“Is it the silence, I wonder,” said Walt, “that makes one drowsy? I could sleep now.”
“It is the silence, Walt, but not that alone. For we are breathing the purest air in all the wide, wide world. Besides, though we cannot perceive it, the whole of this great island of ice is for ever gently rising and falling on the Antarctic swell.
“But now, boys, what about returning?”
“Sit yet a little longer,” pleaded Charlie. “I like to fancy that we are Crusoes, just we three, or that there is nobody in the world but ourselves and the dogs.”
“Are we going to shoot some specimens of gulls and penguins?” said Walt. “We have our guns. Isn’t it a pity not to use them?”
“No; rather would it be a pity if we did. It is nearly the end of October now, Walt. It is springtime, or almost, in these regions. Why, then, should we disturb the happiness of the feathered race? It seems to me that a curse would follow us in all our cruising if we stained the pure white surface of our first iceberg with the blood of even one of God’s beautiful birds.”
“I fear Gruff has no such romantic scruples,” said Charlie. “For here he comes shuffling down towards us; and with his great chest bedabbled with gore, he does look a very disreputable person indeed.”
Gruff certainly did, and he was rather flustered too, for presently round a neighbouring hummock came Slap-dash himself and a couple of Yak-Yaks.
Gruff was wanted, and didn’t like the idea of going on board just yet.
But more than this, for when the beautiful bear made up his mind not to do a thing, it took a good deal of coaxing to cause him to alter his determination.