“No, sir,” came back after a time; “nothing here. Any boat would be stove in directly.”
“What shall you do now?” said the doctor; and Steve listened eagerly for the reply.
“’Bout ship and coast up again, then follow the edge of the ice away to the north and east. But we’ll keep close in, as we know the water is deep. We may, perhaps, find a landing-place which we have missed coming down.”
Another look round was given, and they began to steam north once more.
Chapter Nine.
The Wreck Ashore.
A coast could never have been more eagerly scanned than was that of this island, for every man of the crew was longing for a run ashore in search of some little adventure to break the monotony of the life on board; and again and again, as a seal was seen to slip off the rocks after staring at them for a while with its peculiar, half human countenance, or a flock of sea-birds was passed, the men looked disappointed that no efforts were made to harpoon the one or shoot the other. But as far as landing was concerned, the heavy waves which foamed among the craggy masses thoroughly precluded that, and at last they neared the wreck once more, looking as grim and desolate as ever. Steve had just turned his glass to examine the snow near the top of the volcano where the smoke was issuing, and was wondering why it did not melt, when Jakobsen, the principal harpooner of the Norwegian party, gave a shout and pointed shoreward and forward.
“Yes, what is it?” cried Captain Marsham.