“I thought you said it was beautiful?”
“Yes, at a distance, my lad. But close in: look at it—ice, snow, rocks, everywhere. I suppose we are too early in the summer for anything green and bright to be seen.”
“Here’s Johannes,” said Steve, as the big Norwegian came by. “I say, what shall we find here, Johannes? It looks to be a very bleak spot.”
“Not for a visit, sir,” replied the man. “It is a grand place for game.”
“Game? What game?”
“Reindeer, sir. A good fat buck will be a pleasant addition to the salt and preserved meat.”
“Of course; and what else?”
“A kind of grouse, sir; abundance of wild ducks. Then, for the use of the ship for cargo, there should be an abundance of seals, and no doubt before long we shall encounter the walrus, if other people have not been before us and scared them away. Lastly, sir, I think it very likely that we shall find your friends in one of the sheltered fiords along the coast.”
That was enough. Steve glowed with excitement, and when, later on, the vessel was steered slowly in between a couple of great grim headlands and quitted the heaving sea for still water, his eyes began to search the shore on both sides for a signal-staff or some signs of occupation.
But at the end of half a mile sails had to be lowered, for a barrier of ice extended right across the fiord, and any further search would require to be performed on foot. But no one repined at that. It was delightful after being cooped up on shipboard so long. A boat was lowered, guns and ammunition placed therein, the four Norwegians took their places with the walrus lances, and, very much to Andrew’s disgust, he was not selected to act as gunbearer, Hamish being taken instead.