As their vessel lay higher up in the fiord than the islet, they were on the opposite side from the crevice, and could not see from whence the smoke issued. But they saw it in the form of a light cloud hanging over the place. Hund's eyes were fixed upon it, when one of his comrades touched him on the shoulder. Hund started.
"To be sure I do. What else was I looking at?"
"Well, what is it?" inquired the man. "Has your friend got a visitor--come a great way this morning? They say the mountain-sprite travels in mist. If so, it is now going. See, there it sails off--melts away. It is as like common smoke as anything that ever I saw. What say you to taking the boat, and trying again whether there is no place where your friend might not land, and be now making a fire among the birds' nests?"
"Nonsense!" cried Hund. "What became of the skiff, then?"
"True," said the man; and, shaking his head, he passed on, and spoke to the master.
In his own secret mind, the master of the schooner did not quite like his present situation. After hearing the words dropped by his crew, he did not relish being stationed between the bewitched islet and the head of the fiord, where all the residents were, of course, enemies. As there was now a light wind, enough to take his vessel down, he gave orders accordingly.
Slowly, and at some distance, the schooner passed the islet, and all on board crowded together to see what they could see. None saw anything remarkable; but all heard something. There was a faint muffled sound of knocks--blows such as were never heard in a mere haunt of sea-birds. It was evident that the birds were disturbed by it. They rose and fell, made short flights and came back again, fluttered, and sometimes screamed. But if they were quiet for a minute, the knock, knock, was heard again, with great regularity, and every knock went to Hund's heart.
The fact was that, after breakfast, Rolf soon became tired of having nothing to do. The water was so very cold that he deferred till noon the attempt to swim round the islet. He thought he had better try to mend his little craft than do nothing. After collecting from the wood in the cave all the nails that happened to be sticking in it, and all the pieces that were sound enough to patch a boat with, he made a stone serve him for a hammer, straightened his nails upon another stone, and tried to fasten on a piece of wood over a hole. It was discouraging work enough; but it helped to pass the hours till the restless waters reached their highest mark in the cave, when he knew that it was noon, and time for his little expedition.