ight wind that sends the frost-lace
scurrying over the ice-blocks, and then falls still again. Our feet
leave great tracks; we can hardly see through the white drift, we are
silent in the wonderful white feathers ... and the silence!

Lars puffs near me, swinging his arms. The Icelander is staring out into
the storm, with his hands thrust into his belt. When at last we rest in
our furs, we are huddled, leaning, against one another for warmth. We
cannot see the sunset; only a dying-out of the pale half-light of the
snow-drift. The men grow superstitious, and begin to talk of robbing
churches, and making no restitution to the widows of killed men; and
they mutter about old days--talking crossly of things we have long
forgotten.

On the third night, Kai, a good man, died; on the fourth night three
other men, on the fifth night, none; on the sixth day we had eaten the
last of our fish, and Rudolf of Schleswig went out into the mist with
his cross-bow to see if he could find anything. So, we lost him, for
though he was a very strong man he never came back. It was on this same
day that one of the men, Hans, a man from the south countries, little
liked, went mad, and became a child again, till he wandered off and I
think killed himself by a fall from a great ice-block, for we saw his
black figure there, and then we heard a sound as of something striking
on the ice; then more men died, I do not know, until old Ole, the
oar-captain, and I only were left strong. The rest ate snow and
wandered off cursing the sacking of churches or prattling nonsense of
house affairs; sometimes they would come back, but I do not know if I
spoke to them, for they were very dim.

It was some time in the light, when, after sitting against the side of
the ship for a few moments I got up to walk again, that I saw come
hopping toward me over the snow a white rabbit with white eyes.

He hops almost to my feet and then jumps into the ship; then comes a
snow-ball rolling itself, of the height of a small man, and when it
comes just before me it breaks into smoke and I cannot see through the
smoke for a moment.

Music--light music, daintily, faintly playing.... It comes from far away
... it is just over my head ... then it tinkles, trills, breaks, and
jingles, and falls down into the inside of my head making darkness. Now
comes a long waste of clouds over the snow-fields, and the ship seems to
rise to them as they billow under her bows.

They come,