“What do you mean?”
“Look yonder,” said the first Norseman, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. “You can see ice, can’t you?”
Steve looked in the direction indicated, and shook his head.
“Nonsense, sir!” said the other. “There’s ice—one, two, three good-sized bits floating this way.”
“I can’t see them,” said Steve sadly. “Your eyes are better than mine.”
“Maybe, sir. We’ve been at sea longer than you. Try again.”
The boy looked, holding on by passing his arm round one of the shrouds, while the mast gave from the pressure of the wind, and produced a peculiar effect, as of swinging, now that his attention was not directed to the work going on.
“Feel all right?” said the first Norseman.
“Yes.”
“Not giddy, sir?”