ded, or they would have announced it. It was ice,
pack-ice, or floes. He tried to recollect all that he had heard or read
of Arctic voyages, and succeeded only in comprehending his own
ignorance. Of the rapidly changing conditions the commonest sailor
aboard knew more than he. Blind Lund, sniffing to windward, smelled and
heard far more than he could rightfully imagine.

Tamada appeared and announced breakfast.

"You'll be coming later, Rainey?" asked Carlsen. "You and Lund?"

He started for the companionway and the girl followed. As she passed the
wheel Rainey spoke to her:

"I am sorry your father is worse, Miss Simms," he said.

She looked at him with eyes that were filled with sadness, that seemed
liquid with tears bravely held back.

"I am afraid he is dying," she answered in a low voice. "Thank you, for
you sympathy. I--"

She stopped at some slight sound that Rainey did not catch. But he saw
the face of Carlsen framed in the shadow of the companion, his mouth
open in the wolf grin, and the man's eyes were gleaming crimson. He held
up a hand for the girl. She passed down without taking it.

Lund came over to Rainey.

"Clear weather, they tell me?" he said. "That's unusual. Fog off the
Aleutians three hundred an' fifty days of the year, as a rule. Soon as
we sight land, which'll be Unalaska or thereabouts, he'll have the
course changed. There's a considerable fleet of United States revenue
cutters at Unalaska, an' Carlsen won't pull ennything until we're well
west of there. He's pretty cocky this mornin'. Wal, we'll see."

There had always been a certain rollicking good-humor about Lund. This
morning he was grim, his face, with its beak of a nose and aggressive
chin beneath the flaming whiskers, and his whole magnificent body gave
the impression of resolve and repressed action. Rainey fancied
whimsically that he could hear a dynamo purring inside of the giant's
massiveness. He had seen him in open rage when he had first denounced
Honest Simms, but the serious mood was far more impressive.

The big man stepped like a great cat, his head was thrust slightly
forward, his great hands were half open. One forgot his blindness.
Despite the unsightly black lenses, Lund appeared so absolutely prepared
and, in a different way, fully as confident as Carlsen. A certain
audacious assurance seemed to ooze out of him, to permeate his
neighborhood, and a measure of it extended to Rainey.

"We'll sight Makushin first,