He looked away over the sea, in which the ice masses, in detachments or skirmishing order, were keeping the advance line of the distant, unknown shore. Farther away the ice-clad ocean was rocking undulating in the swell, which was confined by the "pack." The white reflection troubled the lad, the desolation appeared complete; and shutting his ears to exclude the sounds of the slapping ropes, the noise of the sails, the cries of men and birds, Reginald could almost believe that all the prospect was unreal, as in a dream—that he would awake again in his bunk below and recover his senses! Then he took his fingers from his ears. Even then he fancied the whole incident was unreal, even as he turned to speak to the sailor beside him.
[!-- [Pg 57] --]But the look-out man—always on the look-out for "footing"—assured him that all was true and distinct and real. When he had carefully pocketed the "tip," he permitted himself a long look across the ice, muttering something, looking and again muttering.
"Ship ahoy!" he cried suddenly, hailing the deck.
"Where away!" came the response.
"Broad on the starboard beam: lying low on the ice, under the lee of a berg. Looks dismantled."
"Can you make it out?" asked Arthur, when his brother had found him on deck some minutes later.
"No; not likely from here. We are heading for it now, and expect we shall pick her up. Did you like the 'crow's nest'?"
"Not much," replied Arthur. "I didn't like playing 'Cherub aloft.' Felt as if I had a body, and that my wings were making my head giddy!"
"I say, Artie," suggested Reginald, "when we reach the vessel yonder shall we go aboard?"
"Rather!" was the reply. "Listen! what does Esau say? Derelict?—that means stranded or abandoned, doesn't it?"