'Well, if ye likes to put it that way. On an' on over sparklin' snow, with the black sea away somew'ere behind, ye don't seem to ken nor care 'ow far, 'cause hevery breath ye breathes is liquid life, an' ye'd raither not look back. There ye sits ye down on a 'ummock an' startles now to find the sea 'as gone. That's the wu'st o' walkin' on the hice, ye walk so far an' never gets tired. Ye doesn't min' bein' alone at fust, but after hours it begins to pall on ye, for the silence is fearsome, an', like the cold, creeps up about the 'eart; the sun won't speak to ye, the snow won't talk, an' the birds 'as flown away.' 'But the sea,' said Lotty, 'the sea, Ben?' 'Just like a whisper o' a far-away wind. But the sea is away, an' ye shades yer eyes to look for it. It's gone, an' yer ship. Only a white mist lies yonder, an' it rolls up an' creeps up slowly but sure, an' ye know the mist means death. At fust ye're frightened, an' wish to run to'ards it an' fling yerself at it as a man does at a ghost. Then ye screams an' wants to run, then ye sees snowflakes a-fallin' at the other side o' ye, an' ye know then ye're in it, an' 'elpless. But something is shuttin' down yer heyelids, an' a sleep an' a dream ye thinks would be very pleasant--especially the dream. It's the dream that does it, the dream that drags ye into death.' 'Into death, Ben? Death in your fairyland?' 'Ay, death, missie, as sure as hever it came to a barn-door fowl, unless they finds ye. Then, missie, the fust-mate brings ye up out o' the dream an' out o' the death with a bally rope's-endin' for leavin' the boat.' * * * * * The ship sailed northwards and north, and King Winter now met the _Nor'lan' Star_ in icy earnest, for they passed through great fields of half-melted snow that took the way quite out of her, and caused the sails to flap, despite the wind, which, however, was none too favourable. Then there was more blue-black polished sea, rendered blacker still when streams of icebergs, mostly snow-clad, met them and bombarded the ship on both sides with deafening noise as they sailed through. But there were bigger pieces, and one was a gigantic white berg with clear, icy sides glittering green and crimson, and on this lay a poor little lost sealkin. Kind-hearted Paterson lowered the dingy after getting the mainsail aback, and Lotty jumped with joy when she was asked if she would like to go. How very large and dark the hull of the _Nor'lan' Star_ appeared as they pulled away from her quarter, and the waves now seemed higher than Lotty could have believed possible! They rose and fell, playing such queer capers, racing the dingy, pretending to poop her, changing their minds, and lifting her sky-high only to hurl her down again into the blackness between two seas! So Lotty had to keep her eyes fixed on the berg and the sleeping sealkin to make sure they were advancing. But when she looked about, the _Nor'lan' Star_ seemed miles away.