only one thing which saved us from destruction. At the base of the mighty
cliff against which the wind had hurled the car an immense deposit of
snow had collected, and into this we plunged. We were all thrown together
in a heap, the car and the sleds being entangled with the wire ropes.

Fortunately the stout glass windows were not broken, and after we had
struggled to our feet Edmund managed to open the door. Before emerging he
bade us put on our furs, but even with them we found the cold outside all
but unendurable. Yet the natives paid no attention to it. Not one of them
was seriously hurt, although they were firmly attached to the sleds, and
unable to undo their fastenings. We set them loose, and then began
seriously to examine the situation.

Above us towered the vertical precipice disappearing in the whirling
clouds, and the wind drove square against it with the roar of Niagara.
The air was filled with snow and ice dust, and at intervals we could not
see objects three feet away from our noses. Our poor furry companions
huddled together, and being of no use to themselves or us, suffered more
from the noise, and from the terror inspired by the snow than from any
injuries that they had received.

"We've got to get out of this mighty quick," shouted Edward. "Hustle now
and repair ship."

We got to work at once, Juba aiding us a little under Edmund's direction,
and soon we had the sleds out of the tangle and properly attached. Then
we replaced the natives on their seats, and entered the car. Edmund began
to fumble with his apparatus. After some ten minutes' work he said, in an
evasive way, that the damage was not serious enough to prevent the
working of the car, but I thought I caught an expression of extreme