Seeing her plight, I sent the 'Dudley Docker' back for her and tied the 'James Caird' up to a piece of ice.

The 'Dudley Docker' had to tow the 'Stancomb Wills', and the delay cost us two hours of valuable daylight.

When I had the three boats together again we continued down the lane, and soon saw a wider stretch of water to the west; it appeared to offer us release from the grip of the pack.
At the head of an ice-tongue that nearly closed the gap through which we might enter the open space was a wave-worn berg shaped like some curious antediluvian monster, an icy Cerberus guarding the way.

It had head and eyes and rolled so heavily that it almost overturned.

Its sides dipped deep in the sea, and as it rose again the water seemed to be streaming from its eyes, as though it were weeping at our escape from the clutch of the floes.