"Forward, men!"

"What--wh--" began McPherson, sitting upon the ground, looking from one
face to another, bewildered, terrified. Some of the men began to move
off.

"Wait--wait," exclaimed the cripple, "I--I can get along--I--" He rose
to his knees, made, a great effort to regain his footing, and once more
came crashing down upon the ice.

"Forward!"

"But--but--but--_Oh, you're not going to leave me, sir_?"

"Forward!"

"He's been my chum, sir, all through the voyage," said one of the men,
touching his cap to Bennett; "I had just as soon be left with him. I'm
about done myself."

Another joined in:

"I'll stay, too--I can't leave--it's--it's too terrible."

There was a moment's hesitation. Those who had begun to move on halted.
The whole expedition wavered.

Bennett caught the dog-whip from Muck Tu's hand. His voice rang like the
alarm of a trumpet.