“Well, he has only to take lessons from the bears and practise hibernating. But, like them, he would no doubt be very hungry when he awoke.”
“He’s getting out of patience, too; wants something to do. Can’t you rig him up a line, and let him try for a shark?”
“No sharks up here,” said Steve promptly.
“Plenty,” said the captain, looking at Steve with a peculiar smile, which made the lad wince, for it seemed to say to him, “Don’t be so conceited, my lad; you don’t know everything yet.”
“Greenland shark, I think it is called. The Finland people fish for it. I say, Jakobsen, could we catch sharks anywhere hereabouts?”
“I don’t know about here, sir,” said the Norseman gravely. “There are plenty near the Greenland shores.”
“How do you catch them?”
“Oh, easily, sir, with a long line and winch to reel it up quickly. You let down a big hook with plenty of bait on it, right to the bottom, on some bank, about two hundred fathoms down.”
“Yes,” said Steve eagerly. “That’s rather deep, though.”
“Yes, sir; but that’s where the sharks lie.”