On this particular evening, as they lay rolling there, a dense fog had settled down upon the sea, producing the aforesaid darkness; and though this thick gloom was somewhat modified by what seemed to be a dim reflection as of light trying to force its way through, the mist was so dense that the fore part of the vessel was invisible from by the wheel, as the boy stood with the captain and Dr Handscombe waiting for the fog to lift. A man had been sent up to the crow's-nest; but the fog was more dense there than below, and he had descended. "This means ice close by somewhere, eh, Lowe?" said the captain. "Yes, sir; I've been listening for it, but my ear is not keen enough to pierce this fog. Hullo! what's the matter with the dog?" For just then the big collie began to whine and sniff about uneasily, making little snaps in the air. "His nose is sharper than your ears, then," said the doctor. "He smells something. Can it be the land?" "No; we must be fifty or sixty miles from the nearest land," said the captain, and the dog barked sharply. "What is it, Skeny?" cried Steve, stooping and patting the animal's shaggy neck; "what is it, old fellow?" The dog looked up at him sharply, barked again, and ran forward to scramble up on the bowsprit, where he barked loudly, sniffing uneasily in the intervals. Two of the Norwegian sailors were forward keeping as sharp a look-out as was possible for the mist; and as Steve followed the dog he was sensible of a peculiar feeling of chill, as if an icy breath was blowing over him. Then the dog barked again a perfect volley, and in an instant Steve felt his heart stand still, for there was a whirring rush, which rose into quite a roar, mingled with the flapping and beating of wings, and the dog grew almost frantic. "What is it?" whispered Steve in awe-stricken tones. "Sea-birds," said one of the men, calmly enough. "A big field of ice is floating by." He had hardly spoken before there was a heavy thud against the ship's bows, another, and then a heavy thrusting blow which made her quiver from stem to stern and careen over, while above where they stood there was the gleam of ice, a huge mass standing five or six feet above the bulwarks, against which it kept scraping and rubbing and careening the vessel over more and more. The captain shouted an order to the man at the wheel, and he rammed down the rudder, but there was hardly a breath of air, and the ship had no way on. Then running forward, Captain Marsham shouted to the men to seize hitchers, sweeps, anything, to try and thrust off the vessel from the ice-floe, but all in vain. Vessel and ice continued to grind slowly together, the ship yielding to the mighty pressure of the floe; and as every one had now rushed on deck, it seemed as if the next thing would be to lower the boats and escape before the ice rode right over the _Hvalross_ and sank her in the icy depths.