"No one can answer that," replied Jack; "a brisk wind may drive it away, a rain would soon finish it, or it may go before colder weather, or it may last several days."
"Meanwhile we can do nothing but drift."
"That's about all we can do any way," was the truthful remark of the sailor; "we'll make the bear last as long as we can."
"I think he will last a good while," observed Rob, with a half-disgusted look at the carcass; "it will do when there's nothing else to be had, but I never can fancy it without cooking."
At that moment they received a startling shock. A peculiar shiver or jar passed through the iceberg, as though from a prodigious blow that was felt through every part—an impossible occurrence.
"What can that mean?" asked the lads, in consternation.
"By the great horned spoon!" was the reply of the frightened Jack; "I hope we won't feel it again."
"But what is it?"
"The berg scraped the bottom of the sea just then. There it goes again!"
A shock, fully as violent as before, went through and through the vast mass of ice. It lasted only a second or two, but the sensations of the party were like those of the housekeeper who wakes in the night, to feel his dwelling swaying under the grasp of the earthquake.