Bobby of the Labrador (2024)

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Title: Bobby of the Labrador

Author: Dillon Wallace

Release date: February 2, 2005 [eBook #14882]
Most recently updated: December 19, 2020

Language: English

Credits: Produced by Wallace McLean, Edna Badalian and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team.

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BOBBY OF THE LABRADOR ***


It was plain that retreat was hopelessly cut off

Bobby of the Labrador

BY DILLON WALLACE

AUTHOR OF "THE FUR TRAIL ADVENTURERS," "THE LURE OF THE LABRADOR WILD,""THE WILDERNESS CASTAWAYS," ETC.
ILLUSTRATIONS BY FRANK E. SCHOONOVER
DEDICATED
TO
L.G.H.
WHO KNOWS WHY

If I may call you friend, I wish you this—
No gentle destiny throughout the years;
No soft content, or ease, or unearned bliss
Bereft of heart-ache where no sorrow nears,
But rather rugged trouble for a mate
To mold your soul against the coming blight,
To train you for the ruthless whip of fate
And build your heart up for the bitter fight.
If I may call you friend, I wish you more—
A rare philosophy no man may fake,
To put the game itself beyond the score
And take the tide of life as it may break;
To know the struggle that a man should know
Before he comes through with the winning hit,
And, though you slip before the charging foe,
To love the game too well to ever quit.
GRANTLAND RICE.

CHAPTER
I The Boat That Came Down from the Sea
II The Mystery and Bobby
III Skipper Ed and His Partner
IV Over a Cliff
V The Rescue
VI With Passing Years
VII The Wolf Pack
VIII The Battle
IX The Fishing Places
X A Foolhardy Shot
XI When the Iceberg Turned
XII Adrift on the Open Sea
XIII How the Good and Sure Brought Trouble
XIV Visions in Delirium
XV Marooned in an Arctic Blizzard
XVI A Snug Refuge
XVII Prisoner on a Barren Island
XVIII The Winter of Famine
XIX Off to the Sena
XX Jimmy's Sacrifice
XXI Who Was the Hero?
XXII A Storm and a Catastrophe
XXIII It Was God's Will
XXIV Under the Drifting Snow
XXV A Lonely Journey
XXVI Cast Away on the Ice
XXVII A Struggle for Existence
XXVIII The Ships That Came Down to the Ice
XXIX In Strange Lands
XXX The Mystery Cleared
It was plain that retreat was hopelessly cut off
"Hurry, Jimmy. I can't hang here much longer. I'm getting all numb"
Quick as a flash Bobby raised his gun to his shoulder
They ran by the side of the komatik to keep warm
"I was hunting," explained Bobby. "The ice broke loose and cut Jimmy, and me off from Skipper Ed"

CHAPTER I

THE BOAT THAT CAME DOWN FROM THE SEA

Abel Zachariah was jigging cod. Cod were plentiful, and Abel Zachariahwas happy. It still lacked two hours of mid-day, and already he hadcaught a skiffload of fish and had landed them on Itigailit Island,where his tent was pitched.

Now, as he jigged a little off shore, he could see Mrs. AbelZachariah,the yellow sunshine spread all about her, splitting his morning catch ona rude table at the foot of the sloping rocks. Above her stood thelittle tent that was their summer home, and here and there the bigsledge dogs, now idle and lazy and fat, sprawled blissfully upon therocks enjoying the August morning, for this was their season of rest andplenty.

With a feeling of deep content Abel drew in his line, unhooked aflapping cod, returned the jigger to the water, and, as he resumed themonotonous tightening and slackening of line, turned his eyes again tothe peaceful scene ashore.

Mrs. Abel in this brief interval had left the splitting table and hadascended the sloping rock a little way, where she now stood, shading hereyes with her right hand and gazing intently seaward. Suddenly she begangesticulating wildly, and shouting, and over the water to Abel came thewords:

"Umiak! Umiak!" (A boat! A boat!)

Abel arose deliberately in his skiff, and looking in the direction inwhich Mrs. Abel pointed discovered, coming out of the horizon, a boat,rising and falling upon the swell. It carried no sail, and after carefulscrutiny Abel's sharp eyes could discern no man at the oars. This, then,was the cause of Mrs. Abel's excitement. The boat was unmanned—aderelict upon the broad Atlantic.

A drifting boat is fair booty on the Labrador coast. It is therecognized property of the man who sees it and boards it first. Andshould it be a trap boat he is indeed a fortunate man, for the value ofa trap boat is often greater than a whole season's catch of fish.

So Abel lost no time in hauling in and coiling his jigger line, inadjusting his oars, and in pulling away toward the derelict with all thestrength his strong arms and sinewy body could muster.

Abel had wished for a good sea boat all his life. When the fishingschooners now and again of a foggy night anchored behind ItigailitIsland he never failed to examine the fine big trap boats which theycarried. Sometimes he had ventured to inquire how much salt fish theywould accept in exchange for one. But he had never had enough fish, andhis desire to possess a boat seemed little less likely of fulfilmentthan that of a boy with a dime in his pocket, covetously contemplating agold watch in the shop window.

But here, at last, drifting directly toward him, as though Old Oceanmeant it as a gift, propelled by a gentle breeze and an incoming tide,came a boat that would cost him nothing but the getting. Fortune wassmiling upon Abel Zachariah this fine August morning.

Now and again as he approached the derelict, Abel rested upon his oars,that he might turn about for a moment and feast his eyes upon hisprospective prize, and revel in the pleasure of anticipation about to berealized.

And so, presently, he discovered that the boat was not a trap boat afterall, but a much finer craft than any trap boat he had ever seen. Itslines were much more graceful, it had recently been painted, and, as itrose and fell with the swell, a varnished gunwale glistened in thesunlight. It was fully four fathoms and a half in length, and wasundoubtedly a ship's boat; and, being a ship's boat, was probably builtof hard wood, and therefore vastly superior to the spruce boats of thefishermen.

Abel had fully satisfied himself upon these points before, keenlyexpectant, he at length rowed alongside the derelict. Grasping itsgunwale to steady himself, he was about to step aboard when, with anexclamation of astonishment and horror, he released his hold upon thegunwale and resumed his seat in the skiff.

Stretched in the boat lay the body of a man. In the man's side was agreat gaping wound, and his clothing and the boat were spattered andsmeared with blood. The man was dead. In the fixed, cold stare of hiswide-open eyes was a look of hopeless appeal, and the ghastly terror ofone who had beheld some awful vision.

CHAPTER II

THE MYSTERY AND BOBBY

Abel had often seen death before. He had seen men drowned, men who hadfrozen to death, men accidentally shot to death, and men who had diednaturally and comfortably in their beds. It was, therefore, not thesight of death that startled him, but the horror and tragic appeal inthe dead man's staring eyes. It was uncanny and supernatural.

This, at least, was Abel's first intuitive impression. Though he couldnot have defined this impression or put his thoughts into words, hefelt much as one would feel who had heard a dead man speak.

He pushed his skiff a few yards away and, resting upon his oars, viewedthe derelict from a respectful distance. His impulse was to row back toItigailit Island at once and leave the boat and its ghastly, silentskipper to the mercies of the sea. But the mystery fascinated him. Thebeseeching gaze that had met his had roused his imagination. And so fora long time he sat in silent contemplation of the boat, wondering fromwhence it and the thing it contained had come, and how the man had methis death.

Abel Zachariah was a Christian, but he was also an Eskimo, and he hadinherited the superstitions of untold generations of heathenancestors—superstitions that to him were truths above contradiction. Heheld it as a fact beyond dispute that all unnatural or accidental deathswere brought about by the evil spirits with which his forefathers hadpeopled the sea and the desolate land in which he lived. It was his firmbelief that evil spirits remained to haunt the place where a victim hadbeen lured to violent death, as in the present instance had plainly beenthe case. He had no doubt that the boat was haunted, and therefore hekept his distance, for unless by some subtle and certain charm thespirits could be driven off, none but a foolhardy man would ever ventureto board the derelict, and Abel was not a foolhardy man.

These superstitions seem very foolish to us, no doubt; but, after all,were they one whit more foolish or groundless than the countlesssuperstitions to which many educated and seemingly intelligent Christianpeople of civilization are bound? As, for instance, the superstitionthat where thirteen sit together at table one will die within the year.

And so Abel Zachariah, being a man of caution, held aloof from the boatwhich he had so eagerly set out to salvage; and sitting engrossed incontemplation, he in his skiff and the dead man in the derelict driftedfor a while side by side toward Itigailit Island. And thus he wassitting silent and inactive when suddenly he was startled by the cry ofa child in distress.

Abel for a moment was not at all certain that this was not some wickedplot of the spirits, intended to lure him within their reach, and heseized his oars, determined to increase the distance between himself andpossible danger. But when the cry was repeated, and presently became afrightened wail, Abel hesitated. If it was a spirit that emitted thesucceeding wails it was surely a very corporeal spirit, with welldeveloped lungs and also a very much frightened spirit; and a frightenedspirit could not be dangerous.

Abel had never heard of a spirit that cried like this one, or of aspirit that was frightened, and he rose to his feet that he might lookover the gunwale and into the derelict. From this vantage he beheld thehead of a little child, and he could see, also, that this very realchild, and not the much feared spirits, was the source of the loud andpiteous wails.

The spirit of evil, then, had not tarried after striking down the man.Doubtless God had interposed to save the child, else it, too, would havebeen destroyed, and no spirit of evil could remain where God exerted Hispower. Here was a subtle and potent charm in which Abel Zachariah hadunwavering faith, for, after all, his faith in God was greater than hisfaith in the religion of his fathers. And so, vastly relieved and nolonger afraid, he rowed his skiff alongside the boat, made his painterfast and stepped aboard.

Standing in the forward part of the boat was a little boy, perhaps threeyears of age. He was fair haired and fair skinned and handsome, but as aresult of privations he had suffered he was evidently ill and his cheekswere flushed with fever.

Abel's great, generous heart went out to the child in boundlesssympathy. He forgot the dead man aft. He forgot even the boat. Thecoveted prize of his ambition an hour before, had small importance toAbel now. His one thought was for this distressed little one that Godhad so unexpectedly sent down to him upon the bosom of the sea.

The child ceased crying, and with big blue tear-wet eyes looked withwonder upon his dusky faced deliverer.

"Oksunae" (be strong), said Abel with a reassuring smile, as hestooped and took the little one's hand into his big rough palm.

The child did not understand the word of greeting, but he didunderstand, with the intuition and instinct of little children and dumbcreatures, that Abel was his friend.

Beneath the deck, forward, were blankets, in which the boy had doubtlessbeen sleeping when Abel first looked into the boat and discovered thedead man. Beneath the deck Abel also found among other things, a jugpartly filled with tepid water, a tin cup, and a bag containing a fewbroken fragments of sea biscuits. He gave the child a sip of the waterand selected for it one of the larger fragments of biscuit. Then,patting it affectionately upon the cheek he tenderly tucked it among theblankets, beneath the deck, that it might be sheltered from the breeze.And the little one, content with the ministrations and attentions of hisnew guardian, quietly acquiesced.

Abel was greatly excited by his wonderful discovery, and he was eager tosurprise Mrs. Abel Zachariah and to present to her the fair-skinned boy,and therefore he lost no time in further exploration of the boat.Unafraid now of evil spirits, and disregarding the dead man lying aft,he undid the painter of his skiff and secured it astern, where the skiffwould tow easily. And so, with the mysterious child under the deck athis back, and the mysterious dead man lying in the boat at his feet,and his own skiff trailing behind, Abel, with a strong arm and a stoutheart and a head filled with perplexing questions, rowed the mysteriousboat to the low ledge of rocks that served as a landing place onItigailit Island.

Of course Mrs. Abel Zachariah, keenly interested in his quest of theprize, was there to meet him, and looking into the boat she saw theghastly passenger and was duly shocked.

"The man has been killed!" she exclaimed, stepping backward as thoughafraid the thing would injure her. "It is a boat of evil! Come away fromit! Why did you bring it in from the sea?"

For answer Abel reached beneath the deck, lifted out the child, andstepping ashore placed it in Mrs. Abel's arms.

"A boy," said he. "God sent him to us and he is ours."

Mrs. Abel was taken completely by surprise. For a long moment shelooked into the child's flushed and feverish face, and it looked intoher round and eager face, and smiled its confidence, and from thatinstant she took it to her heart as her own. She pressed it to her bosomwith all the mother love of a good woman, for Mrs. Abel Zachariah,primitive Eskimo though she was, was a good woman, and her heart wassoft and affectionate.

The child was ill and neglected. It was evidently suffering fromexposure and lack of nourishment. Mrs. Abel's instincts told her this ata glance and forgetful of all else, she hurried away with it to thetent. It drank eagerly from the cup of clear cold water which she heldto its lips, and ate as much fresh-caught cod, boiled in sea water, andof her own coarse bread, as she thought well for it.

All the time she fondled the boy and talked to him soothingly in strangeEskimo words which he had never heard before, but which nevertheless heunderstood, for she spoke in the universal accent of the mother to herlittle one. And when he had eaten he nestled snugly in her arms, as hewould have nestled in his own mother's arms, and with his head upon herbosom closed his eyes and sighed in deep content.

Abel when his wife had gone with the child into the tent, anchored theboat of tragedy a little way from shore, that the big wolf dogs prowlingabout might not interfere with the peaceful repose of its silentoccupant. Then rowing ashore in his skiff, he selected a secluded spotupon the island, and dug a grave.

In the rocky soil the grave was necessarily a shallow one, and he hadfinished his task when Mrs. Abel reappeared from the tent to announcethat the boy was sleeping and seemed much better after eating. Thenwhile they sat upon the rocks and ate their own belated dinner of boiledcod and tea, Abel told the story of his discovery.

"What do you suppose killed the man?" Mrs. Abel asked.

"I do not know," said Abel. "It looks like a gunshot wound but I havenot searched for a gun yet. It is a fine boat, and did not belong to aschooner. I never saw a boat like it and I never saw so fine a boatbefore. The man was not a fisherman, either."

"The boy's clothing is finer than any I ever saw," declared Mrs. Abel."It is not like any I ever saw and is finer and prettier than themissionaries' children wear and on one of his fingers there is abeautiful ring."

"I cannot get it through my head where the boat came from," said Abel.

"It was God's messenger, and His way of sending us the boy," assertedMrs. Abel. "He sent the boat with the boy out of the farthest mists ofthe sea, from the place where storms are born, and He sent the boat on aclear day, when we could see it, and He kept you near the boat when youwould have gone away, until the boy cried. God meant that we should havea child."

"Yes," agreed Abel. "It was God's way of giving us a child for our own.But why did He send a man with the boy and a dead man, at that?"

"I do not know," said Mrs. Abel, "but there was some reason, I suppose.The child has a skin so white and its clothes are so fine, I am sure itmust have come from Heaven. We know it came from the Far Beyond, for yousay the man was not a fisherman, and the boat is not a fisherman'sboat."

This was an awe-inspiring solution of the mystery, and Abel and hiswife accepted it with due solemnity. A suggestion of the miraculousappealed to them, for they did not in the least believe that the days ofmiracles were past, as indeed they are not. They had already, with big,hospitable hearts, accepted the child as their own. Now, believing thatit was a gift from Heaven, sent directly to them by God, as a token ofparticular favor, they would not have parted from it for all the richesin the world.

The afternoon was far spent when, at last, Abel, in his skiff, rowed outto the anchored derelict and brought it in again to the landing place.Here a search of the boat discovered, in addition to the blankets whichhad formed the boy's bed, the water jug, the tin cup, and biscuit bag, aquantity of loaded shotgun shells and a double-barreled shotgun. Theshotgun, which had been hidden in the bottom of the boat by the folds ofa sail, called forth an exclamation of delight from Abel. It was amarvel of workmanship, and its stock and lock were beautifully engraved.And with the sail, which would prove useful, was a tarpaulin and aquantity of rope.

In the pockets of the dead man were a jackknife, a small notebook, apiece of pencil, and an empty wallet. Nothing which seemed important,but all of which Abel preserved carefully as a future heritage for theboy.

There were no boards from which to fashion a coffin, so they wrapped theunknown in an old sail, and that evening, when the western sky was aglowwith color buried him in the grave Abel had made. And over the graveAbel read in Eskimo a chapter from the Testament, and said a prayer, andto the doleful accompaniment of lapping waves upon the shore he and Mrs.Abel sang, in Eskimo, one of the old hymns for, as Christians, they mustneeds give the stranger a Christian burial, the only service they couldrender him.

Abel and his wife looked upon the advent of the little boy as a Divineblessing. They firmly believed that God had sent him to them to increasetheir happiness, and they lavished upon him all the love and affectionof their simple hospitable natures. They were deeply solicitous for hishealth, and responding to gentle care the fever quickly left him, for hewas, naturally, a strong and well-developed child.

They understood few words of English, but they soon discovered that theboy called himself "Bobby," and Bobby was accepted as his name. Bobby,on his part, spoke English indifferently, and of all other tongues andespecially the Eskimo tongue, he was wholly ignorant. At that period ofhis life it was quite immaterial to him, indeed, what language he spokeso long as the language served to make his wants known; and he began toacquire an Eskimo vocabulary sufficient for his immediate needs, and hisefforts in this direction afforded his foster parents a vast deal ofpleasure.

Mrs. Abel Zachariah, considering the clothing Bobby wore quite too finefor ordinary use, and unsuited to the climate and the conditions of hisnew surroundings and life, fashioned for him a suit of coarse but warmerfabric. When this was finished to her liking she dressed him in it, andwashed and folded and laid away in a chest the things he had worn, as aprecious souvenir of his coming.

From the skins of Arctic hares, which Abel killed with the wonderfulshotgun, she made him a warm little jacket with a hood; for his feetshe made sealskin moccasins, with legs that reached to his knees, andsewed them with sinew to render them waterproof, that his feet might bekept quite dry when the rocks were wet with rains, or when the firstmoist snows of autumn fell, as they did with the coming of September.And when the great flocks of wild ducks and geese came flying out of theNorth, the feathers of all that Abel shot were carefully hoarded in bagsfor Bobby's winter bed.

And so the weeks passed until early October. The land was now white withsnow, and steadily increasing cold warned them that winter was at handand that presently the bays and sea would be frozen. It was time now forAbel to set his fox traps, and time for them to move to their wintercabin on the mainland.

This cabin was situated at the head of a deep bay which the Eskimos call"Tissiuhaksoak," but which English-speaking folk called "Abel's Bay,"because Abel was the first to build a cabin there; and we, beingEnglish-speaking people, shall also call it Abel's Bay.

The bloody record of the tragedy had long since been washed from theboat. From two of the six long oars with which the boat was fitted, Abelimprovised two masts. The tarpaulin was remodeled into a second sail,and, one blustery morning, with their tent and all their belongingsstowed into the boat, and the dogs in the skiff, which was in tow, theyset sail for Abel's Bay, and left Itigailit Island and the lonely graveto the Arctic blasts that would presently sweep down upon it from theicy seas; and late on the following afternoon they reached the cabinwhich for many years was to be Bobby's home.

Thus it was that Bobby, amid adventure and mystery, made his advent uponThe Labrador and found a home among strange people. And in such a landit was quite plain that as the years passed he should have otheradventures.

CHAPTER III

SKIPPER ED AND HIS PARTNER

On that part of the Labrador coast where Abel Zachariah lived thecabins, with small variation, are fashioned upon one general model. Themodel is well adapted to the needs of the people and the exigencies ofthe climate. At one end of the cabin is an enclosed porch which servesas a woodshed and general storage room. Here the dog harness, traps, andother tools and equipment necessary to the hunter's life are kept.

A door opens from the enclosed porch into the cabin proper, whichusually consists of a single room which serves as living room, diningroom, kitchen and bedroom. This room commonly has two windows, one oneither side.

The floor of the cabin is of uncovered planks. In the center stands astove shaped like a large box. In the lower half of this stove is thefire space, adapted to receive huge blocks of wood. The upper half is anoven.

Against the wall, and not far from the stove, the table stands, andbuilt against the wall at one side of the door, the kitchen closet. Inthe farther end of the room are the family beds, usually built into thecabin after the fashion of ships' bunks. In Abel's cabin there was butone bed, and this of ample breadth to accommodate two. Now there was tobe another for Bobby.

Home-made chests, which answer the double purpose of storage places forclothing and whatnot and seats, take the place of chairs, thoughsometimes there are rude home-made chairs and Abel's cabin containedtwo. Guns always loaded and within reach for instant use, rest upon lowoverhead beams, or upon pegs against the wall. On a shelf, at someconvenient place, and specially built for their accommodation, the Bibleand hymnal are kept. Abel's Bible and hymnal, as in all ChristianizedEskimo houses, were printed in the Eskimo language.

This, then, was the kind of home that Bobby entered, and which, as theyears passed, he was to love, for it was a haven of affection.

The cabin was cold and damp and stuffy now, and filled with unpleasantodors, for it had been unoccupied since early in July. But soon Abel hada roaring fire in the stove, and the things in from the boat, and Mrs.Abel had the room aired, and before the candle was lighted the room hadtaken on the cozy comfort of occupancy.

Then there was supper of stewed duck and hot dough-bread and tea. WhenBobby had eaten heartily and his eyes grew heavy with sleep he wasundressed and tucked away into bed, with Mrs. Abel lying by his side fora little, crooning an Eskimo lullaby before she washed her dishes. Andat length, when the dishes were washed, and all was made snug for thenight, Abel took down, as was his custom, the Bible, and read by theflickering light, and he and Mrs. Abel sang a hymn, and knelt in familydevotion, before they joined the sleeping Bobby in their bed.

Abel Zachariah's nearest neighbor was Edward Norman, commonly known asSkipper Ed, a sailor-man who had come to the coast many years before ina fishing vessel, and when his vessel sailed away Skipper Ed hadremained behind to cast his lot with the Eskimos. At the head of Abel'sbay and a mile from Abel's home, he took up the life of hunter andfisherman, and in due time learned to speak the Eskimo language. HereSkipper Ed lived with his little partner, as he called him—JimmySanderson, a husky lad of seven years.

Jimmy was an orphan. His mother died when he was so young that he couldscarcely remember her at all. His father, a Newfoundland sailor andfisherman, was one of the crew of a fishing schooner that sailedregularly each summer to this part of the Labrador coast, and becausethere was no one at home to care for him after his mother's death, Jimmyalways accompanied his father on these voyages. And thus it came aboutthat when Seaman Sanderson fell overboard while reefing the jib, onestormy day, Jimmy was left alone in the world.

It so happened that on the day Jimmy's father was lost, the schooner,with the forlorn little boy on board, took refuge under the lee of theisland upon which Skipper Ed had his fishing camp. Skipper Ed, after themanner of the Coast, rowed his boat alongside and climbed aboard, tohear such scraps of news from the outside world as the sailors mightbring, and to enjoy their company for an hour. Here he met Jimmy,heartbroken and weeping at the loss of his father. Skipper Ed'ssympathies went out to the wretched little boy, and placing his big handon Jimmy's small shoulder, he comforted him.

"There, there, now, lad, don't cry," said he. "You're a wee bit of a ladto be left alone in the world I know, but by the mercy of God you'llforget your trouble, for Time's a wonderful healer. And there's betterluck coming, lad, better luck coming."

Thereupon he sought out the Captain of the schooner and inquired intoJimmy's worldly prospects.

"There's none to care for him," said the Captain, "and the bestprospects he have be the poor house."

"Will you leave him with me, then?" asked Skipper Ed. "I'll give the lada good home, and teach him a bit, and he'll be fine company for me."

"O' course I'll leave he with you, Skipper, and wonderful glad I'll betoo that the lad's found a good home," said the Captain.

Then Skipper Ed returned to Jimmy.

"Lad," said he, "I'm looking for a partner, and it strikes me you'lldo. How'd you like to be my partner? Look me over now, and see whatyou think of me. How'd you like me for a partner?"

Jimmy looked him over critically, through tear-stained eyes, but saidnothing.

"Come now," urged Skipper Ed, getting down on his haunches that Jimmymight look straight into his face, "here we are, you and I, both alonein the world and both wanting partners. Can't we splice up apartnership? Share and share alike, you know—you have as much as I, andI have as much as you, and we'll take the fair winds and the contrarywinds together, and make port together, and sell our cargoes together,and use the same slop chest. What do you say, lad? Shall we sign on aspartners?"

"Yes, sir," agreed Jimmy.

"Good! Good!" exclaimed Skipper Ed. "Here, shake hands on it, partner.Now we're friends to each other, whatever falls, good voyages and poorones, and there's better luck coming for us both, lad, better luck."

And so Skipper Ed and Jimmy Sanderson formed their partnership, andJimmy, with his own and his father's kits, went ashore with Skipper Edin Skipper Ed's boat, which he insisted was half Jimmy's, under theirpartnership agreement, and the next day the schooner sailed away andleft them. And with the passing weeks, Time, as Skipper Ed hadpredicted, and as he always does, healed Jimmy's sorrow, and he came tolook upon Skipper Ed as the finest man and the finest partner in theworld, and they two loved each other very much.

Abel and his wife and Skipper Ed and his partner lived upon terms ofintimacy and good comradeship, as neighbors should. And because they hadno nearer neighbors than Abraham Moses, an Eskimo ten miles to thesouthward, and the people of the Moravian Mission and Eskimo settlementat Nain, twenty miles to the northward, the two families were dependentupon one another for human companionship, and therefore the bond offriendship that drew them together was the stronger.

And so it happened that early on the morning following the return ofAbel and Mrs. Abel with Bobby, Skipper Ed and Jimmy walked over towelcome their neighbors home, and to discuss with them the fishingseason just closed, and the seal hunting and the trapping seasons whichwere at hand.

Abel was engaged in cutting and shaping the sticks from which he was tobuild Bobby's little bunk, when he heard Skipper Ed's cheery:

"Oksunae!"[A]

"Oksutingal!"[A] exclaimed Abel, delightedly, grasping Skipper Ed'shand and then Jimmy's hand and laughing with pleasure. "Oksutingai! Iam glad to see you, and how have you been?"

Abel spoke his native language, for his tongue was awkward with the fewEnglish words he had learned. He and Skipper Ed, indeed, alwaysconversed in Eskimo, and Jimmy, though he usually spoke his nativeEnglish at home when he and Skipper Ed were alone, also understood theEskimo tongue perfectly.

"We're very well," said Skipper Ed, "and glad to know you are back. Wewere lonely without you. How is Mrs. Abel?"

"Well. Very well. And we have something to surprise you," and Abel,laughing heartily, could hardly contain himself.

"I know what it is!" broke in Jimmy. "You've got a new boat. I saw it aswe came up! It's a fine big boat, too!"

"It's a greater surprise than that," laughed Abel. "It's in the house.Come in and see him."

"A baby!" guessed the delighted Jimmy. "It's a baby!"

"Come in and see for yourselves," Abel invited, and pushing the dooropen he led them into the cabin, where Mrs. Abel overwhelmed them withgreeting, and brought Bobby forth for introduction.

"A boy, and a white one!" exclaimed Skipper Ed in English. "Nowwherever did they get him?" He took Bobby by the hand, and asked: "Canyou talk, little lad?"

"Yeth, thir," Bobby admitted, respectfully, "I like to talk."

"I'll wager you do, now! Where did you live before you came here?"

"With Papa and Mamma."

"What, now, may your name be?"

"Bobby, thir."

"What is your papa's name?"

"What is my papa's name?"

"Yes, what is your papa's name?"

"Why, 'Papa,'" in great surprise that all the world did not know that.

Further solicitation brought from the child the statement that "UncleRobert took me for a nice ride in a boat, but Uncle Robert got hurted,and I came here."

And this was the sum total of the information concerning Bobby's pastthat Skipper Ed succeeded in drawing from the child, though hequestioned and cross-questioned him at length, after Abel and Mrs. Abelhad told how they found him that August morning. But Abel and Mrs. Abel,considering these things of small importance, did not mention to orshow Skipper Ed the packet containing the notebook found in the deadman's pocket, and which they had carefully put away.

Skipper Ed did not altogether accept the theory of Abel and Mrs. Abelthat God had in a miraculous manner sent Bobby to them from heaven,directing his course from the Far Beyond, through the place where mistsand storms were born. Skipper Ed in his own mind could not dismiss thesubject in this casual manner. He scented some dark mystery, though hedoubted if the mystery would ever be cleared.

Abel must needs exhibit to Skipper Ed and Jimmy the boat, and whenSkipper Ed saw it his practiced eye told him that the finish andworkmanship were far too fine and expensive for any ordinary ship'sboat, and that it was the long boat of a luxuriously appointed privateyacht. Of this he was well assured when he read, in gold letters oneither side of its prow, the name Wanderer.

And then they must each try their hand with the beautifully engravedshotgun. Such a gun, Abel declared, had never before been seen on thecoast, and was in itself a fortune. And Skipper Ed examined itcritically, and agreed with Abel that it was a gun of marvelousworkmanship, and had cost much money.

"None but God could have fashioned it," said Abel, reverently. "It isHis gift to the boy, and it will always be the boy's. He sent it withthe boy from the Great Beyond, from the place where mists and storms areborn. Do you think He would mind if I used it sometimes?"

"No," answered Skipper Ed, "I think He meant you to use it to hunt foodfor the boy, so that the boy should never be in want. God never forgets.He always provides. Destiny is the Almighty's will, and He provides."

"The lad has come from rich people," said Skipper Ed, as he and Jimmywalked home that evening. "He's not been used to this sort of life. ButTime's a great healer. He's young enough to forget the fine things he'sbeen used to, and he'll grow up a hunter and a fisherman like the restof us. There's better luck coming for him. Better luck. He'll be happyand contented, for people are always happy with simple living, so longas they don't know about any other kind of living."

"I thinks Abel lives fine now, and we lives fine," ventured Jimmy."Abel's house is fine and warm, and so is ours."

"Aye," said Skipper Ed, "'tis that. 'Tis that; and enough's a-plenty.Enough's a-plenty."

They walked along in silence for a little while.

"We must always talk to the little chap in English," said Skipper Ed,presently. "We must not let him forget to speak the tongue his mothertaught him."

"Yes, sir," agreed Jimmy.

"And we must teach him to read and write in English, the way I teachyou," continued Skipper Ed. "Somewhere in the world his mother andfather are grieving their life out for the loss of him. It's very likethey'll never see him again, but we must teach him as much as we knowhow of what they would have taught him."

"Yes, sir."

"Destiny is just the working out of the Almighty's will. And it was apart of the lad's destiny to be cast upon this bleak coast and to find ahome with the Eskimos."

And so, walking home along the rocky shore, they talked to theaccompaniment of lapping waves upon the shore and soughing spruce treesin the forest.

Skipper Ed, giving voice to thoughts with which he was deeply engrossed,told of the kindlier, sunnier land from which Bobby had been sentadrift—from a home of luxury, perhaps—to live upon bounty, and in thecrude, primitive cabin of an Eskimo. And he thrilled his little partnerwith vivid descriptions of great cities where people were so numerousthey jostled one another, and did not know each other's names; ofrushing, shrieking locomotives; of beautiful houses which seemed toJimmy no less than fairy palaces; of great green fields; and yellowfields of waving grain from which the flour was made which they ate; ofglorious flowers; and forests of strange trees.

They reached their cabin at last, which stood in the shelter of thetrees at the edge of the great wilderness, and looked out over the bay;and at the porch door Skipper Ed paused, and, gazing for a moment at thestretch of heaving water, stretched his arms before him and said:

"It's out there, Partner—the land I've told you about—out there beyondthe sea—the land I came from and the land Bobby came from—and the landyou came from, too, for that matter. Some time you may sail away to seeit."

In outward appearance Skipper Ed's cabin was almost the counterpart ofAbel's, but within it was fitted much more completely and tastefully. Onthe well-scrubbed floor were rugs of dog and wolf skins, and there werethree big armchairs—one for Skipper Ed, one for his partner, and onefor Abel when he came to see them—and a rocker for Mrs. Abel when shecalled; all home-made and upholstered in buckskin. And there were fourstraight-backed dining chairs, and against the wall some shelves wellfilled with books, as well as many other conveniences and comforts andrefinements not usual in the cabins of the coast. There was lacking,also, the heavy, fishy odor of seal oil, never absent from the Eskimohome, for Skipper Ed had provided a log outhouse, a little apart fromhis cabin, as a storehouse for seal oil and fish and pelts.

Dusk was settling. Skipper Ed lighted candles and kindled a fire in thestove, and he and Jimmy together set about preparing supper. The windwas rising and soon snow began to beat against the window pane, and whensupper was eaten and the table cleared, and the two drew their armchairsup before the fire, it was very cozy sitting there and listening to thehowling storm outside and the roaring fire in the stove. Jimmy, snuglycurled in his chair, was so still that Skipper Ed, silently smoking hispipe, believed his little partner asleep, when he was startled out ofhis musings by the request:

"Partner, tell me a story."

"A story, Partner? What kind of a story? One about the sea?"

"A story about people that live out there in the country Bobby camefrom, and you came from."

"Oh, out there! Yes, to be sure!" Skipper Ed sat silent for a fewmoments, gazing at the flickering light through a crack in the stovedoor, while Jimmy sat expectant, gazing into Skipper Ed's face. At lasthe began:

"Once there were two boys who lived in a fine big house, for theirfather was rich. The house was in a town, and it had a great many rooms.In front of it was a beautiful green lawn, over which were scatteredtrees and bushes that bore flowers, and behind the house was a largegarden where delicious fruits and vegetables grew, and where there werebeautiful beds of bright flowers. Under the shady trees of this gardenwas a favorite playground of the boys."

"What were the names of the boys?" interrupted Jimmy.

"We'll call them Tom and Bill, though these may not have been their realnames," explained Skipper Ed. "Tom and Bill are easy names to remember,though, don't you think so?"

"Yes, Partner, they're fine names, and easy to remember."

"Tom was two years older than Bill, and they were great chums. They notonly played together but they got into mischief together, and went toschool together, until Tom went to college. When they got into mischieftogether Tom, somehow, usually managed to escape punishment, for he wasa much keener lad than Bill, and Bill, on his part, seldom failed toreceive his full share of punishment."

"That weren't fair!" broke in Jimmy. "'Tweren't honest for Tom to letBill get all the punishment!"

"He didn't mean to be dishonest, I'm sure," said Skipper Ed.

"But 'tweren't honest," insisted Jimmy.

"As I was saying," continued Skipper Ed, "Tom went to college and madenew friends, and when Bill followed him to college two years later thelads saw little of each other. Tom was a brilliant fellow, and everyoneliked him. He had a host of friends among the students. Bill, on theother hand, was not in the least brilliant, and he had to work hard toget his lessons, and they went with different crowds of fellows.

"Their father, as I told you, was rich, and he was also indulgent. Hegave the boys a larger allowance of spending money than was good forthem. There was never a month, however, that Tom did not go to Bill andborrow some of his, and even then Tom was always in debt. Bill knew itwas the gay company Tom kept, and warned him against it, but Tom wouldlaugh it off and say that a fellow in the upper classes had to keep uphis end, as Bill would learn later.

"What Bill did learn later was that Tom had become an inveterategambler, and had lost his money at cards, and went away from collegeleaving many debts unpaid.

"The father of the boys was a manufacturer, and was also president ofthe bank in the little city where they lived. A bank is a place whereother people's money is kept for them, and whenever the people who keepmoney there need any, they come and get what they need. When Tom leftcollege he was taken into the bank, and before Bill's graduation hadbeen advanced to the position of cashier, and had married a very fineyoung woman. The cashier is the man that has charge of the money in thebank.

"It was thought best also for Bill to enter the bank, which he did a fewmonths after his return from college, as assistant to his brother.

"Things went on very well until, one day, a man came to examine the bankand to see if all the money was safely there, and the examiner, as theman was called, discovered a shortage. That is, there was not as muchmoney in the bank as there should have been. The shortage lay betweenthe two brothers. Tom, in terrible distress, admitted to Bill that hehad 'just borrowed' the money to invest in stocks—which is a waypeople speak of one kind of gambling—but that the investment hadfailed, and he had lost it.

"You do not know, Partner, what stocks are, but I'll tell you some othertime.

"When this happened Tom had a little baby boy at home, about two monthsold. Bill loved his brother, and he loved his brother's baby very much.

"'Tom,' said Bill, 'I've always stood by you since we were little boysand played in the garden together, and I'm going to stand by you now. Ifthe loss is laid to you it will ruin not only your life but the lives ofyour wife and your baby. I'll say that I took the money and you must notsay I did not.'

"'No,' said Tom, 'I can't let you do that! It's too much! It's too big asacrifice!'

"'Yes, you will,' said Bill. 'It will likely ruin my life, I know, butI'm only one. If it's laid on you, three lives will be ruined. Justpromise me you'll live straight after this, and never gamble again.'

"Tom promised, and Bill was sure he meant it, and when their father, whohad been sent for by the examiner, arrived at the bank, Bill, as agreed,told his father he had taken the money.

"Of course there was a terrible scene. Bill was not arrested for hisfather did not wish the family disgraced, but he was driven from home,with very little money in his pocket, and told never to return again.His mother and little sister—I forgot to tell you the boys had a littlesister, who was ten years old at that time—nearly broke their hearts athis going. But his father was very harsh, and told him if he ever cameback he would have him arrested and put into prison. It was not the lossof the money which angered him. That was a comparatively small amount,which he paid back to the bank and did not miss very much. It was thethought that one of his boys had taken it."

"What was the little sister's name?" asked Jimmy.

"Well, let me see," said Skipper Ed. "We'll call her Mary."

"Did Bill ever go back?"

"No, he never went back."

"Where did he go?"

"Why, he went to a seaport town and shipped as a sailor, and afterknocking about the seas for a time he settled in a country much likethis where we live. He liked the wild country, where he could hunt andfish, and where the people he met were true and honest, and helped eachother, instead of always trying to take advantage of one another."

"I'm glad he did that," declared Jimmy. "I wish he lived near us. Idon't think I'd like to live in a place like he came from, and I'm gladBobby came away from it."

"And the fishing and hunting are better here than where he came from,too, Partner."

"I don't want to live where the fishin' andhuntin' isn't fine, and it'sfine here."

"Aye, 'tis fine here, and many things are fine here. Destiny is theLord's will, and our destiny, Partner, is to live here and be as happyas we can; and now Bobby has come, it seems to be his destiny too."

And so Jimmy had his story, and bedtime had arrived, and the twopartners went to bed to be lulled to sleep by the storm raging abouttheir cabin.

CHAPTER IV

OVER A CLIFF

The storm that lulled Skipper Ed and his little partner to sleep alsolulled Abel Zachariah and Mrs. Abel and Bobby to sleep. Bobby's new bedwas finished. It was half the width of Abel's and Mrs. Abel's bed, butit was quite as long, for Bobby was to grow tall, and to become a bigand brave hunter. And, too, for present needs it must be of ample lengthto permit Mrs. Abel to lie down by Bobby's side of nights while shecrooned him to sleep with her quaint Eskimo lullabies.

Abel had expended great care in his handicraft, and derived a vast dealof satisfaction from the result. And when Mrs. Abel fitted the bunk witha fine feather bed which she made from the duck and goose featherswhich she had saved, and spread it with warm blankets and tucked Bobbyaway in it, he, too, seemed to find it entirely to his liking, for hewent to sleep at once, and slept as soundly as he could have slept in abed of carved mahogany, spread with counterpanes of silk and down.

Indeed, Bobby was in a fair way of being spoiled. His indulgent fosterparents could deny him nothing. They gratified his every wish and whim,even to the extent of tearing from its mother a little puppy dog, to thegreat distress of the dumb mother, and taking it into the house for himto play with.

Since Bobby's arrival Abel, devoting his spare moments to the task, hadcarved from walrus tusks six little ivory dogs, an ivory sledge, and alittle ivory Eskimo man, to represent the driver of the miniature team,for no dog team could be complete without a driver. Now, during the twodays' enforced leisure from out-of-door activities afforded him by theblizzard, he put the finishing touches upon his work. With infinitepatience he fashioned miniature harness for the ivory dogs, and,harnessing them to the ivory sledge, with due ceremony presented them toBobby. And Bobby, who was already learning to prattle Eskimo words,received the gift with unfeigned delight. Then he must learn the nameof each, which Abel patiently taught him to pronounce with proper accentand intonation: inuit—man; tingmik—dog; komatik—sledge.

This was the first of many toys that Abel made for Bobby in the weeksthat followed: a small dog whip, a fathom long, an exact counterpart ofAbel's own long whip, which was a full five fathoms long; a smallsledge, on which he could coast, and on which pups could haul him aboutover the ice; bow and arrow—nearly everything, indeed, that Abelbelieved his childish desires could crave.

When the storm had passed Skipper Ed and Jimmy came over on snowshoes,and Jimmy stopped for a week in Abel's cabin, with Mrs. Abel and Bobby,while Abel and Skipper Ed went away to hunt for seals. This was aglorious week for both lads, and with it began a comradeship andfriendship that was to last throughout their life and carry them inlater years side by side through many adventures.

The seal hunt was a success, and Abel and Skipper Ed returned with thebig boat loaded with seals. Then followed a season of activity. Theseals were skinned and dressed, the blubber placed in barrels in theporch, and the meat elevated to a stage outside where it was well out ofreach of the dogs, and was at hand to be used as dog food—and humanfood also during the winter.

The seal skins were turned over to Mrs. Abel, to soak and scrape andprepare for boots and other garments, which Abel and Skipper Ed andJimmy, as well as she herself, and Bobby, would require.

Bobby developed a vast liking for the choice morsels of the sealflippers and meat, which were always reserved for him, and it was notlong before he demanded his due share of the fresh blubber, too.

He loved, when Mrs. Abel was at work sewing the boots with sinew, tohelp her by chewing the edges of the oily leather, to soften and renderit pliable for the needle. Indeed, Bobby quickly developed into anEskimo child in all save the color of his skin, and texture and color ofhis hair, which persisted in remaining silky and yellow.

And thus the weeks passed. With the rapidly shortening days of November,cold increased with grim earnestness. Already the snow was gatheringdepth in the forest, and on the open spaces it lay frozen and hard, andthe sun now had no strength to soften it. A coating of ice crusted thebeach where the tide rose and fell, and this crackled and snapped as thewaves broke upon it. A strange, smoky vapor lay over the sea, shiftingin the east wind. The sea was "smoking," and was only waiting now, Abelsaid, for a calm, to freeze.

Then suddenly one night a great uncanny silence fell upon the world, andin the morning a gray level plain reached away, where the day before hadbeen the heaving billows of the bay. The sea was frozen at last, and formany long months there would be no breaking of waves upon the rocks orlapping of tides upon the sandy beach. The Frost King, grim andinexorable, had ascended his throne, and the world, subdued into uttersilence, lay prostrate and submissive at his feet.

Toward noon Jimmy came over, hauling behind him a sled, and upon it hissleeping bag of caribou skin, to say that Skipper Ed had gone thatmorning to his traps and would not return until the following evening,and Jimmy was to stay at Abel's over night. This was the custom whenSkipper Ed was away, and of course Jimmy was more than welcome with bothAbel and Mrs. Abel, and Bobby was delighted.

When dinner was over Abel, with a long stick, went down to inspect theice. He prodded it with the stick, and finding it to his satisfactionstepped out upon it, and still prodding ahead of him made a widecircuit. The ice bent as he walked, but sea ice is tough, and may beperfectly safe though it bends. And so Abel found it, for when he cameback he said "Piovok" (it is good).

Bobby was wrapped well, and out he went with Jimmy for his first winterfrolic. A wonderful time they had, coasting down the steep bank andshooting far out upon the ice, or running over the ice, with Bobby onthe sled and Jimmy hauling him, until at last, quite weary with the fun,they returned to the cabin to play with the ivory dogs and sledge untilsupper time.

After this Jimmy came often with his sled, and he and Bobby coasted thesteep bank or rolled and tumbled in the snow, or built miniature snowigloos, while Bobby grew as tough and hardy as any little Eskimo boycould have been, which was very much to the satisfaction, not only ofMr. and Mrs. Abel, but of Skipper Ed, as well.

It was not long after the ice came that the missionary from Nain visitedthem, and met Bobby for the first time. He was a tall, jolly man, andmade much of Bobby, asking many questions about the manner of Bobby'scoming.

"It is very strange," said he. "Shall I not take him, Abel, to theMission, and care for him there? You do not want a white child."

But there was such a protest from both Abel and his wife, who insistedthat Bobby was their own child, sent them by God, that the missionarynever again suggested taking him from them. When the mail left thecoast, however, the following summer, he wrote to England a fulldescription of the occurrence, and the fact of Bobby's rescue andwhereabouts was published far and wide in British papers, but noinquiries ever came of it, and no one came to claim Bobby.

But we must not linger over this period of Bobby's life. When he wasfive years of age Skipper Ed began his lessons, coming over to AbelZachariah's cabin as often as possible, for the purpose, and now andagain he would take Bobby to his own cabin to stop a day or two with himand Jimmy.

He supplied Bobby with the books he needed, and Bobby studied hard andlearned quickly, and was fascinated with the work, for Skipper Ed hadthe rare faculty of making study appear a pleasant game, and it was agame which Bobby loved to play.

There was little else, indeed, to occupy his attention during longwinter evenings—no streets to play in, no parties, no theaters—and hemade more rapid progress than he probably would have made had heattended school in civilization, for Skipper Ed was a good tutor andJimmy, who was already quite a scholar, was also of great help to Bobbyin preparing lessons.

And as Bobby grew and developed, Abel, on his part, taught him to bekeenly alert, patient, self-reliant and resourceful—qualities thatevery successful hunter and wilderness dweller must possess.

He learned first with the miniature whip that Abel made him, and laterwith Abel's own long dog whip, to wield the long lash with precision. Heand Jimmy would practice for hours at a time clipping a small bit of iceno larger than an egg from a hummock thirty feet away.

He played with the young puppies and trained them to haul him on hissmall sledge, and he would shout to them proudly, as large as life—andjust as Abel did when he drove the big team—"Hu-it!" when he wantedthem to start; "Ah!" when he wanted them to stop; "Ouk! Ouk! Ouk!"when he wanted them to turn to the right; "Ra! Ra! Ra!" for a turn tothe left; "Ok-su-it!" when he wished them to hurry; and with his whiphe enforced his commands.

He learned to shoot his bow and arrow, and to wield the harpoon andspear. Abel once fashioned for him, from a block of wood, a very goodimitation of a small seal, and Bobby and Jimmy had unending sportcasting their harpoons at it, and presently they became so expert thatseldom did they fail to make a "killing" strike.

When he was old enough Bobby learned to make his hunting implementshimself. Here, indeed, was required patience, perseverance, andresourcefulness, for his only tools were his knife and his ax, and hisonly material such as the wilderness produced; and to gain Abel'spraise, which was his high ambition, he must needs do his work with careand niceness. And thus Bobby was learning to be a man and a hunter.

Bobby was still a very young lad when Abel began to teach him the signsof the wilderness and the ways of the wild things that lived in thewoods. He learned to know the tracks of all the animals of the region,and even how long it had been since the animals that made the tracks hadpassed by. And he learned to make snares and traps, and how to handlehis gun—the wonderful gun which Abel told him God had sent with himfrom the Far Beyond—and shoot it quickly and accurately, for the manwho exists upon the wilderness must know how to do these things, and hissense of observation must be keenly trained; and he must train himselfto be alert.

One other accomplishment he acquired from Skipper Ed. He learned toswim. Even in midsummer these northern waters are icy cold. From thebreaking up of the ice in summer until the sea freezes again in winter,the natives spend their time upon the water or near it, yet it is rare,indeed, that one of them can swim. And so it was with Abel. He had neverin his life voluntarily gone into the sea. But Skipper Ed was a mightyswimmer, and under his instruction Jimmy had learned the art, and in thefourth summer after Bobby's arrival nothing would do but he, too, mustlearn. Much perseverance was necessary before Abel and Mrs. Abel gavetheir consent, but finally it was obtained, and in a little while Bobbywas as keen for a dip and a dive and a swim as were Skipper Ed and hispartner, Jimmy.

And so the years passed in toil, in pleasure, and in attainment—activeyears that were filled with glorious doing, and with never a heavymoment or idle wasting of time or vain dawdling.

"Never waste time," said Skipper Ed, one stormy winter's day when Bobbywas over there, and he and Bobby and Jimmy were luxuriating in their bigchairs before the fire. "If you can't be busy with your hands, be busywith your brain. You were put into the world for some purpose, and yourdestiny is the will of the Almighty. But we may spoil His will byrefusing to do the very best we can. The Almighty plans some fine thingfor each of us, but He leaves it with us to decide whether we will havethe fine things or not. What we're to be or to do comes to us gradually,just as the sun rises gradually. We never know ahead what He has plannedfor us. That's His big surprise.

"He may have put us into the world to do some great thing, and to becomea great and useful man, or we may be intended just to help other peopleto be noble and honest and true, by doing our duty always, and settingan example of honesty and nobility."

"Do you think you or Jimmy or I will ever be great men?" Bobby asked insome awe.

"Partner is a great man now" declared Jimmy. "He knows mosteverything!"

"No, not everything," laughed Skipper Ed. "Not everything, Partner.But," and he spoke gravely again, "I've always tried to do my duty asGod has pointed it out to me. Perhaps the Great Thing that I wasintended to do was to teach you two chaps what I could, and perhaps yourGreat Thing is to teach others, and perhaps working all together in thisway we may guide someone else to a great destiny.

"We are just hunters and fishermen. Aside from our own two families, wedon't see many people, except the missionary down at Nain, and theEskimos at the settlement there, and now and again in summer thefishermen on passing schooners. But that doesn't matter. Here Destinyplaced us, and here is our work, and we must do it the best we can.

"We should work hard when we have work to do; we should play hard whenwe are at play; we should think hard when we are neither working norplaying. We should not waste time idling. We should do our level best tofit ourselves for our destiny, whatever it may be."

This was one of many conversations of the sort that Skipper Ed had withthe boys. He was their comrade, their teacher, their adviser, and theirinspiration. And, be it said, with the constant inspiration, also, ofthe great wilderness and sea, with no other youthful companions orplaymates, and with little of the joy of sports with which boys incivilization are blessed, it was but natural that they should feel moredeeply the responsibility of life, and should ponder and take to heartmore seriously Skipper Ed's philosophy, than they would had their lotbeen cast in a city or a town.

It is not to be supposed, however, that they never got into mischief.They were too full of life and energy to avoid that. But they wereseldom or never instructed not to do this or that, and their mischiefwas usually the result of indiscretion and error of judgment natural toyouth, rather than disobedience. Eskimos do not whip or punish theirchildren. They treat them rather, as comrades, and the boy's effort isto do as nearly as he can the things his elders do and in the manner inwhich they do them.

And this was the case with Abel and Mrs. Abel and Bobby. They neverpunished Bobby. It was the case also with Skipper Ed and Jimmy. SkipperEd, from the first, called Jimmy his partner, and talked to him andtreated him very much as he would have done had Jimmy been a grown-up.

From the very beginning Bobby had his escapades, which usually includedadventures. During the first summer after his arrival he fell into thewater with due regularity, but always, fortunately, within reach ofAbel's or Mrs. Abel's strong arms. Once he climbed into the big boat,undid the painter, and the tide had carried him well out to sea beforehis plight was discovered and he was rescued by Abel in the skiff. Andonce he was lost for a day in the forest, with Abel, Mrs. Abel, SkipperEd, and Jimmy searching frantically for him. They found him, quite tiredout with his wanderings, peacefully sleeping on the forest moss.

With these escapades and a thousand others, Bobby kept his fosterparents pretty constantly varying between a state of suspense and astate of joy, for they were vastly delighted when he emerged from anadventure, usually not much the worse for his experience.

Bobby's age was, of course, a matter of conjecture. Abel and Mrs. Abelmust needs have a definite date set down as his birthday, in order thatit might be duly and appropriately celebrated each year, and as aconvenient date they chose December 1 of the year in which he came tothem as his fourth birthday. This was a date when the autumn seal huntwould be finished, and the sea ice would be formed, when Abel might goto Nain with the dogs and bring back some sweets or other surprise.

Upon this reckoning Bobby was eight and Jimmy was twelve years of agewhen the two lads had their first real adventure together. It was in thespring. A westerly wind had cleared the bay of ice, and Abel and SkipperEd had gone north in the big boat two days before for the spring sealhunt, and were not expected back for a fortnight. Jimmy, during SkipperEd's absence, was stopping with Bobby and Mrs. Abel as usual, and thetwo boys were out bright and early to haul a trout net which was set inthe mouth of a river which flowed into the bay not far away.

It was one of those ideal days which come now and again to that northerncountry in spring, as though to emphasize by contrast the fact that thelong bleak winter is over. The sun shone brilliantly and the ripplingwaves of the nearly placid bay sparkled and glinted alluringly, spicyodors of the forest perfumed the air, and birds twittered gleefully.

"Let's go egging, Bobby," Jimmy suggested, as the boys, pullingleisurely back from the river, turned Abel's old skiff to the beachlanding place below the cabin.

"All right," agreed Bobby, "let's do, as soon as we take care of thetrout. Mother said last night she'd like some eggs. We haven't had anyyet this year." Bobby always called Abel "Father," and Mrs. Abel"Mother."

"I'm sure there must be lots of ducks and gull and tern eggs out on theislands, and puffin and auk eggs on the cliffs along the shore. It'slots of fun!" said Jimmy enthusiastically.

So they hurried in with the trout, which they dressed, washed, andfinally salted down in a barrel. This required but a few minutes, andwhile they worked Mrs. Abel prepared a simple luncheon of bread,sufficient tea for a brewing, and a bottle of molasses for sweetening,and these, with their tea pail and cups and hunting bags, they carrieddown to the skiff, followed by Mrs. Abel's wishes for a pleasant day,and her "Oksutingae."

And so they set off down the bay to the islands, each pulling at a pairof oars and chatting gaily as they rowed, in fine spirits at theprospect, and enjoying their outing as only youth with enthusiasm canenjoy itself.

At the end of a three hours' row they turned the skiff to the slopingrock of an island shore, and landing, tied the painter to a big bowlder.

"This is a fine egg island," said Jimmy, as they set out with theirbags. "Partner brought me out here last year."

Squawking birds rose in every direction as they approached, and cloudsof gulls circled around crying the alarm. Down in rock crevasses alongthe shore they saw many sea pigeon eggs, and Bobby wanted to get them,but they were generally well out of reach.

"They're too small to bother with anyway," said Jimmy. "Come on."

"There! There!" shouted Bobby. "There goes an eider duck! And another!And another! Their eggs are fine and big! Let's find the nests!"

Presently they discovered, under a low, scrubby bush, a down-lined nestcontaining eight greenish-drab eggs.

"There's one!" shouted Jimmy. "This is an eider's nest."

And so, hunting among the bushes and rocks, they soon had their bagsfilled with eider duck, tern, gull, and booby eggs, while the birds inhundreds flew hither and thither, violently protesting, with discordantnotes, the invasion and the looting. But the eggs were good to eat, andthe boys smacked their lips over the feasts in store—and Mrs. Abelwanted them; that was the chief consideration, after all.

"Now," said Jimmy, "let's go over to the mainland and boil the kettle.It's away past dinner time and I'm as hungry as a bear."

"All right," agreed Bobby. "I'm so hungry I've just got to eat. Where'llwe go?"

"I know a dandy place over here, and there's a brook coming in close toit where we can get good water. It's just a few minutes' pull—justbelow the ledges."

Ten minutes' strong rowing landed them on a gravelly beach near themouth of a brook, which rushed down to the bay through a deep gulch. Tothe eastward the gulch banks rose into high cliffs which overhung thesea. Kittiwakes, tube-nosed swimmers, ivory gulls, cormorants, littleauks and other birds were flying up and down and along the cliff's face,or perching upon ledges on the rock, and, like the birds on the island,making a great deal of discordant noise.

"It seems as though there were no end of birds," said Bobby, as theysecured their boat. "I'd like to see what kind of nests those make upthere, and after we eat I'm going to look at some of them."

"You can't get up there," said Jimmy. "I've tried it lots of times. Theytake good care to leave their eggs where nobody can get at them."

"Well, I'm going to try, anyhow," Bobby declared, as he turned to thebrook for a kettle of water.

"I wish we had something to boil eggs in," said he, as he set the kettleof water down by Jimmy, who was whittling shavings for the fire.

"What's the matter with the old tin bucket we use for bailing theskiff?" Jimmy suggested. "I don't believe it leaks enough to hurt."

"That's so!" said Bobby. "We can boil 'em in that."

With the ax—in this country men never venture from home without an ax,for in wilderness traveling it is often a life saver—Jimmy split somesticks, and then with his jackknife whittled shavings from the dryheart. He stopped his knife just short of the end of the stick, untilsix or eight long, thin shavings were made, then, with a twist of theblade, he broke off the stub with the shavings attached to it. Thus theshavings were held in a bunch.

Several of these bunches he made, working patiently, for patience andcare are as necessary in building a fire as in doing anything else, andSkipper Ed had taught him that whatever he did should be done with allthe care possible. And so in making a fire he gave as much care to thecutting of shavings and placing of sticks as though it had beensomething of the highest importance, and doing it in this way he seldomfailed to light his fire, rain or shine, with a single match. Firemaking in the open is a fine art.

When Jimmy had collected enough shavings for his purpose, he placed twoof his split sticks upon the ground at right angles to each other, anend of one close up to the end of the other. Then, holding a bunch ofshavings by the thick, or stub, end, he struck a match and lighted thethin end, and when it was blazing well placed the unlighted end upon thetwo sticks where they met. Other bunches of shavings he laid on this,the thin ends in the blaze, the thick ends elevated upon the sticks.Then came small splits, and bigger splits, and in a moment he had acrackling fire.

He now secured a pole six or seven feet in length, and fixed one endfirmly in the ground, with the other end sloped over the fire. On thishe hung first, by its bale, the old bailing kettle, filled with water,and then the tea pail, in such a way as to bring them directly over theblaze, and though the fire was a small one, it was not many minutesbefore the kettles boiled. Then while Bobby dropped half a dozen eggsinto the bailing kettle, Jimmy lifted the tea pail off, put some teainto it, and set it by the fire to brew.

"Now," said Jimmy, presently, "let's go for it."

And they ate, as only hungry boys can, and with the keen relish ofyouths who live in the open.

"Let's see if we can't get some of the eggs off the cliff now,"suggested Bobby, when they were through. "I know I can climb downthere."

"I've tried it plenty of times," said Jimmy, "and I don't believe it canbe done. You can't get in from this end, and the top hangs over so youcan't get in from the top."

"Let's go up on top and try to get down, anyhow," insisted Bobby. "Iknow what! There's a harpoon line in the skiff. Father always keeps itstuffed in under the seat aft. We can tie an end of it under my arms andyou can let me down, and then pull me back."

And so without loss of time the young adventurers secured the harpoonline, and climbing out of the gully followed the top of the cliff to aplace where birds were numerous.

Jimmy tied a bowline knot at the proper distance from one end of theline, passed the line around Bobby's body under the arms, ran the end ofthe line through the loop, and secured it. With this arrangement theline could not tighten and pinch, and still was tight enough to holdBobby securely.

"Now," said Jimmy, indicating a high bowlder, "I'll bring the linearound this rock, so I'll have a purchase on it and it can't slip awayfrom me, and let it out as you climb down. You holler when you want tostop and holler when you want to come up."

The plan worked admirably for a while. Very slowly Bobby descended,calling out now and again for Jimmy to "hold" while he picked eggs fromnests on shelving rocks.

At last his bag was full, and he was ready to ascend.

"All right, Jimmy. Pull up now," he called.

Jimmy pulled, but pull as he would he could not budge Bobby one inch. Hedid not dare release the line where it made its turn around thebowlder, for without the leverage he feared the line would get away fromhim, in which case Bobby would crash to the bottom of the cliff. SoJimmy pulled desperately. But it was of no avail, and presently he tookanother turn of the line around the bowlder, and secured it so that itcould not slip, and ran forward.

Bobby was shouting to be drawn up, and Jimmy, throwing himself upon hisface and peering down over the edge of the cliff, saw Bobby dangling inmid air some forty feet below him and thirty feet above the deep blackwater. He also saw that, supported only by the line, Bobby was in astrained and perilous as well as most uncomfortable position.

His first impulse was to lower Bobby to the base of the cliff, and lethim wait there until he could get the boat, bring it around and take himoff. But he saw at a glance that at its foot the rocky cliff rose out ofthe deep water in a perpendicular wall, so smooth that there was noteven a hand hold to be had, and this was its condition for aconsiderable distance on either side. Neither was there hope that, inthe strong outgoing tide, and encumbered by clothing, Bobby could swimin the icy waters to a point where a footing could be had.

"Hurry, Jimmy; I can't stand this much longer! I can't stand it muchlonger!" Bobby shouted, as he caught a glimpse of Jimmy's head.

Jimmy in return shouted reassurance to Bobby, and ran back for anothereffort to pull him out. But again he pulled and pulled in vain. With allthe strength he had he could not pull Bobby up a single inch. With asickening dread at his heart, he refastened the line.

CHAPTER V

THE RESCUE

Jimmy realized that there was no help to be had from outside. There wasno one at home but Mrs. Abel, and rowing the skiff alone against thetide fully four hours would be consumed in reaching there and anotherthree hours in coming back. Then it would be well past dark. An easterlybreeze was springing up, and a chop was rising on the bay. Thiseasterly wind was likely to bring with it a cold storm, and Bobby,suspended thirty feet above the water, and not warmly dressed, mightperish.

"Yes," said Jimmy, "he might perish! He might perish! And it would be myfault!"

The thought brought a cold perspiration to Jimmy's forehead, and a cold,unnatural feeling to his spine, and in desperation he tried the lineagain. But it was useless effort. He could not pull it up. And again heran to the cliff, crawled out and peered over at the dangling and by nomeans silent Bobby.

"Hey there, Jimmy! Pull me up! Hurry!" shouted Bobby.

"I can't! I can't budge you! Oh, Bobby, what are we going to do?"

"If you can't pull me up, let me down!" Bobby was growing impatient. "Ican't stand this much longer. The line is cutting me in two."

"Try to climb up the line," suggested Jimmy, the idea striking him as abright one. "Just climb up, and when you get up here where I can reachyou I'll pull you over."

Bobby tried the experiment, but the line was oily, and in spite of hisbest efforts he could climb only a little way, when he would slide backagain.

"I can't do it," he shouted up to Jimmy, after several vain efforts."The line is too greasy. I can't get a good hold."

"I don't know what to do!" said the distressed Jimmy. "I don't know whatto do!"

"If you can't pull me up, let me down," directed Bobby.


"Hurry, Jimmy. I can't hang here much longer. I'm gettingall numb"

"That won't do any good," said Jimmy. "You'll only go into the water anddrown, for there's no place for you to stand."

"Well," Bobby insisted, "let me down nearer the water. I feel all thetime as though the line was going to break, and I'm so high up from itthat it makes me dizzy swinging around this way."

"Holler when you want me to stop," shouted Jimmy, rising and runningback.

But Jimmy found that after all he could let Bobby down only a verylittle way when he came to the end of the line. So he fastened it again.

"That's as far as it will go!" he called, lying down on his face againto look over the cliff at Bobby, who was now about twenty feet above thewater.

"Then go and get the boat and fetch it down," shouted Bobby. "Hurry,Jimmy. I can't hang here much longer. I'm getting all numb."

That was a solution of the difficulty that had not occurred to Jimmy,and without delay he ran away along the cliff top and down to the skiff,which was lying a half mile above, and, undoing the painter, rowed withall his might toward Bobby, until presently he drew up directly beneaththe swinging lad.

"Can you unfasten the line and drop into the boat, Bobby?" he asked,gazing up.

"No," decided Bobby, glancing at the skiff, which rose and fell on theswell, and which Jimmy was holding dangerously near the breaking waveson the cliff base. "I might hit the boat but I'd break my neck, andmaybe tip you over. Stand her off a little, and I'll show you."

He felt in his pocket for his jackknife, drew it out and opened it. Thenwith his left hand he succeeded, after several attempts, in liftinghimself sufficiently to relieve the strain of his body, and with thejackknife in his right hand cut the line where it circled his body belowthe arms.

Hanging now by his left hand he deliberately and coolly closed the knifeby pushing the back of the blade against his leg, and restored it to hispocket. This done he grasped the line with his right hand just above thebowline knot, where he had a firm hold, slipped his other hand down toit, and began swinging in toward the cliff and out over the waves, andthen on an outward swing, let go. Down he went, well away from therocks, feet first into the deep water, and, a moment later, appearing onthe surface, swam to the skiff, grasped it astern, and climbed aboard,shivering from his icy bath.

"Oh, Bobby, you're a wonder!" exclaimed Jimmy. "I never would havethought of that way of your getting off that line!"

"'Twasn't anything," declared Bobby, deprecatingly, as he seated himselfand picked up his oars. "Now let's pull back where we can put on a fire.I'm freezing cold."

"I was scared when I found I couldn't pull you up," said Jimmy, as theyrowed back to the gully. "Wasn't you?"

"No, I wasn't scared," boasted Bobby. "I was just getting cold andnumb. The worst of it is I had to drop my bag with all the eggs Ipicked off the cliff. I had some dandies, too! Two of them were theprettiest eggs I ever saw—real small at one end and big at the other,and all colored and marked and spotted up. They were different from anyeggs I ever saw, too."

"Did you find 'em together, or separate?"

"Found 'em separate, on different ledges."

"I know what they were! They were murre eggs. Murre eggs are differentfrom any other kind. They've got more colors and marks on 'em. Partnerfound some last year."

"There were some murres down on the water, but I never thought they'd goup to lay their eggs in places like that. The eggs were right on thebare rock, and weren't in a nest at all, and if it wasn't for theirshape they'd have rolled off."

"It's a strange place for any bird to leave eggs, but that's where thekittiwakes, auks and swimmers and some of the gulls and lots of birdsmake nests and lay eggs. I suppose it's so as to make it hard to findthem when folks go egging. Partner tells me lots, and I ask lots ofquestions, because he says the more I know about the way birds andanimals live and the things they do, the better I'll be able to hunt andtake care of myself."

In spite of his exertion at the oars, Bobby's teeth were chattering whenthey landed at the place where they had cooked their dinner. But it wasnot long before Jimmy had a roaring fire and the kettle over for somehot tea, and then, leaving Bobby to dry his clothes, Jimmy climbed upagain over the cliff to recover Abel's harpoon line, which was much toovaluable to be left behind.

At this season of the year the days are long in Labrador, and though itwas nearly eleven o'clock at night when the boys reached home, it wasstill twilight. Mrs. Abel was on the lookout for them, and had a finepan of fried trout and steaming pot of tea waiting on the table, for sheknew they would be hungry, as boys who live in the open always are. Andshe praised them for the fine lot of eggs they brought her, and laughedvery heartily over Bobby's adventure, for in that land adventure is apart of life, and all in a day's work.

CHAPTER VI

WITH PASSING YEARS

Bobby's adventure on the cliff was, after all, but typical of theadventures that he was regularly getting into, and drawing Jimmy into,but somehow coming out of unscathed, during these years of his career.Though he was nearly four years Jimmy's junior, he was invariably theinstigator of their escapades.

Jimmy was inclined to cautiousness, while Bobby had a reckless turn, orrather failed to see danger. Bobby was naturally a leader, and in spiteof his youth Jimmy instinctively recognized him as such. He could alwaysovercome Jimmy's scruples and cautions, and with ease and celerity leadJimmy from one scrape into another.

But Bobby invariably kept a cool head. He had a steady brain and nerveand the faculty of quick thought and prompt decision, with a practicalturn of mind. If he got Jimmy and himself into a scrape, he usually gotthem out of it again not much the worse for their experience.

Jimmy was imaginative and emotional, and when they were in peril hecould see only the peril, and picture the possible dire results. Bobby,on the other hand, concentrated his attention upon some practical methodby which they might extricate themselves, losing sight, seemingly, ofwhat the result might be should they fail to do so.

Bobby had doubtless inherited from his unknown ancestors the peculiarmental qualities that made him a leader. From Abel he had absorbed theEskimo's apparent contempt of danger. Abel, like all Eskimos, was afatalist. If he was caught in a perilous position he believed that ifthe worst came it would be because it was to be. If he escaped unharmed,so it was to be. Therefore why be excited? Bobby had as completelyaccepted this creed as though he, too, were an Eskimo, for his life andtraining with Abel was the life and training of an Eskimo boy.

And so the years passed, and Bobby grew into a tall, square-shouldered,alert, handsome, self-reliant youth. He was in nearly every respect,save the color of his skin and the shade of his hair, an Eskimo. Hespoke the language like an Eskimo born, his tastes and his life wereEskimo, his ambition to be a great hunter—the greatest ambition of hislife—was the ambition of an Eskimo, and he bore the hardships, which tohim were no hardships at all, like an Eskimo. He was much more anEskimo, indeed, than the native half-breeds of the coast farther south.

In one respect, however, Bobby was highly civilized. He was a greatreader and an exceptional student. Skipper Ed had seen to this withsingleness of purpose.

To him and Jimmy study was recreation. Mathematical problems wereinteresting to them, just as the solution of puzzles interests the boyin civilization. Just as the boy in civilization will work for hoursupon the solution of a mechanical puzzle, they worked upon problems inarithmetic and geometry, and with the same gusto. They studiedgrammatical construction much as they studied the tracks and the habitsof wild animals. They read the books in Skipper Ed's library with thefeelings and sensations of explorers. In the first reading they weregoing through an unknown forest, and with each successive reading theywere retracing their steps and exploring the trail in minute detail andbecoming thoroughly acquainted with the surrounding country.

This may seem very improbable and unnatural to the boy whose studies areenforced and, because they are compulsory, appeal to him as tediousduties which he must perform. But nevertheless it was very natural.Human nature is obstinate and contrary. Tom Sawyer's friends derivedmuch pleasure from whitewashing the fence, and even paid for theprivilege. Had their parents set them to whitewashing fences they wouldhave found it irksome work, and anything but play.

Bobby, indeed, had developed two distinct personalities. In hisevery-day living he was decidedly an Eskimo; but of long winterevenings, reading or studying Skipper Ed's books, at home in Abel'scabin, or in one of the easy chairs in Skipper Ed's cabin, when SkipperEd explained to him and Jimmy the things they read, Bobby was as farremoved from his Eskimo personality as could be.

Abel and Mrs. Abel never wavered in their belief that God had sent Bobbyto them from the Far Beyond, through the place where mists and stormswere born. They believed he had been sent to them direct from heaven.

But Bobby was very human, indeed. No one other than Abel and Mrs. Abelwould ever have ascribed to him angelic origin, and as he developed itmust have caused a long stretch of even their imagination to continuethe fiction. There was nothing ethereal about Bobby. His big, huskyframe, his abounding and never-failing appetite, and his high spirits,were very substantial indeed.

And as Bobby grew, and more and more took part in the bigger things oflife, his adventures grew from the smaller adventures of the boy to thegreater ones of the man.

In this wild land no one knows when he will be called upon to meetadventure. The sea winds breathe it, it stalks boldly over the bleakwastes of the barrens, and in the dark and mysterious fastnesses of theforest it crouches, always ready for its chance to spring forward andmeet you unawares. Adventure, ay, and grave danger too, are wont to showthemselves unexpectedly. And so, one winter's evening, they came toSkipper Ed and Bobby and Jimmy.

CHAPTER VII

THE WOLF PACK

In seasons when caribou were plentiful along the coast, wolves were alsoplentiful, for it is the habit of wolves in this land to follow thetrail of the caribou herds and prey upon the stragglers. And so it wasthat sometimes of a winter's night the silence of the hills was startledby the distant howl of wolves. And always Skipper Ed's dogs and Abel'sdogs would answer the wild, weird cries of their untamed kin of thehills with equally weird cries, their muzzles in the air and thelong-drawn notes rising and falling in woful and dismal cadence.

Perhaps the dogs were possessed of an uninterpreted longing to jointheir brothers of the wilderness in their care-free wanderings, and beforever free themselves from the yoke of sledge and whip and the toiland drudgery of the trail. But so like men were the beasts that theynever had the courage to cast themselves free from the shackles of theirman-master, though it required but a resolution and a plunge into thehills.

"So it is with many a man," said Skipper Ed one evening when Bobby wasstopping for the night with him and Jimmy, and a wolf howl was followedby the answering howl of dogs. "Many and many a man that has the powerand strength within him, and the brains too, if he but knew it, to goout into the broad world of endeavor and do great things, simmers hislife away in the little narrow world into which he has grown, expendinghis energies as a servant when he might be a master. He keeps his eyesto the ground and never looks out or up, and so he never knows how bigthe world is or how much it holds for him.

"It takes courage sometimes to break loose from old things. But it's theman that dares to break loose, and hit a new trail, and try his hand atnew things, that wins. The man that never takes a chance, never getsanywhere, and then he says that luck has been against him. I speak ofluck sometimes, but I don't mean it in that way. There is no such thingas luck. What we call luck is the Almighty's reward when we've done thebest we can."

"Did you ever try new things?" asked Bobby.

"Yes, yes, lad! Long ago," and a shadow fell upon Skipper Ed's face, topass in a moment, however, as he added, "I think I did what the LordAlmighty intended me to do."

"What was it?" asked Bobby, ever curious.

"To come here, and be Jimmy's partner, and to be a friend to both of youyoung scalawags, I think," and Skipper Ed smiled.

"Didn't you ever ask the Lord to let you do some big, big things?"insisted Bobby.

"Partner does big things all the time," protested Jimmy. "He's a fineshot, and there isn't a better hunter on The Labrador."

"Yes," said Skipper Ed, "I've asked the Lord, and I think the big thingHe's given me to do is to teach you chaps the best I can, and maybe myteaching will help one of you to do the big, big thing."

And then a wolf howled again, not far away this time, and out in frontof the cabin Skipper Ed's dogs howled an answer, and down from Abel'scabin came the long, weird cry of woe from Abel's dogs; and the threesat silent for a little, and listened.

"The wolves are growing bold," remarked Skipper Ed presently. "That lastfellow that howled was just above here in the gulch."

"I'd like to see one running loose," said Bobby, "but they don't like toshow themselves to me, and I never saw but one in my life."

Skipper Ed arose, and donning his adikey went out of doors, soon toreturn followed by a breath of the keen, frosty air of the winter night.

"It's bright moonlight," said he, rubbing his hands briskly to warmthem, for he had worn no mittens. "The wind is nor' nor'west, and if youchaps feel like an adventure we'll take a walk around and up thes'uth'ard side of the gulch, where he won't get a smell of us, and maybewe'll have a look at that old rounder that's howling, and who knows butwe might get a shot at him and his mates. What do you say?"

"Fine!" agreed the boys in unison, springing eagerly up from theirchairs.

"Well, hustle into your adikeys, then, and we'll try to get to leewardof the old fellow," directed Skipper Ed.

"I hope there'll be a chance for a shot!" Bobby exclaimed excitedly, asthey shouldered their rifles and slung cartridge pouches over theirshoulders.

"So do I!" agreed Jimmy.

"Just a bare chance," said Skipper Ed, as they passed out into the porchshed and took their snowshoes from the pegs. "It depends upon which waythey're traveling."

"Do you think there's more than one?" asked Bobby in an excitedundertone, as they swung away on snowshoes.

"Yes, but we'd better not talk now. They're keen, and shy old devils,and they might hear us," warned Skipper Ed.

Cautiously but swiftly they stole out and into the moonlit forest and upinto the gulch and along the southern banks of a frozen brook. Now andagain Skipper Ed halted, stooping to peer about and along the open spacethat marked the bed of the stream. Presently he held up his hand as asign of caution, and crouched behind a clump of brush, motioning theboys to follow his example.

"They're just above us," he whispered. "I saw them moving among thetrees, above the bend. They're coming down this way, and they'll comeout in that open just ahead of us. Don't shoot till I tell you, but beready for them, lads."

"How many are there?" Bobby whispered excitedly.

"I can't tell yet. But I saw them move, and there's more than one,"answered Skipper Ed.

A moment later the blood-curdling howl of a wolf broke the foreststillness. It was answered by the distant howl of the dogs, and thennear at hand the night was startled by the defiant howl of many wolves,long, loud and terrible in unexpected suddenness, and so close that theboys involuntarily rose from their crouch.

"A pack!" whispered Skipper Ed, "and a big pack! See them coming there!Too many for us to tackle, lads! Keep quiet, now, lads, and don't loseyour heads and don't shoot! We must keep to leeward of them so theywon't get our scent, and we must get back to the cabin. They're too manyfor us to tackle."

As he spoke the leaders of the pack—great, fearsome creatures loomingbig on the glistening white of the moonlit snow—straggled leisurelyaround the bend of the frozen stream—one—two—three—Skipper Edcounted until more than twenty had appeared, and still others werecoming. It was a pack large enough to be fearless of any enemy and toattack boldly any prey that crossed its path.

Leading the way, and keeping under cover of trees, with Bobby and Jimmyclose at his heels, Skipper Ed turned and ran down the gulch toward thecabin, which was not above a mile distant. The gulch ended in an openspace, which was a marsh in summer but was now a white expanse ofhard-beaten snow. Between this open space and the bay shore a hedge ofthick brush grew. On its northern and southern sides the open wasflanked by the forest, extending from the gulch mouth to the shore ofthe bay, and on the northern side it continued to Skipper Ed's cabin andbeyond.

Skipper Ed led the way into the forest to the southward of the open,that they might keep well to leeward of the pack, and thus avoid so faras possible danger of the wolves getting their scent. He hoped that thismaneuver might permit them to circuit back to the cabin under theprotecting cover of the brush fringe along the shore and the forest tothe northward. To have crossed the open would have been to invitediscovery, for it was evident the wolves would follow the bed of thestream through the gulch and into the open.

Whether they would answer the call of the dogs and turn northward, orwhether they would range southward in quest of prey, was uncertain. Ifto the southward they would be very sure to catch the wind of Skipper Edand the boys almost immediately, and be upon them before they couldreach safety. If they answered the dogs, there would still be danger,but the three in that case would be enabled to keep on the lee side ofthe pack with the probability of detection considerably lessened.Therefore Skipper Ed hoped and trusted that the wolves would answer thechallenge of the dogs.

Even then there was still the danger that the trail made by them ontheir way up the gulch would be discovered, and unless the dogs proved agreater attraction Skipper Ed knew that the moment the wolves came uponthe trail they would take up the fresh scent, and might overtake thembefore they could gain the shelter of the cabin.

As it came about, they were behind the brush hedge, running up theshore, when the wolves wound out of the gulch and into the open. Througha break in the brush Skipper Ed saw them dimly, in the distance. Theleaders stopped and sniffed. Suddenly came the howl of pursuit—theawful, terrifying cry of the wolf pack fresh upon the heels of quarry.The wolves had turned on the trail and were off up the gulch.

"Run!" commanded Skipper Ed, half under his breath, but still in a toneso loud and tense that the boys heard. "Run! We must run now for ourlives!"

And they did run, but had scarcely gained the cover of the woods on thenorthern side of the open when wolf cries left no doubt that the animalshad discovered the return trail and were hot upon it. It seemed now thatnothing but an intercession of Providence could save them. The wolf packwould surely overtake them before they could attain the protection ofthe cabin.

CHAPTER VIII

THE BATTLE

Now they could hear the pack yelping down through the forest! Alreadyit had reached the brush hedge by the shore! It had made its turnnorthward, the yelps increasing in volume as it approached! Now theleaders were in sight!

"Go on! Go on!" yelled Skipper Ed, himself lagging in order that hemight fall in the rear of the boys and take a position between them andthe wolves, and as he did so he turned quickly and fired a random shotat the leader of the pack.

The cabin had just loomed into view dimly through the trees, and thewolves, almost upon their expected prey, were sounding the wild, fiercecry of triumph, when another pack, like phantoms in the forest shadows,coming from the direction of the cabin, swept down past Skipper Ed andthe boys, suddenly breaking forth as they ran into a fierce howl of defiance.[B]

"Thank God!" exclaimed Skipper Ed. "The dogs! The dogs will help us!Run, lads, and get to the door! I'll stop and help hold them with myrifle till you get in!"

But Bobby and Jimmy would not have it so. They, too, turned, and in thedim light of the shadowed forest the three fired into the face of thepack until their rifles were empty. Whether or not any of the animalsfell they could not see, but the pack paused for a moment in surprise.Then the dogs charged them, and as the three reached the cabin dooryelps and snarls told of the clash as the dogs met their wild kin of thehills in battle.

"Thank God!" again breathed Skipper Ed when the three, panting forbreath, were safe in the cabin, a moment later, with the good stout doorbetween them and the ravenous pack, which presently came snapping andsnarling around the cabin. "I never saw such a pack of wolves before. Inever knew that they gathered in such numbers in these days. There mustbe at least thirty of them."[C]

"The dogs! Partner, what will become of our dogs?" exclaimed Jimmy."They'll kill our fine dogs!"

"I'm afraid they will," agreed Skipper Ed, who had lighted a lamp andwas loading the magazine of his rifle. "Load up, partner. Load up,Bobby. We'll see what we can do from cover."

"We must have killed some of them!" Bobby exclaimed excitedly. "I know Idid! I saw three fall when we shot!"

"Yes, of course we did," agreed Skipper Ed, "but there are enough ofthem we didn't kill. Here, you chaps," he added, raising a window threeor four inches. "You should get some good shots from here. I'll try myluck from the shed door."

They had turned the lamp low, that they might see the better what wasgoing on out of doors. The wolves, baffled by the sudden disappearanceof their quarry, were ranged a little distance from the porch door, savetwo or three of the bolder ones, which were sniffing at the door itself.The dogs were nowhere to be seen.

"Look out!" called Bobby to Skipper Ed, who was about to open the porchdoor. "Some of them are right at the door!"

Then he and Jimmy began shooting. The wolves at the door fell, andSkipper Ed, opening the door a little way, joined in a fusillade at themain pack. The rapid reports of the rifles at close range, together withthe flashes of fire from an unseen source, struck panic to the heart ofthe pack. A slightly wounded one turned and ran. That was a signal forpanic, as is the way of men and beasts, and the whole pack followed ina mad, wild rush to the cover of the woods.

An instant and the last of the pack had faded into the shadows among thetrees—all save those left sprawling and limp upon the snow, which wouldnever roam the hills again, and one or two of the wounded, which werewhining, like whipped dogs, and the clearing about the cabin was asdeserted as ever it was.

"I'll go out," said Skipper Ed, "and end the suffering of those woundedbrutes. Build up the fire, partner, and put the kettle on, and we'llhave some tea. Then if there's no sign of what's left of the packreturning, we'll haul the carcasses into the shed, where we can skinthem tomorrow."

There was a roaring, cheerful fire in the stove when Skipper Ed returneda few minutes later to report that twelve wolves lay dead outside.

"There must be some more down where we shot them at first," said he, ashe drew off his adikey, "and some of those that got away were wounded,no doubt. At any rate we've cut the pack down so far in numbers that itwon't be a menace any longer."

"What'll they do now?" asked Bobby, as the three settled into their easychairs to wait for the kettle to boil.

"Go and look for caribou, and attend to their business, I suppose, andleave us quiet, peaceable folk alone," he laughed, adding: "I never sawsuch a pack before, though I've heard some of the old Eskimos say thatyears ago it used to happen now and again that packs like this appeared.Wolves are cowardly beasts, but numbers give them courage. When six oreight get together, you have to look out for them, and when the packgrows to a dozen they'll attack openly, and aren't afraid ofanything—not even man."

"Well, anyway we had the adventure we started out to get," laughedBobby, "and a little more of it than we expected."

"Yes, and a nice haul of wolf pelts to boot," added Skipper Ed.

"We were lucky they didn't get us," said Jimmy.

"Yes," agreed Skipper Ed, "lucky—the kind of luck we were talking abouttonight. That is, the luck of the Almighty's bounty and protection. Wedid the best we could, according to our lights, to protect and helpourselves, and so He helped, and brought us safely back, none the worse,and perhaps a little the stronger and better and richer in experiencethan we were an hour ago."

"It was a corking good adventure, anyhow!" broke in Bobby. "That sort ofthing just makes me tingle all over! Somehow when I get out of a messlike that I feel a lot bigger and stronger and more grown up. It wasgreat fun—now that it's over."

"You're a natural-born adventurer," laughed Skipper Ed. "You should havelived in the old days, when men had to fight for their life, or went outto find and conquer new lands."

"Well, I'm glad it's over," Jimmy shuddered—"the run from thewolves—and that they've gone. I didn't have time to feel much scaredout there, but I'm scared now of what might have happened. I don't liketo get into such fixes."

"Well, it's over, and all is well, and we're none the worse for it. Nowdrink your hot tea, lads," counseled Skipper Ed. "We've work to dobefore we sleep."

They ate their hardtack biscuit, and sipped the hot tea silently for alittle, listening the while to the snug and cheerful crackle of wood androar of flames in the big box stove.

"Now," said Skipper Ed finally, "we'll haul the wolves into the porch,and make them safe, for the dogs are like to tear at them, and injurethe pelts."

The following morning the carcasses of five additional wolves werediscovered at the place where they had first fired upon the pack. Two ofthe dogs, mangled and torn by wolf fangs, were dead, and three otherswere so badly injured that for a long time they were unfitted fordriving. But the others had discreetly decided that it was better "torun away and live to fight another day," and were none the worse fortheir scrimmage.

Bobby, of course, ran over to Abel's cabin to tell the great news of thebattle, and Abel and Mrs. Abel must needs return with him to assist inremoving the pelts from the animals, and to spend the day with SkipperEd and his partner. And a merry day it was for all of them, for wolfpelts could be traded at the mission store for necessaries. And none ofthem gave heed or thought to the danger the pelts had cost, save to givethanks to God for His deliverance; for dangers in that land are anincident of the game of life, and there the game of life is truly aman's game.

CHAPTER IX

THE FISHING PLACES

Like every other healthy lad of his years Bobby loved fun and adventure,though he had early learned to carry upon his broad shoulders a fullportion of the responsibilities of the household. In the bleak landwhere he lived there is no shifting of these responsibilities. Everyman,and every boy, too, must do his share to wrest a living from the sea androcks, and Bobby had no thought but to do his part. If a boy cannot doone thing in Labrador, he can do another. He can cut wood, hunt smallgame, attend the fish nets, jig cod—there are a thousand things that hecan do, and make sport of as he does them, too, as Bobby did, until hegrows to man's estate.

Each summer Abel and Mrs. Abel returned to their old fishing place onItigailit Island, and of course Bobby went with them, and did his sharein jigging cod; and each summer Skipper Ed and Jimmy went to SkipperEd's old fishing place—the place where he had found his forlorn littlepartner that stormy autumn day, when they had sealed their bargain witha handshake.

The days of preparation for departure to the fishing were days of keenand pleasurable anticipation for the boys. It was a break from theroutine of the long winter, and brought with it the novelty of change.These promised weeks upon the open sea were always weeks of delight, andabove all else was the pleasure of seeing and sometimes visiting thefishing schooners which occasionally chanced their way.

The schooners had a wonderful fascination for the lads, for they camefrom the far-away and mysterious land of civilization of which SkipperEd had told them so often and so much, and of which they had read soeagerly on long winter evenings.

It was more than a novelty to listen to the sailormen on the schoonerstalk of the strange happenings in that wonderful land, and to hear themsing their quaint old sea songs and chanteys, or relate marvelousstories of adventure.

Sometimes a skipper would drop them a newspaper, many weeks old to besure, but as fresh and interesting to them as though it had comedirectly from the press. Or perchance—and this was a treasureindeed—an illustrated magazine fell to their lot. And no line of paperor magazine, even to the last advertisement, but was read many and manytimes over. And no illustration in the magazines but held theirattention for hours upon hours.

These old newspapers and magazines were preserved, and carried home totake their place as a valued source of entertainment on stormy winterdays and long winter evenings. And finally the illustrations and moreinteresting articles were clipped and pasted upon the walls until theinteriors of Abel's and Skipper Ed's cabins became veritable picturegalleries and libraries of reference.

But the eve of parting for their separate fishing places was alwaystinged with sadness and regret, for during these weeks they were deniedone another's companionship.

"If our fishing places were only close to each other, so we could fishtogether, wouldn't it be fine!" suggested Bobby, one spring day as heand Jimmy sat on a rock below Abel's cabin, looking expectantly out overthe bay, while Abel, with Skipper Ed's assistance, put the finishingtouches upon the big boat in preparation for departure to their fishingplaces the next morning.

"Yes, wouldn't it!" exclaimed Jimmy. "If we weren't so busy, Partner andI would be dreadfully lonesome without you."

"And if it wasn't for being busy I'd be dreadfully lonesome without you,too," admitted Bobby. "I always am, anyhow."

"Yes," said Jimmy, "so are we on days when the sea's so rough we can'tfish."

"But it's fine out there, and it's always fine to get back, isn't it,Jimmy?"

"Aye, 'tis that!" declared Jimmy.

"But it makes me feel lonesome already," said Bobby, returning to theoriginal proposition, "to think that I won't see you and Skipper Ed forso long."

"What's this I hear? Lonesome for Partner and me?" asked Skipper Ed,who had finished with the boat and, coming up behind the boys, overheardBobby's remark.

"Yes," said Bobby, "at the fishing."

"Well, well, now, isn't that strange!" ejaculated Skipper Ed. "I wasthinking the same way, and Abel was thinking that way, too, and we'vebeen talking it over!"

"Jimmy and I think 'twould be fine if we could all fish together,"continued Bobby.

"So were we! So were we! A strange coincidence!" declared Skipper Ed."And Abel thinks it might be arranged."

"Oh, can it? Can it?" and the boys jumped to their feet.

"I don't know," and Skipper Ed's face assumed a long and gloomyexpression as he seated himself upon the rock. "There's one thing in theway and I couldn't consent."

"Why can't we?" asked Jimmy, in deep disappointment.

"Because," said Skipper Ed seriously, "I'm not free to consent."

"Why not? Yes, you are!" coaxed Bobby. "Please do."

"I'd like to," said Skipper Ed. "Yes, I'd like to; but you see I'vegot a partner, and one partner can't go ahead and do things unless theother partner agrees. At any rate he shouldn't. Do you agree, Partner?"

The boys gave a whoop of joy.

"Then you consent, Partner?" and Skipper Ed's eyes twinkled humorously.

"Of course I do, Partner!" exclaimed Jimmy. "It's what I've wanted to doright along."

"Then everything is arranged," said Skipper Ed. "Abel says there areplenty of fish for all of us around Itigailit Island. Perhaps, then,we'd better go home, Partner, and put things in shipshape for an earlystart in the morning."

And so they parted in high glee, Bobby to the cabin to break the goodnews to Mrs. Abel, and Skipper Ed down the trail toward his own cabin,with Jimmy at his heels.

CHAPTER X

A FOOLHARDY SHOT

Though the days were long now, for this was July, when dawn comes inthis land before two o'clock in the morning, it was scarce daylight whenSkipper Ed and Jimmy in their big trap boat, and with a skiff in tow inwhich were stowed his seven sledge dogs, hoisted sail and bore down thebay before a westerly breeze.

And as they passed beyond the point which separated the cove in whichAbel's cabin stood from the cove where their own cabin stood, theydiscovered Abel's boat almost abreast of them, and within hailingdistance. Bobby and Jimmy exchanged vociferous greetings, and Skipper Edand Abel converged their courses until the boats were so close as topermit of conversation.

It was a glorious morning. The air was crisp and fragrant with whiffs offorest perfumes borne down to them from the near-by shore. Banks ofbrilliant red and orange in the eastern sky foretold the coming of thesun. The sea sparkled. Gulls and other wild fowl soared overhead or rodelightly upon the swell. A school of shining caplin shimmered on thesurface of the water. Here and there a seal lifted its curious head fora moment, and then disappeared. At intervals a grampus, with astartling, roaring blow, raised its great black back above the surface,and then sank again from view.

On barren hillsides patches of snow, remnants of mighty drifts, layagainst the dark moist rocks like great white sheets, and here and thereminiature ice pans rose and fell upon the swell, reminders of the longcold winter, for winter in this far northern clime is ever reluctant torelinquish its grasp upon the earth.

The glow in the east disappeared at length, and then the sun rose tocaress them with his warmth. Presently mirages appeared. Islands seemedto sit upon the tops of other islands, or to hang suspended in the air,and every distant shore became distorted in the brilliant July sunlight.

"That's the way a good many of us look at things in this life," saidSkipper Ed. "We see the mirage, and not the thing itself. Hopes loom upand look real, when they're just false. It's a great thing to be able totell the differences between what is real and what is just a mirage."

The wind fell away to a dead calm before noon, and though Abel andSkipper Ed worked at their heavy sculling oars, and Bobby and Jimmy andMrs. Abel at the other oars, the boats, laden as they were, and retardedby the skiffs in tow, made such slow progress that at length theystopped at a convenient island to boil the kettle and cook their dinnerand wait for a returning breeze.

Dinner was a jolly feast, simple as it was, for in this land folk liveupon simple food and are satisfied with little variety, for theirappetites and desires are not glutted, as ours so often are. And manythings that you and I deem necessary they do not miss, because they havenever had them, and more often than not have never so much as heard ofthem. And perhaps it is just as well, and their happiness is just ascomplete.

A cod which Bobby caught with his jigger, was boiled in sea water,because sea water salted it to just the right flavor. This was the firstcod of the season, and the first cod is always a delicacy, and so theydeemed it, together with some of Mrs. Abel's bread, and a pot of teasweetened with a drop of molasses.

Then Skipper Ed and Abel shaved tobacco from black plugs, and Skipper Edand Abel and Mrs. Abel talked while they waited for the wind to risethat was to carry them on their journey.

It was a rocky, irregular island upon which they had halted, with rockssloping up from the water's edge, and on the top some struggling bunchesof brush. It was not a large island, but nevertheless Bobby and Jimmydeemed it worthy of exploration, and so, bent upon discovery, they lefttheir elders to talk, while they wandered about.

"There's a dotar on the shore," exclaimed Bobby, stopping suddenly andindicating the dark body of a harbor seal sunning itself comfortablyupon the surface of the smooth, flat rocks near water. "Wait here,Jimmy, till I get my gun and try a shot at him."

And away he ran, presently to return with his gun—the same that Abelhad found in the boat at the time he discovered Bobby. It wasdouble-barreled, and a shotgun, but now both barrels were loaded withround ball. And loaded with ball it was effective enough at fifty yardsor so, but far from certain in accuracy at a greater distance.

"Let's work down through the brush as far as we can," suggested Bobby,"and then I'll crawl down on him, if he'll let me, for a good closeshot."

Slowly they crawled, and cautiously, looking at nothing and payingattention to nothing but the seal, which, presently becoming consciousof danger perhaps, grew restless; and though Bobby was not as near hisgame as he should have wished, he threw up his gun and fired. Thebullet, after the manner of bullets fired from shotguns at long range,went wide of its mark, and the seal, after the manner of seals, slippedgently into the water and was gone.

"There he goes!" exclaimed Bobby in disgust, springing to his feet. "IfI had only had a rifle!"

"Yes," said Jimmy, "you'd have—"

Jimmy's sentence was cut short by the sound of a heavy tread behindthem, and wheeling about our young hunters discovered a big polar bear,in the edge of the brush and not twenty yards away. It had apparentlybeen aroused from an afternoon sleep, and not being partial to humansociety was now bent upon an expeditious departure from the vicinity.Quick as a flash Bobby raised his gun to his shoulder.

"Don't shoot! Don't shoot!" warned Jimmy.

But Bobby did not heed the warning. The bullet from the undischargedbarrel went crashing into the animal's shoulder. The bear stumbled, bitfuriously at the wound, and then in a rage charged upon his nowdefenseless enemies.

Polar bears, unless very hungry, or unless placed in a position where they must defend themselves, will rarelyattack man. But when wounded they are more likely than not to becomefurious, and their fury knows no bounds. Bent upon revenge they willattack viciously and are dangerous enemies. The hunter who wounds apolar bear without first taking the precaution to prepare for defense orretreat, tries an exceedingly dangerous experiment.


Quick as a flash Bobby raised his gun to his shoulder

This was exactly what Bobby had done. The instant he fired the shot herealized that he had not reached a vital spot. In his eagerness tosecure the bear he took the chance of his single bullet disabling it. Areckless game it was, but he played it and lost.

Jimmy was unarmed and Bobby had no time to reload, for he knew the bearwould charge immediately.

"Run, Jimmy! Run for your life!" he shouted.

But Jimmy needed no warning. He was already putting into action all thespeed he could muster, and away went Bobby, also.

Jimmy chose the open space nearer the shore, Bobby a more direct, thoughmore obstructed, course across the island, but both took the generaldirection of camp. As the two diverged the bear, probably because he wasmore plainly in view, chose to follow Jimmy, and followed him sostrenuously and with such singleness of purpose that he was presentlyat Jimmy's very heels—so close at his heels, indeed, that had Jimmystopped or hesitated or lessened his speed for an instant, theinfuriated beast would have been upon him.

Bobby was quick to discover that the bear had left his own trail, and hewas also quick to discover Jimmy's imminent danger. There was no otherhelp at hand. If Jimmy was to be saved, he must save him. The thoughtcrossed his mind like a flash of lightning. He did not lose hishead—Bobby never lost his head in an emergency. He thought ofeverything. He feared there was not time to reload, but it was the onlything to do. As he ran he drew two shells, loaded with ball, from hispocket. For the fraction of a minute he halted, "broke" his gun, droppedthe shells into place, snapped the gun back and threw it to hisshoulder, but in the brief interval that had elapsed the bear and Jimmyhad so far gained upon him that the distance between him and the bearloomed up before him now as almost hopelessly long. If he only had arifle, instead of his shotgun! But it was the last hope, and whisperinga prayer to God to send the bullet straight, with nerves as tense assteel, he pulled the trigger.

His heart leaped with joy as he saw the bear stop, bite again at thewound, this time near its hind quarters, and then with a roar of rageturn from Jimmy toward himself.

He would not risk another shot at that distance. He would wait now forhis enemy to come to close quarters, and with nimble fingers he slippeda loaded shell into the empty barrel, that when the time came to shoothe might have two bullets at his disposal instead of one. He had neverfelt so perfectly cool and steady in his life, nor so absolutelyunafraid, as now, while he stood erect and waited.

The bear was not twenty feet away when he fired his first shot. Itstaggered, shook its head for a moment, and then rushed on. Bobby drew acareful bead and fired again. The bear fell forward, pawed the rocks,regained its feet, and lunged at Bobby.

CHAPTER XI

WHEN THE ICEBERG TURNED

But the bear had spent its vitality, and as Bobby sprang nimbly aside itfell at the very spot upon which the young hunter had stood when hedelivered his last shot, struggled a little, gave a gasp or two, anddied. And when Jimmy came running up a moment later Bobby with greatpride was standing by the side of his prostrate victim.

"We got him, Jimmy! We got him!" said he in high glee, touching thecarcass with his toe.

"But, Bobby, what a chance you took!" Jimmy exclaimed. "Supposing youhadn't stopped him!"

"No chance of that at all," declared Bobby in his usual positive tone."All I wanted was time to load, and I knew I'd get him."

"Well, I'm thankful you got him, instead of he getting you, and I wasafraid for a minute he was going to get us both," and Jimmy breathedrelief, as he placed his foot against the dead bear. "My, but he's a bigone! I don't think I ever saw a bigger one!"

"He is a ripper!" admitted Bobby proudly. "Won't the folks be glad!"

And Bobby was justified in his pride. He had fired upon the beast inthe first instance, not through the lust of killing but because he wasprompted to do so by the instinct of the hunter who lives upon theproduct of his weapons. In this far northern land it is the instinct ofself-preservation to kill, for here if man would live he must kill.

In Labrador they butcher wild animals for food just as we butcher steersand sheep and hogs for food, and the only difference is that the wildcreature, matching its instincts and fleetness and strength against thehunter's skill, has a reasonable chance of escape, while our domesticanimals, deprived of liberty, are driven helpless to the slaughter.

In our kindlier clime the rich soil, too, produces vegetables and fruitsupon which we might do very well, if necessary, without ever eatingmeat; but in the bleak land where Bobby and Jimmy lived the summer isshort and the soil is barren, and there are no vegetables, and no fruitssave scattered berries on the inland hillsides. And so it is that heremen must depend upon flesh and fish for their existence and they mustkill if they would live.

Every lad on The Labrador, therefore, is taught from earliest youth totake pride in his profession of hunter and trapper and fisherman—for onThe Labrador every man is a professional hunter and trapper andfisherman—and to strive for skill and the praise of his elders, andBobby was no exception to the rule.

And so it came about that Bobby at the age of thirteen proved himself abold and brave hunter, and standing now over the carcass of his victimhe felt a vast and consistent pride in his success; for it was no smallachievement for a lad of his years to have killed, single-handed andpoorly armed, a full grown polar bear. It was an accomplishment, indeed,in which a grown man and a more experienced hunter than Bobby might havetaken pride; and a grown man could scarcely have employed bettertactics, or shown greater skill and courage, after the first foolhardyshot had been fired.

But this was Bobby's way. It was an exhibition of his old trait ofgetting himself and Jimmy into a scrape and then by quick action andpractical methods getting them safely out of it again.

Skipper Ed and Abel had heard the reports of Bobby's gun, and they knewthat something unusual was on foot. The first shot did not disturb them.That, they knew, was for the seal for which Bobby had taken the gun. Butno self-respecting seal will remain as a target to be fired atrepeatedly, and the shots that followed told their practiced ears thatmore important game than a seal was the object of the fusillade. And so,without parley, each seized his rifle, and together they set out acrossthe island, and thus it happened that presently they came upon Bobby andJimmy admiring the prize.

"Jimmy and I got a bear! A ripping big one, too!" said Bobby as the twomen came up to them, giving Jimmy equal credit, for if he was positive,Bobby was also generous, and wished his friend to share in the glory ofhis triumphs and achievements.

"Bobby got him alone," corrected Jimmy. "I legged it, and if it hadn'tbeen for Bobby he'd have caught me."

"Oh, you know better than that," protested Bobby. "You got in his way,so he'd take after you, and that gave me time to load, and shoot him."

"Peauke! Peauke!" exclaimed Abel. "A fine fat bear."

"Good for you, Bobby!" commented Skipper Ed, looking the carcass over."I never killed as big a bear as that myself. Good work!"

"And we'll have some meat now, and won't have to eat just fish allsummer," said Bobby, who had the respect of most healthy boys for hisstomach.

"We'll feast like kings," agreed Skipper Ed. "Flesh as well as fish.Great luck! Great luck! And I'll be bound not another lad of your agecould have got a bear like that with just a shotgun. Why, neither Abelnor I would have tackled him with just a shotgun. No, sir, we wouldn't!"

And Skipper Ed put it to Abel, who declared he never would have risked ashotgun unless he had a spear, also, to protect himself.

Deftly and quickly they skinned and dressed the carcass, wasting no partof the flesh, save the liver, which they fed to the dogs, for, as everyone knows, the liver of the polar bear is poisonous and unfit for humanconsumption.

"I could eat a steak right now," suggested Bobby, when the meat wasstowed.

But there was no time now to cook bear steaks, for a breeze had sprungup and they must needs take advantage of it, and Skipper Ed and Jimmyhad already hoisted sail.

"Never mind," said Abel, "I'll show you! I'll show you!" and with an airof mystery, and chuckling to himself, Abel hurriedly gathered some flatstones which he piled into the boat.

"Now," suggested Abel, when they were at last moving, "you take thetiller, Bobby, and we'll see about the bear steaks."

With much care he proceeded to arrange the stones in the bottom of theboat until presently a very excellent fireplace was built, and soarranged that the boat itself was well protected. No wood save driftwoodwas to be found on Itigailit Island or on the near-by shores, andtherefore both Abel's boat and Skipper Ed's boat had been provided withsufficient firewood to meet the needs of their camp for several days.And so, with fuel at hand, Abel quickly had a cozy fire blazing in hisfireplace and Mrs. Abel, laughing and enjoying the novel experience ofcooking in a boat, had some tea brewing and some bear's steaks sizzlingin the pan in a jiffy.

Skipper Ed's trap boat, though a fine sea craft, was not so fast asailer in a light breeze as Abel's, and though Skipper Ed and Jimmy hadleft the island some little time in advance the boats were now so closethat Abel could make himself heard, and standing in the bow he bawled:

"Pujolik! Pujolik!" (A steamer! A steamer!)

A steamship in these waters was uncommon. No steamer had ever come intothe bay, indeed—for they were still in the bay—at least within thememory of man, and eager to see what manner of ship it might be SkipperEd and Jimmy were on their feet in an instant, eagerly searching theeastern horizon.

Abel was immediately convulsed with laughter, and Mrs. Abel laughed, andBobby laughed, and when Skipper Ed and Jimmy, failing to discover thesteamer, or any signs of it, turned inquiringly back toward Abel, stillstanding in the bow, Abel pointed to the smoke rising from the fire, andrepeated:

"Pujolik! Pujolik!"

Then Skipper Ed and Jimmy understood, and they laughed too. It was agreat joke, Abel thought, and for an hour afterward he indulged atintervals in quiet chuckles, and even after the two boats had drawnalongside, and tea and fried bear's steaks had been passed to Skipper Edand Jimmy, that they too might share in the feast, Abel laughed.

It was noon the following day when the boats drew up to the old landingplace on Itigailit Island, and an hour later the two tents were pitchedon Abel Zachariah's old camping ground, and everything was as snug andsettled, and they were all as perfectly at home, as though they had beenliving there for months.

Then the dogs in the skiffs were brought ashore and released from theirtwo days' confinement, and Abel's train and Skipper Ed's train, afterthe manner of Eskimo dogs, immediately engaged in a pitched battle. Theybegan by snarling and snapping at one another with ugly, bared fangs,and then followed a rush toward each other and they became a rolling,tumbling mass of fearsome, fighting creatures, and had to be beatenasunder with stout sticks before they could be induced to settle intotheir quiet and uneventful summer existence.

When all was arranged Bobby, after his custom, walked quietly back tothe cairn which he had built in previous summers to mark the grave ofthe mysterious man that Abel and Mrs. Abel had buried so many yearsbefore, and Jimmy went with him.

"I often wonder," said Bobby, as he replaced some stones that winterstorms had loosed, "who the man was and how he came by his death. Iremember I called him Uncle Robert, but I can't remember much else abouthim, and that is like a dream."

"I wonder if he really was your uncle?" suggested Jimmy.

"I don't know," said Bobby. "I try to remember, until my head isspinning with it, and sometimes it seems as though I am going toremember what happened away back there. It's just as though I had livedbefore, and I think of bright lights, and beautiful things, andwonderful people. I wonder if Father and Mother are right, and what Iremember is heaven? Do you think so, Jimmy?"

"I—I wonder, now!" Jimmy's voice was filled with awe. "Maybe you didcome from heaven, Bobby!"

"I don't believe so," and Bobby was practical again. "I don't feel asthough I'd ever been an angel, and I don't look it, do I?"

And he squared his shoulders and laughed his good-natured, infectiouslaugh, in which Jimmy joined, and the two returned to camp.

There was no floe ice on the coast now, but the sea was dotted with manyicebergs, children of the great northern glaciers, drifting southward onthe Arctic current. Some of them were small and insignificant. Otherstowered in massive majesty and grandeur high above the sea, miniaturemountains of ice. Some were of solid white, but the greater part of themreflected marvelous blues and greens and were a riot of beautiful color.

One of the smaller icebergs lying a half mile or so from ItigailitIsland attracted Bobby's attention as he and Jimmy walked back from thecairn.

"See that berg, Jimmy?" he asked.

"The little one close in?"

"Yes. Do you know, I've got an idea. That bear meat won't keep longunless we pack it in ice or salt it, and I'd rather have it fresh thansalted, wouldn't you?"

"Of course I would!" said Jimmy.

"Then let's take your skiff—it's bigger than ours—and go for a load ofice."

"It's dangerous to go digging on icebergs. They're like to turn over,"suggested Jimmy.

"Oh, don't be afraid, now. Come on. There isn't any danger," said Bobby,with impelling enthusiasm. "We can get enough ice to keep the meat freshuntil it's all used up. Come on."

And Jimmy, as was his custom when Bobby urged, agreed. Skipper Ed'sskiff lay at the landing, and arming themselves with an ax the twopulled away unobserved.

It was a small iceberg, perhaps sixty feet in diameter, and rising notmore than twenty feet above the water. Its surface was irregular, andthere were several places where excellent footing could be had. The boatwas directed toward one of these.

"You stay in the boat," said Bobby, seizing the ax, "and I'll go aboardher and cut the ice."

"Be careful," cautioned Jimmy.

"Oh, there's no danger," said Bobby, climbing to the iceberg.

Bobby began chopping off as large pieces as he thought he couldconveniently handle. The ice was exceedingly hard and brittle. It hadfrozen centuries before, under the extremely low temperatures of theArctic regions. It had its beginning, perhaps, in snow deposited in somefar-off Greenland valley. Other snows had come upon it, and still othersnows, until a tremendous weight of snow pressed it, as it froze, into aglass-like hardness.

And all the while the great mass was moving, inch by inch, and slowly,down the long valley toward the sea. Perhaps a century passed, perhapstwo or three, or even more, centuries, before this particular portion ofthe glacier, as these masses of ice between the hills are called,reached the sea and was at last thrust out beyond the land.

And then, one day, with a report like the report of a cannon, itseparated from the mother glacier, slid out into the current, and beganits southward voyage. Months had passed since then—perhaps a year, oreven two or three years—and all the time it had been wasting away inthe water until Bobby and Jimmy found it this July day, off ItigailitIsland.

But neither Bobby as he chopped at the ice, nor Jimmy as he sat in theboat, gave that a thought, if indeed they knew it. They were intent onlyupon gathering enough of the aged ice to preserve the meat of a polarbear.

Neither did they realize that with each stroke of the ax Bobby wasdisturbing the center of gravitation of the iceberg, already delicatelybalanced in the water, until presently Jimmy noticed that the side nexthim was rising—very slowly and deliberately at first.

"Bobby! Look out—the berg's turning!" he shouted in a terrified voice.

Up and up went the side of the iceberg. Bobby was lost to view. Thencame a rush of water, a great deluging wave swamped the skiff, andJimmy went down with a crash and roar of water and crumbling ice in hisears.

CHAPTER XII

ADRIFT ON THE OPEN SEA

As the iceberg turned, great masses of ice, some of them weighing tons,loosened from the main body, and with loud rumbling and roar crashedinto the sea. Bobby, when he realized what was happening, began with allhis energy to scramble up the wall of ice as it rose from the water.

Fortunately it was a small iceberg, and fortunately, also, it turnedslowly and with deliberation and but a short distance, when it againreached its equilibrium, and was still.

Bobby's life had been one of pretty constant peril and adventure, andafter the manner of wilderness dwellers he had learned resourcefulnessand self-possession. It is indeed a part of the daily training of everylad of the wilderness, that he acquire these attributes, until at lastthey become second nature to him, and instinctively he does the thinghe should do when he comes suddenly face to face with unexpecteddangers. And so it was with both Bobby and Jimmy, and thus it came aboutthat Bobby did not lose his head when the iceberg began to turn, andwhen it was again at rest he found himself upon a high pinnacle, withthe seething waters all around him. To be sure, his heart beat faster,and it was but natural that he should be excited, but his nerves werenevertheless under control, and his wits, too.

From his perch upon the iceberg Bobby looked eagerly for Jimmy and theskiff. He feared that some of the ponderous blocks of ice had fallenupon them and crushed them, and the thought made him heart-sick for aninstant.

But presently he saw the skiff, filled with water and smothering in theswell, and a moment later he discovered Jimmy, also smothering in theswell, but swimming vigorously toward the iceberg. This brought him vastrelief. Jimmy was alive and apparently uninjured, and the wholeadventure became to Bobby at once an ordinary occurrence of theirevery-day life, for which he was mightily thankful. To be sure it was anunpleasant and annoying adventure, but they would escape from it, he hadno doubt, none the worse for their experience. And in this frame of mindhe clambered down the slippery sides of the ice hill to a level spot atthe water's edge, shouting in the most matter-of-fact way, as he did so:

"This way, Jimmy! This way! You can climb aboard here!"

In a few strokes Jimmy came alongside, and Bobby, taking his hand,helped him to scramble, shivering, to the ice.

"My, Bobby, but I was glad to see you here!" Jimmy exclaimed through hischattering teeth. "I was afraid you were done for! I was afraid itcarried you under when it turned."

"I was afraid you were done for, too!" and there was thanksgiving inBobby's voice. "How did it happen you got into the water? Did the icehit the skiff?"

"I don't know how it happened," said Jimmy. "I don't think the ice hitthe skiff, but it all came so suddenly I don't know."

"Well, here we are, and out there's the boat, and we've got to get it,"declared Bobby. "I'm going for it."

"No, let me go. I'm wet anyhow, and I'm all right for it," Jimmyprotested. "I might have brought it in with me, but I didn't see it."

"I'm going," declared Bobby, with an accent that left no doubt he was,as he pulled off his clothes, and his sealskin boots. "You've had yourdip, and I'm going to have one now—the first of the year."

"It's pretty cold," Jimmy cautioned. "I've been in, and I'm used to it,and don't mind it."

But Bobby was in, and swimming for the skiff. It was, fortunately, notabove fifty or sixty feet away, for the whole occurrence had taken placewithin a very few minutes' time, and the boat had not yet had time todrift beyond reach.

A few strokes carried Bobby to the submerged skiff. He secured thepainter, which was attached to the bow, and with some hard tuggingreached the iceberg, and climbed up with Jimmy's assistance.

"You'd better take off your things and wring 'em out, while I dress,"Bobby suggested, as he drew his clothes on.

"I guess I had," Jimmy agreed.

"Now," said Bobby, when he and Jimmy were dressed, after Jimmy had wrungas much of the water as possible from his clothes, "we're going to havea hard time of it getting the water out of her. How'll we do it?"

"Can't we get her alongside and turn her over?" Jimmy suggested. "We canpull her up empty."

With some mighty pulling and hauling, and many futile efforts, they atlength succeeded, and presently the skiff was in the water again andfloating as easily as though nothing had happened and it had never oncebeen under the waves. And then a new problem confronted them.

"The oars! The oars are gone!" exclaimed Jimmy in consternation.

And so they were. Nowhere could they discover the oars, though theyclambered up the iceberg again and scanned the surrounding sea.

"Well," said Bobby, "that's hard luck! I wonder if we can't make fatheror some one hear. Let's get up on top and yell."

From the top of the iceberg they shouted and shouted, but Mrs. Abel wasin one tent, busied with her household affairs, and Skipper Ed and Abelwere in the other tent, making ready their fishing gear, and the breezeblew from the land, and altogether no one heard the shouting.

"No use," said Bobby at last, descending to the skiff. "I'll tell youwhat we'll do. We'll knock one of the seats out, split it, and make twopaddles. They'll be short, but they'll do us to get ashore. It isn'tfar."

"It looks as though it's the only thing to do, unless we want to stayhere for three or four hours," agreed Jimmy, taking the ax and knockingout the seat. "I'm shivering cold from my wetting."

"It's lucky I hung to the ax," said Bobby, as he watched Jimmyfashioning the paddles.

"There," said Jimmy at length, "they're pretty short paddles, but we'llhave to make 'em do. Let's get off of this."

But the tide was running out, and a very strong tide it proved, and thebreeze from the land was stiff enough, too, had there been no opposingtide, to have made pulling against it with a good pair of oars no easytask. All this they did not realize until they had paddled beyond theshelter of the iceberg, for they had drawn the boat up upon its leeside.

They put all the energy they could muster into their effort, but thepaddles were very short and very narrow, and work as they would theypresently discovered that tide and wind were mastering them, and insteadof progressing toward Itigailit Island they were drifting seaward.

"We can't make it!" said Jimmy at last.

"No," agreed Bobby. "We'll have to go back to the berg and wait for themto come for us."

But even that they could not accomplish. Work as they would, thepaddles proved hopelessly inefficient, and after an hour's desperateeffort they realized that they were nearly as far to seaward from theiceberg as the iceberg was from Itigailit Island.

"Well," said Bobby, at length, "we're in for it, and a fine fix it is."

"What are we going to do?" asked Jimmy. "We've got to do something."

"I wish that I had some of that bear meat. I'm as hungry as the old bearever was," said Bobby, irrelevantly.

"Well, so am I, but we'll be hungrier than the bear ever was, I'mthinking, if we don't do something to get to land," broke in Jimmy withsome irritation. "Why, Bobby, don't you realize what it means? We've gotno water and nothing to eat! We'll perish of thirst and hunger if wedon't get to land! Unless a sea rises and swamps us, and then we'lldrown!"

"It does look as though we were drifting to the place I came from, butit won't do any good to worry," said Bobby. "Maybe when the tide turnswe can do something. The wind goes down with the sun every evening, andthen with the tide in our favor maybe we can make it."

"It'll be a good hour yet before the tide turns, and two or three hoursbefore sundown, and where'll we be then?" argued Jimmy, dejectedly. "Iwish I could be like you, Bobby, and not worry over things the way Ido."

"Well, just remember that we did the best we could to get out of themess after we got into it, and if we keep on doing our best that is allwe can do, and worrying won't help us any. I just feel like beingthankful that you weren't killed and we're both here safe and sound,with an even chance that we'll get back home all right."

And so, paddling, drifting, sometimes silent for a long while, sometimestalking, the time passed. The land faded upon the horizon and was lost.Icebergs lay about them. Once they were startled by the thunderous roarof a monster berg in the distance as it toppled and turned upon itsside, and later they felt its swell. Not far away a whale spouted.

Finally the sun set, and the wind died, and for a little while theheavens and icebergs and sea were marvelously and gloriously paintedwith crimson and purple and orange.

Then came the long gray twilight of the North, and at last the stars,and night, and darkness, with the icebergs, white, spectral, and coldlymajestic, rising in silhouette against the distant sky, and thethrobbing, restless sea, somber and black, around them.

CHAPTER XIII

HOW THE "GOOD AND SURE" BROUGHT TROUBLE

The two or three hours of the midsummer Labrador night were long hoursfor Bobby and Jimmy—the longest hours they had ever experienced. Atintervals, guiding their course by the stars, they paddled, and thisdrove away the deadening chill that threatened to overcome them.

But at last dawn came, and with the growing light the sense ofhelplessness which had enveloped them during the period of darkness fellaway, and to some extent Bobby's confidence, hopefulness, and buoyancyof spirits returned, and he rallied Jimmy, also, into a better frame ofmind.

"Hurrah!" shouted Bobby, at length. "See there, Jimmy!"

And Jimmy, looking, saw upon the western horizon a long, gray line.

"Why, there's the land!" he exclaimed.

"Isn't it great to see it again!" said Bobby.

"Let's paddle hard, and see if we can't make it. The tide's beendrifting us in, and the paddling we've done in the night has beenhelping."

"It didn't seem to, but it must have," agreed Jimmy, working as hard ashe could with his short paddle. "The exercise kept me warm, and that'sabout the only good I thought it was doing, but it did help, didn't it?"

"It certainly did," agreed Bobby. "My, but I'm hungry!"

"So am I," said Jimmy. "Won't the sun feel good when it rises?"

"I wonder which way we lie from home?"

"South, of course, for that's the drift of the current. All the bergsdrift south."

"Yes, but how far?"

"Oh, I don't know, but we must be some bit south of the island."

And so they calculated and chatted, while the glow grew in the easternsky, and until the sun rose, at last, to comfort them and warm stiffenedfingers and chilled bodies. But with the sun a westerly breeze also setin to retard them, and their progress was tedious and slow.

The shore still lay a long way off, though a little nearer than whenthey first discovered it in the morning light, and Bobby had justremarked that they had gained a little, when Jimmy suddenly ceasedpaddling, and rising to his feet gazed eagerly to the southward.

"What is it?" asked Bobby. "What do you see?"

"A sail! A sail!" Jimmy almost shouted a moment later. "I wasn't sure atfirst, but now I'm certain!"

Bobby was on his feet in an instant, and the two, balancing themselvesdexterously while the skiff rose and fell upon the swell, watchedexcitedly as the sail increased in size.

"It's a schooner!" said Jimmy.

"And it'll pick us up!" said Bobby.

"If it doesn't pass too far to windward to see us," suggested Jimmy.

"They'll be sure to see us," insisted the optimistic Bobby. "They can'tpass between us and the land without seeing us."

And so it came to pass. Nearer and nearer the schooner drew, until atlength her whole black hull was visible, and then Bobby and Jimmy tookoff their jackets and waved them and waved them, until presently mencrowded at the rail of the schooner and waved in answer, and in duetime, when the schooner came abreast of them, a boat was lowered, andpointed directly toward them.

"Now we'll be all right," said Bobby, with immense relief, as theywatched the four long oars, pulled by four husky men, rise and fall andglint in the sunshine, while a fifth man sculled astern. "They'll eitherdrop us in at Itigailit Island or lend us oars for the skiff!"

"Yes, and it's great luck for us that they saw us," remarked Jimmy. "Idon't believe we ever could have made land with these short paddles."

"The first thing I want is something to eat and drink," declared Bobby."I'm getting hungrier every minute."

But the boat was upon them already, and they were soon to have a plentyto eat, and the adventure after all had amounted to nothing but a littleinconvenience. It was all in a day's work, and already they hadforgotten the dismal night, or if they had not in fact forgotten it theyhad at least put it behind them as an experience of small importance.

"Look sharp now, lads!" shouted the man at the sculling oar, as the boatand the skiff, rising and falling upon the swell, approached each other."Look sharp! Now, heave her, b'y!"

And Jimmy, in the bow of the skiff, with coiled painter ready, tossed itto one of the men. The boats were straightened out, the skiff drawnalongside, and in a moment Jimmy and Bobby were aboard, with SkipperEd's skiff trailing behind.

"Why, it's Skipper Ed's partner an' Abel Zachariah's lad! My eyes! Myeyes now! And whatever brings you driftin' around the sea at this timeof the mornin', and with nary an oar?" exclaimed the man astern, whoproved to be Captain Higgles of the Newfoundland fishing schooner Goodand Sure, who for as long as the lads could remember had anchored forat least one night each summer on his outward voyage down north, or onhis homeward voyage south, in the shelter of the island upon whichSkipper Ed had always fished, or behind Itigailit Island. And so ithappened that Captain Higgles recognized Bobby and Jimmy, and theyrecognized him.

"Oh," explained Bobby, "we were getting ice off a berg yesterday, whenshe shifted and turned us over and we lost our oars."

"Yesterday, was it? And so you young scallawags ha' beencruisin' aboutsince yesterday, eh, with nary an oar. Now listen t' that, b'ys!Cruisin' around with nary an oar! My eyes! Oh, my eyes!" and the captainroared with laughter, as though it were a great joke, and the fourseamen laughed with him.

"And neither of you'd be eatin' a biscuit, an'drinkin' a mug o' tea,now, if you had un!" he continued. "I'll be bound both o' you youngdaredevils'd turn up your nose at a mug o' tea and a biscuit, now.Wouldn't ye?"

"No, sir," said Jimmy, "we wouldn't turn up our nose at anything good toeat."

"I could eat the oarlocks this minute!" broke in Bobby.

At which Captain Higgles exclaimed, "My eyes! Oh, my eyes!" and indulgedin another burst of hearty guffaws.

"Well, b'ys," said the captain, "I know how you feels, an' I knows whereyou'll get th' tea and th' biscuit. An' th' cook aboard th' Good an'Sure'll show you."

"Thank you," said Bobby.

'"Twere lucky I sees you," continued the captain. "There's a sick ladwith a rash aboard, an' it's a wonderful troublesome rash, and makes hesick. I were just turnin' in t' see Skipper Ed, thinkin' he might knowwhat t' do for the little lad t' relieve he, when we sights you."

"What, sir!" exclaimed Jimmy, "are we as far south as that?"

"Aye," said the captain, "we're just t'th' s'uth'ard o' Skipper Ed's fishin' place. An' weren't you comin' from there when you goes adrift?"

"No, sir," explained Jimmy. "Partner and I are down at Itigailit Islandwith Abel Zachariah this year, and we went adrift from there."

"An' there we goes, then!" said the captain. "Another hour's sail, buttime saved. Lucky for you that we sights you, an' lucky for th' sicklad, an' lucky for me—lucky all around. My eyes! 'Tis like t' be alucky day."

And so it came about that Bobby and Jimmy were presently aboard theGood and Sure, satisfying an accumulated and vast appetite uponCaptain Higgles' good hardtack and tea, while the schooner laid hercourse for Itigailit Island.

An hour later, as the captain had predicted, the Good and Sure came tooff Abel Zachariah's fishing place, and almost before the anchor chainshad ceased rattling Skipper Ed and Abel pulled alongside in a boat andwere expressing their relief upon the safe return of the two lads, whosesudden and unexplained disappearance had puzzled them and caused them adeal of worry.

"I finds th' young scallawags driftin' around th' sea, andbearin' nocourse whatever," explained Captain Higgles, "an' I picks un up assalvage. But I don't want un. My eyes! I don't want un. I don't want anysuch two scallawags as they about the Good an' Sure. They'd be causin'me no end o' trouble, and you can have un free o' charge if you'll buttake a look at a sick lad I has below, sir, an' tell us what t' do forun. 'Tis Hen. Blink's lad, sir. He has a wonderful rash all over he—myeyes, 'tis a wonderful rash, and it makes th' lad sick."

Skipper Ed followed the captain to the cluttered little cabin, and Abeland Jimmy and Bobby, curious to see the wonderful rash, also followed.

The lad, a boy of ten years or thereabouts, was stretched upon a bunk,and he was indeed afflicted with a wonderful rash. The moment Skipper Edset eyes upon him his face assumed a very grave expression. He askedseveral questions, which the child's mother answered, and then he askedthe boy:

"How you feeling, little lad?"

"Terrible sick," answered the boy, "but I'd be fine if I could go abovedeck, sir."

"'Twill never do for you to go above deck with this rash," said SkipperEd, "but there'll be better luck by and by, lad; better luck, lad."

And then he directed the mother to give the child no cold drink, to keephim below decks, and not on any account to permit him to become chilleduntil the rash had disappeared and he felt quite well and normal again.To this he added some simple directions as to food.

"Is I goin' t' die?" asked the boy anxiously.

"No, no, lad, not if you do as your mother tells you, now. You'll beall right, but it'll be some time. Can't weigh your anchor and hoistyour sails for a little while. Better luck by and by, though."

"What's th' matter with un, Skipper?" asked Captain Higgles when theywere again on deck.

"Measles," answered Skipper Ed.

"Measles! Measles!" exclaimed the Captain in instant consternation. "Myeyes! Oh—my—eyes! And we're all like to cotch measles! And measleskills folks! Oh—my—eyes! 'Tis like t' ruin th' v'yage!"

"'Tis too bad, but it can't be helped," Skipper Ed sympathized. "The ladhas the measles, and if any of you haven't had measles you're likely toget 'em now. The only thing for you to do if any one breaks out with therash, is to treat him just as I said to treat the boy. Don't let 'em goout or get chilled till the rash is well."

"My eyes!" said Captain Higgles. "Measles! 'Tis a wonderful dangerouscomplaint. I minds when th' folks cotched un one summer in Black RunHarbor, and most every one that cotched un died! Oh, my eyes!"

"Aye, 'tis like t' be a dangerous complaint down here on The Labrador,where we folk have poor means for caring for our sick," agreed SkipperEd, dropping into the dialect of the people, as he often did whenconversing with them. "But you have a schooner, and you're not so badlyoff as we are in our tents."

"My eyes!" repeated Captain Higgles. "Measles! 'Tis like t' ruin th'v'yage!"

The Good and Sure spread her canvas and sailed away that morning, andquite as though nothing had occurred to disturb the even tenor of theirevery-day existence Abel Zachariah and Skipper Ed and Bobby and Jimmyturned their attention to jigging cod, and Mrs. Abel to splitting thefish and spreading them to dry, and all worked from morning until nighteach day, that none of the harvest might be lost, for that year therewas a plentiful run of fish.

But Skipper Ed had something on his mind. After the departure of theGood and Sure his face looked troubled, and more than once hemurmured, "Better luck, I hope. Better luck." And as the days passed hisanxiety increased, and Bobby and Jimmy frequently surprised him lookingintently at them.

Then came a morning when Bobby complained of feeling ill, and Skipper Eddirected that he must not go with the others of them to jig, but mustremain in the tent, and he prepared a hot drink for Bobby, and wrappedthe lad warmly in blankets. That very day Jimmy, too, fell ill, and Abelfell ill, and a day later Mrs. Abel also complained. "Measles," saidSkipper Ed.

And measles it was, and a serious condition of affairs confrontedSkipper Ed. He gave up his fishing and devoted his whole attention tohis four patients, and he thanked the Lord that he himself had passedthrough the ordeal as a child, and was immune.

Because the people on the Labrador can seldom be brought to understandthat a patient with this ailment must be kept warm and free fromexposure or chill until the period of rash is passed, it is too often afatal disease there—and an epidemic is sure to result in many deaths.In tent life, in time of gales and driving storms, it is frequentlydifficult, and sometimes indeed impossible, to properly care for thepatients, for the tents of the people are seldom stormproof orrainproof.

And so it was that Skipper Ed, who was not only nurse but cook, was morethan occupied. There were times when confinement grew irksome to hispatients, and at those times he was compelled to resort even to force toprevent one or another from going out into the chilling sea breeze. Andone morning Bobby did evade him and go out, and became chilled, and thefollowing day lay, as Skipper Ed verily believed, at the door of death.

CHAPTER XIV

VISIONS IN DELIRIUM

There came a terrible day and night when Bobby's life hung in thebalance. A burning fever was upon him. His reason wandered, and hetalked of strange things.

"Mamma! Mamma!" he called, and time and again he plead: "Uncle Robert,give me a drink of water! Uncle Robert, I'm so thirsty! Oh, I'm sothirsty!"

And then it would be Abel Zachariah or Mrs. Abel, or Jimmy, or SkipperEd himself, who was addressed. Every subject under the sun was runningthrough Bobby's poor, delirious mind. Sometimes he spoke in Eskimo,sometimes in English. "Father!" he would cry, "see this cod. He's a fineone! We'll have a fine catch this season." And so he would ramble alongabout the fishing for a time, and then perhaps grow silent, only toresume, upon some other thought.

After each brief silence there was something new. Perhaps he was warningJimmy to run, or declaring that he knew he could get the bear if he onlyhad time to load. Or perhaps he was telling Mrs. Abel that he was tired,oh, so tired, and begging her to sing a lullaby to him as she used to dowhen he was little.

Skipper Ed, foreseeing this state of affairs, had removed his otherpatients, who were now convalescing, to his own tent, where he gave themstrict instructions as to their conduct, and such casual attention as hecould. But for the most part he remained with Bobby. Indeed, during theday and night of Bobby's delirium he scarcely left Bobby's side for aninstant. And more than once during this period of vigil and fear andforeboding Skipper Ed fell upon his knees and poured out his soul to theGreat Master in an appeal for his young friend's life.

It was near sunrise on the second morning of his delirium that Bobbysuddenly ceased to speak and lay very quiet—so quiet that an awfuldread came into Skipper Ed's heart. He leaned over the still form andwith fearful apprehension listened for breathing that he could not hear,and felt for heart beats that were too faint for his discovery.

And then again he fell upon his knees, for he was a God-fearing man andhe had the love of God in his heart, and he prayed that if it were nottoo late God in His goodness would again place the breath of life intoBobby and return him to them. He prayed aloud, and as he prayed thetears ran down his weather-beaten cheeks.

At last he rose. Bobby's face had assumed an unnatural, peaceful repose.The color had left the cheeks that had been fever flushed for so long.The lips were partly open, and there was no movement or sign of life.

Skipper Ed staggered to the tent front, and thrusting the flaps asidestaggered out. The world lay quiet and serene, as though it held nogrief. The waves lapped gently against the rocks. The sky was afire withradiant beauty.

For a long while Skipper Ed stood there, his face drawn and haggard,his tall form bent, uncertain which way to turn or what to do. Presentlythe fire faded from the sky, a breeze sent a ripple over the calmwaters, and the big sun rose out of the sea, as though to ask him why hemourned. And then he whispered, "Thy will be done. If it is Thy will totake him from us, oh God, give us the strength and courage to accept ourbereavement like men."

Then it was that a new, strange peace came upon Skipper Ed, and hereentered the tent, to stoop again over Bobby's couch, and as he did sohis heart gave a bound of joy, and a lump came into his throat. Bobbywas breathing—ever so softly—but breathing.

With the passing minutes the steady, regular breathing became moreapparent, the pulse asserted itself and grew stronger, and at the end ofan hour, when Bobby at last opened his eyes Skipper Ed saw that reasonhad returned to them.

"I've—been—asleep—dreaming—queer—dreams," Bobby murmured faintly.

"Yes," said Skipper Ed, "you've been asleep."

"I—feel—very—weak."

"Yes, you're very weak, for you've been very sick, lad," and Skipper Ed,choking back his emotion, added cheerily: "But there's better luck foryou now, lad. Better luck."

"May—I—have—a—drink?"

Skipper Ed poured some water into a tin cup, and supporting Bobby'shead, held the cup to his parched lips.

"Father—and mother—and Jimmy—where—are—they?" Bobby feebly asked,for even in sickness his eye was quick to note their absence.

"They're in my tent. Nearly well, but not well enough to go out and getchilled, though they're ready enough for it, and tired enough of stayingin," said Skipper Ed.

And then, wearied with the exertion, Bobby fell into deep andstrength-restoring slumber, and Skipper Ed joined the others to cheertheir hearts with the good news that Bobby's illness had passed itsclimax, and to rejoice with them over a meager breakfast.

With the passing days Bobby grew rapidly stronger, and the others wereable to be out and at their duties again. And in due time Bobby, too,was out on the rocks enjoying the sunlight, with his old vigor dailyasserting itself.

But hours of sunshine were few now, and more often than not the sky wasleaden and somber, and the wind blew raw and cold, and already theclouds were spitting snow. The fishing season had passed almost beforethey realized it. The weeks of idleness had been costly ones, and whenthe time came for them to return to the cabins at the head of Abel'sBay, and make ready for winter, they had garnered little of the harvestthat had promised so well.

"Every season can't be a good one for us," remarked Skipper Ed as theystruck their camp. "Better luck next year; better luck. And we should bemighty thankful we're all alive and all well. That's good luck—goodluck, after all."

But they were to be denied many things that winter that the fish theyhad not caught would have brought them. The little luxuries in whichthey had always indulged occasionally were not to be thought of; andpork, which is almost a necessity, was to become a rarity and a luxuryto them, and there were to be times when even the flour barrel would beempty.

But this was a part of the ups and downs of their life, and one and allthey accepted the condition cheerfully, for who, they said, does nothave to endure privations now and again? And they had always done verywell in other years, and the needs of life are small; and so they had nocomplaint to make. Comfort and privation are, after all, measuredlargely by contrast, and what to them would have been comfortable andluxurious living would have seemed to you and me little less thanunendurable hardship.

Bobby and Jimmy were as glad, now, to return to the snug cabins as theyhad been to set out for Itigailit Island in the summer, and as theylooked back over the few short weeks, the July day when they had theiradventure with the bear seemed to them a long, long while ago.

And when the boats were loaded Bobby ran up to say good-bye for aseason to the cairn and the dead man mouldering beneath it, and to thewide open sea, and the misty horizon out of which he had drifted, andthen they hoisted sail and were off.

Another long winter with its bitter cold and drifting snow, its joys andits hardships and adventures, was at hand.

CHAPTER XV

MAROONED IN AN ARCTIC BLIZZARD

That was indeed a winter of bitter cold and of almost unexampledseverity. It came suddenly, too, and with scant warning, as we shallsee, and a full fortnight in advance of the time when it should havecome.

Abel and Skipper Ed took Jimmy with them that year upon their autumnseal hunt. It was deemed wise to leave Bobby behind with Mrs. Abel,despite his protest. Though he was willing enough to remain when Mrs.Abel declared that because of her recent illness she wished some one tostay at home and assist her, for she did not feel equal to the task,unassisted, of making things snug for the winter. And of course therewas none but Bobby to stay.

And so it came about that Bobby, with many longings and regrets, thoughcheerful enough withal, stood down on the beach one frosty Septembermorning and watched Abel Zachariah and Skipper Ed and Jimmy sail awayfor the hunt, while he comforted himself with the thought that anotheryear he, too, would go.

Indeed, he had already taken part in the spring hunt, and though he gaveno hint that he had guessed what was in their minds, he knew well enoughthat the plea that he was needed at home to assist Mrs. Abel at the workwas a subterfuge of his foster parents, instigated, he had no doubt, bySkipper Ed. He was also satisfied that the real reason why he was leftat home was because they deemed him not yet strong enough, as a resultof his own recent illness, to withstand the unavoidable exposure andhardships to which the seal hunters would be subjected on the open andunprotected coast. And he had to confess to himself that he had notindeed recovered the full measure of his activity and hardihood, andthat there was reason and justice in their course.

A raw wind was blowing, but a fair wind, and in a little while the boat,bowling before the breeze with all sail set, was lost to view. Then,disconsolately, Bobby turned back to the cabin, but Mrs. Abel took goodcare that he was kept so busy that he soon forgot his disappointment inwork.

And that day he and Mrs. Abel had a jolly dinner of boiled goose, andtea, and that evening they sat a full hour beyond their bedtime whileshe recounted to him in her own quaint way the story of his coming fromthe place where mists and storms are born, and told him how he was sentby God to be their son, and how little he was, and how ill he was whenAbel first placed him in her arms, and how she had hugged him to her,and had nursed away his fever, and how glad she and Abel had always beenthat God had sent them a son.

The days passed thus until they lengthened into a week. Though Bobby wascontent enough, it was but natural that he should be a bit lonesome nowand again, and eagerly wish the fortnight gone that yet must passbefore the return of the seal hunters.

The wild geese and ducks were still in flight, coming in great flocksfrom the lakes of the vast unknown interior and from the farther north,on their way to milder southern climes. There were several marshes nearAbel's Bay where the migrating flocks tarried for a time to rest andfeed, and of mornings they would pass with a great roar of wings andloud honking from the bay to these marshes, and at night they wouldreturn.

It was Bobby's custom morning and night to lie in wait for them with hisshotgun, and he always returned to the cabin with as many birds as hecould carry. These were hung in the entrance shed of the cabin, wherethey would freeze and remain fresh and good until needed for the table.And thus he too was doing his part in providing for the long winterwhich was at hand.

The goose-hunting season was always one of great sport for Bobby, butthis year he found it lonesome enough without Jimmy's company. It wasthis loneliness, no doubt, that prompted him, one morning in thebeginning of the second week after the departure of the seal hunters, totake Abel Zachariah's old skiff and pull far down the bay in the hopethat he might kill a seal on his own account. It was a gray day, withleaden clouds hanging low. Patches of snow lay upon the ground. The bay,throbbing with a gentle swell, was somber and dark.

Bobby rowed the old skiff down the bay and past the bird islands nearwhich he and Jimmy had their adventure on the cliff, but no seals wereto be seen, and presently he turned his attention to the numerous seapigeons which were swimming here and there. The young birds were quitefull-grown now, and it was great fun shooting at them and watching themdive and rise again unharmed, though sometimes one would be just afraction of a second too slow and the shot would find it, and then itsdowny body would float upon the water, and Bobby would pick it up anddrop it into the boat and turn his attention to another, which mightescape, or might be added to Bobby's bag.

This was exciting sport—so exciting that Bobby could not bring himselfto give it up until a full two hours past noonday, and even then hewould not have done so had not a rising northeast wind created a chopwhich made shooting from the skiff so difficult and inaccurate that itlost its interest.

Then Bobby discovered that he was possessed of a great hunger, and heran the skiff ashore on a wooded point, and in a snug hollow in the leeof a knoll and surrounded by a grove of thick spruce trees, where he waswell sheltered from the keen northeast wind, he lighted a fire, pluckedand dressed one of the fifteen sea pigeons he had secured, and impalingit upon a stick proceeded to grill it for his dinner.

He was thus busily engaged when snow began to fall. Thicker and thickerit came, but Bobby was well protected and he finished his cooking andhis meal without a thought of danger or concern for his safety. And,when he had eaten, reluctant to leave his cozy fire, he tarried stillanother half hour.

"Well," said he, rising at length, "the snow's getting thick and I'dbetter be pulling back. My! I didn't know it was so late! It's gettingdusk, already, and it'll be good and dark before I get home!"

Then, to his amazement, he discovered when he emerged from hissheltered nook that the wind had risen tremendously, that the cold hadvisibly increased, and that the chop had developed into a considerablesea, and that the snow, too, driving before the wind, was blindingthick.

Bobby was not, however, alarmed, though he realized there was no timeto be lost if he would reach home before the full force of the risingblizzard was upon him, and he chided himself for his delay. But the oldskiff was a good sea boat, and Bobby was a good sea-man, and he pulledfearlessly out upon the wind-swept waters. And here the driving snowsoon swallowed up the land, but Bobby was not afraid, and pulling withall his might turned down before the storm.

For a little while all went well, and Bobby was congratulating himselfthat after all he would reach home before it became too dark to see.Then suddenly a big sea broke over his stern, and left the skiff halffilled with water. This was serious. He could not relinquish the oars tobail out the water. Another such deluge would smother him.

Then he realized that the seas had grown too big for him to weather, andhis one hope was to make a landing. He searched his mind for a sectionof the shore within his reach, sufficiently free from jagged rocks andsufficiently sheltered to offer him a safe landing, and all at once hebethought himself of the bird island where he and Jimmy had gone egging,and which he had visited many times since.

He was, fortunately, very near the island and when he heard the surfbeating upon its rocky shores he determined quickly to make an effort torun upon its lee shore. Here, he argued, he could bail the water fromthe skiff, and then could pull across to the mainland, where he couldhaul up the skiff and walk home. It would be a disagreeable tramp in thestorm, but it was his safest and his only course.

But even in the lee of the island the seas were running high and dashingupon the rocks with such force that for the instant he held off,hesitating. There was no other course, however. The half-submerged skiffwould never live to reach the mainland. With every passing minuteconditions were growing worse.

And so, watching for an opportune moment, Bobby drove for the shore. Aroller carried the skiff on its crest, dropped it with a crash upon therocks, and receded. Bobby sprang out, seized the painter, and runningforward secured it to a bowlder, that the next sea might not carry itaway.

Then, watching his opportunity, little by little and with much tuggingand effort, he drew the skiff to a safe position beyond the waves, andas he did so he discovered that the water which it held ran freely outof it, and that one of its planks had been smashed, and in the bottom ofthe skiff was a great hole.

And there he was, wet to the skin, stranded upon a wind-swept, treelessisland, with a useless skiff and with never a tool—not even an ax—withwhich to make repairs. And there he was, too, without shelter, and thefirst terrible blizzard of a Labrador winter rising, in its fury andawful cold, about him. And whether or not there was any wood about thatcould be gathered with bare hands he did not know. But more importantthan wood was cover from the storm, for without protection from theblizzard Bobby was well aware he could never survive the night.

CHAPTER XVI

A SNUG REFUGE

The weather had suddenly become intensely cold, and Bobby's wetclothing was already stiff with ice. The northeast wind, laden withArctic frost, swept the island with withering blasts, and cut to thebone.

The wind was rising, too, and there was no doubt that with darkness itwould attain the velocity of a gale, and the storm the proportions of asub-Arctic blizzard. Snow was already falling heavily, and presently itwould be driving and swirling in dense, suffocating clouds. Winter hadfallen like a thunderbolt from heaven.

But Bobby never permitted himself to worry needlessly. He was not one ofthose who with the least difficulty plunge into unnecessarydiscouragement and lose their capacity for action. It was not in hisnature to waste his time and opportunities and energies worrying aboutwhat might happen, but what in the end rarely did happen. He conservedhis mental and physical powers, and turned his mind and muscles intovigorous and practical action. And like every fortunate possessor ofthis valuable faculty, Bobby more often than not raised success out offailure.

And so it came to pass that when Bobby found himself cast away upon thenaked rocks of a small and treeless sub-Arctic island, with no shelterfrom the awful cold of a driving blizzard, and with no other tools thanhis hands, he did not give up and say, "This is the end," and then sitdown to wait for the pitiless cold to end his sufferings. What he didsay was:

"Well, here I am in another mess, and I've got to find some way out ofit."

He examined the skiff carefully and the examination satisfied him thatit was too badly injured to be repaired with the means at his command,and so with all his energy he set himself at once to making himself ascomfortable as the conditions and the surroundings would permit.

First he scoured the island for wood, for he knew that presently thestorm and blizzard would rise to such proportions as to render anyefforts to find wood impossible, and any attempt to move about perilous,and therefore no time must be lost.

In a little while he succeeded in collecting a considerable amount ofdriftwood, and when he turned his attention to other things he had theconsolation of knowing that the gale would sweep the snow from the rocksand into the sea, and that any wood that he had overlooked in hissearch, or had no time now to gather, would be left uncovered, where hecould find it when the blizzard was past and he could go abroad again.

He piled his fuel by the side of a big, high, smooth-faced bowlder whichhe had purposely chosen because of its location, not far from the placewhere he had been driven ashore, and on the lee side of the island. Thesmooth face of this bowlder looked toward the water, and with its backtoward the wind it offered a fairly good wind-break, and a considerabledrift had already formed against its face, or sheltered, side, where thesnow lodged as it was driven in swirling gusts around its ends or sweptover its top.

When his wood was gathered, Bobby with much effort dragged the boat tothe rock, and then working hard and fast cleared away the snow as besthe could with the aid of sticks and feet from the smooth rock bed infront of the bowlder, and on which the bowlder rested. He now carriedfrom the innumerable stones lying about upon the wind-swept rocks,sufficient to build at right angles to the bowlder two rough walls abouttwo feet high and as long as the width of the boat. These walls wereperhaps eight feet apart, and when they were finished he raised theboat, bottom up, upon them, the after part of the boat resting upon one,the prow extending over the other, and the side of the boat shoved backflush against the bowlder face.

Thus he made for himself a covered shelter, and the front of this heenclosed with other stones, save for a space three feet wide in thecenter, which he reserved for a door. From low spruce bushes—for therewere no trees on the island—he now gathered a quantity of brush andarranged it under the boat for a bed.

Dusk was settling before these arrangements had been completed. When allwas at length as snug as his ingenuity could make it in the short timeat his disposal, he stored as much of the wood, under the boat as thelimited space would allow and still permit him room to stretch withsome comfort; and as quickly as possible he built a small fire justoutside the door. Already snow had drifted around the ends and on top ofthe boat and his little fire reflecting heat within soon made hiscovered nook comfortable enough.

Fourteen sea pigeons would make fourteen meals, though scant ones for ahusky fellow like Bobby. Now he was hungry enough, as indeed he alwayswas at meal hour and it did not take him long to pluck and dress one ofthe birds, and in short order it was grilling merrily on the end of astick. There was no bread to keep the grilled sea pigeon company, butBobby did not mind in the least. Indeed, this lack of variety was nohardship. He often dined upon meat alone, and now he was thankful enoughto have the sea pigeons, or indeed anything.

But almost before his supper was cooked the little fire, deluged withclouds of snow, dried out and refused to burn, and it became evident toBobby that he must face the night without fire, and resort to othermeans to protect himself in his narrow quarters from freezing. He wasalready ashiver and his hands and feet were numb.

He had no blanket, and no other covering than the wet clothes he wore,and he closed the door of his shelter as best he could with the sticksof driftwood which were stored under the boat. There was nothing else tobe done.

The cold had become intense. The storm demon had broken loose in all itsfury and was lashing sea and land in wild frenzy. The shrieking wind,the dull, thunderous pounding of the waves upon the rocks and the hissof driving snow, filled the air with a tumult that was little less thanterrifying.

No man unsheltered could have survived an hour upon the exposed rocks ofthe blizzard-swept island, and cold and shivering as he was, Bobby gavethanks for his narrow little cover under the boat, which in contrast tothe world outside appealed to him now as an exceedingly snug retreat. Itwas safe for a little while, at least, and here he hoped he might havethe strength to weather the storm in safety.

And while he lay and listened to the roar and tumult of the storm,presently he became aware that he was growing warmer. His shiveringceased. The bitter chill of the first half hour after his fire went outpassed away, and in a little while to his astonishment he discoveredthat he was not after all so uncomfortable.

"The snow must have covered me all up," he exclaimed with suddenenlightenment, "and I'll be at the bottom of a big drift pretty soon,and that's what's making me warm."

It was dark, and he struck a match to investigate, and sure enough,every chink and crevice, even his door, was packed with snow, and not abreath of air stirred within. Gradually the sound of the shrieking windand pounding sea seemed farther and farther away, and he heard it as onehears something in the distance.

"Mother's going to be scared for me," he mused, as he rearranged his bedof boughs. "She'll think I'm lost, and I'm sorry. She'll be all rightwhen I get home, though. It is a fine mess to get into."

Then his thoughts turned to Abel Zachariah and Skipper Ed and Jimmy,somewhere out on the coast and weathering the same storm. But they had atent and a stove, and they would be comfortable enough, he had no doubt.

But there was the seal hunt. Winter had come to cut off the seal hunttwo weeks too soon, and they could scarcely have made a beginning. Thatwas a serious matter. The failure of the fishing season, now coupledwith an undoubted failure of the autumn seal hunt, would pinch themharder than they had ever been pinched before. Without the seals theywould not be able to keep all of their dogs, and the dogs were anecessity of their life.

All of these thoughts passed through Bobby's mind as he lay in the densedarkness of his den. But he was young and he was optimistic, anddisturbing thoughts presently gave way to a picture of the snug littlecabin at the head of Abel's Bay and of its roaring fire in the big boxstove, and with the picture the sound of the storm drew farther andfarther away until it became at last one of Mrs. Abel's quaint Eskimolullabies, that she crooned to him when he was little, and Bobby slept.

And there under the snow drift he slept as peacefully as he could haveslept in his bed at home in the cabin at Abel's Bay, and just aspeacefully as he could ever have slept in a much finer bed in that mistyand forgotten past before he drifted down from the sea to be a part ofthe life of the stern and desolate Labrador.

And so God prepares and tempers us, to our lot, and shows us how to behappy and content, if we are willing, in whatever land He places us,and with whatever He provides for us. And thus He was tempering Bobbyand directing him to his destiny.

CHAPTER XVII

PRISONER ON A BARREN ISLAND

Because his bed of boughs was snug and comfortable, and because therewas nothing else to do and nowhere to go, and it was the best way,anyhow, to spend the hours of imprisonment that would last until theblizzard spent itself, Bobby gave himself the luxury of a long sleep.But even then it was still dark when he awoke, and at first he waspuzzled, for he was sure he had slept away hours enough for daylight tohave come. He could hear the raging storm and pounding seas in a muffledroar, as though far away, while he lay for a little while wondering atthe darkness.

The air had grown close and stifling, and presently he arose and strucka match. It glowed for a moment but refused to burn. He struck anotherand then another, with like result. The matches were perfectly dry, forhe carried them in a small, closely corked bottle. He could notunderstand it in the least. He struck another. It flashed, but like theothers went out.

Then he suddenly remembered that Skipper Ed had once said fire would notburn in air from which the oxygen had been taken, for then the air wouldbe "dead," and that a person would exhaust all the air in a close roomin a short time, and therefore rooms should be well ventilated. And withthis he realized what had happened. His air had been cut off and allthat remained was dead.

The drift had covered his den to a great depth while he slept, and thewind had packed the snow so hard that the air could no longer circulatethrough it.

It was necessary that an opening be made quickly or he would smother,and this he set about to do with all his might. He removed some of thesticks with which he had closed the doorway, and using one of them as atool dug away the snow, until light at last began to filter through, andhe knew it was day, and presently he broke the outer crust of the drift.A flood of pure but bitterly cold air poured in upon him, and hebreathed deeply and felt refreshed.

He had dug his opening straight out from the place which he had arrangedfor a door, and he now made it large enough to permit the passage of hisbody as he crawled upon hands and knees.

The storm had in no degree abated. The velocity of the wind was soterrific that had Bobby not stood in the shelter of the drift-coveredbowlder he could not have kept upon his feet. The air was so filled withdriving snow as to be suffocating. A tremendous sea was running andgreat waves were pounding and breaking upon the rocks with terrificroar, though no glimpse of them could he get through the snow cloudsthat enveloped him.

There was nothing to be done but to return to his burrow and makehimself as comfortable as circumstances would permit. His first carewas to clear away the snow which he had thrown back under the boat ashe dug his way out, and which partially filled his cave. And when thiswas done he selected a sharp stick and with it made three or four airholes in the roof of the drift above his door, to furnish ventilation,for it was not long before the entrance of the passageway was againclosed.

Bobby was very hungry, as every healthy boy the world over is sure to bewhen he rises in the morning, and when he had completed the ventilationof his cave to his satisfaction he proceeded to make a small fire overwhich to grill one of his birds, never doubting the smoke would pass outof the ventilating holes that he had made through the top of the drift.But to his chagrin the smoke did not rise and was presently so thick asto blind and choke him, and he found it necessary to put the fire out.And so it came about that in the end he had to content himself witheating his sea pigeon uncooked, which after all was no great hardship.

All that day and all the next day the storm continued and Bobby was heldprisoner in his cave, and he was thankful enough that he had the cave toshelter him.

When he awoke, however, on the morning of the third day of hiscaptivity, and forced his way out of doors, he was met by sunshine andhis heart bounded with joy. It was only behind bowlders and the clumpsof bushes scattered here and there, and in sheltered corners wheredrifts had formed, that snow remained upon the island. Elsewhere thewind had swept the rocks clean.

The gale that had racked the world had passed, but a brisk breeze wasblowing down from the north, sharp with winter cold. The sea, too, hadsubsided, though even yet big rollers were driving and pounding upon therocky shore.

"Now," said Bobby, "with the first calm night, when the water quietsdown, the bay will freeze, and then I can walk in on the ice. Butthey'll have to hurry in from the seal hunt or they'll be caught outthere and won't be able to bring the boat in this winter. I can stand ita little while, and I hope the freeze-up won't come till they get backhome."

But Bobby lost no time in needless calculation. What was of highestimmediate importance was the satisfaction of his appetite, which asusual was protesting against delay.

He had been eating raw sea pigeon quite long enough, and he proposed nowto enjoy the great treat of a grilled bird. And so without troublinghimself with vain regrets of what he might have done or might not havedone, he proceeded to fetch wood from his cave and to build a fire, anda good one it was to be, too, in the lee of his bowlder. And when thewood was crackling merrily he made a comfortable seat of boughs uponwhich to sit while he cooked and ate the one sea pigeon which he allowedhimself.

Bobby had never eaten a sea pigeon that seemed quite so small as thatone, and it required a large degree of self-denial and self-restraint toobserve the rule of economy which he had imposed upon himself on theevening he was wrecked. He had decided then that two sea pigeons a day,one in the morning and one in the evening, were all he could afford. Forwho could tell how long it might be before he would make his escape? Andthere were no birds or other game to be had on the island at thisseason, and when those he had were gone there would be hungry days toface. Though he declared to himself when picking the last bone of hisbreakfast that he could never possibly be any hungrier than at that verymoment.

Nor could he afford a large fire in future. He calculated that he hadalready collected enough wood to last him, with small and carefullyconstructed fires, one day, and a survey of the island and itspossibilities revealed the fact that all the additional fuel he couldgarner from the rocks would scarcely last him, even with rigid economy,another week.

While confined to his cave during the period of the blizzard he hadsatisfied his thirst with bits of ice. Now his fire was built close to alittle hollow in the rock, and, placing snow near the fire, it melted,and the water running into the hollow settled there, and gave him drink.

And so, making the best of his resources, Bobby prepared for his siege,which he felt quite sure would end only when the bay froze and he couldmake his escape over the ice. A great part of the daylight hours werespent in collecting bits of wood. This kept him exercising, and kepthis blood warm.

Already the sea was smoking. The freeze-up was close at hand. With eachhour the merciless winter cold increased in strength. That evening whenhe entered his cave he closed the entrance with snow, that it might bekept warm, but nevertheless he spent an uncomfortable night, and he wasglad enough to crawl out in the morning and light his fire.

That was a cheerless day. The sun shone through a gray veil, and offeredlittle warmth. There was no more wood to gather, and to save his littlestock he ran up and down upon the rocks that he might drive away thecold with exercise.

The sun was low when he lighted his evening fire, and as he prepared hissea pigeon for supper he remembered with regret that he had but one birdremaining.

"And I've been hungry ever since I've been here," he remarked tohimself. "I'm half starved this minute."

He was thinking a great deal now of what he should have to eat when hereached home, and planning for this and that. And, oh, for some goodhot tea!

And so, thinking, and dreading to go to his cheerless cave, he sat whilehis fire burned low and the sun sank from sight and the long and gloomytwilight gathered.

"I'll spare another stick or two," he said, replenishing the fire. "Ican't go into that hole yet."

The fire blazed up, and the twilight grew thicker, and the fire hadnearly burned out again while Bobby, dreaming of home and Mrs. Abel, andwondering where Abel Zachariah and Skipper Ed and Jimmy were, fell intoa doze. Then it was that something unlooked for startled him into suddenwakefulness.

CHAPTER XVIII

THE WINTER OF FAMINE

Faintly over the waters, but quite loud enough for Bobby to hear, came ahail, and Bobby was on his feet in an instant, shouting with all thepower of his lusty young lungs. Then he ran to his cave and got his gun,and fired three shots at intervals of a few seconds, and with the lastshot listened tense with eagerness and excitement.

This was a signal that he and Jimmy had agreed upon. It meant, "Come! Iwant you," and when at home if Jimmy wished Bobby to come over toSkipper Ed's cabin, or Bobby wished Jimmy to come to Abel Zachariah'scabin, it was the way they called one another. And when the signal washeard, two shots were fired in quick succession to say, "I hear, and Iwill come," or two shots with an interval between, to say, "I hear you,but I can't come." Then it was the duty of the one who had fired thethree shots in the beginning, whether or not his invitation had beenaccepted, to fire a single shot to say: "I hear you and understand."

And so it was that Bobby listened eagerly. If the hail had come from theboat returning from the seal hunt, Jimmy would surely answer.

He had but a moment to wait when two quickly fired shots rang out overthe water. His excitement could scarcely contain itself as he fired oneanswering shot. Everything was working splendidly, after all! They weregetting in from the seal hunt ahead of the freeze-up, and he was toreach home none the worse for his adventure.

Bobby was lavish now with his wood. Darkness was settling and he piledthe wood upon the fire until its flames leaped up into a great blaze asa beacon, to guide the boat to a safe landing among the rocks.

And so it came to pass that Bobby was found and rescued, and he and Abeland Skipper Ed and Jimmy were glad enough to see one another again andto relate to one another their various experiences. And Mrs. Abel,mourning in the cabin, was given great joy, for she had believed thatBobby had been lost without doubt in the storm.

The seal hunt was, as Bobby had feared it would be, almost a failure.But four small seals had been killed when the storm came upon thehunters, and they were forced to retreat, that they might reach homebefore the sea froze. These four seals, together with what remained ofthe meat from the spring hunt, were the only provisions they had for thedogs until February, when they could go to the ice edge, or sena, forthe winter hunt, for then the seals would be on the ice.

Even with scant rations this would be little more than half enough tokeep the animals in serviceable condition, for there were a good manydogs to feed. Abel's two teams, together with an extra dog or two tofill the place of any that might be injured, numbered eighteen, whileSkipper Ed kept seven. This made a total of twenty-five dogs to beprovided for, and twenty-five big wolf dogs will consume a vast amountof food during a winter.

So they held a consultation, and Skipper Ed decided that he could dovery well without dogs if Abel would permit him the use of a team nowand again.

"Partner and I have kept dogs only these last two years, anyhow," saidSkipper Ed. "Our hunting and trapping is chiefly inland, and we haven'tmuch use for them. I don't want to see any of the dogs suffer for thewant of something to eat, and if Partner is willing we'll kill them, andlet you have the carcasses to feed to your teams. What do you say,Partner?"

"We'll kill them." Jimmy agreed, regretfully.

Abel also decided that it would be wise to reduce the number of his owndogs to fifteen, and thus the problem was solved.

Winter settled with almost unexampled cold, and with a succession offearful storms. It was a winter, too, of awful hardship and privation tothe people of the Coast. The Eskimos to the northward depended chieflyupon seals for their own living as well as for dog food, and with them,as with Abel Zachariah and Skipper Ed, the seal hunt was cut off by theearly blizzard, and few seals were killed.

Abel and Skipper Ed, however, relied more largely upon the cod fishing,and it had been their custom for many years to barter away the fish theycaught to trading schooners which visited them for that purpose at theirfishing places before they returned to winter quarters. In this way theyusually purchased sufficient flour and pork, tea and molasses to do themuntil the following spring, and when open water came again they wouldsail to the mission station and purchase with the furs their traps hadyielded them, fresh supplies.

The attack of measles this year, however, had so interfered with theirfishing that their small catch had purchased from the traders scarcelyenough flour and pork and tea to last them until the new year. And soone day late in December Abel and Skipper Ed drove the two dog teamsover to the Nain Mission, expecting to obtain there the supplies theyneeded.

"I'm sorry," said the missionary, "but I can spare you verylittle—almost nothing. The seal hunt was a failure with the people alldown north, and they are starving, and I must take care of them. Thisyear there are so many needy ones our stock will go only a little way.I'll divide it the best way I know how, but, God help the poor folk, itwon't go far, and I'm praying God to send caribou or send seals."

"We'll get on somehow," said Skipper Ed. "The timber is back of us andwe'll get rabbits and partridges, and make out. Give the Eskimos whatyou have. They're on barren ground and don't have the chance we have.There'll be better luck for us all by and by. Better luck."

And with only a half barrel of flour and some tea they returned toAbel's Bay to face the winter and make their fight against naturewithout complaint. For no truly brave man will complain when things gowrong in the game of life. And up there on The Labrador the game of lifeis a man's game and every man who wins must play it like a man, withfaith and courage.

The weeks that followed were trying and tedious ones. Sometimes therewas not much to eat, when the hunting was poor, but they thanked Godthere was always something.

But when February came at last there was not food enough to render itpossible for them to make the long journey to the ice edge with safety.Living now was from hand to mouth. Each day they must hunt for what theywould eat that day. Grouse and rabbits were the game upon which theyusually relied, but Fate had cast this as one of those years when therabbits disappear from the land as it is said they do every nine years.Be that as it may, not one was killed that winter and not a track wasseen. For them to go to the ice without food was too great a risk. Ifthey went and failed to find seals and were overtaken by a storm theywould perish.

This was the condition of affairs when Bobby and Jimmy set out one cold,clear morning to hunt for ptarmigans, the white grouse of the North. Notfar away was a barren hill whose top was kept clean swept of snow by thewinds, and up this hill they climbed, for sometimes ptarmigans are foundin places like this, feeding upon the frozen moss berries which cling tothe rocks.

Bobby was in advance, and from the summit of the hill he scanned thegreat expanse of snow reaching away over the endless rolling country tothe westward. And looking, he discovered in the distance a dark, movingmass slowly drawing down another hillside. For a moment he wasspeechless with joy, but it was for only a moment, and then he shouted:

"Tuktu! Tuktu! Tuktu!" (Caribou, or reindeer.)

Bobby's excited cry brought Jimmy up on a run, and when he looked andsaw, he, too, shouted, and was no less excited than Bobby.

"Caribou! The caribou are coming!"

That was enough to send them back on a run for Abel and Skipper Ed andtheir rifles and all the ammunition they could muster, and then all fourturned back to meet the caribou.

On and on came the great herd, in a far-reaching, endless mass,thousands upon thousands of them, and they were heading directly for thehill where the four eager hunters waited.

At length the mass reached them, and what followed was not a hunt but aslaughter, and when they were through more than a hundred caribou laystretched upon the snow, and still the caribou came.

The period of starvation was at an end. Comfort and plenty had appearedat their very door.

The dogs were harnessed, and as many of the carcasses as they could usefor man and dog food were hauled down, some to Abel Zachariah's cabinand some to Skipper Ed's. And bright and early the following morningAbel set out to the mission station and Skipper Ed to Abraham Moses'cabin, to bid the starving people come and help themselves and feast,and in the end not a caribou of all those that were killed was wasted.

And so it was that the Almighty looked after these children of His, andso He cares for His children even in the wild wastes of Labrador.

"Good luck! Good luck at last!" said Skipper Ed.

CHAPTER XIX

OFF TO THE "SENA"

And so it was that the famine ended. There was small variety for thetable, to be sure, but there was always plenty of good venison, variedwith ptarmigans, and now and again a porcupine. And after all they wereable to go to the ice edge on the winter seal hunt, and a profitablehunt it proved.

Thus the years passed, and thus they were filled with ups and downs andmany adventures and hard work, and withal plenty of good fun, too, toflavor them, as years are bound to be in that land of stern and activeexistence.

But there was always time for study, and when Bobby was in his sixteenthyear he and Jimmy could boast of having read Caesar and Cicero and Xenophon,and they were delving into Virgil and the Iliad. Under SkipperEd's tutorship Bobby had advanced as far in his studies as most boys ofhis age in civilization, who have all the advantages of the bestschools. And Skipper Ed was proud of his progress, and proud of Jimmy'sprogress too, as indeed he had reason to be, for neither of them was awaster of time. There was no inducement to be laggards.

Their hearts were clean and their vision was clear. Their view was notcut off or circumscribed by the frivolous and ofttimes viciousamusements that stand as a wall around life's outlook in the town. Theirview and their hope were as wide as the wilderness and the sea, ruggedand stern but mighty and majestic and limitless—God's unspoiledworks—and God was a living God to them.

Bobby at this age had developed into a big, husky lad. He could drivethe dog team as well as Abel. He had already killed many seals, and hewas an excellent hunter for his years. To Abel Zachariah and Mrs. Abelhe was a dutiful, affectionate son. They, too, were proud of him, andlooked upon him as the finest lad in the whole land, and Abel boastedthat when he grew to be a man he would be the finest hunter on thecoast.

It happened that early in February following Bobby's fifteenth birthdayAbel wrenched an ankle so badly that he could not go about his duties,or even hobble outside the cabin door. The responsibility of providingfor the little household, therefore, fell upon Bobby. And Bobby, thoughkeenly sympathetic, was nevertheless glad of an opportunity to show hisprowess.

He squared his shoulders, and regardless of cold and storm set about thework, determined to prove that he was a man in the things he couldaccomplish, if not in years; and he succeeded so well that he won highpraise from Abel. Certainly Abel himself could not have done better withthe fox trapping, which at this season was the chief employment. Bobbykept the house, too, so well supplied with rabbits and ptarmigans,through his incessant hunting, that presently there were enough hangingfrozen in the porch to last till the coming of warm weather.

One evening near the end of February Bobby announced, as he entered thecabin after giving the dogs their daily feed:

"There's only enough seal meat left to last the dogs a week. I'll haveto go to the sena and kill some more."

"You do not know how to do that kind of hunting," objected Abel. "It isnot like hunting seals from a boat, or like spearing them through theirbreathing holes in the ice. Feed the dogs only once every two days, andperhaps before the meat is gone my foot will be strong enough for me togo to the sena."

"I was there with you last year," Bobby insisted. "Jimmy will go withme. He has been to the sena with you twice, and he knows how. We willbe careful."

And at last Abel surrendered, for he could not long deny Bobby anyreasonable thing that the lad set his heart upon, and after all Bobbyhad proved himself a good and careful hunter; and they needed seals.

Skipper Ed had not kept dogs since the slaughter of his team in the yearof famine. He hunted and trapped more after the manner of the Indianthan the Eskimo, going long journeys inland on snowshoes, and now Jimmyaccompanied him. And living quite alone, as he had during his earlieryears on the coast, there was no one who could have fed or cared fordogs when Skipper Ed was absent upon these trapping expeditions. It wastherefore only during the two or three years preceding the year offamine, when Jimmy was old enough to care for them, and wished them,that he had a team.

Abel, on the other hand, after the manner of Eskimos, set his trapsnearer the shore, that he might, so far as possible, make the rounds ofthem with dogs.

Abel, therefore, had constant need of dogs, and he now had sixteen finebig fellows, which so nearly resembled the great wolves of the barrensthat were dogs and wolves to intermingle only the practiced eye coulddistinguish the one from the other. These dogs never barked, but howledwith the weird, dismal howl of the wolf. And when they were hungry theywere such dangerous, savage brutes that it was unsafe for a stranger,unless armed with a cudgel, to wander among them.

With sixteen dogs Abel could muster two ordinary teams of eight dogseach, or one powerful team of ten or twelve, or even the entire number.

Skipper Ed and Jimmy, when they required the services of dogs, couldalways borrow a team from Abel, and to repay this courtesy it was theircustom to join in the autumn and spring seal hunts, and to contributethe carcasses of the seals they killed to Abel, retaining only theskins, which Mrs. Abel dressed and made up for them into boots andwinter garments and sleeping bags, as needs demanded.

It was a Saturday evening when Bobby finally received Abel's consent forhim to go to the sena seal hunting. He was preparing to go over, aswas his custom on Saturdays, to spend the evening with Skipper Ed andJimmy in reading and study, and when he had eaten his supper he donnedhis snowshoes and netsek[D] and hurried eagerly away to Skipper Ed'scabin to invite Jimmy to join him in the adventure.

"Yes, to be sure, Partner, you must go with Bobby," said Skipper Ed."But it's going to be bleak and cold out there. It's a man's work atthis season, hunting at the sena, and a strong man's work, too.Perhaps I had better go along. Then we can take two teams of dogs."

"That will be dandy!" exclaimed Bobby, "We'll have a fine time!"

"Yes, Partner, come!" urged Jimmy. "You can leave your traps for aweek."

"I think I can—yes, I'll go," Skipper Ed decided. "I was never huntingat the sena but twice, though, and I've never forgotten my firstexperience. It was a good many years ago, before you came, Partner. Iwent with Abel. We had a hard time of it that year, for stormy weathercame up and we nearly perished in a blizzard."

"We'll build a snow igloo" said Bobby, "and be pretty comfortable.We'll take Father's snow knives and two of his old stone lamps. We'llhave plenty of seal oil to burn. You know there's no wood out there, andit isn't worth while hauling any."

"Yes," agreed Skipper Ed, "we'll need the lamps, though I don't likethem. I never could get used to them, and I never liked to go too farfrom wood."

And so it came to pass that in the bright moonlight of Monday morningthey lashed upon the two komatiks a good supply of hardtack and boiledsalt pork—the only provisions that would not freeze too hard toeat—with tea, and sleeping bags, and numerous articles of equipmentfor their own use and comfort, and a day's supply of seal meat for thedogs.

Then the dogs were caught and harnessed, and in great excitement beganto strain at the traces and howl their eagerness to be off. Oksunaeswere shouted to Abel and Mrs. Abel, and Bobby, grasping the front of onekomatik, and Skipper Ed the front of the other, they pulled themsharply to one side to break them loose, shouting to the teams as theydid so: "Hu-it! Hu-it!" Then they flung themselves upon thekomatiks, and away they dashed, down the steep and slippery incline,and off through the shore hummocks at a wild, mad gallop.

They were away to the sena, and the Great Adventure, at last.

CHAPTER XX

JIMMY'S SACRIFICE

For a little way the dogs traveled at a gallop, and Bobby and Skipper Edhad lively work while this lasted, guiding the komatiks between theice hummocks. But it was not long before the first excitement of goingupon a journey wore off, and after their manner the animals, with tailscurled over their backs, settled down to a steady pulling. Now and againthey came upon a ridge of ice piled up by the tide, and then it wasnecessary to lift at the komatiks and help the dogs.

Presently the ice hummocks were left behind and the smooth, whitesurface of the frozen bay stretched out before them. The snow whichcovered the ice had been beaten down and hard packed by the wind, andthe sledge runners slid over its surface so easily that the dogsincreased their pace to a steady, rapid trot.

The weather was fearfully cold. The runners of the sledge squeaked andcreaked. Frost flakes on the hard packed snow glistened and scintillatedin the moonlight and soon the netseks of the travelers were coveredwith white hoar frost, ice formed upon their eyelashes and Skipper Ed'sbreath froze upon his beard until presently his face was almost hiddenby a mass of ice.

They ran by the side of the komatiks to keep warm, only now and againriding for a little way to rest, and as they ran or walked they chattedgaily, contemptuous of the cold, and keenly enjoying in anticipation thesport and adventure in store for them.

And so they traveled for three full hours before the first hint ofdaylight came stealing up over the white horizon in the southeast, andat length, very slowly, as though reluctant to show his face, anduncertain of his welcome, the sun peeked timidly over the ice field.Then, reassured, he boldly lifted his round, glowing face full intoview, giving cheer and promise to the frozen world.

To the sledge traveler the dreariest hour of the day, and the hour ofbitterest cold, is that immediately preceding sunrise. As though by consent our three friendsduring this period fell into silence, and none spoke until the sunlooked out over the ice, and the frost-covered snow—each frost flake aminiature prism—was set a-sparkling and a-glinting as though the snowwas thick sown with diamonds.


They ran by the side of the komatiks to keep warm

"Glorious! Isn't it glorious!" exclaimed Bobby, dropping by Jimmy'sside upon the komatik, and removing a hand from its mitten for amoment to pick small particles of ice from his eyelashes.

Jimmy for answer drew his right hand from its mitten, and clapping itover Bobby's nose began to rub the member vigorously.

"There, now it's all right," said he, donning his mitten again after aminute or two of rubbing. "Your nose was going dead.[E] The end of itwas white."

"I never felt it," laughed Bobby. "Just look at the Skipper back there.He's a perfect image of Santa Claus!"

"Exactly!" exclaimed Jimmy, looking back at Skipper Ed. "He's exactlylike the picture of Santa Claus in that old magazine you and I used tolook at so much, only a good deal more real."

"If he was driving reindeers, now, instead of dogs," laughed Bobby, "andI met him with all that ice on his beard, and his netsek white andglistening with the frost that way, I'd think he had stepped right outof the old picture book."

"Good old Partner!" said Jimmy. "I think I'll drop back with him a whileand keep him company."

And, dropping lightly from the moving komatik, he waited to run alongfor a while with Skipper Ed, while Bobby ran alone with his own sledge.

Once a lonely raven coming from somewhere out of the blank spacesalighted on the ice a quarter of a mile in advance of Bobby's team anddirectly in its track. The dogs saw it immediately, and in an instantthey were after it at a mad gallop. Bobby threw himself upon the sledge,in high glee at the wild pace, and Skipper Ed's team, quite sure theywere missing something very much worth while, set out in hot pursuit.

In seeming disregard for his safety, the raven, cocking his head firston one side, then on the other, surveyed the approaching dogs withinterest, and to Bobby it seemed that the dogs would surely catch him.Old Tucktu, the leader, was apparently of the same mind and very sureof a tasty morsel, and they were almost upon him before the raven, toodignified to hurry, rose leisurely on his wings, tantalizingly near toTucktu's nose, and flapped away another quarter of a mile to repeat,with evident enjoyment, the episode, and then, unscathed, he disappearedagain into the blank spaces.

When the raven had gone and the excitement was at an end, Bobby andSkipper Ed shouted "Ah!" at their teams, and ran ahead with their longwhips as the dogs stopped, to compel the panting animals to lie down andremain quiet while they straightened out the tangled traces and mademerry over the rapid ride they had enjoyed. Then, extracting somehardtack biscuits from their bags, they sat on the sledges and ate theirdry luncheon while the dogs jogged leisurely on again.

The sun was setting when Bobby, now well in the lead, halted his team atAbel Zachariah's old fishing place on Itigailit Island to await SkipperEd and Jimmy. The sea, far out in the direction in which Abel had foundBobby in the drifting boat that August morning, was frozen, and a littleway out from Itigailit Island the smooth ice gave place to mountainousridges and hummocks where, earlier in the season, rough seas had piledmassive blocks one upon another and left them there to freeze and catchthe drifting snow. Far out beyond the pressure ridges Bobby could see adark line which marked the edge of the sea ice and the place where openwater began. That was the sena for which they were bound.

"Don't you think we'd better build our igloo here?" Bobby suggested asthe others came up. "It's getting late and we can't do any huntingtonight, anyway, and perhaps there won't be any good drifts out there."

"Yes, by all means," agreed Skipper Ed. "We'll have plenty of time inthe morning to go out, and if the hunting proves good, and we prefer tostay there, we can build an igloo at our leisure. If we get plenty ofseals we will want to haul them in here to land to cache them, and thenif the ice breaks up before we get them all hauled home, we can takethem in the boat. And while we are hauling them in here from the senawe'll have a snug igloo at each end of the trail, where we can makehot tea, if we wish, and drink it in comfort."

They found an excellent drift in a spot well sheltered from the wind,and because he was taller and stronger than Bobby and a better builderthan Jimmy, Skipper Ed, with a snow knife which looked very much like asword but had a wider blade, which was straight instead of curved,marked a circle about ten feet in diameter upon the drift.

Then he cut a wedge out of the snow in the center, and with this as abeginning he carved from each side of the hole blocks of the hard-packedsnow, each block about two feet long and a foot and a half wide and teninches thick. These he placed on edge around the circle, fitting theirends close together by trimming them as he found necessary, with theknife.

Bobby and Jimmy, each with a knife, now began also to cut other slabsfrom a drift outside the circle, and passed them to Skipper Ed when hehad exhausted his supply within the circle. They were very heavy, theseblocks, and as much as the boys could manage.

When Skipper Ed had built a row of blocks completely around the circle,he trimmed the first blocks which he had placed to a wedge, that hemight build his circle of blocks up in a spiral.

Each block of snow was so placed that it was braced against the onenext it, and its top leaned a little inward, so that as the walls of theigloo rose each was smaller than the one preceding it, until at last akey block in the top completed the dome-shaped structure. As the housegrew Bobby plastered the joints between the blocks full of snow, makingits outside smooth like the surface of a snowdrift.

When Skipper Ed had finished the building, he cut a circular placethrough the side, close down to the bottom, and just large enough topermit him to crawl out. Now with a snowshoe he shoveled the loose snowout of the opening, and leveled the floor within.

Bobby and Jimmy in the meantime busied themselves unlashing the loadsupon the sledges and unharnessing the dogs. When this was done Bobbywith an ax chopped frozen seal meat into pieces for the dogs' supper,while Jimmy with the long whip kept the hungry dogs at a distance, forwith the unharnessing, and preparation of their supper, they collectedinto bunches, and sitting on their haunches, growled and snapped at oneanother, each fearful that his neighbor should gain an advantage, andall the time emitted dismal, whistling whines of impatience.

Presently Bobby stepped aside, Jimmy withdrew the menace of the whip,and in an instant the hungry beasts were upon their food, gulping itdown as fast as they could pick it up, a snarling, snapping, yelpingmass, and there was a fight or two that the boys were called upon tomediate by beating the animals apart.

By the time the feeding was over Skipper Ed had carried the harness intothe igloo and spread it evenly on the floor—for the dogs would haveeaten their own harness if it had been left to them—and over theharness he laid caribou skins, and then carried in the sleeping bags andprovisions. Nothing, indeed, was left outside, for nothing would havebeen safe from the ravenous beasts. And when the dogs were fed and allwas made snug and safe the three crawled within, and closed the entranceto the igloo with a big block of snow previously provided for thepurpose.

They had brought with them two of Abel's old stone lamps. These weresimply blocks of stone cut in the shape of a half moon, and hollowedout, to hold seal oil.

The lamps were now placed upon snow shelves, one on either side of theigloo, and the oil from a piece of blubber squeezed into them. Piecesof rags carefully placed along the straight side of the lamps served aswicks. These were lighted and burned with a smoky, yellow flame.

When the wicks were burning well a snow knife was stuck into the wall ofthe snow house over each lamp, and upon these knives kettles weresuspended and filled with snow taken from the wall of the igloo. Oneof the kettles was removed when the snow was melted, and set aside fordrinking water. The other was permitted to boil, tea was made, and thenthe fire was put out, for already the temperature inside the igloo hadbecome so warm that presently there would be danger of the snow drippingmoisture.

"Now," said Skipper Ed, lighting a candle, for it was growing dark,"we're ready for supper. You chaps must be hungry."

"I could eat my boots!" declared Bobby.

"So could I!" exclaimed Jimmy, as he poured hot tea into Skipper Ed'sand Bobby's cups and then helped himself. "I was glad enough when wedecided to stop here."

"Isn't it fine and cozy," said Bobby, between mouthfuls of frozen boiledpork and hardtack. "I always find a snow igloo cozy."

"It makes a pretty good shelter," Skipper Ed admitted, "but I never didcare for an igloo. I'm too much of an Indian, I suppose, for I prefera tent and a good wood fire, with its sweet smoke odor, and thecompanionship and shelter of the forest."

"Oh, I think an igloo is nicer," insisted Bobby. "A tent gets cold atnight when the fire goes out, and an igloo keeps fine and warm. Icould live in an igloo all winter."

"You're a regular husky!" laughed Skipper Ed. "Partner and I areIndians, aren't we, Partner?"

"Yes, Partner, I like a tent better," agreed Jimmy, "but," he added, "Ilike our house better than a tent."

"It all depends upon what we're used to, after all," remarked SkipperEd, "and comfort is a matter of comparison. I've no doubt that Bobby,had he never been sent adrift, and had he never found his way here,would now be living in a fine mansion somewhere, and if he had beenbrought here directly from the luxuries of that mansion would have foundthis igloo unbearable, and instead of praising its comforts, as he is,would be denouncing it as unendurable, and the good supper we have justeaten as unfit to eat. And in that case it would have been a terriblehardship for him to spend even a single night here."

"I'm glad, then, that I came away from the mansion and its finery,"declared Bobby. "But I've often wondered who the dead man was thatFather found in the boat with me. I've often felt strange about that,and every summer when we're here I go over and look at his grave."

"I remember you spoke of him as 'Uncle Robert,'" said Skipper Ed."Perhaps he was your uncle."

"I wonder—and I wonder—" said Bobby. "I wonder if my real mother andfather are living, and whether they have stopped feeling bad about me,and forgotten me. I—think—sometimes I'd give most anything to see themand tell them I'm happy."

Then they were silent, and presently Skipper Ed knew that the boys weresleeping. But for a long time he lay awake and thought of other lands,and the friends of his youth and the days when he lived in luxury; andhe wondered if, after all, he had been one whit happier in those days,with all the fine things he had, than were Bobby and Jimmy here in thisrugged land, with no luxuries whatever. "We do not need much," hesoliloquized, "to make us happy if we are willing to be happy. Healthand love, and enough plain food to eat and clothes to cover us, and ashelter—even a snow house—and we have enough."

Before day broke they were astir; and the sun had not yet risen whenthey repacked their sledges and harnessed the dogs, and drove down overthe ice toward the sena. For a mile the ice was smooth. Then they cameamong the pressure ridges, and had to pick their course in and out foranother two miles before they came at last to the open sea.

Seals were numerous on the ice edge, and on floating pans of ice, andthe dogs began to strain and howl in eagerness to attack the game, andwould have dashed to the very water's edge but for big hoops of walrushide thrown over the front of the komatik, which dragged into the snowunder the runners and stopped them, and when they were stopped only themenace of the long whips could induce the animals to lie quietly down.

"We're going to have a dandy hunt!" exclaimed Bobby. "Shall we go rightat it, and build an igloo later?"

"Don't you think we had better build the igloo first?" suggestedSkipper Ed, laughing at Bobby's eagerness. "Then when we're tired wewon't have it to do, or to think about, and we'll have a shelter allready. Let us make things ship-shape."

"I suppose you're right," and Bobby grinned.

One of the two lamps and a share of the provisions had been left in theigloo on Itigailit Island, which was to be their land base and theircache. But they had brought with them the other lamp and necessaries tomake their hunting igloo comfortable. A good bank of snow was found,not too far from the ice edge, and in an hour an igloo was ready andeverything stowed safely away from possible foraging by the dogs. Thenthe two teams, still fast in their traces, were picketed behind the icehummocks near the igloo, for had they been set at liberty each dogwould have gone hunting on his own account, and the seals would havebeen driven from the ice and beyond range of the guns.

Now, each armed with a rifle, and Bobby with a harpoon, they stole downtoward the seals, crawling toward them, Bobby now and again emitting a"Hough! Hough!" in imitation of the coughing bark of the seals, untilthey approached quite near. Then, almost simultaneously, they fired,and, springing up, ran forward. Two seals had been shot clear throughthe head, and lay dead on the ice, but the other, though wounded, hadslipped into the water. Bobby drew his harpoon, and holding it poisedwaited, until presently a dozen feet away the wounded seal camestruggling to the surface. In a flash the harpoon flew from the younghunter's hand and struck its mark, and with the assistance of Skipper Edand Jimmy he drew it to the ice.

These seals were of a species which they called "harps," because of thepeculiar, harp-shaped markings on their back; and of the hair variety,for none of the valuable fur seals inhabits north Atlantic waters. Theskins, however, when dressed into leather by Mrs. Abel, would prove ofsplendid quality for boot tops, or, when dressed without removing thehair, would supply them with many articles of clothing for theircomfort.

The day was terribly cold—Skipper Ed judged that the temperature musthave stood at least at fifty degrees below zero, and that even thetemperature of the sea water, where it was unfrozen, was well below thefreezing point. Once or twice, indeed, in spite of their enthusiasm, thehunters retired to the igloo, where a lamp was kept burning, to warmthemselves.

Late that afternoon Jimmy wounded a seal on an ice pan, and it went intothe water. He seized a harpoon, but when the seal rose to the surface itwas so far away that the line could not reach it.

"Here!" shouted Bobby, laying down his gun and grabbing a paddle whichhe had brought from Itigailit Island for such an emergency, "jump onthis pan. I'll paddle you out where you can get him."

They sprang upon a small pan, and, utilizing it as a raft, Bobby paddleda few yards.

"There! There!" shouted Bobby. "There he is. He's most dead. You can gethim!"

Jimmy jumped to the side of the pan upon which Bobby was kneeling withhis paddle, and poising the harpoon was about to cast it when the pan,too heavily weighted on that side, began slowly to turn. Bobby did notsee this, but Jimmy did.

"Don't move!" shouted Jimmy. "Stay where you are!"

And, without hesitation, Jimmy slipped from the pan and into the icysea, though he knew there was small chance for him to swim, and,overcome by the shock of the terrible cold, he sank beneath the waves.

The pan righted itself immediately it was relieved of Jimmy's weight,and Bobby, realizing what Jimmy had done, and that his friend hadsacrificed himself for his sake, stood bewildered and stunned, gazingblankly at the spot where Jimmy had sunk.

CHAPTER XXI

WHO WAS THE HERO?

Bobby did not lose his head. After his manner in emergencies, he thoughtquickly, and acted instantly, and now his bewilderment was for only amoment.

Seizing the harpoon which Jimmy had dropped upon the ice, he gave a yellthat brought Skipper Ed to the water's edge in a hurry, and when SkipperEd came running down Bobby had already thrown off his netsek and hismittens and was knotting the loose end of the harpoon line around hiswaist. Grasping the harpoon, he cast it upon the main ice, with thecommand:

"Grab it, and hold it!"

"My God!" gasped Skipper Ed. "What has happened? Where is Jimmy? Whereis Partner?"

"In there! Stand by and help!" directed Bobby, who had not taken hiseyes off the dark water where Jimmy had disappeared, save for thefleeting instant when he cast his harpoon to Skipper Ed.

Presently Jimmy, hampered by his netsek, weakly struggled to thesurface, already apparently overcome by the awful cold of the plunge.Bobby saw him and instantly sprang after him, seized him about the waistand held him with the desperation of one who fights with death. Amoment's struggle followed and then both lads went down.

Skipper Ed now comprehended Bobby's suddenly formulated plan of rescue,and he pulled with all his strength upon the line, and as he pulledBobby, still grasping Jimmy about the body, rose again to the surface,and Skipper Ed giving impetus to the line, drew them to him, seized themand quite easily drew them upon the ice.

Jimmy had already lost consciousness and Bobby was so overcome by theshock that he could scarcely speak, and Skipper Ed, lifting Jimmy intohis arms, ran with him to the igloo, calling to Bobby as he did so:

"Come! Run! Run, or you'll freeze!"

Bobby tried to run—tried very hard—but he fell. The water in aninstant formed a coat of mail upon his body. He rose, but his legsrefused to respond, and again he fell, and when Skipper Ed, who camerunning back when he had dragged Jimmy into the igloo, reached him hefound Bobby on his hands and knees and nearly helpless.

"Come!" he shouted into Bobby's ear, at the same time passing his armaround Bobby's body and lifting him to his feet. "Come, lad! Don't giveup!" he encouraged, half dragging the boy forward and pushing him intothe igloo.

"Undress, Bobby! Get into your sleeping bag!" he commanded.

"Jimmy—Jimmy—" said Bobby, in a voice which he hardly recognized ashis own.

"I'll take care of Jimmy," broke in Skipper Ed. "Get into your sleepingbag! Quick!"

And Bobby in a dazed manner obeyed.

Fortunately the stone lamp was burning. Skipper Ed closed the door ofthe igloo with a block of snow, and working rapidly he stripped thefrozen clothing from Jimmy, wrapped him in a caribou skin, turned himupon his face, and resorted to artificial respiration to restore him toconsciousness.

Jimmy responded quickly to the treatment, for he was suffering ratherfrom shock than from the amount of water that had entered his lungs, andin a little while Skipper Ed was gratified to observe that he wasbreathing naturally and making an effort to speak.

"Where's—Bobby?" he asked faintly.

"Bobby's safe," said Skipper Ed with a strange choking in his voice."Bobby pulled you out, Partner. My brave partner!"

Without delay Skipper Ed now tucked Jimmy into his sleeping bag, andwrapping an additional caribou skin around each of the boys, set himselfat once to brewing some hot strong tea, which he forced them to drink,and until they had drunk it and were thoroughly warmed he commanded themto do no talking, though in spite of the injunction Bobby asked:

"Is Jimmy all right?"

"He's all right," reassured Skipper Ed, "as snug as can be, in his bag.Now don't say another word until I give you permission. Go to sleep."

"Where's my netsek? Did you find it? And my mittens? I'll need 'emagain," persisted the practically disposed Bobby, who was alreadythinking of the future.

"You young rascal! Go to sleep, I say, and don't let me hear anotherword," insisted Skipper Ed. "I'll go find 'em. Keep quiet now and go tosleep."

Skipper Ed found the netsek and mittens, as he had promised he would.The tide had driven the piece of ice upon which Bobby had left them backagain to the main ice. Then he fed the dogs, and when he returned to theigloo both lads were sleeping soundly.

He filled his pipe, and sat for two hours, and until darkness settled,smoking and ruminating. He did not know yet the full history of theaccident. He only knew that Jimmy had in some manner got into the water,was overcome by the icy bath and was perishing when Bobby called, andthat Bobby by quick thought and quick action had saved his youngpartner.

"They're both as tough as nuts or they never would have come out ofthat dip so well," he said to himself. "Bobby's a hero, and as unselfishas the day is long.

"I wonder what he'd have been if he'd never gone adrift and had nevercome to this rugged land. I wonder if his rich parents, or the luxuriesand frivolities of civilization, would have spoiled him, and made himgrow up into a selfish, cowardly, and perhaps dissipated, weakling? Iwonder if it's the rugged country and the rugged, hard life he lives,that have given him a rugged, noble heart, or whether he'd have had itanyway?

"It's God's mystery. God holds our destiny in His hands, and our destinyis His will. Perhaps He sent the lad here to mould his character uponthe plan of the great wide wilderness and boundless sea, and to fit himfor some noble part that he is to play some time in life."

Skipper Ed knocked the ashes from his pipe.

"Perhaps after all," he mused, "my life here has not been wasted.Perhaps my part in life was to teach these boys and help to broadentheir life. Perhaps that was the reason I drifted here and remainedhere. Every misfortune and every sorrow is just a stepping stone tosomething higher and better."

"Skipper!" Bobby was awake and Skipper Ed's musings were at an end.

"Yes, son." He called Bobby "son" sometimes, as a special mark ofaffection.

"Did you find the netsek and mittens?"

"Yes, you practical young scamp."

"That's good," said Bobby, "for I couldn't hunt tomorrow without them."

"Hunt tomorrow!" exclaimed Skipper Ed. "Is that the first thing youthink of when you wake up? I'm not sure I'll let you hunt tomorrow. Imay keep you in your sleeping bag."

"I'm all right, Skipper," declared Bobby, "I'm going to get out of mybag right now. I'm so hungry I'll be eating it if I don't."

"Stay where you are!" commanded Skipper Ed. "I'll feed you right there.I have some fresh seal meat all cooked, and I'll make tea."

"Is Jimmy asleep, and is he all right?"

"Yes, he's sleeping, and I've no doubt he'll be all right in a day ortwo."

"Skipper," said Bobby, as Skipper Ed threw a handful of tea into thesimmering teakettle, "do you know what Jimmy did?"

"Why, yes. He fell into the sea, and would have perished if you hadn'tbeen so prompt in making a human fishhook of yourself."

"What I did wasn't anything any one wouldn't have done," declared Bobbydeprecatingly.

"But we were on that cake of ice and it began to turn over, and Jimmyjumped into the water to save me. If we'd both gone in we'd both havedrowned, for we couldn't have got out with our netseks on in thatparalyzing cold, and Jimmy knew it, so he just jumped in to save me, andI'm sure he never expected to get out himself. That's the greatest thinganybody could have done."

"Jumped in to save you? My partner a hero, too! I knew it was in him,though. You're a pair of the bravest chaps I ever knew, and I'm proud ofyou both," and Skipper Ed's voice sounded strange and choky.

"Oh, it was nothing for me to do! I was safe on the end of the line! Iwas sure of getting out—but Jimmy!"

"Here," said Skipper Ed, "is some fine tender seal meat and a hardbiscuit. Drink down this hot tea. It's good for you. And stop talking. Iknow what you did, you young husky."

Bobby laughed, and sipped the steaming tea.

Jimmy always insisted that he would have gone into the water anyhow whenthe ice turned over, and therefore had no choice, and deserved no creditfor what he did, but that Bobby did a very brave act. And Bobby insistedthat Jimmy had risked his life to save his, and was the bravest chap inthe world. And Skipper Ed insisted that both lads were wonderful heroes.So it comes about that you and I will have to decide for ourselves whichwas right, and who was the hero.

CHAPTER XXII

A STORM AND A CATASTROPHE

True to his promise, Bobby was up the next morning bright and early, andawoke Skipper Ed as he moved about, lighting the lamp and hanging thekettle of snow to melt for tea, and the kettle containing cooked sealmeat, to thaw, for it had frozen hard in the night. Then, while hewaited for these to heat, he crawled back into his sleeping bag.

"How are you feeling after your Arctic dip?" inquired Skipper Ed.

"As fine as could be!" answered Bobby. "My fingers were nipped a little,and they're a bit numb. That's the only way I'd know, from the way Ifeel, that I'd been in the water."

"You're a regular tough young husky!" declared Skipper Ed. "But it was anarrow escape, and we can thank God for the deliverance of you twochaps. You mustn't take those risks again. It's tempting Providence."

"Why, I didn't think we were careless," said Bobby. "It was the sort ofthing that is always likely to happen."

Jimmy lifted his head.

"Hello!" drowsily. "Is it time to get up? I've been sleeping like astone."

"It isn't time for you to get up," cautioned Skipper Ed. "You stay rightwhere you are today."

"I'm all right, Partner!" Jimmy declared.

"Well, you've got to demonstrate it. We don't want any pneumonia caseson our hands. Just draw some long breaths, and punch yourself, and seehow you feel."

"I feel fine," insisted Jimmy, after some deep breaths and severalself-inflicted punches. "It doesn't hurt a bit to breathe, and I don'tfeel lame anywhere. The only place I feel bad is in my stomach, andthat's just shouting for grub."

"Very well," laughed Skipper Ed, "that kind of an ache we can cure withboiled seal and hardtack."

And so, indeed, it proved. Their hardihood, brought about by a life ofexposure to the elements, and their constitutions, made strong as ironby life and experience in the open, withstood the shock, and, none theworse for their experience, and passing it by as an incident of theday's work, they resumed the hunt with Skipper Ed.

All of that day and the next, which was Thursday, they hunted with greatsuccess, and when Thursday night came more than half a hundred fatseals, among which were three great bearded seals—"square flippers,"they called them—lay upon the ice as their reward. They were wellpleased. Indeed, they could scarcely have done better had Abel Zachariahbeen with them.

"Tomorrow will be Friday, and we had better haul our seals to ItigailitIsland to the cache," Skipper Ed suggested that evening as they sat snugin the igloo, eating their supper. "We have all we can care for."

"I hate to leave with all these seals about, but I suppose we'll have togo some time," said Bobby regretfully.

"Yes, and I'm wondering what I'll find in my traps when we get home,"said Jimmy.

"You may have a silver fox, Partner," laughed Skipper Ed.

"I've been looking for one every round I've made this winter," Jimmygrinned.

"That's the way with every hunter," said Skipper Ed. "He's alwayslooking for a silver, and it makes him the keener for the work, anddrives away monotony. He's always expecting a silver, though year in andyear out he gets nothing but reds and whites, with now and again across, to make him think that his silver is prowling around somewhereclose by."

"I'd feel rich if I ever caught a silver!" broke in Bobby. "And wouldn'tI get some things for Father and Mother, though! A new rifle and shotgunand traps, and—loads of things!"

"So you're looking for a silver, too," said Skipper Ed, all of themlaughing heartily. "That's the way it goes—everyone is looking for asilver fox, and that keeps everyone always hopeful and gives vim forlabor. When they don't have silvers or don't hunt and trap, they'relooking for something else that takes the place of a silver—some greatsuccess. It's ambition to catch silvers, and the hope of catching them,that makes the world go round."

"Well, I never got one yet," said Bobby, "and there's one due me bythis time. Every one gets a silver some time in his life."

"Not every one," corrected Skipper Ed. "Well, shall we haul the sealsover in the morning, and then go home to see if we've got any silvers inthe traps?"

"I suppose so," agreed Bobby, regretfully. "It's hard to leave this finehunting, but I suppose there'll be good hunting till the ice goes out,and anyway we've got all we can use."

So with break of day on Friday they loaded their sledges, and all thatday hauled seals to their cache, and when night came and they returnedin the dark to the sena igloo, some seals still remained to be hauledon Saturday.

But the sun did not show himself on Saturday morning, for the sky washeavily overcast, and before they reached Itigailit Island with thefirst load of seals snow was falling and the wind was rising. Theyhurried with all their might, for it was evident a storm was about tobreak with the fury of the North, and out on the open ice field, wherethe wind rides unobstructed and unbridled, these storms reach terribleproportions.

So they pushed the dogs back to the sena at the fastest gait to whichthey could urge them. Skipper Ed and Jimmy were in advance and hadSkipper Ed's komatik loaded with the larger proportion of theremaining seals, and were lashing the load into place, when Bobbyarrived.

"I've got a heavier load than yours will be, so I'll go on with it,"Skipper Ed shouted as Bobby drove up. "There are only two small onesleft for you, and the cooking outfit and your snow knives in theigloo. Don't forget them. You and Jimmy will likely overtake me. Hurryalong."

"All right," answered Bobby. "We'll catch you before you reach smoothice."

So Skipper Ed drove away with never a thought of catastrophe, and wasquickly swallowed up by the thickening snow, while Bobby and Jimmyloaded the seals and the things from the igloo upon the sledge, and,spurred by the rising wind and snow, hurried with all their might.

Already great seas were booming and breaking with a roar upon the ice,and as the boys turned the dogs back upon the trail they observed awaving motion of the ice beneath them, which was rapidly becoming moreapparent. At one moment the dogs would be hauling the sledge up anincline, and at the next moment the sledge would be coasting downanother incline close upon the heels of the team, as the heaving iceassumed the motion of the seas which rolled beneath.

As they receded from the ice edge, however, this motion diminished,until finally it was hardly perceptible at all, and there seemed nofurther cause for alarm or great speed, and the dogs, which were wearywith the two days' heavy hauling, were permitted to proceed at their ownleisurely gait.

At length through the snow they saw Skipper Ed waiting for them, butwhen he was assured they were following he proceeded.

"Ah!" Bobby shouted to his dogs a moment later, bringing them suddenlyto a stop. "I've dropped my whip somewhere. Jimmy, watch the team whileI run back after it."

Twenty minutes elapsed before he returned with the whip, and they droveon.

Skipper Ed, satisfied that Bobby and Jimmy were close at his heels, didnot halt again until well out over the smooth ice and near to ItigailitIsland, when he heard behind him a strange rumbling and crackling. Hehalted and listened, and strained his eyes through the drifting snowfor a glimpse of the boys. They were not visible, and, springing fromhis komatik, he ran back in the direction from which he had come andas fast as he could run, and presently, with a sickening sensation athis heart, was brought to a halt by a broad black space of open water.

The great ice pack upon which they had been hunting had broken loosefrom the shore ice, and tide and wind were driving it seaward. Alreadythe chasm between him and the floe had widened to over thirty feet, andit was rapidly growing wider. The minutes dragged and when at last Bobbyand Jimmy came into view on the opposite side of the chasm it was a fulltwo hundred feet in breadth. They shouted to the dogs and rushed to theedge of the open water, but there was no hope of their escape. They haddelayed too long. They were adrift on the ice floe, which was steadilytaking them seaward.

CHAPTER XXIII

IT WAS GOD'S WILL

Skipper Ed was appalled and stunned. A sense of great weakness came uponhim, and he swayed, and with an effort prevented his knees from doublingunder him. His vision became clouded, like the vision of one in a dream.His brain became paralyzed, inert, and he was hardly able to comprehendthe terrible tragedy that he believed inevitable.

Had there been any means at his command whereby he could at least haveattempted a rescue, it would have served as a safety valve. But he wasutterly and absolutely helpless to so much as lift a finger to relievethe two boys whom he loved so well and who had become so much a part ofhis life.

And there was Abel Zachariah and Mrs. Abel. Vaguely he remembered themand the great sorrow that this thing would bring upon them. He knew wellthat they would place none of the responsibility upon himself, but,nevertheless, he could but feel that had he remained with the boys theywould now have been safe.

Home? His cabin would never be home to him again, without his partner.He could never go over to Abel Zachariah's again of evenings, with noBobby there. Only two days ago he had thanked God for sparing the livesof the boys, and how proud he had been of their heroic action, and theirpluck, too, after he had got them safe into the igloo!

He could see them now—barely see them through the snow. He watchedtheir faint outlines, and then the swirling snow hid them, and the icefloe and only black waters remained.

Then it was that Skipper Ed fell to his knees, and, kneeling there inthe driving Arctic storm and bitter cold, prayed God, as he had neverprayed before, to work a miracle, and spare his loved ones to him.Nothing, he remembered, was beyond God's power, and God was good.

When, presently, he arose from his knees, Skipper Ed felt strangelyrelieved. A part, at least, of the load was lifted from his heart. Hecould not account for the sensation, but, nevertheless, he feltstronger, and a degree of his old courage had returned.

He stood for a little longer gazing seaward, but nothing was to be seenbut black, turbulent, surly waters and swirling snow, and at length heturned reluctantly back to his sledge.

The dogs were lying down, and already nearly covered by the drift. Hecalled to them to go forward, and, arriving at the igloo, listlesslyunharnessed and fed them, and retreated to the shelter of the igloo tothink.

He could eat nothing that night, but he brewed some strong tea over thestone lamp. Then he lighted his pipe and sat silent, for a long while,forgetting to smoke.

With every hour the wind increased in force, and before midnight one ofthose awful blizzards, so characteristic of Labrador at this season, wasat its height. Once Skipper Ed removed the snow block at the entrance ofthe igloo, and partly crawled out with a view to looking about, but hewas nearly smothered by drift, and quickly drew back again into theigloo and replaced the snow block.

"The poor lads!" said he. "God help and pity them, and" he addedreverently, "if it be Thy will, O God, preserve their lives."

Skipper Ed finally slipped into his sleeping bag and fell into atroubled sleep, to awake, as morning approached, with a great weightupon his heart, and with his waking moment came the realization of itscause. He arose upon his elbow and listened. The tempest had passed.

He sprang up, and drawing on his netsek and moccasins, for these werethe only garments he had removed upon lying down, he went out and lookedabout him. The stars were shining brilliantly, and an occasional gust ofwind was the only reminder of the storm. Mounds of snow marked the placewhere the dogs were sleeping, covered by the drift. The morning wasbitterly cold.

He ran down to the ice edge, and gazed eagerly seaward, but nowherecould he see the ice pack. It had vanished utterly.

A sense of awful loneliness fell upon Skipper Ed. Reluctantly hereturned to the igloo and prepared his breakfast, which he atesparingly. Then until day broke he sat pondering the situation. Therewas nothing he could do, and he decided at length to return at once toAbel Zachariah's, and report the calamity.

When he emerged again from the igloo the last breath of the storm hadceased to blow and a dead calm prevailed. He loaded the komatik, andcalling the dogs from beneath their coverlets of snow, harnessed them,and without delay set out for the head of Abel's Bay.

It was long after dark when the dogs, straining at their traces andyelping, rushed in through the ice hummocks below Abel's cabin. Thecabin was dark, but a light flashed in the window as the sledge ascendedthe incline. Abel and Mrs. Abel had heard the approach, and when thesledge came to a stop before the door they were there to give welcomeand greetings.

"Where is Bobby? And where is Jimmy?" asked Abel. "Are they coming?"

"They will never come," answered Skipper Ed.

Abel and Mrs. Abel understood, for tragedies, in that stern land, arecommon, and always the people seem steeled to meet them. And so insilence they led the way into the cabin, and in silence they sat,uttering no word, while Skipper Ed related what had happened. And thoughstill there was no crying and no wailing from the stricken couple,Skipper Ed knew that they felt no less keenly their loss, and he knewthat they had lost what was dearer to them than their own life.

"And now," said Skipper Ed, when he was through, "I will unharness thedogs and take care of the things on the komatik."

"Yes," said Abel, "we will look after the dogs. You will stop with ustonight, for your igloosuak (cabin) is cold."

And when they had cared for the dogs and had eaten the supper which Mrs.Abel prepared, Abel Zachariah took his Eskimo Bible from the shelf andread from it, and then they sang a hymn, and when the three knelt inevening devotion he thanked God for the son He had sent them out of themists from the Far Beyond where storms are born, and had seen fit tocall back again into the mists, for the son had been a good son and hadmade brighter and happier many years of their life. It was God's will,and God's will was law, and it was not for them to question therighteousness of His acts.

And that night when Mrs. Abel turned down the blankets on Bobby's bedfor Skipper Ed, she thought of the time when Bobby was little, and shelay by his side of evenings to croon him to sleep with her quaintEskimo lullabies.

CHAPTER XXIV

UNDER THE DRIFTING SNOW

Bobby and Jimmy heard the ominous booming that accompanied the partingof the floe from the land ice, and they whipped the dogs to the utmostexertion of which the animals were capable, but they had dallied toolong, and when they reached the rapidly widening chasm it was plain thatretreat was hopelessly cut off.

"We can swim it! We can swim!" shouted Jimmy, and but for therestraining hand of Bobby he would have plunged into the water and madethe mad attempt, so soon forgetful was he of his recent experience.

"You'd freeze! You'd freeze! We couldn't swim in this cold!" Bobbyprotested.

"I think we could have made it!" declared Jimmy, when Bobby let go hisarm.

"You know how the water treated us the other day, Jimmy," said Bobbyquietly. "We never could swim it. The cold would paralyze us before wegot half way across."

"But now we're sure to perish!" Jimmy exclaimed. "We'll be carried tosea, and the ice will break up, and there'll be no chance for us at all.We'd have had at least a chance if we'd tried! Now our last chance isgone!"

"There wouldn't have been a chance if we'd tried to swim," Bobbyprotested. "Here there is some sort of a chance. The ice may not breakup, and it may drift back so that we can get ashore, and if it holdstogether long enough some vessel may pick us up. Anyhow we're here, andwe've got to make the best of it."

"There's Partner!" broke in Jimmy. "Poor old Partner! See him out there?I wonder what he'll do."

And then they shouted to Skipper Ed, and again and again they shouted,but the wind blew their shouts back into their teeth and Skipper Ed didnot hear them, and at last he faded away, and the land ice faded away inthe cloud of drifting snow.

"There's going to be a hard blow, and we'll have to find a place tobuild our igloo," Bobby at length suggested.

"Yes," agreed Jimmy. "I'm glad we've got the snow knives and the lamp.If it comes to blow hard we'd perish in the open."

"And I'm glad we've got these seals, and some tea and biscuits," addedBobby. "I'm famishing. We'll have to get back among the hummocks to finda drift for the igloo. Our old igloo, I suppose, has been washedaway before this. Anyway, it's too near the surf to be safe."

"I'm afraid there's no drift, except among the big hummocks on the otherside, that's big enough for an igloo" suggested Jimmy disconsolately,"and I think you're right about it being too near open water out thereto be safe, for if the ice breaks it'll break there first."

"Yes, but we may find something toward the center," agreed Bobby, as hetook up the whip and turned the dogs about. "We've got to make some kindof shelter."

And so they made their way back among the pressure hummocks, and,compelling the dogs to lie down, each with a snow knife began his searchfor a suitable snow drift upon which to build an igloo.

The fury of the storm increased with every moment. It drifted past andaround them in dense and stifling clouds and at times nearly chokedthem. The wind shrieked and moaned among the hummocks. In the distancethey could hear the boom of the seas hammering upon the floe andthreatening it with destruction, and now with growing frequency risingabove the sound of shrieking wind and booming seas they were startled bythe cannon-like report of smashing ice.

At last the flying snow become so dense there was danger they would losethe komatik and lose each other, and they came together again, gropingtheir way blindly to the komatik, which was nearly hidden under thedrift, and the sleeping dogs, which by this time were wholly invisible.

"The snow is too soft," Bobby announced. "I've tried it everywhere, andevery block that I cut falls to pieces."

"I couldn't find any, either," said Jimmy, "but we've got to dosomething. We'll perish without shelter."

"I'm afraid there's no use trying to build an igloo," acknowledgedBobby, "though we needn't perish if we can't make one. But I don't wantto give up yet. Let's try just a little longer, but we must keep asclose to the komatik as we can, or we'll get separated."

"We can't live through the night without an igloo!" Jimmy againdeclared, adding wistfully: "I wonder if our old igloo isn't all rightyet, after all? It sat a little back, you know, from the water."

"It wouldn't be safe," Bobby protested. "If it hasn't gone already, itwill soon in this blow, for the sea is eating away the ice floe on allsides. Don't worry, Jimmy. We'll make out, igloo or no igloo. Lookat the dogs. They don't have igloos ever. But I'm weak with hunger.I've got to eat a biscuit before I do another thing."

Together they dug away the snow and found the food bag, and from itextracted some sea biscuits, and each cut for himself a thick piece ofthe boiled fat pork, frozen as hard as pork will freeze, butnevertheless very palatable to the famished young castaways. Andcrouching close together under the lee of the komatik they munched insilence.

"If it wasn't for these big hummocks we'd be blown clear off the ice,"said Bobby, finally. "We've no idea how strong the wind is and how itsweeps over the level ice out there. The dogs are wise to get under thedrift so soon."

They again fell into silence for a little while, when Jimmy remarked,sadly:

"We'll never see home again, I suppose! There's no hope that I can seeof getting off this floe. I wonder what it will be like to die."

"I'm not thinking about dying," said Bobby, "and I'm not going to dietill I have to. It's the last thing I expect to do. I'm thinking aboutgetting a shelter made before it gets dark, and then keeping alive onhere, and as comfortable as we can, until we get ashore."

"I don't see how we're ever going to get ashore," Jimmy solemnlyinsisted. "Not that I feel scared, though I'd rather live than die. Butit's an awful thing to feel that our bodies will be lost in the sea, andno one will know how we die."

"If we have to die the sea is as good a place as any to die in, and whatdifference does it make about our bodies? But," added Bobby, "we won'tdie if I can help it, and I don't believe we're going to. If we do, whythat's the way the Almighty planned it for us, and we shouldn't mind,for what the Almighty plans is right. He knows what is best for us."

"I can't believe just that," said Jimmy. "If we'd hurried we wouldn'thave been caught in this trap. It was our fault. I'm not blaming you,Bobby. I'm older than you and should have thought further and told youto hurry, so I'm most to blame. And I can't help worrying about Partnerand Abel and Mrs. Zachariah, and how they'll feel and what they'll do."

"What's the use of worry? You always get worrying and stewing, Jimmy,and you know it doesn't help things any and makes you miserable, andthere's never been a time yet when it didn't turn out in the end thatthere never was anything to really worry about, after all. If you keepon you'll get yourself scared. Now quit it. I was more at fault forgetting us into the scrape than you were, and you know that too, and ifyou keep up this sort of talk I'll feel you're trying to rub it in."

"Well, perhaps you're right," Jimmy admitted, and after a moment'ssilence suggested, as they rose to continue their efforts to make ashelter: "Bobby—let's ask God to take care of us."

"Yes," agreed Bobby enthusiastically, "let's do; and then let's do ourbest to take care of ourselves, and help Him."

They sank on their knees in the snow, and each in silence offered hisown fervent prayer, while the wind drove the thick snow about them andshrieked and moaned weirdly through the hummocks, and the distantbooming of the seas, and thunderous smashing of the ice on the outeredge of the floe, fell upon their ears with solemn, ominous foreboding.

"Now I'm going to look again for hard snow," said Bobby, when they rosepresently. "You better keep close to the komatik, Jimmy, so we won'tlose it. I won't go far, and if I find snow that will cut I'll holler,and if I lose the direction I'll holler, and then you answer."

And taking his snow knife Bobby was swallowed up by the swirling snow,and Jimmy waited and waited, in dreadful loneliness and suspense, whilethe minutes stretched out, and at last dusk began to steal upon hisstormswept world.

Many times Jimmy shouted, but no answering shout from Bobby came to him,and now he shouted and listened, and shouted and listened, but only theshrieking and moaning of the wind, and booming and thundering ofbreaking seas and pounding ice gave answer.

A sickening dread came into Jimmy's heart as vainly he peered throughthe gathering darkness into ever thickening snow clouds, and called andshouted until he was hoarse.

He could not see the dogs now—he could hardly see the length of thekomatik. The dogs lay quiet under their blanket of snow somewhereahead in the gloom. Jimmy, though he had wrapped a caribou skin aroundhis shoulders, was becoming numb with cold.

Growing desperate at last, he set out to search for Bobby, but did notgo far when he realized that it would be a hopeless search, and that itwas after all his duty to remain with the sledge. Then he turned back tofind the sledge and stumbled and groped around in the snow for a longwhile before he fell upon it by sheer accident.

With darkness the velocity of the storm increased, constantly gatheringforce. The bitter cold cut through Jimmy's sealskin clothing and throughthe caribou skin which he had again wrapped around him, and his fleshfelt numb, and a heavy drowsiness was stealing upon him which it washard to resist. He knew that to surrender to this in his exposedposition would be fatal, and he rose to his feet and jumped up and downto restore circulation.

Any further attempt to find Bobby, he realized, would be foolhardy ifnot suicidal. His previous effort had proved this, and now he felt quitehelpless. He was also very certain that Bobby could not by anypossibility, if he still survived, find his way back to the komatikuntil the storm abated. He would have lost the komatik himself nowhad he wandered even a dozen feet from it.

And then he comforted himself with the thought that Bobby had learnedmany things from Abel concerning the manner in which the Eskimos on theopen barrens and ice fields protect themselves when suddenly overtakenby storms such as the one that now raged. In these matters, indeed, helooked upon Bobby as an Eskimo, and had great confidence in Bobby'sability to overcome conditions that to himself would seem unconquerable.

He knew, too, that Bobby, when hunting with Abel upon the barrens, hadweathered some terrific storms. These were experiences which he himselfhad never encountered, for he and Skipper Ed during their winter monthson the trapping trails clung more closely to the forests, where theywere protected from sweeping gales and could always find firewood inabundance, and could build a temporary shelter.

And pondering these things as he sat huddled upon the sledge, his hopethat Bobby might after all be safe grew, and he felt a sense of vastrelief steal over him. He was not so cold now, his brain was heavy withsleep and he began to doze.

Suddenly he again realized his own danger were he to submit to the sleepwhich the cold was urging upon him, and he sprang to his feet and jumpedand jumped and shouted and swung his arms, until he could feel the bloodtingling through his veins, and his brain awake.

"I must do something!" said he. "I must do something! Bobby is lost outthere and I can't help him, and I can't stand this much longer. I mustdo something for myself or I'll perish before morning."

Then he remembered the dogs, lying deep and snug under the drifts, andwhat Bobby had said about them, and with feverish haste he drew his snowknife and cut away the drift which now all but covered the komatik.Then he took his sleeping bag from the load, and, digging deeper downand down into the drift, stretched the bag into the hole he had made,and slid into it, and in a little while the snow covered him, and helike the dogs lay buried beneath the drift.

CHAPTER XXV

A LONELY JOURNEY

Weary as Jimmy was, he lay awake for a long time, torn by emotions andfilled with misgivings and wild imaginings. Would he ever see good oldPartner again? Would he ever see the cozy cabin that had been his homethrough all these happy years? Would he ever again sit, snug in his bigarm chair before the big box stove with its roaring fire, while SkipperEd helped him with his studies or told him stories of the far-off fairyland of civilization?

Then for a time he fell to thinking about Bobby, and, in his old way, toworrying, and to wondering if, after all, he could not or should notmake one more attempt to rescue his comrade.

"I never should have let him go that last time," he moaned. "If heperishes it will be my fault! I'm older and I should have thoughtfurther! I should have kept him back! But I'm so in the habit of lettinghim go ahead! Oh, I should have held him back! I should have held himback!"

And in this soliloquy Jimmy unconsciously admitted, though he did notknow it, that Bobby was his leader still, as he always had been, andthat Bobby's will and judgment dominated. Bobby had decided to go uponthat last attempt to find snow suitable for an igloo, and Bobby went,and Jimmy could no more successfully have interposed his judgmentagainst Bobby's than he could have stopped the blowing of the wind.

"No," he admitted to himself at last, "I could not have done anythingmore to find Bobby. In this terrible storm I would have perished, for itis physically impossible to move about."

And so presently Jimmy, easing his conscience, permitted his betterjudgment to prevail, though once he had been upon the point of diggingout of his retreat and throwing himself again into the maelstrom ofsuffocating snow and darkness. And then he prayed the good Lord topreserve Bobby's life and his own, and to guide them back to safety, asonly He could, for they were in His care.

Even under the snowdrift that had quickly covered him Jimmy could hearthe shrieking wind and thunderous pounding of ice and seas, and therewas little wonder that at last he fancied the floe rising and fallingbeneath him, and he lay in momentary expectation of being cast into thewater and crushed beneath mighty ice pans.

But Jimmy was young, and nature's demands were strong upon him, andpresently, snug under his accumulating blanket of snow, a drowsy warmthstole over him, and he slept.

How long he had been sleeping Jimmy did not know, when he awoke from adream that he and Skipper Ed and Bobby were in a snow Igloo and thetop had fallen in and was suffocating him with its weight. For a moment,until he marshaled his wandering wits, he believed it no dream at all,but a reality, and then as the happenings of the previous afternoon andnight were remembered, he realized his position, and Bobby's going, andhe began wildly digging away the snow with his hands.

It was a hard task, but at last he made an opening through the drift,and was astonished as he forced his way out to find that it was broadday and the sun shone brightly and a dead calm prevailed.

But a wild terror came upon him as he looked about. Less than fifty feetfrom the place where he had lain waves were breaking over the edge ofthe ice. On the opposite side and very close to him lay the land, andthe ice upon which he stood was jammed against the land ice, offeringhim a clear road to safety.

But safety now meant nothing to Jimmy. The main ice pack from which hislittle section had broken, lay glimmering in the sunlight a full twomiles to the southeast and well out to sea, and Bobby was either on thatpack or had been lost in the sea. The discovery made Jimmy numb withfear and consternation.

He recognized the land near him as the farthermost point of CapeHarrigan. The pack in its southward drift had come in contact with CapeHarrigan's long projection of land, the wind had severed the pack, and,while the comparatively small section of floe upon which he stood hadremained jammed against the land, the main floe, reaching far out beyondthe obstruction of the cape, had been swept on and on, and was nowfloating steadily southward.

In frantic frenzy Jimmy ran about and shouted, and searched every nookand turn of his little corner of the original floe for Bobby, but therewas no trace of his missing comrade. Again and again he searched, butwithout reward. Bobby was gone and Jimmy no longer had any doubt that hehad perished.

With heavy heart he at last set about with his snow knife, digging thekomatik from under the drift and getting his load in order, and thenhe roused the dogs from their drifts and drove them to the land. Thegreat floe was now but a speck upon the far horizon.

There was nothing more he could do. He felt very much as Skipper Ed hadfelt the day before, and was feeling that very morning, and heremembered, and repeated over and over again, what Skipper Ed had sooften said: "Our destiny is in God's hands, and our destiny is Hiswill."

Jimmy's travels had carried him south nearly to Cape Harrigan on two orthree occasions when he had been with Skipper Ed in their trap boat insummer, and he knew that he could not be above two days' journey fromthe head of Abel's Bay, for now it was March and the days were growinglong. And between Cape Harrigan and Abel's Bay was a Hudson's Baytrading post where he and Skipper Ed sometimes traded furs and salttrout for flour and pork and tea, and beyond this point he knew thesledge route well.

So, as there was nothing else to be done, he turned the dog teamnorthward, in the hope that he might find the trading post and the oldfamiliar trail.

The weather was keen, the air was filled with floating rime, whichshimmered and sparkled in the sunshine, and Jimmy's garments werecovered with it, but, plodding disconsolately on and on, his heart heavywith the tragedy and his thoughts filled with Bobby and the happy yearsof comradeship that were ended, he did not feel or heed the cold ordazzling glitter of the snow, until in mid-afternoon his eyes began totrouble him, and he realized that snow-blindness was threatening.

Presently, however, the long, wolf-like howl of dogs came down to himover the ice, and rounding a point of land he discovered, directly aheadof him, and nestling at the foot of a great barren hill, the whitebuildings of the fort. His dogs immediately broke into a run, and a fewmoments later he was safe at the post.

The factor and the people were very hospitable and kind to Jimmy, afterthe manner of the Coast. They agreed that he had left nothing undonethat he could have done. The tragedy was, after all, an incident oflife, and all in a day's work, and to some extent they reconciled himwith himself, but they could not ease his sorrow.

They would not permit Jimmy to proceed further that night, though atfirst he protested that he must, that he might so much the sooner easeSkipper Ed's anxiety, so far as his own safety was concerned. But thepreceding twenty-four hours had tried his physical powers, and when heentered the heated post kitchen his eyes became so inflamed that heconsented to stay.

The dogs, which had not received their daily portion the previousevening, were ravenous, and when they were fed Jimmy stretched hissleeping bag upon the floor in the kitchen and slipped into it, andalmost immediately fell into deep slumber.

A mild attack of snow blindness held Jimmy prisoner all the next day.This was exceedingly disappointing. Bright and early the followingmorning, however, wearing a pair of smoked goggles to protect his eyesfrom the daily increasing sun glare, he set out for home, and onlyhalted for a little at the cabin of Abraham Moses, the nearest neighborof Skipper Ed and Abel Zachariah, where he must needs stop for tea andbread, else Abraham would feel offended.

It was near sunset when he arrived again at Abel Zachariah's. They methim as they had met Skipper Ed, and welcomed him warmly, and when theyheard his story of Bobby's disappearance they had no blame for him andno complaint, but said again that God had sent them Bobby, and God hadcalled him back again, and God knew best, for He was good. And thenJimmy left them and hurried eagerly on to the cabin home that sorecently had seemed lost to him forever. How good it looked that coldwinter evening, and when he quietly pushed the door open and silentlyentered, and surprised Skipper Ed with his coming, and when Skipper Edclasped him in his arms and thanked God over and over again for sparinghis partner, Jimmy sank down in his chair and cried.

CHAPTER XXVI

CAST AWAY ON THE ICE

It was one of Bobby's characteristics never to acknowledge himselfdefeated in anything he undertook to do, so long as there seemed apossibility of accomplishing the thing in hand. He had set out to find asuitable drift and to build a snow house. He was confident such a driftwas to be found not far from the komatik where he had left Jimmy, forin passing to Itigailit Island and back with loads of seals earlier inthe day he had observed some good hard drifts which he believed to be inthis locality, though he was aware that in the blinding snow he may havestopped the dogs a little on one side or the other of them. So he feltassured that he and Jimmy had overlooked them in their previous search,and this time he was determined to find them.

This it was, then—this dislike to feel himself beaten—rather than direnecessity, that had sent him on the final search. And, too, the man wholives constantly in the wilderness never endures unnecessary hardships.He makes himself as comfortable as the conditions under which he liveswill permit, and provides himself as many conveniences and comforts aspossible under the circumstances in which he finds himself, withoutburdening himself with needless luxuries.

Bobby had hinted to Jimmy that they might protect themselves under thesnow, after the manner of the dogs. He had done this once during thewinter, when he and Abel Zachariah were hunting together and weresuddenly overtaken by a storm. But at best this was an uncomfortablemethod of passing a night, and a last resort, and Bobby was thereforequite willing to endure preliminary discomfort in order to secure anigloo.

Engrossed in his search he wandered much farther afield than he hadintended, and much farther than he knew, which was a reckless thing todo. And so it came about that presently, when his search was rewarded bya solid drift of hard-packed snow, and he shouted to Jimmy to come onwith the dogs, no answer came from Jimmy, and Bobby, endeavoring tolocate himself, became quite confused and uncertain as to the directionin which Jimmy and the komatik lay, for his course had been a windingcourse, in and out among the hummocks, and in the blinding, swirlingsnow he could never see a dozen feet from where he stood.

Then he shouted again and listened intently, and again and again, butonly the roar and boom of sea and pounding ice and the shrieking andweird moaning of the wind gave answer.

"Well, I've lost Jimmy, sure enough," he acknowledged to himself atlast, after much futile shouting, "and I'm lost myself, too! I don'tknow north from south, and I couldn't hit in ten guesses in whichdirection the komatik is! This is a pretty mess!"

Dusk was not far off, and there was no time to be lost, and withoutfurther parley or useless waste of breath and strength Bobby set bravelyto work with his snow knife, as any wilderness dweller in similar casewould have done, and in a little while had prepared for himself agrave-shaped cavern in the drift, with a stout roof of snow blocks, andwhen it was finished he crawled in and closed the entrance with a hugeblock.

This emergency shelter was, of course, not to be compared with aproperly built igloo, but an igloo he could scarcely have built inthe face of the storm without assistance. It was, however, much morecomfortable than a burrow in the drift, such as Jimmy had made, for itgave him an opportunity to turn over and stretch his limbs, and itafforded him, also, a considerable breathing space.

"'Twould be fine, now, if I only had my sleeping bag," he soliloquized,when he had at last composed himself in his improvised shelter. "I hopeJimmy's just as snug. I told him about getting in the snow like the dogsdo, and he'll do it and be all right, and he's got his sleeping bag,too."

Bobby was not given to vain regrets and needless worry, as we have seen,but nevertheless he could not keep his mind from the possible fate ofhimself and Jimmy, and think as he would he could conceive of nopossible means of their escape, save in the possibility of the floecoming again in contact with land. Then his thoughts ran to Abel andMrs. Abel, and before he was aware of it he was crying bitterly.

"If I'd only hurried on, as Skipper Ed told me to!" he moaned. "I'malways doing something! And there's Jimmy in the—in the fix too! And itwas all my fault!"

And then he remembered the evening devotions that Abel and Mrs. Abelwere doubtless then holding in the cabin. He could see Abel taking theold worn Eskimo Bible and hymnal from the shelf, and Abel reading andthe two good folks singing a hymn, and then kneeling in praise andthanks to God for his mercies. And joining them in spirit he sang theEskimo version of "Nearer My God to Thee," and then he knelt and prayed,and felt the better for it.

For a long while he lay, after his devotions were ended, recalling thekindness of his beloved foster parents. But at last he, too, like Jimmy,fell asleep to the tune of the booming ice and howling wind, and,exhausted with his day's work, he slept long and heavily.

When Bobby awoke at last he perceived that it was twilight in his snowcavern, and, listening for the wind, discovered to his satisfaction thatit had ceased to blow.

"Now I'll find Jimmy," said he, seizing his snow knife, "and see how hespent the night in the storm."

He removed the snow block from the entrance and cut away theaccumulated drift, and crawling out at once looked about him withastonished eyes. On one side very near where he had been sleeping waveswere breaking upon the ice, and far away beyond the waters lay the bleakand naked headland of Cape Harrigan. In the east the sun was justrising, and the snow of the ice pack sparkled and glittered withwondrous beauty.

But Bobby saw only the open water, and the distant land, and nowhereJimmy or the dogs. A sickening dread came into his heart. The water hadeaten away the ice as he slept! That was the side upon which Jimmy musthave been! Jimmy was gone! He had no doubt Jimmy's body was now floatingsomewhere in that stretch of black water!

Then he ran out over the ice and among the hummocks, shouting: "Jimmy!Jimmy! Answer me, Jimmy, and tell me you're alive! Oh, Jimmy! Tell meyou're alive!"

But no Jimmy answered, and, overcome with grief, Bobby sat down upon thesnow and threw his arms over his knees, and, pillowing his head in thecrook of his elbow, wept.

"It's all my fault! It's all my fault!" he moaned. "I the same as killedhim! I led him into it! Oh, if I hadn't gone back for the whip! Oh, ifI'd only hurried when Skipper Ed told me to!"

But Bobby was young and healthy and active, and had an appetite, and theair was excessively cold. The appetite began to call for food and drink,and the cold drove him to exercise. And so, rising at last and dryinghis eyes, he very wisely resolved:

"There's no good to come from crying or mourning about Jimmy, I suppose,or what's past. I've got to do something for myself now. There's achance the ice may drive back with a shift of wind, and I've got to tryto keep alive as long as I can."

He had nothing to eat, no cup into which to melt ice for water, and nolamp or seal oil with which to make a fire over which to melt the icehad he possessed a cup, but he set out at a rapid pace to explore theice field, clinging as he walked to his snow knife, the only weapon hepossessed, for his rifle had been left upon the komatik, and in alittle while he discovered that the pack was not so large as he hadsupposed it to be, for the heavy seas of the night before had eaten awayits edges. It had broken away, indeed, to a point far within theboundaries of their old igloo and the place where they had hunted.

"The first little blow will break the whole floe up," he saiddejectedly. "Anyhow I suppose it won't matter, for I'll soon starve todeath without a gun."

But out to the southward lay a great field of ice, and it seemed not sofar away. An hour's observation assured Bobby that his small floe wastraveling much more rapidly than this larger field, and was graduallyapproaching it. Late in the afternoon he caught the glint of miniaturebergs, as the sunlight touched them, rising above the great floe ahead,and as he watched them a burst of understanding came upon him.

"It's the great North pack!" he exclaimed. "It's the Arctic pack! If Ican get on that I'll be safe from drowning, anyhow, for a few days! It'sstronger than this, and it'll stand some good blows."

To quench his thirst he clipped particles of ice with his snow knife andsucked them, while he ran up and down to keep warm. And, as nightapproached, he built a new night shelter from snow blocks, near thecenter of his floe, and, very hungry and despondent, crawled into it tolie long and think of Abel Zachariah and Mrs. Abel, and the losthappiness in the cabin which was his home; and of Skipper Ed and Jimmy,and of the old days that were now gone forever, when he and Jimmy hadplayed together with never a thought of the terrible fate that awaitedthem; and of the adventure on the cliff, and the hundred other scrapesinto which they had got and from which they had somehow always escapedunharmed; and even of the lonely grave on Itigailit Island, and thecairn of stones he had built upon it.

"A tragedy brought me into the country," he said to himself, "and atragedy has taken me out of it, and the end of my life will be atragedy."

And then, after long thought:

"Skipper Ed says our destiny is God's will. But God always has apurpose in His will. I wonder if I've fulfilled my destiny, and what thepurpose of it was. Maybe it was just to be a son to Father and Mother."

He mused upon this for a long time, and then his thoughts ran to SkipperEd and Jimmy:

"I wonder what there is in Skipper Ed's life that he's never told us,"he pondered. "He's always said he was a wandering sailorman, who stoppedon the coast because he liked it. He never was a common sailor, I'msure. I never thought of that before! Sailors aren't educated, and heis! And whenever Jimmy or I asked him to tell about his own life beforehe came here he always put us off with something else."

And then he fell asleep to dream that he and Skipper Ed were walkingunder strange trees, with flowers, the like of which he had never seen,blooming all about them and making the air sweet with their perfume.

CHAPTER XXVII

A STRUGGLE FOR EXISTENCE

It was fortunate that Bobby had selected the center of the floe for hisnight shelter, for when he awoke in the morning and crawled out of hissnow cavern he discovered that the unstable shore ice of which the floewas composed had been gradually breaking up during the night intoseparate pans, and that he was now upon a comparatively small floe,little more indeed than a large pan, which had originally been thecenter of the great floe upon which he went adrift.

Surrounding him was a mass of loose pans, rising and falling on theswell, and grinding and crunching against one another with a voice ofominous warning. With quick appreciation he was aware that his positionwas now indeed a perilous one, for it was obvious that his small remnantof floe was rapidly going to pieces.

But another and more sinister danger threatened him, should he escapedrowning. Bobby was ravenously hungry. He had eaten nothing since thehasty luncheon of sea biscuit and pork on the night he and Jimmy parted.He had been terribly hungry the day before, but now he was ravenous andhe felt gaunt and weak. As though to tantalize him, numerous seals laysunning themselves upon the ice pans, for it was now past sunrise, buthis only weapon was his snow knife, and he was well aware that the sealswould slip into the water and beyond his reach before he could approachand despatch them.

Looking away over the mass of moving ice he discovered to his delightthat the loose pans surrounding the little floe upon which he stoodreached out in a continuous field to the great Arctic pack which he hadwatched so anxiously the previous day. And, what was particularly tohis satisfaction, the pans were so closely massed together that byjumping from pan to pan he was quite certain he could make the passagesafely, and for a time at least be secure from the threatening sea.

Running over loose ice pans in this manner was not wholly new to Bobby.Every hunter in the Eskimo country learns to do it, and Bobby had oftenpracticed it in Abel's Bay when the water was calm and the ice pans to agreat extent stationary. But he had never attempted it on the open seawhere the pans were never free from motion. It was, therefore, thoughnot an unusual feat for the experienced seal hunter, a hazardousundertaking.

The situation, however, demanded prompt action. Should wind arise theice pans would quickly be scattered, and all possibility of retreat tothe big ice field cut off.

Bobby, after his manner, not only decided quickly what to do, but actedimmediately upon his decision. The distance to be traversed was probablynot much above a mile, and, selecting a course where the pans appearedclosely in contact with one another, he seized his snow knife, which hehad no doubt he would still find useful in preparing shelters, andleaping from pan to pan set out without hesitation upon his uncertainjourney.

It was a feat that required a steady nerve, a quick eye, and alertaction, for the ice was constantly rising and falling upon the swell.Now and again there were gaps of several yards, where the ice had beenground into pieces so small that none would have borne his weight. Heran rapidly over these gaps, touching the ice as lightly as possible andnot remaining upon any piece long enough to permit it to sink.

And so it came about that presently with a vast sense of relief Bobbyclambered from the last unstable ice pan to the big ice pack, and for atime, at least, felt that he had escaped the sea.

For a moment he stood and looked back over the hazardous path that hehad traversed. Then climbing upon a high hummock, which attained theproportions of a small berg, he scanned his surroundings.

To the northward lay the loose ice; to the eastward and southward asfar as he could see stretched the unbroken ice of the great field; tothe westward and two miles distant was the black water of the open sea,dotted here and there by vagrant pans of ice which glistened white inthe bright sunlight as they rose and fell upon the tide.

Suddenly his attention was attracted to something which made him starein astonishment and wonder. Near the water's edge, and extending backfrom the water for a considerable distance, there appeared innumerabledark objects, some lying quiet upon the ice, others moving slowly about.

"Seals!" exclaimed Bobby. "Seals! Hundreds—thousands of them! I can getone now before they take to the water! They're too far back to get tothe water before I can get at them!"

And scrambling down from the hummock he set out as fast as he could go,highly excited at the prospect of food that had so suddenly come to him.

"Oh, if I can get one!" he said as he ran, "if I can only get one! Godhelp me to get one!"

With this prayer on his lips, and keen anxiety in his breast, he nearedthe seals. Then, all of his hunter's instincts alert, his advance becameslow and cautious. Crouching among hummocks, he watched his prey, andstudied the intervening ice, and its possible sheltering hummocks.Carefully he stalked, now standing still as a statue, now dartingforward, and at last proceeding on all fours until finally he was quitecertain that those farthest from the water could not escape him. Thenspringing to his feet he ran at them.

Bobby had until now kept his nerves under control, but with the attack awild desperation took possession of him, and looking neither to one sidenor the other he slaughtered the seals, one after another, as heovertook them, until, the first frenzy of success past, he realized thathe had already killed more than he could probably use. Then he stopped,trembling with excitement, and looked about him. Five victims of the twospecies known to him as harp and jar seals had fallen under his knife.

Now he could eat. This thought brought relaxation from the greatphysical strain and mental anxiety that had spurred him to activity andkeyed his nerves to a high pitch since leaving his snow cavern early inthe morning, and with the relaxation he was overcome by emotion. Tearssprang to his eyes, and suddenly he felt very weak.

"The Lord surely has been taking care of me. Maybe it is my destiny tolive, after all, and if I get out of this I'll never forget 'twas theLord took me through."

Bobby's undivided attention until this time had been centered upon theseals which he had attacked, which were among those farthest from theopen water. Now as he dried his eyes and, still trembling from effortand excitement, drew his sheath knife to dress the animals, he lookedabout him, and what he saw brought forth an exclamation:

"Puppies! That's what all the seals are here for!"

And, sure enough, lying about on the ice were a great number of littlewhite balls, so small and white they had escaped his notice at adistance, and each white ball was a new-born seal. That, then, was whyold seals were so numerous and so fearless.

But Bobby had no time to think about this. Hunger was crying to besatisfied, and now that food was at hand he was hungrier than ever. Asquickly as he could he dressed one of the seals, and as he had no meansof cooking the meat made a satisfactory meal upon the raw flesh andblubber, after the manner of Eskimos.

This done he looked about him for a suitable place to build a shelter,and finding a good drift not far away set about his building withgreater care than on the night before, and before noon time had a smallbut well-fashioned igloo erected with a tunnel leading to the entrancethat he might better be protected from the wind.

He now skinned and dressed the remaining seals, and spreading the skinsfor a bed on his igloo floor felt himself very comfortably situatedunder the circumstances.

"Now," said he, surveying his work, "if I only had a lamp and a kettle Icould get on all right till the ice drives ashore or I'm picked up orthe pack goes to pieces and I won't need to get along any more."

But this last thought he quickly put from him with the exclamation:"That's silly! I won't worry now till I have to. I'll just do my bestfor myself, and if the Lord wants me to live He'll show me how to savemyself, or He'll save me."

Then Bobby sat down to think. The pieces of ice which he melted in hismouth in lieu of water he was convinced had a weakening effect upon him,and his mouth was becoming tender and sore from sucking them, and hepreferred his meat cooked. He had plenty of matches in his pocket, forthe man who lives always in the wilderness is never without a goodsupply, but since he had gone adrift they had been of no use to him,without means or method of making a fire.

"I've got it!" said he at last, springing up. "I'm sure it will work!"

Opening the jackknife he cut from one of the skins a large circularpiece, and at regular intervals near the edge of this made small slits.Then from the edge of a skin he cut a long, narrow thong, and proceededto thread it through the slits. This done he tightened the thong,puckering the edge of the circular piece of skin until it assumed theform of a shallow bowl perhaps fifteen inches wide. This he set into asnow block in order that it might set firm and retain its shape. Thiswas to be his Eskimo lamp.

Now he tore a strip from his shirt, folded it to proper size, filled hislamp with oil from the blubber, drove the point of his snow knife intothe side of his igloo in such manner that the side rested in a flatposition on the top of the bowl, and saturating the cloth with the oilhe arranged it upon the knife, taking care that it did not touch eitherside of the bowl. This he lighted, and to his great delight found thathis lamp was a success.

It was easy to grill small pieces of seal meat over this, but theproblem of melting ice for water was a puzzling one. Finally this, too,was solved, by improvising another bowl from sealskin and suspendingover it a piece of ice. This bowl he held as near as possible to theflame without putting it in danger of scorching the skin. The ice,suspended by a thong directly above the bowl and a little on one side ofthe flame, began at once to drip water into the bowl. The waterresulting was very oily and unclean, but Bobby in his position hadneither a discriminating taste nor a discriminating appetite.

"Well," said Bobby that evening when he had settled himself comfortablyafter a good meal of grilled meat, "this isn't as comfortable as home,but it's away ahead of raw meat and ice, and no igloo at all. And it'ssafe for a while, anyhow."

And so our young adventurer took up his lonely life upon the shiftingice, and day after day he watched the baby seals grow, and wondered atit, for each morning they were visibly larger than they had been theprevious night. And he wondered, too, that each mother should know herown little one, by merely sniffing about, for the babies, or "whitecoats" as he called them, were as like as peas.

Thus he had lived ten lonely days, and sometimes he believed God hadforgotten him, when one morning a black streak appeared in the sky andthen another and another, and something wonderful happened, for God hadnot forgotten Bobby and was guiding his destiny.

CHAPTER XXVIII

THE SHIPS THAT CAME DOWN TO THE ICE

Closer and closer came the three black streaks, and presently the masts,then the funnels, and finally the hulls of three ships appeared, firstone, then another, then the third. Bobby watched them with awe andwonder. He even forgot for a time that a way was opening for his escape.

The three ships were streaming directly toward the ice, and in thecourse of an hour after he had first sighted them the advance ship cameto, half a mile or so from the floe, and not above a mile to thesouthward of him. Boats were lowered before the steamer had fullystopped, and immediately men swarmed over her sides and into them, andin a moment the boats put off for the ice, the men climbed out upon itand presently were running everywhere, beating to the right and to theleft with clubs.

Then the boats returned to the ship to fetch more men, and still more,until there were more men upon the ice than Bobby had ever seen before,and all beating about them with their clubs. So it was with the otherships as they came up; they, too, sent scores upon scores of men to theice in boats.

Bobby was astonished beyond measure at what he saw, and at first he wasafraid, and watched from a distance. But at last he recalled that he hadheard of this thing before. These were the seal hunters fromNewfoundland, and with bats they were slaying the young white-coatseals, and such of the old seals, also, as did not slip away from theminto the water.

Finally some of the sealers from the first ship were making their way upover the ice in the direction of Bobby's igloo, and presently he knewthey would be upon the very seals that he had watched with so muchinterest growing from day to day. Among these were two men with guns,instead of clubs, and these two devoted their attention to the oldseals, which now and again they shot.

Overcome with awe and wonder, and timid in the presence of so manystrangers, Bobby kept himself from view while he watched, though he knewthat presently he would be called upon to present himself, in order thathe might escape from the floe, for in all probability no otheropportunity would come to him.

So, uncertain, expectant, and trembling with excitement, he remainedconcealed behind an ice hummock until the seal hunters in advance hadnearly reached him, and further concealment was impossible. Then hestepped boldly out.

The effect of Bobby's appearance was instantaneous and wonderful. A manin the advance, looking up, saw the strangely clad figure apparentlyrise out of the ice itself. The man turned about and wildly broke forthe boats. Then another and another took one terrified glance at thesupposed apparition, and tarrying not, turned about to compete with thefirst in a mad race for the boats. Shouts of "Ghost! Ghost!" filled theair, and then the stampede and panic became general, though after themanner of panic-stricken crowds, perhaps none but the first two or threehad the slightest idea why or from what they were running.

The two men with guns were still some little distance from Bobby whenthe stampede began. One of these men was perhaps twenty-three ortwenty-four years of age, the other many years his senior. They weredressed after the manner of sportsmen, and were evidently not members ofthe sealing crew. They did not join in the stampede as the men rushedpast them in wild flight and confusion, but in utter astonishment lookedfor its cause in the direction from which the men had come, anddiscovered nothing more terrifying than Bobby, standing alone and noless astonished at what had occurred than themselves, and more than halfinclined to run as fast in the opposite direction as the sealers had runtoward their boats.

"Uncle, there's an Eskimo!" exclaimed the younger of the two, observingBobby's seal-skin garments, but at that distance unable to note that hisfeatures were wholly unlike those of an Eskimo.

"Sure enough!" said the older man. "That explains it! The men weren'texpecting to see any one, and they've taken him for a ghost! Come on,Edward. Let us interview him."

"How could an Eskimo get out here on the floe?" asked Edward, as theyset out toward Bobby. "We're a long way from land."

"I don't know," said his companion. "We'll soon learn. But Eskimohunters go a long way after seals, and he's probably on a huntingexpedition."

"Why, he hasn't the features of an Eskimo, though he's dressed like one;and he's a handsome looking chap!" said Edward, in an undertone, as theydrew near Bobby, who had overcome his inclination to run and had notmoved.

"Good-morning!" greeted the older man a moment later, when they werewithin speaking distance.

"Good-morning, sir," said Bobby, timidly.

"We thought you were an Eskimo, and" laughing, "the men apparentlythought you were a ghost. You gave them a fine fright."

"I didn't mean to frighten them," said Bobby apologetically. "I only wanted them to take me off the ice."


I was hunting," explained Bobby. "The ice broke looseand cut Jimmy and me off from Skipper Ed

"Take you off the ice? Why, how did you get on it? We thought perhapsyou were hunting."

"I was hunting," explained Bobby, "but now I'm adrift. I'm BobbyZachariah, from Abel's Bay. The ice broke loose and cut Jimmy and meoff from Skipper Ed, and Jimmy's drowned—"

Tears came into Bobby's eyes and he choked at the recollection.

"I'm Frederick Winslow," said the man kindly and sympathetically, takingBobby's hand, "and this is my nephew Edward Norman. We do not know whereAbel's Bay is, nor who Skipper Ed and Jimmy are, but we're glad we foundyou, and you're to go with us to the ship, and then you can tell usabout it, and there'll be a way to send you home to Abel's Bay."

"Edward Norman!" exclaimed Bobby. "Why, that's Skipper Ed's name!"

"Who is Skipper Ed?" inquired Mr. Winslow. "But never mind. Don'texplain now. You must be nearly starved if you've been adrift long. Comewith us."

"I've been over a week—nearly two weeks, I think," said Bobby, "but I'mnot hungry. I've had plenty of seals. Let me get my snow knife, sir.It's in the igloo."

Then they went with Bobby and marveled at his igloo, and his crudelamp, which they must have as a souvenir, and that Bobby had notperished. And praised him for a brave lad, as they led him off. AndBobby, who saw nothing wonderful or strange in his igloo or lamp, oranything he had done, said little, but followed timidly. And when themen he had frightened so badly learned that Bobby was a castaway and avery real person and not a ghost at all, they vied with one another inshowering kindnesses upon him, for these men of the fleets, though a bitrough, and a bit superstitious at times, have big brave hearts, filledwith sympathy for their kind.

And so it came about that Bobby, who had come to the Coast a driftingwaif of the sea, was carried from it by the sea. And now he was to seethe land of strange trees and flowers and green fields of which SkipperEd had so often told when they sat in the big chairs before the fire onwinter evenings. And many other wonderful things were in store forBobby.

CHAPTER XXIX

IN STRANGE LANDS

Mr. Winslow and his nephew Edward Norman were sportsmen who, as manyother sportsmen had done before them and have done since, had gone aspassengers with the sealing fleet that they might see the big ice andsecure for themselves trophies of the seal hunt of their own killing.And so it came about that they met Bobby, and took him under their care.Indeed, Mr. Winslow felt an unusual interest in the lad from the momenthe met him, for Bobby had an open, frank countenance and a pleasingmanner.

But they would not permit him to talk or tell them much of his storyuntil they had him on shipboard, and Bobby had eaten and bathed andchanged his ill-smelling skin clothing for a suit that Edward Normanpressed upon him. And though the clothes were a trifle large, and thetrousers two or three inches longer than was necessary, they set Bobbyoff to good advantage and wrought a wonderful change in his appearance.

"You're to stay in the cabin as our guest," said Mr. Winslow when Bobbywas dressed, and would have gone forward to the sailors' quarters. "Ihave arranged it with the Captain. I am very much interested in what yousaid about Skipper Ed. His name, you said, is Edward Norman. Who is he?"

"Skipper Ed's our nearest neighbor," Bobby explained simply.

"Do you call him 'Skipper' because he is a sea captain? Has he alwayslived on the Labrador coast? You see," added Mr. Winslow, "I'm greatlyinterested because his name is the same as my nephew's. It is a strangecoincidence, and we should like to learn all about him."

"We've always called him 'Skipper,'" answered Bobby. "He was a sailoronce, but that was long before I came. He's lived at Abel's Bay, I heardhim say, over twenty years. He's told Jimmy and me a lot about HarvardCollege, and when he was a boy he lived in a place called Carrington—"

"What! Carrington?" exclaimed Mr. Winslow. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, sir," said Bobby. "He's often told Jimmy and me about his homethere when he was a boy."

The two men looked at each other and they were plainly excited, and inan intensely expectant voice Mr. Winslow asked:

"Did he ever speak of his family?"

"Yes, sir—of his father and mother and brother and sister," said Bobby.

"Anything else?"

"Why, yes, sir; about the trees and flowers and garden and—"

"I mean about himself," interrupted Mr. Winslow. "Did he ever tell youabout a bank, or why he left home?"

"No, sir," said Bobby. "I remember, though, a story he used to tell usabout two boys whose father had a bank. One borrowed some money from thebank and lost it gambling, and because he had a wife and little childthe other brother told their father that he did it, though he didn'tknow anything about it until after it was done. The brother that tookthe money tried to stop him. The father of the boys sent the one whosaid he took the money away, and he went and settled in a land like TheLabrador, and never saw his old home or any of his people again."

The two men were leaning eagerly forward during this recital. When Bobbyhad finished they sat back and looked into each other's eyes, and aftera moment Mr. Winslow spoke:

"There is no doubt, Edward, that Skipper Ed is your uncle—your father'sbrother who disappeared so long ago, when you were a baby."

"Yes," agreed Edward, "and we must go to him and take him home again."

"You—don't—mean—you're Skipper Ed's people?" stammered the astonishedBobby.

"Yes," said Mr. Winslow, "Edward's father and Skipper Ed were, I believefrom what you have told us, brothers, and in that case Mrs. Winslow isSkipper Ed's sister. She was a little girl when he went away. We mustlook into the matter, and we shall all be very glad if it proves to betrue."

And then they talked for a long while, and drew from Bobby the story oftheir life at Abel's Bay—of how Skipper Ed had taught him and Jimmy,and the evenings spent in talking and studying in the easy chairs beforethe big box stove in Skipper Ed's cabin, and about Abel Zachariah andMrs. Abel—so much, in fact, about their daily lives and hopes anddisappointments that presently his two hearers felt that they had knownBobby and his friends all their life.

And Bobby told them the story of his own coming to the Coast, as he hadheard it from Abel and Mrs. Abel many a time, of how he had been founddrifting in a boat with a dead man, of the grave Abel had made onItigailit Island for his dead companion, and the cairn he himself hadbuilt.

"We have the boat yet," said Bobby, "for it was a good boat. Father hasalways taken great care of it. He and Mother always say it's the boatGod sent me in out of the mists from the far beyond, where storms areborn."

"What a romantic life you've led!" said Edward. "Your very advent uponthe Coast was romantic—and tragic. And the way we found you today is noless so."

"Have you no clue that would help you identify yourself? No clue as towhere you came from? Was there nothing to identify the dead man?" askedMr. Winslow.

"No," answered Bobby, "and I've never thought about it very much. Motherhas the clothes I wore, wrapped in a bundle and stowed into a chest.I've often seen the bundle, but I never undid it or meddled with it forshe prizes it so."

"It was probably a boat from a whaling or fishing ship that waswrecked," Mr. Winslow suggested. "Perhaps you were the captain's son.You should look into the bundle; it may help to identify you, and youmay have relatives living, perhaps in Newfoundland, who would be glad toknow of you."

For two weeks the Fearless, which was the ship upon which Mr. Winslowand his nephew were passengers, remained near the ice, her crew ofnearly two hundred men engaged in killing seals and in loading themaboard, and then at last, with a cargo of nearly forty thousandcarcasses, she set sail to the southward.

The days were lengthening rapidly now, and with every mile theatmosphere grew milder. The Labrador coast was still ice-bound, and itwould be many weeks before the harbors were cleared and vessels couldenter them, but Mr. Winslow promised Bobby that as early as conditionswould permit they would sail northward to Abel's Bay, and perhapscharter a vessel for the journey. Indeed, he and Edward were nearly ifnot quite as anxious for this as Bobby.

It was during the first week in April that the Fearless steamed intoSt. John's harbor, and Bobby for the first time in his life saw a city,and great buildings, and railway trains, and horses—horses were hisgreat mark of admiration—and very shy he was, for he had beentransported to a world that was new to him.

And then, in a swirl of ever-growing wonders, they were away on arailway train, and for a night on a steamer, and again on a train,moving at a gait that made Bobby's head whirl, and at last budding treeswere seen, and green fields—all the marvelous things of which SkipperEd had so often told him.

At last they left the train one evening at Carrington, which, aseveryone knows, is a suburb of Boston. Bobby was hurried with Mr.Winslow and Edward Norman into an automobile, which whirled away withthem to a great old house, where they were greeted at the door by Mrs.Winslow, whom Bobby thought nice and motherly, and whom he loved atonce; and by a white-haired old gentleman and old lady who Bobby learnedwere Edward's grandparents.

Bobby was made quite dizzy by much talking and by innumerable questionsthat he was called upon to answer, and when Mrs. Winslow and thewhite-haired old lady cried at the story of Skipper Ed, and the oldgentleman repeated over and over again: "Is it possible! Is it possible!My poor Edward! My long lost boy!" he almost cried himself, though hecould see nothing to cry about, really, except Jimmy's supposed death.

And then came wonderful days while Bobby watched the marvelousblossoming of the trees in the garden, and as they were transformed intomasses of pink and white, and flower beds became spots of glowing color,he believed a miracle had been performed before his very eyes—as,indeed, one had. And there were times when he believed he must bedreaming, and not living in the world at all, and then he would pinchhimself to make certain he was really alive and awake, and that he hadnot perished on the ice after all and awakened in Paradise.

But in his room of nights when the lights were out and he was alone andall was still, he had many sleepless and homesick hours. Then it was helonged for the old times again in the cozy cabins, and for AbelZachariah and Mrs. Abel, and Skipper Ed and Jimmy, and felt that hewould give all the world to have them back.

And so the weeks passed until the lengthening days of June were welladvanced, and Mr. Winslow announced that he had chartered a smallauxiliary schooner and that she was ready for the northern voyage, andthen for two nights before their departure for St. John's, where theschooner was in waiting, Bobby could scarcely sleep at all, so eager washe to return home to Abel Zachariah and Mrs. Abel, that they might knowhe still lived, for he often thought of them there in the cabin, verylonely without him.

One day late in June Mr. and Mrs. Winslow, with Edward Norman and Bobby,went down to Boston, where they boarded their steamer, and immediatelythe lines were thrown off and the steamer had turned her prow seaward,Bobby nearly shouted with joy, and every throb of the steamer's engine,and every turn of the propeller, brought fresh delight to his heart,for they were beating away the miles that separated him from home.

In Halifax there was a day's vexatious delay while they awaited the St.John's steamer, but at last it came, and at last they were on board theschooner Gull in St. John's harbor, and at last the Gull was plowingnorthward past stately icebergs glimmering in the sunshine, and vagrantpans of ice rising and falling on the swell, and home was drawing near.

CHAPTER XXX

THE MYSTERY CLEARED

How slowly those last days dragged away! Bobby could scarcely restrainhis impatience. But one day in the middle of July Itigailit Island wassighted, and that evening the Gull anchored in its lee. Abel Zachariahhad not come out to his fishing yet, and the island was bare anddeserted. Bobby's emotion nearly got the better of him when heremembered that stormy winter's day when he had last been here, withSkipper Ed and Jimmy.

They launched a motor boat with which they had provided themselves, andwent ashore for a half hour, while Bobby pointed out Abel's landingplace, and the place where they always pitched their tent, and where thesnow igloo had stood. The seals were gone, so Bobby knew Skipper Edand Abel had hauled them home before the ice broke up.

And then Bobby took his friends to see the grave, and the cairn he hadbuilt over it, and for a little they stood, in silence and in pity forthe nameless man who lay there.

Day comes early in this latitude at this season, and at two o'clock, inthe morning twilight, anchor was weighed, sails hoisted before a goodfair breeze, and the Gull was plowing her way into Abel's Bay, withBobby as pilot, for he knew its waters as you and I know our citystreets. And what old friends the distant mountains and headlandsseemed, as he pointed them out to his companions!

It was mid-afternoon when the Gull at last approached the head ofAbel's Bay, and in the distance the two cabins gradually came into view.Skipper Ed's cabin was the nearer, and their course was laid toward it,and presently two figures were discerned at the boat landing.

"That's the Skipper on the left!" exclaimed Bobby. "I know him becausehe's so tall! The other must be Father, but he doesn't look likeFather, either!"

And then, standing intently gazing at the men, he suddenly shouted:

"It's Jimmy! Oh, it's Jimmy! He was saved! He was saved! He was saved!Oh, thank God, he was saved!"

And in spite of himself tears of joy sprang to Bobby's eyes, and heleaned over the rail and shouted and shouted, and waved his hat, and atlast Skipper Ed and Jimmy heard, and they knew his voice, and they tooshouted and waved their hats, in no less excitement and joy than Bobby.

Presently the Gull's sails were run down, her chains rattled, and shewas at anchor. As quickly as might be the launch, which was in tow, wasdrawn alongside, and Bobby, with Mr. and Mrs. Winslow and Edward Norman,were chugging toward the landing, where the two eager men stood to greetthem.

It would be quite impossible to describe the joy of the greeting, andthe explanations and the reunion that followed. As quickly as he coulddo so Bobby, with Jimmy to accompany him, ran away to make glad thehearts of Abel Zachariah and Mrs. Abel, who greeted him as he knew theywould, and who believed they had never been so happy in their life. Andembracing Bobby, Mrs. Abel cried over him, and they both declared thatGod was better to them than they deserved.

Skipper Ed was indeed the long lost Edward Norman. His brother, youngEdward's father, had confessed shortly after Edward's disappearance allthat had taken place. He was forgiven and made restitution, and hadnever again gambled. Several years later he and his wife were lost atsea, with Mr. and Mrs. Winslow's little son.

It had happened many years before. Robert Norman, Skipper Ed's brother,was invited, with his wife and Mr. and Mrs. Winslow, to cruise in afriend's yacht. Mrs. Winslow falling ill was unable to go, and thereforeMr. Winslow also declined the invitation. Robert and his wife urged,however, that the Winslows' little son, who was a namesake of Robert andof whom they were exceedingly fond, be permitted to accompany them. Thechild had been in poor health, and upon the recommendation of theirphysician consent was finally given. Edward, who was attending school atthe time, was not of the party.

The yacht had voyaged northward, stopping for several days at variousports from which letters were received. Finally a letter from Sydney,Nova Scotia, stated that the party had decided upon a still morenortherly cruise, and for a little while might not be in touch with themails. That was the last that was ever heard of the yacht or any one onboard.

And so for a full three hours they talked of home, and sorrowed overlong-ago partings and the dead, and rejoiced over their reunion and theliving, until Skipper Ed suggested that they all pay their respects toAbel Zachariah and Mrs. Abel, and complained that he had hardly seenBobby at all, and that they had not become properly acquainted with hispartner, who had run off to Abel's with Bobby, which was quite to beexpected under the circumstances, for the two boys were like brothers.

Because it was easier for Mrs. Winslow than the rough and wet path, theychugged over in the motor boat, and were met at the landing by Abel andMrs. Abel, who saw them coming and ran down to meet them, with muchgood-natured laughter, and ushered them into the cabin where, after thehospitable fashion of the country, they were called upon to drink tea.

"Bobby," suggested Mr. Winslow, when they had risen from the table,"I'm immensely interested in what you told me about yourself. May we notsee the package of which you spoke? It might throw some light upon yourparentage."

And when Bobby told Mrs. Abel that the visitors had requested to see thelittle clothes he wore when they found him, she and Abel were greatlypleased, for they were proud of Bobby, and without delay she opened thechest in which she kept her treasures and brought forth a neatly wrappedpackage, which she delivered to Mr. Winslow.

For many years the package had not been opened. It was covered withcloth, and tied with a buckskin thong. Mr. Winslow placed it on thetable, and as he undid it the others grouped themselves around him.

On the top of the package lay the little dress. He lifted it and shookit out and held it up for inspection, and then a strange thing happened.Mrs. Winslow, mildly curious, had been standing by Skipper Ed. Her facesuddenly went white, she reached for the garment, examined it for amoment, and then exclaimed:

"Oh, my little Bobby! Oh, my little boy! That was his dress! It washis!"

There was excitement at once. Mrs. Winslow became so dizzy and faintthat Skipper Ed sat her in a chair. Mr. Winslow's hand trembled as heexamined the other articles of clothing. Then he opened the wallet inwhich Mrs. Abel had placed Bobby's little ring, for he had long sinceoutgrown it.

"The ring Robert gave him on his third birthday, just before they leftus!" said Mrs. Winslow, bursting into tears. "His name is init—'Bobby.' Let me see it."

She was right. The identification was perfect. But none seemed yet toremember that the tall, handsome lad standing with them was the sameBobby. The parents were lost in the sorrowful yesterday and forgetful ofthe happy today, until Skipper Ed asked:

"What was the name of the yacht in which they were lost?"

"The Wanderer," said Mr. Winslow.

"The boat Bobby was found in was a yacht's boat, and it bore the nameWanderer. There's no doubt, I think, of the identification. Bobby,you scamp, why aren't you kissing your mother? Quick, now. And there'syour own father, too; and don't forget I'm your old uncle."

Suddenly this brought the father and mother to a realization that thisBobby was their Bobby—their lost child—the boy they had so longmourned as dead—and they drew him to them and the mother wept over him,and fondled him and caressed him, and for a time there was so muchconfusion, with every one talking and nobody listening, that they quiteforgot the notebook. But at last, when some order had been restored, Mr.Winslow opened it, and read. It contained some odds and ends of items,with a closing entry which cleared up much of the mystery of theWanderer:

"At sea, in an open boat," it was dated.

"Two weeks ago the yacht Wanderer, when somewhere S.W. from theGreenland coast, collided in a dense fog with an iceberg. Her bow wasstove in and she began to sink at once. The boats were immediatelylowered and my wife and myself with our little nephew, Robert Winslow,and a sailor named Magee, succeeded in getting away in one of them,while the remainder of our party and crew were divided among three otherboats. But in the dense fog we somehow became separated from them.

"Magee as he entered the boat seized my shotgun and a pouch of loadedshells, the only things within reach, and we saved nothing else.Fortunately the boats had been used on shore expeditions and ours wasprovisioned with a bag of sea biscuits and a quantity of water, andcontained some blankets.

"On the day following the wreck my wife was taken ill, developing, Ibelieve, pneumonia. On the fifth day she died. I would have kept herremains with us in the boat, but Magee insisted that she be buried atsea, claiming that the presence of her body would have a constantlydepressing effect upon us. I offered a prayer and said an improvisedburial service over her, we wrapped her in a blanket, and weighting herbody with an anchor buried her. My heart went into the sea with her, andbut for my young son at home and my little nephew, I would have wishedto follow her.

"Yesterday Magee went mad. He began to talk wildly, and to brandish theloaded gun. I feared he would do injury with it, and endeavored to takeit from him. In some manner it was discharged, and I was injured, I amwell aware, fatally. I lost consciousness, and when I awoke today Mageewas gone. In his frenzy he must have plunged overboard.

"My strength is nearly gone, and it is hard to hold a pencil. Should ourboat by chance be discovered, let the finder communicate with Mr. HenryWinslow, Carrington, Massachusetts, and care for the little boy, who ishis son. I commend the child to God's care, and as I die I pray God thatmy son Edward may grow to noble and Christian manhood—that he maypossess as true and noble and Christian a character as my long-lostbrother for whom he was named, the brother who sacrificed so much for meand him, and whom I wronged so deeply. God has forgiven me and I die inpeace.

"Robert Norman."

It was difficult to read the final lines, for the pencil had waveredsadly, and it was evident that the entry had been finished with intenseeffort.

When Mr. Winslow at last laid aside the yellow old notebook there wereno dry eyes, and for a little while all were silent. Then Edward tookSkipper Ed's hand in a strong grasp.

"With God's help," said he, "I will live as my father wished, and alwaysendeavor to be worthy his ideal."

But our story must end. I might relate how Bobby and Jimmy went tocollege, for Skipper Ed would not part from his partner. How the threealways spent their summers with Abel Zachariah and Mrs. Abel, andprovided for their comfort until in the fullness of years they went totheir final rest; and how Edward erected a stone on Itigailit Island tohis father's memory. But already our story has grown too long.

We may be sure in the busy years that followed, Bobby and Jimmy neverforgot the cabins at Abel's Bay, nor the cozy hours in the easy chairsbefore the big box stove. Nor Skipper Ed's teaching: "Destiny is God'swill."

THE END

[Footnote A: "Oksunae" is theEskimo greeting when one is addressed, and, literally translated, means "You bestrong." "Oksutingai" is addressed to two—"You two bestrong." "Okiusee" to more than two—"You all bestrong.]

[Footnote B: A few years ago Job Edmunds, anative acquaintance of the author, was saved from a pack of wolves in just this manner byhis dogs.]

[Footnote C: Not many years ago a pack of upwardsof thirty of these great northern wolves appeared a few miles to the southward of this point. Oneof my friends was driven to the shelter of his cabin to escape]them.—Author.

[Footnote D: An Eskimo garment of seal skin, whichis drawn on over the head like a shirt, and has a hood to protect the head. When thisgarment is made of caribou skin it is called a kulutuk, and when made of cloth, anadikey.]

[Footnote E: Freezing.]

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Bobby of the Labrador (2024)

FAQs

What do labradors love the most? ›

Labradors thrive in company and adore extra attention and playing games with their owners. If you're going to be away from your pet for a few hours, make sure to leave them stimulating dog toys and arrange for someone to check in with them.

What is the lure of the Labrador wild about? ›

Book overview. Attracted by Labrador's unexplored vastness, two American adventurers embark on an ill-planned attempt to traverse Labrador by canoe. Having ingnored the advice of the local guide, the leader of the expedition finds himself on the wrong route with a harsh winter just ahead.

What do Labradors like to sleep on? ›

Thick cotton fabric is comfy to lie on, and can handle the rough and tumble of daily life and machine washing. Corduroy is notoriously comfy plus the chunky ridges make it an easy fabric to brush or hoover clean, even when it comes to slobber and mud.

Where do Labradors like to be petted? ›

Begin to gently pet the dog in areas like the front of the chest, the upper and middle back, sides of the chest, and behind the ears. Stop petting the dog if you notice resistance. Watch their body language for signs of fear or aggression.

What is the moral of the story where the wild things are? ›

It also shows young readers that even if they sometimes want to be wild things, a home with loving discipline is the best place to be. In addition, Max's adventures demonstrate that children's imaginations are a wonderful thing, taking them anywhere they want to go.

What is Dogman Brawl of the Wild about? ›

The heroic hound is sent to the pound for a crime he didn't commit! While his pals work to prove his innocence, Dog Man struggles to find his place among dogs and people. Being a part of both worlds, will he ever fully fit in with one?

What is the mystery of the hidden lab about? ›

The thought troubles her, as she contemplates the sudden upheaval of events. And then, she receives a call. A call, that is not only going to land her into the most secret, the most bizarre science facility located near the mystified borders of Area 51, but also going to turn her world up side down.

What makes Labradors happy? ›

Labs are very active dogs, especially in the first few years of their lives. They will have a lot of energy to spare every day, so a few long walks will become part of your daily routine. This will not only help exercise your pup, but also keep him happy. Make sure you spend at least 20-30 minutes walking your lab.

What is a Labradors favourite thing to do? ›

The Labrador retriever was bred for (you guessed it) retrieving. Also known as a retriever gun dog, this class of dog was trained and selected to work tirelessly, finding and returning game to hunters. So when your Lab wants to play fetch all day, remember that they're just doing their job.

What do labs enjoy? ›

These natural retrievers love to chase after toys and bring them back – in the yard or the water! Balls, rope toys, ring toys, Frisbees, and dummies will all work well for a game of fetch.

How do you mentally stimulate a Labrador? ›

Playing with dog toys

Toys are one of the easiest ways to mentally stimulate your dog, and a simple chew will give them hours of enjoyment. Chewy toys have the added bonus of being really good for their teeth. Rotate the toys to keep play interesting. (NB: this is only possible if your dog doesn't rip up their toys.

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