162 THE WORLD OF ICE.

“Sleep!” eried West frantically ; « youll die, sir, if
you don’t rouse up.—Hallo! Meetuck ! O'Riley ! help!
here.”

“YT tell you,” murmured Fred faintly, “I want to
ah! I see; is the

 

sleep—only a moment or two
hut finished? Well, well, go, leave me. I'll follow—
in—a—"

His voice died away again, just as Meetuck and
O'Riley came running up. The instant the former saw
how matters stood, he raised Fred in his powerful arms,
set him on his feet, and shook him with such vigour
that it seemed as if every bone in his body must be
forced out of joint.

“What mane ye by that, ye blubber-bag ?” eried
the Irishman wrathfully, doubling his mittened fists
and advancing in a threatening manner towards the
Esquimau; but seeing that the savage paid not the
least attention to him, and kept on shakine Fred
violently with a good-humoured smile on his coun-
tenance, he wisely desisted from interfering.

In a few minutes Fred was able to stand and look
about him with a stupid expression, and immediately
the Esquimau dragged and pushed and shook him
along towards the snow-hut, into which he was finally
thrust, though with some trouble, in consequence of
the lowness of the tunnel. Here, by means of rubbing
and chafing, with a little more buffeting, he was
restored to some degree of heat, on seeing which,
Mectuck uttered a quiet grunt and immediately set

about preparing supper.