Fred sprang to his feet and quickly told what he had discovered the evening before.
"It was the ocean," he added, with a shake of his head: "I have heard it too often to make a mistake—listen!"
All were silent, but the strained ear could catch no sound like the hollow roar which reached the youth a few hours before.
"I don't care; I was not mistaken," he insisted.
"Why don't we hear it now?" asked Rob, anxious to believe what he said, but unable fully to do so.
"There was no snow falling at the time; the air was clearer then, and what little wind there was must have been in the right direction."
"Where did sound come from?" asked the Esquimau, looking earnestly at Fred and showing deep interest in his words.
"From off yonder," replied the lad, pointing in the proper direction.
"He right—dat so—he hear sea," said Docak, who, to prove the truth of his words, pointed down at the dimly marked trail. It led in the precise course indicated by Fred. In other words, when the Esquimau resumed the journey on the preceding morning, at which time his bearings were correct, he went of a verity directly toward his own home, which was the route now pointed by Fred Warburton.
The others saw the point, and admitted that the declaration of the lad had been proven to be correct beyond question.