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"Wall, it's this, Mister Ned. The sea-water bein' warmer than the ice, melts the glasheer when thar's high-tide, an' the eend of it dips under; then at low tide, bein', so to speak, undermined, an' not havin' the water to rest on, it naterally sags down by its own weight, an' snaps off, ez ye'll all easily understan'."
"Wall, Captin', ef yon glasheer war to give off a berg, any sort of a big 'un, it mout be the means o' leavin' us 'ithout any boat at all." "But how?" "How? Why, by swampin' or smashin' the only one we've got, the which " "Thunder an' airthquakes! See yonder! The very thing we're talkin' 'bout, I vow!" No need for him to explain his words and excited exclamations.
But he is not smoking tranquilly, as is his wont, but in short, quick puffs, while the expression on his features, habitually firm, tells of troubled thought. "What are you gazing at, Chips?" questions Captain Gancy, who has noticed his uneasy look. "At that glasheer, Captin'. The big 'un derect in front of us." "Well, what of it?"
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