The man smiled and pointed upward. "What do you mean? Oh, I see; in the crow's-nest." "Yes, with the captain's spy-glass." Steve had not been aloft since the day when the tub was fixed to the main-mast, and without pausing to think of anything that was said upon that occasion he climbed on to the bulwarks, seized hold of the shrouds, and began to mount slowly and steadily, enjoying the soft breeze blowing by him, and noticing how different the sails looked aloft from what they did from the deck. The main-mast was passed, and he rested in the top for a few minutes to have a look round at the glittering sea, so brilliant now in the clear atmosphere. Then he had a look upward, and began to mount again quietly, and in an easy, effortless way, as if he enjoyed the task. He paused again, holding on by the shrouds as he looked up once more, to see that the Norseman was intent upon something in the distance, resting the large telescope he had taken up on the ring or rail of iron raised above the top of the cask, just at a convenient height for the purpose, and in perfect ignorance of the presence of visitors. Steve smiled as he climbed higher, and paused once more as he reached the stout cross-bars which they had placed that day when the crow's-nest was built. "Ahoy there, Johannes!" he cried. The man gave a violent start, and turned to look over the edge of the cask. "Mr Young!" he cried, "you there?" "Look's like it. I've come to see you. Got any room in your nest?" The Norseman laughed. "Well, I daresay you could creep in. But did the captain give you leave to come aloft?" "No; I only just made up my mind to come. Open the door; I'm coming." "Take care, my lad!" cried the Norseman warningly. "There's no one to catch you if you slip." "I won't slip this time," said Steve merrily; and climbing from the shrouds on to the wooden ladder, he went up from bar to bar till his head and shoulders passed into the cask, and the next minute the hinged bottom fell to again, and he had just room to stand in company with the sailor. "I say, rather a tight fit," said Steve, laughing. "Wouldn't do for two people to quarrel packed together in a barrel like this." "But why have you come up, sir? Did the mate send any message?" "No, I tell you," cried Steve. "I only saw that you were up here, and thought I should like to come up for a chat." "Very good of you, sir," said the man quietly. "Got over the scare of the fog?" "Oh yes, now. It's of no use to worry about things when they're over. It was dangerous, though, wasn't it?" "Very, sir," said the Norseman gravely. "Three poor fellows from our town rowed away from their ship with three Swedish men. They were after walrus. One of those fogs came on, and they were never seen again." "No? What became of them?" Johannes shook his head.