“Ay, ay, there it is, sure enough; a brown bear, I believe.”
“Uncle!” exclaimed a gentle voice at this instant, and a light hand fell upon the captain’s shoulder. “How wild! how picturesque! What place is this?”
The speaker was a girl of seventeen, with large brown eyes, a petite but well-rounded figure, and a countenance truly lovely in its purity and expression. From her neck, by a strip of blue ribbon, was suspended a golden harpoon of delicate workmanship, and about four inches in length. It was the gift of the captain—her only living relative—who had presented it to her on the day that he complied with her request to accompany him on his present voyage.
And why did she wish to go to sea?
Firstly, because the bold and handsome Harry Marline had shipped in the Montpelier as boat-steerer and harpooner’s aid. Secondly, because she was much attached to her relative, who, having no children of his own, always had treated his niece with the indulgent fondness of a father.
You might have known this, had you seen the smile that crossed his face as he turned and gazed with admiration upon the crimsoned cheek, and the expressive eyes of the young girl.
“Good-morning, Alice,” he said. “I am glad to see you stirring so early. How did you pass the night?”
“Very well, thank you,” she replied, raising herself upon the tips of her toes, and presenting her lips for a kiss, which was immediately granted. “Very well, indeed; but you have not answered my question. What place is this?”
“It has no particular name that I ever heard of,” replied the captain. “But, you have been long enough at sea, now, Alice, to perceive that I’ve chosen a good place for an anchorage—”
“If it wasn’t for the ice,” interrupted Briggs.