Bartlett hardly slept, consumed by what he’d need to do next. It would fall on him and at least one other—perhaps two, depending on everyone’s condition—to continue to Siberia, and then to Alaska for help. Wrangel Island might sustain them for a time, but who knew how much game was there? Bartlett understood that in these northern waters, the window for a rescue ship was narrow—six weeks at most, during late summer. After that, the ice would close in again, trapping everyone on the island for another year at least. These thoughts raced through Bartlett’s mind as he lay shivering on the ice
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