?  Ships are not in the habit of coming up out of the sea in the Arctic.  And now I wonder—­I just wonder, did they have anything to do with the disappearance of our friend Dave and the engineer?”

When all hands were on board lunch was served.  By the time this was over the submarine had drifted to the solid shore-ice.  She was at once tied up with the aid of ice-anchors, and preparations made for dragging her out of the water.

“But first,” said the Doctor, “let us visit our friends, ‘the bloomin’ ‘eathen,’ as Jarvis styles them.”

It was a strange sight that met their gaze as they entered the village.  Men, women and children, with a wild wail, threw themselves flat on their stomachs, uttering the most melancholy moans that ever came from human lips.  Interspersed with the cries were apparent appeals addressed to the visitors.

“What’s all this rumpus?” the Doctor demanded of Azazruk, the Eskimo.  “Can you understand their jargon?”