Darkness profound at times, and often with it a silence so strange and weird that Steve found himself speaking in a whisper. He was not alone in this, for he found the crew often answered him in a low voice, as if afraid of being heard. For, in spite of all that could be done to cheer them up, the poor fellows were growing very despondent, and even when the shortest day arrived they did not rouse up as the captain had hoped would be the case.
Time had been gliding on so monotonously of late, with nothing to look for but the changes in the moon, that it took Steve quite by surprise when at breakfast the captain cried cheerily:
“The shortest day, my boy! Well, why don’t you look pleased? What are you thinking about?”
“I was thinking,” said Steve as he started out of a reverie, “that it would be the longest night.”
“Well, take it that way, then: the longest night, and the shortest day. To-morrow the sun will have started on the backward journey, so come, cheer up, and—”
They all sprang to their feet, for a terrific report somewhere on high was followed by a crashing roar as of thunder, and with one consent they hurried on deck and out into the snow.
All was silent by then, but a few moments later there was a rushing and crashing sound, evidently on the steep mountain-side, in the direction of the chasm through which they had been in the habit of making their way to the open sea.
“An avalanche of ice and rocks,” said the captain.
“Yes, sir,” said Johannes, as the rushing sound stopped. “The frost must have rent open some big rock, and this started the others in falling.”
Here was something to do.