“Then you got back?”
“Yes, hours ago. The ship came right upon us, nearly running us down. But what a fog!”
“Yes,” said Captain Marsham drily, “what a fog! You seem to have been more fortunate than we were. Save your fish?”
“Oh yes; they’ve got it towing alongside. And you, did you cut yours adrift?”
“No; it is alongside, too.”
All were too tired to make an attack upon the whales that day, and after a good meal the watch was set, and those at liberty sought relief from their weariness in sleep, leaving the ship lying to and with the fires going sufficiently to enable the engineer to get up steam at a very short notice and take the ship out of danger if any came near.
Steve awoke after many hours’ sleep to find that a light breeze had swept away the mist, and that they were lying about ten miles away from the ice, toward which they had partly drifted, partly steamed, during the heavy mist. It was another example of the difficulties of navigation in the north, another of the risks to which sailors are exposed. But now that the trouble had passed it was almost forgotten, the men being eagerly at work cutting up the two whales and transferring their thick blubber to the caldron, from which a clear, sweet oil was soon after being drawn off and emptied into one of the tanks that henceforth would be reserved for this particular kind of oil.
The trouble of the past day was forgotten, and the men were ready to make light of it all, save the Norwegian sailors, who shook their heads when the others laughed and bantered them about getting lost; they knew the reality of the danger better, and said nothing either to make much or light of it.
The rendering down of the bear’s fat and the boiling of the whale blubber into oil rather disgusted Steve; but he contented himself with making a face when the doctor talked about it.
“Must take the rough with the smooth,” he said. “The bear-hunt was very exciting and the whale-fishing grand. I think I shall get Johannes to let me try harpooning.”