the snow came whizzing past; there was a patter and splash as the
rain came pelting down.

And in the ice one crack after another opened with a noise like
thunder, as though ships of war had been at sea exchanging heavy
salvoes.

But to none of this was the skipper listening.

He stayed up the whole night, until a gray dawn spread over the
sky; but still he did not hear the sound he was waiting for.

At last a singing, monotonous murmur was borne upon the night air,
a rocking, caressing sound as of distant music.

Then the skipper hurried across the rowers' thwarts amidships to
the lofty forecastle where his crew slept. "Turn out," he called
to them, "and take your oars and boat-hooks! The time is almost
come when we shall be free. I hear the roar of open water. I hear
the song of the free waves."

The men left sleeping and came out at once. They posted themselves
along the ship's sides, while the day slowly dawned.

When at last it was light enough for them to see what changes the
night had brought, they found that all the creeks and channels
were open far out to sea, but in the bay where they were frozen in
not a fissure could be seen in the ice, which lay firm and
unbroken.