It is in moments of exhaustion that men lose all their reserves of
civilization, and such a moment had come. Each man had reached the
breaking-point. Sprague jerked off a mitten, drew his revolver, and
turned it on his steersman. This was a new experience to Kit. He
had never had a gun presented at him in his life. And now, to his
surprise, it seemed to mean nothing at all. It was the most natural
thing in the world.

"If you don't put that gun up," he said, "I'll take it away and rap
you over the knuckles with it."

"If you don't turn the boat around I'll shoot you," Sprague
threatened.

Then Shorty took a hand. He ceased chopping ice and stood up behind
Sprague.

"Go on an' shoot," said Shorty, wiggling the hatchet. "I'm just
aching for a chance to brain you. Go on an' start the festivities."

"This is mutiny," Stine broke in. "You were engaged to obey
orders."

Shorty turned on him.

"Oh, you'll get yours as soon as I finish with your pardner, you
little hog-wallopin' snooper, you."

"Sprague," Kit said, "I'll give you just thirty seconds to put away
that gun and get that oar out."