"Sposum you no want boat-hook, me make draw-knife of him. He steel, I s'pose."

"Yes, Peter. The spike is very fine steel, I believe, as I told the blacksmith I wanted it light and sharp. If you want it you can have it; that is, if you feel sure you can make a knife."

Adrift in the Ice-Fields — Part 103

"Mos' all Ingin make own knife. You never see Ingin knife in store. In old time old men say Ingin make work-knife, war-knife, arrow-head, axe, all ting he want when can't buy. Me make best knife in tribe 'fore me lose arm. Some one must strike for me, an' I turn iron now."

Adrift in the Ice-Fields — Part 103

Going out, he brought in several fragments of hard wood, and the spike or head of the boat-hook. Making a hot fire, he placed the spike therein, and sinking the edge of an axe in one of the decoys, got Regnar to strike for him.

Adrift in the Ice-Fields — Part 103

"Now no strike hard--strike quick and heasy, right that place every time;" and taking the glowing iron from the fire, he laid it on the light anvil.

It was wonderful to see how, like one who uses a trip-hammer, he drew the iron under the rapidly-plied axe, until the round spike was a narrow, thin blade about six inches in length. Then shifting the angle of the iron a little, he directed Regnar how to beat down one side to an edge, and lastly how to curve the flat of the blade a little at the point, or rather end. Then, producing several small pieces of lime and sandstone, found among the earth kept in the boats, for the use of snow-blind gunners, he proceeded to rub down the edge to something like fitness for use.

After this he carefully tempered the blade, and with a penknife cut out a handle, in which he inserted it, lashing the two firmly together with twine made from one of the cod-lines. Long and patient labor with his few pebbles, and the leather of his cowhide boots, brought the _waghon_ at length to a keen, smooth edge; and great was Peter's joy when he again carried at his belt a tool so indispensable to the Indian hunter and workman.

That day, the fourth of their drift, brought little change in their position--the icebergs frozen together, were drifting, if at all, in one vast body. Towards night a north-west wind sprang up, and the thermometer, had the party possessed such an instrument, would probably have registered at least -10°. A watch was kept all night to keep the fire replenished, and all the appliances used to keep out the cold air, and economize heat, scarcely kept the temperature up as high as +32°, the freezing point of water.