He felt a wave of fear pass over him. He shouted with all his might, cupping his hands and casting his voice in the direction he thought the Cambodian had vanished. But had he known it he was sending his appeals in altogether the wrong quarter, for the iceberg was slowly revolving as it lumbered its way south.

“This won’t do. I mustn’t give way,” thought the lad, pluckily striving to overcome his depressing fears.

He felt in his pockets. The tin box in which he was carrying down his midnight lunch for consumption in the Cambodian’s engine room was still there.

“That’s lucky,” thought Raynor, and was still more pleased when he found that its contents, sandwiches and a piece of pie, were not much damaged by water. He began to eat ravenously, in the meantime turning his dilemma over and over in his mind.

“I’m in the steamer track anyhow,” he thought. “I’m bound to be sighted and picked up before long, even if the Cambodian isn’t standing by and waiting for morning.”

But then came the disquieting thought that the iceberg was drifting. He had no means of knowing how fast. But by daylight it might be far south of the steamer track, which is as well marked as any land road, and rarely deviated from by any vessels except sailing craft.

“And just think how little things can grow into big ones,” mused the lad, as he munched his scanty store. “Jack told me not to balance on the rail. If I’d taken his advice instead of laughing at it I wouldn’t be here. I’d be on board the Cambodian. Jove though—” he broke off suddenly, as a new thought struck him,—“maybe the Cambodian was badly ripped by the collision. She may have sunk—and Jack——”

He buried his face in his hands, too much unnerved by all that he had gone through to think any longer. By degrees he regained possession of his faculties, however. He fell once more to revolving his plight. He need not fear death from thirst for he had his knife and could chip off fragments of ice and let them melt in his mouth when he felt so inclined. Food, though, was another consideration. He resolutely set aside two sandwiches and half his wedge of pie for emergencies.

It was still dark and misty and he could see little but the blackly heaving water at his feet and the towering white walls of the berg above him. Suddenly, however, he became aware of a sound, a strange sound to hear in his present position.

It was the 

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