“Well, Watty, how are you?” whispered Steve.
“She feels petter, chust noo.”
“Keep moving, my lads!” cried the captain cheerily; and he stepped forward.
But not many yards; for there before them, piled-up in mighty masses, was the freshly fallen rock which had come crashing down from on high, and completely blocked up the entrance to the passage-like gorge through which they had been wont to row to the sea.
“Will the water force its way through, Johannes?” said the captain.
“No, sir, never. If it had been ice and solid snow, it would of course in time; but this is all granite rock.”
“Well,” said the captain, “it will be work for us to haul a boat right over the mountain and keep on the other side.”
In due time the word was given, and Andrew went to the front again to strike up some of his gayest lilts; and the men marched back to muster on deck afterwards, glowing with health and exercise, and ready to enjoy a hearty meal.
“Steve, my lad,” cried the captain, as soon as they were in the cabin, “God bless you for this! You’ve started the poor fellows on a fresh lease of life. And done me more good, boy, than ever I did to any one yet.”
“Oh, nonsense!” cried Steve, who felt a choking sensation in his throat.