urs, I'd make a sketch of it."

To this outburst of enthusiastic admiration, the mother responds with
but a faint smile. The late danger, from which they have had such a
narrow escape, still gravely affects her spirits; and she dreads its
recurrence, despite all assurances to the contrary. For she knows they
are but founded on hope, and that there may be other tribes of cruel and
hostile savages to be encountered. Even Seagriff still appears
apprehensive, else why should he be looking so anxiously out over the
water? Seated on the trunk of a fallen tree, pipe in mouth, he sends up
wreathing curls of smoke among the branches of the Winter's-bark
overhead. But he is not smoking tranquilly, as is his wont, but in
short, quick puffs, while the expression on his features, habitually
firm, tells of troubled thought.

"What are you gazing at, Chips?" questions Captain Gancy, who has
noticed his uneasy look.

"At that glasheer, Captin'. The big 'un derect in front of us."

"Well, what of it?"

"Tears to me it bulges out beyond the line o' the cliff more'n we mout
like it to. Please let me have a squint at it through the glass. My
eyes aren't wuth much agin the dazzle o' all that ice an' snow."

"By all means. Take the glass, if that will help you," says the
Captain, handing him the binocular, but secretly wondering why he wishes
to examine the glacier so minutely, and what there is in the mass of
blue congelation to be troubled about. But nothing further is said, he
and all the rest remaining silent, so as not to interfere with Seagriffs
observation. Not without apprehension, however, do they await the
result, as the old sealer's words and manner indicate plainly that
something is amiss.

And their waiting is for a short while only. Almost on the instant of
getting the glacier within his field of view, Seagriff cries out, "Jest
as I surspected! The end o' the ice air fur out from the rock,--ten or
fifteen fathoms, I should say!"

"Well, and if it is," rejoins the skipper, "what does that signify to
us?"

"A mighty deal, Captin'. Thet air, surposin' it should snap off _jest
now_. An' sech a thing wouldn't be unusual. I wonder we haven't seed
the like afore now, runnin' past so many glasheers ez we hev. Cewrus,
too, our not comin' acrost a berg yet. I guess the ice's not melted
sufficient for 'em to break away."

But now an appetising odour more agreeable to their nostrils than the
perfume of the fu