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"Looks like a bad storm coming up," warned Gillespie. "You should return to the ship as quickly as possible."
"No argument on that score. See you soon."
Pitt slipped the radio back into his pocket, looked over the ice floe to the north, and saw only emptiness. "Where did you leave Cox?"
Suddenly concerned, Northrop sat up and peered across the ice. "He found and entered a crevice in the cliffs. I thought he'd investigate, come out and follow me back."
"I'd better check him out."
Pitt pushed off with his ski poles and traced the footprints in the snow, two sets going, only one returning. The wind was increasing rapidly, the tiny ice particles thickening like a silken veil. Any glare was wiped out and the sun had vanished completely. He could not help but admire the courage of Roxanna Mender. He thought it a miracle she had surviv
ed the terrible cold. He found himself skiing under great icy crags that loomed over him. He had the fleeting impression the great hard mass would topple over him at any time.
He heard a muted shout not far away over the swelling sound of the wind. He stood listening, ears cocked, intent on piercing the barrier of the ice mist.
"Mr. Pitt! Over here!"
At first Pitt could see nothing but the frigid white face of the cliff. Then he caught a vague glimpse of a turquoise smear waving from a black shaft that split the cliff. Pitt dug his ski poles into the ice and pushed toward Cox. He felt like Ronald Colman in Lost Horizon, struggling through the Himalayan blizzard into the tunnel that took him to Shangri-la. One moment he was in the midst of swarming ice particles, the next he was in a dry, quiet, wind-free atmosphere.
He leaned forward on his poles and looked around an ice cave that measured about eight feet wide and tapered to a sharp peak twenty feet above. From the entrance, the gloom transformed from ash white to an ivory blackness. The only flash of color he could see was Cox's cold-weather gear.
"A bad storm is brewing," said Pitt, wagging a thumb through the cave entrance. "We'd best make a run for the ship."
Cox pulled up his goggles, his eyes looking at Pitt strangely. "You want to leave?"
"It's nice and comfy in here, but we can't afford to waste time."
"I thought you were looking for an old ship."
"I thought so, too," Pitt said testily.
Cox held up his gloved hand and unrolled an index finger in the upright position. "Well?"
Pitt looked upward. There, near the peak of the crevice, a small section of a wooden stern section of an old sailing ship was protruding from the ice.
Pitt skied back to Northrop, and together they dragged the three sleds into the ice cave. Pitt also briefed Gillespie on their discovery and assured him that they were comfortably shielded from the foul weather outside the ice cave.
Cox immediately removed the tools and set to work attacking the ice with a hammer and chisel, chopping hand and footholds for a ladder that would lead up to the exposed hull of the entombed ship.
The upper deck had been free of ice when Roxanna and her husband, Captain Bradford Mender, had walked aboard the Madras, but during the passing of fourteen decades, the ice had completely covered over the wreck until the tops of her masts were buried and no longer visible.
"I'm amazed she's so well preserved," remarked Northrop. "I would have guessed she'd have been crushed to toothpicks by now."
"Just goes to show," Pitt said dryly, "glaciologists do err."
"Seriously, this bears further study. The ice cliffs on this part of the coast have built up and not broken off. Most unusual. There must be a good reason for them building higher but not moving outward."
Pitt looked up at Cox, who had chiseled a set of steps leading up to the exposed planks. "How you doing, Ira?"
"The wooden planking is frozen solid and shatters as easy as my grandma's glass eye. Ah should have a hole big enough to snake through in another hour."
"Mind you stay between the ship's timbers or you'll still be hacking next week."
"Ah know well how a ship is constructed, Mr. Pitt," said Cox, acting peeved.
"I stand rebuked," Pitt said amiably. "Put us inside in forty minutes and I'll see Captain Gillespie gives you a blue ribbon for ice carving."
