The Bradfords followed the walk with the utmost caution, for some of the boards were missing and others were broken, and in the darkness an ankle might be sprained or a leg fractured by one false step. The boys took turns in going ahead, the leader warning those behind of holes and pitfalls.
After proceeding thus gingerly for nearly half a mile and passing several elaborate totem-poles, they found themselves well out of the business portion of the town and in the midst of a collection of tents interspersed with cheap frame structures. Here and there on tents and houses they could dimly distinguish flaming advertisements of museums and various catch-penny shows, but none of them were open at that hour. The board walk seemed to lead no farther, so the three carefully and slowly retraced their steps to the steamer, where a lively scene presented itself.
Three incandescent lights backed by a powerful reflector had been rigged on board to illumine the forward deck and hold, from which freight was being discharged upon the wharf. Captain Roberts informed them that one hundred tons of freight were to be left at Wrangel, and a number of the horses and dogs.
"Ah!" said Roly, "I'm glad some of the horses are to go ashore here. They haven't had a chance to lie down since we left Seattle."
"No," said David; "and I saw two this morning so tired that they went to sleep standing up. Their eyes were shut, and their heads kept drooping, drooping, and then popping up again like Mr. Dobson's when he goes to sleep in church."
Roly laughed. "I only hope," said he, "the poor brutes will have no worse time on the trail."
Just as dawn was breaking over the town, the "Farallon" took advantage of high tide to pass through Wrangel Narrows,—a tortuous channel between low, wooded shores, where the scenery, though of a subdued character, was exceedingly beautiful. A bark and a barkentine were aground in this dangerous passage, though buoys and lighthouses were plentiful; but the steamer emerged safely in due time into broader waters, and the day passed without special incident until evening, when they had passed the latitude of Sitka, the Alaskan capital, on Baranoff Island to the west.
Not long after supper Mr. Bradford and David were reading in the stateroom and Roly was sitting on the iron grating, through which a pleasant warmth arose from the engine-room, when they all heard a bumping sound and felt the steamer tremble. A second later there came another bump. Instantly bells rang and the engine stopped, while Roly jumped from the grating, and running to the bridge peered forward into the darkness. He could see nothing in that direction, nor could Mr. Bradford and David, who were quickly beside him; but the next moment a huge block of ice and several smaller fragments grazed along the steamer's side, and were dimly illuminated by her lights. Then they understood what had happened.
"She's hit one o' them small icebergs out o' Glacier Bay," they heard a man say on the deck below them. "There's many of 'em hereabouts, I'm told, but they ain't big enough to do damage."
"Not if she hits 'em square," said another voice.