"After this you had better tie yourself to the bed," was Dave's final remark, and then he turned in again and the light was again extinguished.
But anything more than fitful dozes could not be had. The North Sea is well known for its violent storms during the winter months, and this one proved to be a "corker," as Dave called it afterwards. The waves were lashed into a tremendous fury, and some broke over the steamer's deck with terrific force, one carrying away a twenty-foot section of the forward rail. The high wind was accompanied by a snow that was as fine and hard as salt, and this sifted through every crack the windows and doors afforded.
"No port to-day," said Dave; and he was right. To run close to the Norwegian coast in such a high wind, and with so much snow flying, was dangerous, and they had to remain for twenty-four hours longer at the entrance to Christiania Fjord—fjord being the local name for bay.
But at last the snow stopped coming down and the wind subsided a little, and the steamer headed up the bay to Drobak, located on the east shore of the harbor. Here there was a good deal of floating ice, and plowing among it were vessels of all kinds and sizes, all covered with ice and snow.
"It's wintry enough up here, goodness knows," remarked Roger. "I wonder how far north Christiania is?"
