f eager
satisfaction changed to one that was very solemn and grave: "It is a
cross, Steve," he said.

"Yes, a great wooden cross. Don't you think they set it up there as a
signal?"

"I think some one set it up there as a sign, my boy," said Captain
Marsham gravely.

"And that some one is living there?" cried Steve.

The captain did not answer, but changed the direction of the glass.

"Yes," he said; "there is the pack, fast for another month, unless we
have a storm to break it up. We'll go on a mile or two, and then turn
back. Come along down."

He began to descend at once, and Steve followed, wondering at his
manner, and feeling sad now; for he concluded that, from his experience
and knowledge of such matters, the captain felt that they had reached
Spitzbergen too late to save their friends alive.

As soon as the deck was reached orders were given to increase the speed
a little, Johannes joining the captain on the bridge to keep a careful
look-out for danger where there was none, for the water was perfectly
clear of rocks and deep right up to the cliffs; so that a quarter of an
hour later they were abreast of the cross, a boat was lowered, and
Captain Marsham was rowed ashore.

Steve was the first to leap upon the rocks, and then the little party
made their way up a slope to the level patch on which stood the rough
sign, and, in addition, two more, which had not been perceived till they
were close up; while of greater interest still, close under the
perpendicular black cliff, some four or five hundred feet high, was a
low, square, wooden hut, built up of old ship's timbers. They made at
once for this, leaving the singularly shaped wooden crosses; and once
more a feeling of awe crept over Steve, and he whispered to the captain
asking him if he thought it was their friends.

"Oh no," was the quick reply. "Didn't you understand? The remains of
some Russian party. The crosses told that."

Steve felt relieved, and curiosity had begun to take the place of the
shrinking sensation he had felt on seeing that the woodwork was grey and
mossy, much of it greatly decayed, and that the rough door had fallen
away from its hinges and lay across the opening which it had been used
to close. The timbers had been caulked with moss, and no doubt had had
snow piled up against them, to keep out the penetrating cold, while the
nearly flat roof was covered with stones.

All this was seen almost at a glance as they paused