We rushed across before the ice should open again.

All this day we traveled together, Bartlett's division, Henson's, and mine, constantly crossing narrow lanes of young ice, which had only recently been open water.

During this march we had to cross a lake of young ice some six or seven miles across--so thin that the ice buckled under us as we rushed on at full speed for the other side.

We did our best to make up for the previous day's delay, and when we finally camped on a heavy old floe we had made a good twenty miles.
The entire region through which we had come during the last four marches was full of unpleasant possibilities for the future.

Only too well we knew that violent winds for even a few hours would set the ice all abroad in every direction.