And thus the weeks passed. With the rapidly shortening days of November,
cold increased with grim earnestness. Already the snow was gathering
depth in the forest, and on the open spaces it lay frozen and hard, and
the sun now had no strength to soften it. A coating of ice crusted the
beach where the tide rose and fell, and this crackled and snapped as the
waves broke upon it. A strange, smoky vapor lay over the sea, shifting
in the east wind. The sea was "smoking," and was only waiting now, Abel
said, for a calm, to freeze.

Then suddenly one night a great uncanny silence fell upon the world, and
in the morning a gray level plain reached away, where the day before had
been the heaving billows of the bay. The sea was frozen at last, and for
many long months there would be no breaking of waves upon the rocks or
lapping of tides upon the sandy beach. The Frost King, grim and
inexorable, had ascended his throne, and the world, subdued into utter
silence, lay prostrate and submissive at his feet.

Toward noon Jimmy came over, hauling behind him a sled, and upon it his
sleeping bag of caribou skin, to say that Skipper Ed had gone that
morning to his traps and would not return until the following evening,
and Jimmy was to stay at Abel's over night. This was the custom when
Skipper Ed was away, and of course Jimmy was more than welcome with both
Abel and Mrs. Abel, and Bobby was delighted.

When dinner was over Abel, with a long stick, went down to inspect the
ice. He prodded it with the stick, and finding it to his satisfaction
stepped out upon it, and still prodding ahead of him made a wide
circuit. The ice bent as he walked, but sea ice is tough, and may be
perfectly safe though it bends. And so Abel found it, for when he came