“I do not say I think so, my boy. I say it is possible, if—mind if—that is the wreck of the Ice Blink.”
“Of course,” said the doctor encouragingly, as he used his glass. “They may be up one of those gullies in some sheltered spot inland.”
“No,” said the captain decisively; “I doubt very much whether there are any sheltered spots inland. To me it seems as if the whole of the interior is one icy desert. Look at that gully, Handscombe, there to the right. A regular alpine glacier running nearly down to the shore.”
“Yes; but still there may be sheltered valleys.”
“Of course; but it strikes me that if we find our friends it will be somewhere along the narrow stretch of shore. But we’ll see.”
“What are you going to do, sir—land?” cried Steve eagerly.
“Yes, when we can find a landing-place. No boat could get ashore here. We’ll go gently along to the north, and keep a good look-out both for them and a sheltered cove.”
And, giving the necessary orders, the Hvalross began to glide slowly in toward the wreck, with a man in the chains heaving the lead, and always finding deep water till they were quite close in to where the surf beat heavily with its deafening roar upon the rocks.
A boat was in readiness for landing an exploring party, with guns and spears in case of game being met with, or, as the doctor pleasantly put it, a polar bear should come down prepared to make game of them.
Even when close in there was nothing visible about the wreck which indicated its name or the port to which it belonged, and, the course being altered, they steamed along at a safe distance from the rocks, carefully scanning the shore and the cliffs right up to where the ice and snow lay thickly. But there was no sign of human habitation, no signal, no living creature but the sea-birds, which flew about the face of the cliffs in flocks, looking in places as thick as the flakes in a snow-squall, shrieking, whistling, and circling round to gaze down at the strange visitors to their solitude.