"She can't be very far away, sir. If she were, we could not have heard her at all." The men were cheery now, and pulled with a steady stroke, making but little way on account of the heavy load they were towing; but the fact of their hearing the vessel, of which there was no doubt now, inspirited them. "Stop!" said the captain suddenly. "Now, Steve, hail!" As the boy sent forth as loud an ahoy as his lungs would allow there was a dull, smothered wail off astern, very near at hand, evidently, one moment, and the next sounding distant and far away. "Hail again!" cried the captain; and this time Johannes gave forth one of his hoarse, deep roars, the sound seeming to return upon them, but there was no reply. "Hail again, Steve," and the boy shouted; but still without result. Then Johannes sent forth another of his sonorous roars, and all laid on their oars and listened, when, so softly as to be almost imperceptible as the men held their breath, there came a low hail, which grew fainter and fainter and then died away. "That was the _Hvalross_, I'm sure!" cried Steve excitedly, as the boat's course was altered once more. "Yes; and she's hanging about to find us," said the captain. "Cheer up, my lads. She won't go far without trying back; she can't be far away." The men tugged at their oars, but there was no answering cheer; even the great Norseman was silent, while, as Steve settled down in his place once more, he felt as if they were to be left to take their chance on the outskirts of the region of ice, for, after signalling till they were weary, the _Hvalross_ must be steaming right away. CHAPTER THIRTEEN. OCCUPANTS OF THE DEEP. Saddened faces met the gaze of the occupants of the stern sheets, as the men steadily tugged away at their oars hour after hour, with the heavy beluga hanging from its rope behind. Then all at once, when the mist was most dense, the silence perfect, and a feeling coming over all that it would be impossible to go on rowing much longer, every one loosed his oar and joined in a loud cheer; for from quite close at hand--so near, in fact, that the mist swayed with the concussion--there was the dull, heavy roar of a cannon. "The _Hvalross_!" cried Steve. "Yes, our signal-gun," replied the captain. A faint cheer like the distant echo of that from the boat was now heard, the men bent to their oars with renewed vigour, and ten minutes later, guided by shout after shout, the boat suddenly glided under the counter of the vessel. "Why, we thought we had lost you!" cried the doctor, leaning over from the gangway. "Then you got back?" "Yes, hours ago. The ship came right upon us, nearly running us down. But what a fog!" "Yes," said Captain Marsham drily, "what a fog! You seem to have been more fortunate than we were. Save your fish?" "Oh yes; they've got it towing alongside. And you, did you cut yours adrift?" "No; it is alongside, too."