sea's trough as if our fishing-sloop were a
fragile shell. Gigantic white-capped waves, like veritable walls, fenced
us in, fore and aft.

This terrible nerve-racking ordeal, with its nameless horrors of
suspense and agony of fear indescribable, continued for more than three
hours, and all the time we were being driven forward at fierce speed.
Then suddenly, as if growing weary of its frantic exertions, the wind
began to lessen its fury and by degrees to die down.

At last we were in a perfect calm. The fog mist had also disappeared,
and before us lay an iceless channel perhaps ten or fifteen miles
wide, with a few icebergs far away to our right, and an intermittent
archipelago of smaller ones to the left.

I watched my father closely, determined to remain silent until he spoke.
Presently he untied the rope from his waist and, without saying a word,
began working the pumps, which fortunately were not damaged, relieving
the sloop of the water it had shipped in the madness of the storm.

He put up the sloop's sails as calmly as if casting a fishing-net, and
then remarked that we were ready for a favoring wind when it came. His
courage and persistence were truly remarkable.

On investigation we found less than one-third of our provisions
remaining, while to our utter dismay, we discovered that our water-casks
had been swept overboard during the violent plungings of our boat.

Two of our water-casks were in the main hold, but both were empty. We
had a fair supply of food, but no fresh water. I realized at once the
awfulness of our position. Presently I was seized with a consuming
thirst. "It is indeed bad," remarked my father. "However, let us dry
our bedraggled clothing, for we are soaked to the skin. Trust to the god
Odin, my son. Do not give up hope."

The sun was beating down slantingly, as if we were in a southern
latitude, instead of in the far Northland. It was swinging around, its
orbit ever visible and rising higher and higher each day, frequently
mist-covered, yet always peering through the lacework of clouds
like some fretful eye of fate, guarding the mysterious Northland and
jealously watching the pranks of man. Far to our right the rays decking
the prisms of icebergs were gorgeous. Their reflections emitted flashes
of garnet, of diamond, of sapphire. A pyrotechnic panorama of countless
colors and shapes, while below could be seen the green-tinted sea, and
above, the purple sky.

PART THREE. BEYO