"There is nothing to be done till daylight," pronounced Captain
Barrington, after an examination of the hold had shown that the vessel
was perfectly dry. "The glass indicates fair weather and we'll have to
stay where we are till we get daylight."

Little sleep was had by any aboard that night, and bright and early in
the morning the boys, together with most of the crew, were on deck and
peering over the bow. The day was a glorious one with the temperature
at two below zero. The sun sparkled and flashed on the great ice-reef
on which they had grounded, and which in places raised crested heads
above the greenish surface of the sea.

No water had been taken on in the night, to the great relief of the
captain, and soon a string of gaudy signal flags were set which
notified the Brutus, lying at anchor about a mile away, to stand by.
The hawser had been cast off over night and so the Brutus was free to
steam to any position her captain thought advisable. As soon as the
signalling was completed he heaved anchor and stood for a point about
half-a-mile to the leeward of the Southern Cross, where he came to
anchor once more.

Breakfast, a solid meal as befitted the latitude in which they were,
was hastily despatched and the boys bundled themselves up in polar
clothes and hurried out on deck to see what was going forward. Captain
Barrington, after a short consultation with Captain Hazzard, decided
to order out boat parties to explore the length and depth of the
ice-reef so that he could make plans to free his ship off her prison.

The boys begged to be allowed to accompany one of the boat parties and