“It isn’t at us, sir,” said Johannes. “He hears something ashore. What is it, then, old fellow?”
The dog uttered a sharp bark, and ran to the bulwarks, reared up, and tried to look over.
“There’s something coming over the ice. Hark!”
They listened breathlessly, while the dog uttered a low whine.
“Yes, I can hear it now, sir,” whispered Johannes. “Listen!”
Steve was already listening to a strange whistling noise which sounded as if hundreds of boys were a long way off, making the lashes of as many whips whish through the air together; and this sound came nearer and nearer, till it grew close to them—over, beneath, around—and so strange in the darkness, lit up only by the stars which were gleaming on the ice as well as above, and the lambent rays of the aurora, that Steve felt a curious sensation of dread stealing over him, and he involuntarily crept closer to the Norseman, and whispered:
“It is—something coming from up by the glacier over the ice;” while the sound increased, and sounded so awe-inspiring that the lad could not help a shiver.
Johannes was silent and did not stir.
“Don’t you hear it?” said Steve again. “Shall I get a gun?”
“No; and it is a pity to disturb the captain and doctor. It is not on the ice, sir,” replied Johannes.