night,’ she commented. ‘I like that. Let’s see how brave you are today.’
‘What is it?’ cried Hekja, gesturing towards the monster in the sea.
‘Just an iceberg,’ said Freydis. She gave the laugh that seemed to challenge fog and ice and sea as well. ‘It wants to crush us. We shall see who wins.’ She glanced back at the iceberg as though amused at its challenge.
Suddenly Snarf barked again. It was a sharp sound in the cold air. He pointed with his nose, as he might do at a hare or deer. ‘Arf! Arf!’
Freydis glanced carelessly in the direction his nose pointed. Then suddenly she caught her breath as a new iceberg drifted into view. ‘Thorvard!’ she yelled. ‘To port! To port!’
Thorvard heaved against the rudder. The ship veered. The iceberg passed, so close that if anyone had reached out of the ship, they might have touched it. Hekja heard a faint scraping, underneath the water, where the ice grazed the ship a bit too close.
The ship lurched. But at least it held.
Even Freydis held her breath at that. She let it out again and its steam added to the fog. ‘Well,’ she said. She looked at Snarf with new interest. ‘Do you think he can smell an iceberg?’
Hekja shook her head. ‘We have never seen an iceberg before. He is a good hunter though.’
‘But can he hunt icebergs too?’ Freydis seemed to make up her mind without waiting for an answer. ‘Come,’ she said to Hekja. ‘The dog talks to you, I think. There is no time to teach him to talk to me. Where there are two icebergs there are more, and any one might kill us.’
She strode back to the mast and untied Snarf. Snarf tried to stand, but his legs collapsed beneath him.
Hekja bent and picked him up. He was as long as she was now, so she had to haul his front, while his back legs trailed behind.
Hekja half carried, half dragged him to the prow of the ship. Snarf struggled to get down, but again his back legs collapsed beneath him, so he sat on his haunches, with as much dignity as he could, and stared out at the fog.
Nothing happened. Freydis shrugged. ‘It was just coincidence,’ she said. ‘I’ve never heard of a dog who—’
‘Arf!’ Snarf interrupted her. He pointed again, to the left this time. ‘Arf arf arf!’
‘Far to starboard!’ yelled Freydis. Another great white shape floated through the fog, though at least this was far enough away not to disturb the ship. She grinned at Hekja. ‘It seems it was worth saving him from the sea! A dog who can smell icebergs!’
The others in the boat were staring at them now. Snarf yipped, as though this was a great new game, and sniffed deep into the fog.
‘Arf!’ Snarf barked, and, ‘Arf arf arf!’
Iceberg after iceberg floated by. They were more blue than white, thought Hekja wonderingly, as though each had trapped a little of the sky. Perhaps that was where the sky had gone—it had been swallowed by the icebergs, leaving only the mist to take its place. Eachtime he sensed a new one Snarf warned Thorvard at the helm so he was able to steer away in time.
Hour after hour they sailed through the fog. Hekja found her eyes were closing. She forced them open, and tried to stare into the white. If she slept Snarf might sleep too. ‘Good boy,’ she whispered. ‘Good, brave dog.’
‘Arf,’ said Snarf happily, as though this was a game, like catching cow pats.
Finally Thorvard gave up the helm, and wound his way towards them. ‘Any sign of the other ships?’ Freydis spoke quietly to her husband.
He shook his head. ‘Either we have drifted too far apart, or they were lost in the storm.’
Freydis nodded. Even she did not laugh at that.
Suddenly Snarf stiffened. He howled, a sound of fear and wonder. Freydis glanced at the way that he’d been looking.
‘Iceberg to starboard!’ she yelled. ‘Put your backs into it! Row, you sons of cow barns! Row!’
The men leant against the rudder, so hard it creaked in protest. The ship swerved once again and only