'iu

^^>,

IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)

^t ^'

1.0

I.I

■- IIIM

t 1^

II—

[12.0

1-25 1.4 III 1.6

►

% >^^

9 %\:-

Photographic

Sciences

Corporation

23 WEST MAIN ^TRFET

WEBSTER, N.Y. 14S80

(716) 872-4503

'V '^^

t/i

CIHM/ICMH

Microfiche

Series.

CIHM/ICMH
Collection de
microfiches.

Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions / Institut Canadian de microreproductions historiques

Technical and Bibliographic Notas/Notas tachniquas at bibliographiquas

The Instituta has attamptad to obtain tha bast
original copy available for filming. Featuras of this
copy which may ba bibliographically unique,
whicn may altar any of the images in the
reproduction, or which may significantly change
:h9 usual method of filming, are checked below.

Coloured covers/
Couverture de crtuieur

[~~] Covers damaged/

Couverture endommag^e

Covers restored and/or laminated/
Couverture restaur^ et/ou pellicuiie

r~~| Cover title missing/

La titre de couverture manque

Coloured maps/

Cartes gio ^raphiquas en couleur

□ Coloured ink (i.e. other than blue or black)/
Encre de couleur (i.e. autre que bleue ou noire)

□ Coloured plates and/or illustrations/
Planches et/ou illustrations an couleur

□ Boun<
Reii«

Bound with other material/
a vac d'autres documents

Tight binding may cause shadows or distortion
along interior margin/

Lareiiure serr^e peut causer de I'ombre ou de la
distorsion le long de la marge intdrieure

Blank leaves added during restoration may
appear within the text. Whenever possible, these
have been omitted from filming/
II se peut que certaines pages blanches ajouties
lors dune restauration apparaissent dans le texte,
mais, lorsque cela Atait possible, ces pages n'ont
pas AtA filmias.

Additional comments:/
Commentaires supplimentaires;

T^
to

L'Institut a microfilm^ la meilleur exemplaire
qu'il lui a et^ possible de se procurer. Les details
de cet exemplaire qui sont peut-^tre uniques du
point de vue bibliographique, qui peuvent modifier
une image reproduite, ou qui peuvent exiger une
modification dans la mithode normale de filmage
sont indiqu^s ci-dessous.

□ Coloured pages/
Pages de couleur

□ Pages damaged/
Pages endommagdas

I I Pages restored and/or laminated/

Pages restaurdes et/ou pelliculies

Pages discoloured, stained or foxet
Pages dicoior^es, tacheties ou piquees

Pages detached/
Pages ditachees

Showthrough/
Transparence

Quality of prir

Quality inigala de I'impression

Includes supplementary materii
Comprend du material supplementaire

Only edition available/
Seule Edition disponible

r~7 Pages discoloured, stained or foxed/

I I Pages detached/

r~~3 Showthrough/

r~1 Quality of print varies/

□ Includes supplementary material/
C

r~| Only edition available/

Pages wholly or partially obscured by errata
slips, tissues, etc.. have baen refilmed to
ensure the best possible image/
Les pages totalement ou partieilement
obscurcies par un feuillet d'errata, une pelure,
etc., cnt ix6 fiimies d nouveau de facon a
obtenir la meilleure image possible.

PC
of
fit

Oi
be
th
si(
ot
fii
sii
or

T»
sli
Tl
w

M
di
er
be

rlj
re
m

This item is filmed at the reduction ratio checked below/

Ce document est filmi au taux de reduction indiquA ci-dessous.

10X 14X 18X 22X

26X

30X

12X

16X

aox

24X

28X

32X

The copy filmed here has been reproduced thanks
to the generosity of:

National Library of Canada

f .'exemplaire film6 fut reproduit grdce i la
g6n6rofcit6 de:

Bibliothdque nationale du Canada

The images appearing here are the best quality
possible considering the condition and legibility
of the original copy and in keeping with the
filming contract specifications.

Les images suivantes ont 6t6 reproduites avec le
plus grand soin, compte tenu de la condition et
de la nettet6 de I'exempiaire filmd, et en
conformity avec les conditions du contrat de
filmage.

Original copies in printed paper covers are filmed
beginning with the front cover and ending on
the last page with a printed or illustrated impres-
sion, or the back cover when appropriate. All
other original copies are filmed beginning on the
first page with a printed or illustrated impres-
sion, and ending on the last page with a printed
or illustrated impression.

Les exemplaires originaux dont la couverture en
papier est imprim6e sont filmfo en commenpant
par le premier plat et en terminant soit par la
dernidre page qui comporte une empreinte
d'impression ou d'illustration, soit par le second
plat, selon le cas. Tous les autres exemplaires
originaux sont film6s en commen^ant par la
premidre page qui comporte une empreinte
d'impression ou d'illustratior et en terminant par
la dernidre page qui comporte une telle
empreinte.

The last recorded frame on each microfiche
shall contain the symbol — ^ (meaning "CON-
TINUED"), or the symbol V (meaning "END"),
whichever applies.

Un des symboles suivants apparaftra sur la
dernidre image de cheque microfiche, salon le
cas: le symbols ^»> signifie "A SUIVRE", le
symbols ▼ signifib FIN".

Maps, plates, charts, etc., may be filmed at
different reduction ratios. Those too large to be
entirely included in one exposure are filmed
beginning In the upper left hand corner, left to
right and top to bottom, as many frames as
required. The following diagrams illustrate the
method:

Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc.. peuvent dtre
film^s d des taux de reduction diff6rents.
Lorsque le document est trop grand pour dtre
reproduit en un seul clichd, 11 est film6 A partir
de I'angle sup6rieur gauche, de gauche d droite,
et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre
d'images n6cessaire. Les diagrammes suivants
illustrent la mithode.

1 1

1 4

' I

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR

* fl

^'1

i I

W^!^« .-THW

T^m^^!SSS

■ GluCS" > <)<-'u
FROM IT WAS EVOKED A MONSTROUS SHAPE. — Putje 194.

'f^ MMM. m . msasc)

NDER THE
¥ GREAT

I11¥BE AR

KIRK MUNROE

AUTHOR OF " THE FLAMHTGO FEATHER,"
"DORTMATES," "THE WHITE COHQUERORS," ETC.

ILLUSTRATED BY
HOWARD GILES

TORONTO

LANGTON & HALL

1900

wT^^mwmmf*

■^■^— i^F^^^

PZ7
Un

til

«?f

COPYniOHT, 1900, BY

DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANr

"Above this far northern sea Ursa
Major sailed so directly overhead that he
seemed like to fall on us."

—From an early voyage to the eoaat of Labrador.

I" ' ■■»- "M ) liMU r

','t

«')

'• <

TABLE OF CONTENTS.

OHAPTKR

I. Graduation : But What Next ?
II. An Offer of Employment

III. The Strange Fate of a Steamer .

IV. Alone on the Life Raft .

V. Whitb Baldwin and his **Sea Bee"
VI, The jBrench ch^ah Question .
VII. Defyii a Frigate ....
VIII. A Classmate to be Avoided .
IX. Sending in a False Report
X. Cabot Acquires a Lobster Factory
XI. Bluffing the British Navy .
XII. England and France Come to Blows

XIII. A Prisoner of War .

• • • •

XIV. The "Sea Bee" under Fire

XV. Off for Labrador ....
XVI. Mosquitoes op the Far North
XVII. Imprisoned by an Iceberg
XVIII. First Encounter with the Natives
XIX. A Melancholy Situation .
XX. Coming of the Man-wolf .
XXI. A Welcome Missionary .

FAOl

8
13
21
84
48
52
61
73
83
94
101
118
124
185
144
163

•m

' 173
188
193 ^

201

.ILU ,, I,',, IK

mmfmmmmimmmmitf

^ CONTENTS.

0HAPT2R

XXII.

Good-bye to the "Sea Bek"

PASS

211

XXIII.

The Comfort of an Eskimo Lamp .

222

XXIV.

Objects of Charity

280

XXV.

Lost in a Blizzard

241

XXVI.

An ELECTPiCUN IN the Wilderness

250

XXVII.

The Man-wolf's Story ....

261

XXVIII.

Cabot is Left Alone ....

270

XXIX.

^'RIFTING WITH THE ICE PacK .

279

XXX.

The Coming of David Oidge .

288

XXXI.

Assistant Manager of the Man-wolf

Mine

300

PASS

211

-iir^

222
230
241
250
261
270
279
288

800

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

From it was evoked a monstrous shape Frontis^Z

On THE DECK OP THE STEAMER "LavINIA" . 23

He began to kick at it with the hope of smash-
ing ONE OP its panels

* • • •

At this the enraged oppicer whipped out a rk-

VOLVBR .

" Did this come prom about here ? "

• • • «^A

Others fell on the new-comers with their fists 119
Livid with rage, the Frenchman whipped out an
uoly-looking knife

A SOLITARY FIGURE STOOD ON THE CREST OF A BALD

HEADLAND

•' YiM "

• • .

"My NAME IS Watson Balfour"

He reached a point from which he could look

BEYOND THE BARRIER . „„.

"My dear BOY, YOU HAVE DONS SPLENDIDLY". . 811

65
91

129

165
217
255

a(>.'

■

•N.

V
i

/■

J ■

■
1

t 1

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR

''i»r-

.■■!T a.

._urji. ,1,,'

■I 1 illM' II "H ■■?■?■

/•<

'/.

UlfDER THE GREAT
BEAR.

CHAPTER I.

GRADUATION : BUT WHAT NEXT f j

"Heigh-ho ! I wonder what comes next? "
sighed Cabot Grant as he tumbled wearily into
bed.

The day just ended marked the close of a
most important era in his life; for on it he had
been graduated from the Technical Institute,
in which he had studied his chosen profession,
and the coveted sheepskin that entitled him to
sign M.E. in capital letters after his name had
been in his possession but a few hours.

Although Cabot came of an old New Eng-
land family, and had been given every educa-
tional advantage, he had not graduated with
honours, having, in fact, barely scraped through
his final examination. He had devoted alto-
gether too much time to athletics, and to the
congenial task of acquiring popularity, to have

qBB

4 UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

much left for study. Therefore, while it had
been pleasant to be one of the best-liked fel-
lows in the Institute, captain of its football
team, and a leading figure in the festivities of
the day just ended, now that it was all over
our lad was regretting that he had not made
a still better use of his opportunities.

A number of his classmates had already been
offered fine positions in the business world now
looming so ominously close before him. Little
pale-faced Dick Chandler, for instance, was to
start at once for South Africa, in the interests of
a wealthy corporation. Ned Burnett was to be
assistant engineer of a famous copper mine; a
world-renowned electrical company had secured
the services of Smith Redfield, and so on
through a dozen names, no one of which ^as
as well known as his, but all outranking it on
the graduate list of that day.

Cabot had often heard that the career of In-
stitute students was closely watched by indi-
viduals, firms, and corporations in need of
young men for responsible positions, and had
more than once resolved to graduate with a
rank that should attract the attention of such
persons. But there had been so much to do
besides study that had seemed more important
at the time, that he had allowed day after day
to sUp by without making the required effort,

'*yi

GRADUATION: BUT WHAT NEXTf 6

and now it appeared that no one wanted
him.

Yes, there was one person who had made
him a proposition that very day. Thorpe
Walling, the wealthiest fellow in the class,
and one of its few members who had failed to
gain a diploma, had said:

" Look here, Grant, what do you say to tak-
ing a year's trip around the world with me,
while I coach for a degree next June? There
is no such educator as travel, you know, and
we'll make a point of going to all sorts of
places where we can pick up ideas. At the
same time it'll be no end of a lark."

"I don't know," Cabot had replied doubt-
fully, though his face had lighted at the mere
idea of taking such a trip. " I'd rather do that
than Qimost anything else I know of, but "

" If you are thinking of the expense," broke
in the other.

"It isn't that," interrupted Cabot, "but it
seems somehow as though I ought to be doing
something more in the line of business. Any-
way, I can't give you an answer until I have
seen my guardian, who has sent me word to
meet him in New York day after to-morrow.
I'll let you know what he says, and if every-
thing is all right, perhaps I'll go with you."

With this the matter had rested, and during

'-IV,

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

the manifold excitements of the day our lad
had not given it another thought, until he
tumbled into bed, wondering what would hap-
pen next. Then for a long time he lay awake,
considering Thorpe's proposition, and wishing
that it had been made by any other fellow in
the class. ^

Until about the time of entering the Techni-
cal Institute, from which he was just gradu-
ated, Cabot Grant, who was an only child, had
been blessed with as happy a home as ever a
boy enjoyed. Then in a breath it was taken
from him by a railway accident, that had
caused the instant death of his mother, and
which the f; ther had only survived long
enough to provide for his son's immediate
future by making a will. By its terms his
slender fortune was placed in the hands of a
trust and investment company, who were con-
stituted the boy's guardians, and enjoined to
give their ward a liberal education along such
lines as he himself might choose.

The corporation thus empowered had been
faithful to its trust, and had carried out to the
letter the instructions of their deceased client
during the past five years. Now less than a
twelvemonth of their guardianship remained
and it was to plan for his disposal of this time
that Cabot had been summoned to New York.

GRADUATION: BUT WHAT NEXTf 7

He had never met the president of the cor-
poration, and it was with no little curiosity
concerning him that he awaited, in a sumptu-
ously appointed anteroom, his turn for an au-
dience with the busy man. At length he was
shown into a plainly furnished private office
occupied by but two persons, one somewhat
past middle age, with a shrewd, smooth-shaven
face, and the other much younger, who was
evidently a private secretary.

Of course Cabot instantly knew the former
to be President Hepburn; and also, to his sur-
prise, recognised him as one who had occupied
a prominent position on the platform of the
Institute hall when he had graduated two days
earlier.

"Yes," said Mr. Hepburn, in a crisp, busi-
ness tone, as he noted the lad^s flash of recog-
nition, " I happened to be passing through and
dropped in to see our ward graduate. I was,
of course, disappointed that you did not take
higher rank. At the same time I concluded
not to make myself known to you, for fear of
interfering with some of your plans for the
day. It also seemed to me better that we
should talk business here. I^ow, with your In-
stitute career ended, how do you propose to
spend the remainder of your minority? I ask
because, as you doubtless know, our instruc-

^t^

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

) I

tions are to consult your wishes in all matters,
and conform to them as far as possible." \

" I appreciate your kindness in that respect,"
replied Cabot, who was somewhat chilled by
this business-like reception, " and have de-
cided, if the funds remaining in your hands
are sufficient for the purpose, to spend the
coming year in foreign travel; in fact, to take
a trip around the world."

" With any definite object in view," in-
quired Mr. Hepburn, " or merely for pleas-
ure?"

" With , the definite object of studying my
chosen profession wherever! may find it prac-
tised."

"Urn! Just so. Do you propose to take
this trip alone or in '^ompany? "

" I propose to go with Thorpe Walling, one
of my classmates."

" Son of the late General Walling, and a
man who failed to graduate, is he not? "

" Yes, sir. Do you know him? "

" I knew his father, and wish you had
chosen some other companion."

" I did not choose him. He chose me, and
invited me to go with him."

" At your own expense, I suppose? "

"Certainly! I could not have considered
his proposition otherwise." >

GRADUATION: BUT WHAT NEXTf 9

" Of course not," agreed Mr. Hepburn,
" seeing that you have funds quite sufficient
for such a venture, if used with economy. And
you have decided that you would rather spend
the ensuing year in foreign travel with Thorpe
Walling than do anything else? "

" I think I have, sir."

" Very well, my boy. While I cannot say
that I consider your decision the best that could
be made, I have no valid objections to offer,
and am bound to grant as far as possible your
reasonable desires. So you have my consent
to this scheme, if not my whole approval.
When do you plan to start? "

" Thorpe wishes to go at once."

" Then, if you will call here to-morrow morn-
ing at about this hour, I will have arranged
for your letter of credit, and anything else
that may suggest itself for making your trip a
pleasant one."

" Thank you, sir," said Cabot, who, believ-
ing the interview to be ended, turned to leave
the room.

" By the way," continued Mr. Hepburn,
" there is another thing I wish to mention.
Can you recommend one of your recent class-
mates for an important mission, to be under-
taken at once to an out-of-the-way part of the
world? He must be a young man of good

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

morals, able to keep his business affairs to him-
self, not afraid of hard work, and willing as
well as physically able to endure hardships.
His intelligence and mental fitness Avill, of
course, be guaranteed by the Institute's di-
ploma. Our company is in immediate need of
such a person, and will engage him at a good
salary for a year, with certain prospects of ad-
vancement, if he gives satisfaction. Think it
over and let me know in the morning if you
have hit upon one whom you believe would
meet those requirements. In the meantime
please do not mention the subject to any one."

Charged with this commission, and relieved
that the dreaded interview was ended, Cabot
hastened uptown to a small secret society club
of which he was a non-resident member. There
he wrote a note to Thorpe Walling, accepting
his invitation, and expressing a readiness to set
forth at once on their proposed jouney. This
done, he joined a group of fellows who were
discussing summer plans in the reading-room.

" What are you going in for. Grant? " asked
one. " Is your summer to be devoted to work
or play? "

"Both," laughed Cabot. "Thorpe Wall-
ing and I are to take an educational trip around
the world, during which we hope to have great
fun and accomplish much work."

GRADUATION: BUT WHAT NEXT) 11

"Ho, ho! " jeered he who had put the ques-
tion. " That's a good one. The idea of coup-
ling ' Torpid ' Walling's name with anything
that savors of work. You'll have a good time
fast enough. But I'll wager anything you
like, that in his company you will circumnavi-
gate the globe without having done any work
harder than spending money. No, no, my
dear boy, * Torpid ' is not the chap to encour-
age either mental or physical effort in his asso-
ciates. Better hunt sohaO other companion, or
even go by your lonely, if you really want to
accomplish anything."

These w^ords recurred to our lad many times
during the day, and when he finally fell asleep
that night, after fruitlessly wondering who of
his many friends he should recommend to Presi-
dent Hepburn, they were still ringing in his
ears.

i (

'tt

' t

III

CHAPTEK II.

AN OFFER OF EMPLOYMENT.

Thorpe Walling had never been one of
Cabot Grant's particular friends, nor did the lat-
ter now regard with unmixed pleasure the idea
of a year's intimate association with him. He
had accepted the latter's invitation because noth-
ing else seemed likely to offer, and he could not
bear to have the other fellows, especially those
whose class standing had secured them positions,
imagine that he was not also in demand. Be-
sides, the thought of a trip around the world
was certainly very enticing; any opposition
to the plan would have rendered him the
more desirous of carrying it out. But in his
interview with his guardian he had gained
his point so easily that the concession imme-
diately lost half its value. Even as he wrote
his note to Thorpe he wondered if he really
wanted to go with him, and after that conver-
sation in the club reading-room he was almost
certain that he did not. If Mr. Hepburn had
only offered him employment, how gladly he

' ! I

AN OFFER OF EMPLOYMENT. 13

would have accepted it and declined Thorpe's
invitation; but his guardian had merely asked
him to recommend some one else.
^ "Which shows," thought Cabot bitterly,
" what he thinks of me, and of my fitness for
any position of importance. He is right, too,
for if ever a fellow threw away opportunities,
I have done so during the past four years.
And now I am deliberately going to spend an-
other, squandering my last dollar, in company
with a chap who will have no further use for
me when it is gone. It really begins to look
as though I were about the biggest fool of my
acquaintance."

It was in this frame of mind that our young
engineer made a second visit to his guardian's
office on the following morning. There he
was received by Mr. Hepburn with the same
business-like abruptness that had marked their
interview of the day before.

"Good-morning, Cabot," he said. «I see
you are promptly on hand, and, I suppose,
anxious to be off. Weil, I don't blame you,
for a pleasure trip around the world isn't offered
to every young fellow, and I wish I were in a
position to take such a one myself. I have
had prepared a letter of credit for the balance
of your property remaining in our hands, and
while it probably is not as large a sum as your

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

iir.

li'

III!

friend Walling will carry, it is enough to see
you through very comfortably, if you exercise
a reasonable economy. I have also written
letters of introduction to our agents in several
foreign cities that may prove iiseful. Let me
hear from you occasionally, and I trust you will
have fully as good a time as you anticipate/'

" Thank you, sir," said Cabot. " You are
very kind."

" Not at all. I am only striving to carry
out your father's instructions, and do what he
paid to have done. Now, how about the
young man you were to recommend? Have
you thought of one? "

" No, sir, I haven't. You see, all the fellows
who graduated with honours found places wait-
ing for them, and as I knew you would only
want one of the best, I can't think of one
whom I can recommend for your purpose. I
am very sorry, but "

" I fear I did not make our requirements
quite clear," interrupted Mr. Hepburn, " since
I did not mean to convey the impression that
we would employ none but an honour man. It
often happens that he who ranks highest as a
student fails of success in the business world;
and under certain conditions I would employ
the man who graduated lowest in his class
rather than him who stood at its head."

AN OFFER OF EMPLOYMENT,

n, since

Cabot's face expressed his amazement at this
statement, and noting it, Mr. Hepburn smiled
as he continued:

" The mere fact that a young man has gradu-
ated from your Institute, even though it be with
low rank, insures his possession of technical
knowledge sufficient for our purpose. If, at the
same time, he is a gentleman endowed with the
faculty of making friends, as well as an athlete
willing to meet and able to overcome physical
difficulties, I would employ him in preference to
a more studious person who lacked any of these
qualifications. If you, for instance, had not al-
ready decided upon a plan for spending the en-
suing year, I should not hesitate to offer you the
position we desire to fill."

Cabot trembled with excitement. "I — Mr.
Hepburn! " he exclaimed. " Would you really
have offered it to me? "

" Certainly I would. I desired you to meet
me here for that very purpose; but when I found
you had made other arrangements that might
prove equally advantageous, I believed I was
meeting your father's wishes by helping you
carry them out."

" Is the place still open, and can I have it? "
asked Cabot eagerly.

" Not if you are going around the world; for,
although the duties of the position will include a

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR,

certain amount of travel, it will not be in that
direction."

" But I don't want to go around the world,
and would rather take the position you have to
offer than do anything else I know of," declared
Cabot.

"Without knowing its requirements, what
hardships it may present, nor in what direction
it may lead you? " inquired the other.

" Yes, sir. So long as you offer it I would
accept it without question, even though it should
be a commission to discover the North Pole."

" My dear boy," said Mr. Hepburn, in an en-
tirely different tone from that he had hitherto
used, " I trust I may never forfeit nor abuse
the confidence implied by these words. Al-
though you did not know it^ I have carefully
watched every step of your career during the
past five years, and while you have done some
things, as well as developed some traits, that are
to be regretted, I am satisfied that you are at least
worthy of a trial in the position we desire to fill.
So, if you are willing to relinquish your proposed
trip around the world, and enter the employ of
this company instead, you may consider your-
self engaged for the term of one year from this
date. During that time all your legitimate ex-
penses will be met, but no salary will be paid
you until the expiration of the year, when its

f 1

AN OFFER OF EMPLOYMENT.

in that

world,
have to
eclared

1, what
irection

would

should

le."

an en-

itherto

abuse
3. Al-
refully
ig the

some
lat are
it least
to fill.
)posed
loy of

your-
n this
te ex-
) paid
3n its

amount will be determined by the value of the
services you have rendered. Is that satisfac-
tory? "

" It is, sir," replied Cabot, " and with your
permission I will at once telegraph Thorpe Wall-
ing that I cannot go with him."

" Write your despatch here and I will have it
sent out. At the same time, do not mention
that you have entered the employ of this com-
pany, as there are reasons why, for the present
at least, that should remain a secret."

When Cabot's telegram was ready, Mr. Hep-
burn, who had been glancing through a number
of letters that awaited his signature, handed it
to his secretary, to whom he also gave some in-
structions that Cabot did not catch. As the for-
mer left the room, the president turned to our
young engineer and said:

" As perhaps you are aware, Cabot, there is
at present an unprecedented demand all over
the world for both iron and copper, and our com-
pany is largely interested in the production of
these metals. As existing sources of supply are
inadequate it is of importance that new ones
should be discovered, and if they can be found
on the Atlantic seaboard, so much the better. In
looking about for new fields that may be profit-
ably worked, our attention has been directed to
the island of Newfoundland and the coast of Lab-
8

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

% : III' !

rador. While the former has been partially ex-
plored, we desire more definite information as
to its available ore beds. There is a small island
in Conception Bay, not far from St. Johns,
known as Bell Island, said tr be a mass of iron
ore, that is already being worked by a local com-
pany. From it I should like to have a report,
as soon as you reach St. Johns, concerning the
nature of the ore, the extent of the deposit, the
cost of mining it, the present output, the facili-
ties for shipment, and so forth. At the same
time I want you to obtain this information with-
out divulging the nature of your business, or al-
lowing your name to become in any way con-
nected with this company.

" Having finished with Bell Island, you will
visit such other portions of Newfoundland as are
readily accessible from the coast, and seem to
promise good results, always keeping to yourself
the true nature of your business. Finally, you
will proceed to Labrador, where you will make
such explorations as are possible. You will re-
port any discoveries in person, when you return
to New York, as I do not care to have them en-
trusted to the mails. Above all, do not fail to
bring back specimens of whatever you may find
'n the way of minerals. Are these instructions
iiiffieiently clear? "

a fvi

They seem so, sir."

AN OFFER OF EMPLOYMENT,

" Very well, then. I wish you to start this
very day, as I find that a steamer, on which your
passage is already engaged, sails from a Brook-
lyn pier for St. Johns this afternoon. This let-
ter of credit, which only awaits your signature
before a notary, will, if deposited with the bank
of Nova Scotia in St. Johns, more than defray
your year's expenses, and whatever you can save
from it will be added to your salary. Therefore,
it will pay you to practise economy, though you
must not hesitate to incur legitimate expenses
or to spend money when by so doing you can fur-
ther the objects of your journey. You have
enough money for your immediate needs, have
you not? "

" Yes, sir. I have about fifty dollars."

" That will be ample, since your ticket to St.
Johns is already paid for. Here it is."

Thus saying, Mr. Hepburn handed over an
envelope containing the steamship ticket that his
secretary had been sent out to obtain.

" I would take as little baggage as possible,"
he continued, " for you can purchase everything
necessary in St. Johns, and will discover what
you need after you get there. Now, good-bye,
my boy. God bless you and bring you back in
safety. Remember that the coming year will
probably prove the most important of your life,
and that your future now depends entirely upon

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

ill

\[.i

yourself. Mr. Black here will go with you to
the banker's, where you can sign your letter of
credit."

So our young engineer was launched on the
sea of business life. Two hours later he had
packed a dress-suit case and sent his trunk down
to the company's building for storage. On his
way to the steamer he stopped at his club for a
bite of lunch, and as he was leaving the building
he encountered the friend with whom he had
discussed his plans the day before.

"Hello! " exclaimed that individual, "where
are you goitig in such a hurry. Not starting off
on your year of travel, are you? "

" Yes," laughed Cabot. " I am to sail within
an hour. Good-bye! "

With this he ran down the steps and jumped
into a waiting cab.

CHAPTER III.

THE STRANGE FATE OF A STEAMER.

So exciting had been the day, and so fully had
its every minute been occupied, that not until
Cabot stood on the deck of the steamer "La-
vinia,'' curiously watching the bustling prepara-
tions for her departure, did he have time to
realise the wonderful change in his prospects
that had taken place within a few hours. That
morning his life had seemed wholly aimless, and
he had been filled with envy of those among his
recent classmates whose services were in de-
mand. !N^ow he would not change places with
any one of them; for was not he, too, entrusted
with an important mission that held promise of
a brilliant future in case he should carry it to a
successful conclusion?

"And I will," he mentally resolved. "No
matter what happens, if I live I will succeed."

In spite of this brave resolve our lad could not
help feeling rather forlorn as he watched those
about him, all of whom seemed to have friends
to see them off; while he alone stood friendless
and unnoticed. r >

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

Especially was his attention attracted to a
nearby group of girls gathered about one who
was evidently a bride. They were full of gay
chatter, and he overheard one of them say:

" If you come within sight of an iceberg,
Nelly, make him go close to it so you can get
a good photograph. I should like awfully to
have one."

"So should I," cried another. "But, oh I
wouldn't it be lovely if we could only have a
picture of this group, standing just as we are
aboard the ship. It would make a splendid be-
ginning for your camera."

The bride, who, as Cabot saw, carried a small
brand-new camera similar to one he had recently
procured for his own use, promptly expressed her
willingness to employ it as suggested, but was
greeted by a storm of protests from her com-
panions.

" No, indeed I You must be in it of course I "
they cried.

Then it further transpired that all wished to
be " in it," and no one wanted to act the part of
photographer. At this juncture Cabot stepped
forward, and lifting his cap, said :

" I am somewhat of a photographer, and with
your permission it would afford me great pleasure
to take a picture of so charming a group."

For a moment the girls looked at the pre-

ON THE UKCK OF THE STEAMER " LAVIXIA.

/ I

« »

ill ;

III

ii f

i lit I

THE STRANGE FATE OF A STEAMER. 20

sumptuous young stranger in silence. Then the
bride, flushing prettily, stepped forward and
handed him her camera, saying as she did so :

" Thank you, sir, ever so much for your kind
offer, which we are glad to accept."

So Cabot arranged the group amid much laugh-
ter, and by the time two plates had been exposed,
had made rapid progress towards getting ac-
quainted with its several members.

The episode was barely ended before all who
were to remain behind were ordered ashore, and,
a few minutes later, as the ship began to move
slowly from her dock, our traveller found him-
self waving his handkerchief and shouting good-
byes as vigorously as though all on the wharf
were assembled for the express purpose of bid-
ding him farewell.

By the time the " Lavinia " was in the stream
and headed up the East Kiver, with her long
voyage fairly begun, Cabot had learned that his
new acquaintance was a bride of but a few hours,
having been married that morning to the captain
of that very steamer. She had hardly made this
confession when her husband, temporarily re-
lieved of his responsibilities by a pilot, came in
search of her and was duly presented to our hero.
His name was Phinney, and he so took to Cabot
that from that moment the latter no longer found
himself lonely or at a loss for occupation.

: iii
1

!ii! :

it UNDER THE OBEAT BEAR. >

As he had never before been at sea, the voyage
pi wed full of interest, and his intelligent ques-
tions received equally intelligent answers from
Captain Phinney, who was a well-informed
young man but a few years older than Cabot,
and an enthusiast in his calling.

Up Long Island Sound went the " Lavinia,"
and it was late that night before our lad turned
in, so interested was he in watching the many
lights that were pointed out by his new acquaint-
ance. The next morning found the ship thread-
ing her way amid the shoals of Nantucket Sound,
after which came the open sea ; and for the first
time in his life Cabot lost sight of land. Hali-
fax was reached on the following day, and
here the steamer remained twenty-four hours
discharging freight.

The capital of iJ^ova Scotia marks the half-way
point between New York and St. Johns, New-
foundland, which name Cabot was already learn-
ing to pronounce as do its inhabitants — New-
iundAand — and after leaving it the ship was
again headed for the open across the wide mouth
of the Gulf of St. Lawrence. Thus far the
weather had been fine, the sea smooth, and noth-
ing had occurred to break the pleasant monotony
of the voyage. Its chief interests lay in sighting
distant sails, the tell-tale smoke pennons of far-
away steamers, the plume-like spoutings of slug-

lie.

THE STRANGE FATE OF A STEAMER. 27

the voyage
igent ques-
3wers from
ll-informed
ban Cabot,

" Lavinia,"
lad turned

the many
V acquaint-
hip thread-
ket Sound,
or the first
nd. Hali-

day, and
Pour hours

e half-way
hns, New-
iady learn-
its — '^ew-
ship was
ide mouth
is far the
and noth-
monotony
n sighting
ns of f ar-
js of slug-

2?/

gishly moving whales, the darting of porpoises
about the ship's fore-foot, the wide circling over-
head of gulls, or the dainty skimming just above
the wave crests of Mother Carey's fluffy chickens.

"Who was Mother Carey," asked Cabot,
" and why are they her chickens? "

" I have been told that she was the Mater Cava
of devout Portuguese sailors," replied Captain
Phinney, " and that these tiny sea-fowl are sup-
posed to be under her especial protection, since
the fiercest of gales have no power to harm
them."

"How queerly names become changed and
twisted out of their original shape," remarked
Cabot meditatively. " The idea of Mater Cara
becoming Mother Carey ! "

" That is an easy change compared with some
others I have run across," laughed the captain.
" For instance, I once put up at an English sea-
port tavern called the ' Goat and Compasses,' and
found out that its original name, given in Crom-
well's time, had been ' God Encompnsseth Us.'
Almost as curious is the present name of that
portion of the Newfoundland coast nearest us at
this minute. It is called 'Ferryla^id,' which is
a corruption of ' Verulam,' the name applied by
its original owner, Tord Baltimore, in memory
of his home estate in England. In fact, this re-
gion abounds in queerly twisted names, most of

-m

^^BS

ii iM

'11

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

which were originally French. Bai d'espoir,
for instance, has become Bay Despair Blanc
Sablon and Isle du Bois up on the Labrador coast
have been Anglicised as Nancy Belong and Boys'
Island. Cape Race, which is almost within
sight, was the Capo Razzo of its Portuguese dis-
coverer. Cape Spear was Cappo Sperenza, and
Pointe 1' Amour is now Lammer's Point."

While taking part in conversations of this kind
both Cabot and Mrs. Phinney, who were the only
passengers now left on the ship, kept a sharp
lookout for icebergs, which, as they had learned,
were apt to be met in those waters at that season.
Finally, during the afternoon of the last day they
expected to spend on shipboard, a distant white
speck dead ahead, which was at first taken for a
sail, proved to be an iceberg, and from that mo-
ment it was watched with the liveliest curiosity.
Before their rapid approach it developed lofty
pinnacles, and proved of the most dazzling white-
ness, save at the water line, where it was banded
with vivid blue. It was exquisitely chiselled and
carved into dainty forms by the gleaming rivu-
lets that ran down its steep sides and fell into the
sea as miniature cascades. So wonderfully
beautiful were the icy details as they were suc-
cessively unfolded, that the bride begged her hus-
band to take his ship just as close as possible, in
order that she might obtain a perfect photograph.

1 1

AR.

ai d'espoir,
air Blanc
brador coast
ig and Boys'
aost within
tuguese dis-
terenza, and
int."

of this kind
ere the only
ept a sharp
lad learned,
that season,
ast day they
istant white
taken for a
)m that mo-
st curiosity,
loped lofty
zling white-
was banded
hiselled and
aming rivu-
fell into the
wonderfully
y were suc-
ged herhus-
possible, in
>hotograph.

THE STRANGE FATE OF A STEAMER. 29

Anxious to gratify her every wish, Captain
Phinney readily consented, and the ship's course
was slightly altered, so as to pass within one
hundred feet of the glistening monster, which
was now sharply outlined against a dark bank of
fog rolling heavily in from the eastward.

Both cameras had been kept busy from the
time the berg came within range of their finders,
but just as the best point of view was reached,
and when they were so near that the chill of
the ie3 vf^:- . Istinctly felt, Cabot discovered that
he had exLausted his roll of films. Uttering an
exclamation of disgust, he ran aft and down to his
stateroom, that opened from the lower saloon, to
secure another cartridge. As he entered the
room, he closed its door to get at his dress-suit
case that lay behind it.

Recklessly tossing the contents of the case
right and left, he i-ad just laid hands on the de-
sired object and was rieing to his feet when, with-
out warning, he wa.s Hung violently to the floor
by a shock like t!i?t of an earthquake. It was
accompanied by a d\^J^ roar and an awful soimd
of (?rashing and rending. At the same time the
ship seemed to be lifted bodily. Then she fell
back, apparently striking on her aide, and for
several minutes rolled with sickening lurches, as
though in the ' augh of a heavy sea.

In the meaijlJuie Cabot was struggling furi-

=:;s-

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

■■i'4

I m

I ,'

ously to open his stateroom door; but it had so
jammed in its casing that his utmost efforts failed
to move it. The steel deck beams overhead
were twisted like willow wands, the iron side of
the ship was ciumpled as though it were a sheet
of paper, and with every downward lurch a tor-
rent of icy water poured in about the air port,
which, though still dosed, had been wrenched
out of position. V* ' a horrid dread the
prisoner realised that \ 3ss quickly released he
must drown where he was, and, unable to open
the door, he began to kick at it with the hope of
smashing one of its panels.

With his first effort in this direction there
came another muffled roar like that of an ex-
plosion, and he felt the ship quiver as though it
were being rent in twain. At the same moment
his door flew open of its own accord, and he was
nearly suffocated by an inrush of steam. Spring-
ing forward, and blindly groping his way through
this, the bewildered lad finally reached the stairs
he had so recently descended In another min-
ute he had gained the deck, where he stood gasp-
ing for breath and vainly trying to discover what
terrible thing had happened.

Not a human being was to be seen, and the
forward part of the ship was concealed beneath
a dense cloud of steam and smoke that hung over
it like a pall. Cabot fancied he could distin-

in: BKGAN TO KICK AT IT WITH VlIE UOPE OF SMASIIIXO OXE OF

ITS PANELS.

1 M

1 1

iij

I «

1 !
1

- 1

1 1

1 i

)

THE STRANGE FATE OF A STEAMER. 33

guish shouting in that direction, and attempted
to gain the point from which it seemed to come;
but found the way barred by a yawning opening
in the deck, from which poured smoke and flame
as though it were the crater of a volcano. Then
he ran back, and at length found himself on top
of the after house, cutting with his pocket knife
at the lashings of a life raft; for he realised that
the ship was sinking so rapidly that she might
plunge to the bottom at any moment.

Five minutes later he lay prone on the buoy-
ant raft, clutching the sides of its wooden plat-
form, while it spun like a storm-driven leaf in the
vortex marking the spot where the ill-fated
" Lavinia " had sunk.
8

t>t

CHAPTER IV.

ALONE ON THE LIFE BAFT.

,■1

I I ;;

i«i

Anything less buoyant than a modem life
raft, consisting of two steel cylinders stoutly
braced and connected by a wooden platform,
would have been drawn under by the deadly
clutch of, that swirling vortex. No open boat
could have lived in it for a minute ; and even the
raft, spinning round and round with dizzy veloc-
ity, was sucked downward until it was actually
below the level of the surrounding water. But,
sturdily resisting the down-dragging force, its
wonderful buoyancy finally triumphed, and as
its rotary motion became less rapid, Cabot sat up
and gazed about him with the air of one who has
been stunned. .

He was dazed by the awfulness of the catas-
trophe that had so suddenly overwhelmed the
" Lavinia," and could form no idea of its nature.
Had there been a collision? If so, it must have
been with the iceberg, for nothing else had been
in sight when he went below. Yet it was incred-
ible that such a thing could have happened in

::H

-?f

,'• I

ALONE ON THE LIFE RAFT.

)dem life
rs stoutly
platform,
tie deadly
jpen boat
I even the
zzy veloc-
8 actually
er. But,
force, its
i, and as
3ot sat up
3 who has

the catas-
Imed the
:s nature,
lust have
had been
18 incred-
pened in

broad daylight. The afternoon had been clear
and bright; of that he was certain, though his
surroundings were now shrouded by an impene-
trable veil of fog. Through this he could see
nothing, and from it came no sound save the
moan of winds sweeping across a limitless void of
waters.

What had become of his recent companions?
Had they gone down with the ship, and was he
sole survivor of the tragedy? At this thought
the lad sprang to his feet, and shouted, calling his
friends by name, and begging them not to leave
him; but the only answer came in shape of mock-
ing echoes hurled sharply back from close at
hand. Looking in that direction, he dimly dis-
cerned a vast tline of darker substance than
the enveloping mist. From it came also a sound
of falling waters, and against it the sea was beat-
ing angrily. At the same time he was conscious
of a deadly chill in the air, and came to a sudden
comprehension that the iceberg, to ,which he
attributed all his present distress, was still close
at hand.

Its mere presence brought a new terror; for he
knew that unless the attraction of its great bulk
could be overcome, his little raft must speedily be
drawn to it and dashed helplessly against its icy
cliffs. This thought filled him with a momen-
tary despair, for there seemed no possibility of

'1 r^'

I \ h

if! \

i -i|

' •

1 :4

E !

( \

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

avoiding the impending fate. Then his eyes fell
on a pair of oars lashed, together with their metal
rowlocks, to the sides of his raft. In another
minute he had shipped these and was pulling
with all his might away from that ill-omened
neighbourhood. •

The progress of his clumsy craft was painfully
slow; but it did move, and at the end the dreaded
ice monster was beyond both sight and hearing.
The exercise of rowing had warmed Cabot as
well as temporarily diverted his mind from a con-
templation of the terrible scenes through which
he had so recently passed. Now, however, as he
rested on his oars, a full sense of his wretched
plight came back to him, and he grew sick at
heart as he realised how forlorn was his situation.
He wondered if he could survive the nigl:+ that
was rapidly closing in on him, and, if he did,
whether the morrow would find him any better
off. He had no idea of the direction in which
wind and current were drifting him, whether
further out to sea or towards the land. He was
again shivering with cold, he was hungry and
thirsty, and so illed with terror at the black
waters leaping to .yards him from all sides that
he finally flung himself face downward on the
wet platform to escape from seeing them.

When he next lifted his head he found him
self in utter darkness, through which he fancied

« I

ALONE ON THE LIFE BAFT.

s eyes fell
tieir metal
a another
IS pulling
11-omened

painfully
e dreaded
I hearing.
Cabot as
om a cou-
gh which
ver, as he
wretched
w sick at
situation,
ligl:^ that
f he did,
ny better
in which
whether
He was
ttgry and
he black
ides that
d on the
I.

iind him
B fancied

ll«

he could still hear the sound of waters dashing
against frigid cliffs, and with an access of terror
he once more sprang to his oars. Now he rowed
with the wind, keeping it as directly astern as
possible; nor did he pause in his efforts until
compelled by exhaustion. Then he again lay
down, and this time dropped into a fitful doze.

Waking a little later with chattering teeth,
he resumed his oars for the sake of warming ex-
ercise, and again rowed as long as he was able.
So, with alternating periods of weary work and
unrefreshing rest, the slow dragging hours of
that interminable night were spent. Finally,
after he had given up all hope of ever again see-
ing a gleam of sunshine, a faint gray began to
permeate the fog that still held him in its wet
embrace, and Cabot knew that he had lived to
see the beginnings of another day.

To make sure that the almost imperceptible
light really marked the dawn, he shut his eyes
and resolutely kept them closed until he had
counted five hundred. Then he opened them,
and almost screamed with the joy of being able to
trace the outlines of his raft. Again and again
he did this until at length the black night shad-
ows had been fairly vanquished and only those
of the fog remained.

With the assarance that day had fairly come,
and that the dreaded iceberg was at least not

i i^ii

'*i

( '

;»

8 lllil

! V:

l< '

i'i '

,; I
t

II!

88 UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

close at hand, Cabot again sought forgetfulness
of his misery in sleep. When he awoke some
hours later, aching in every bone, and painfully
hungry, he was also filled with a delicious sense
of warmth; for the sun, already near its merid-
ian, was shining as brightly as though no such
things as fog or darkness had ever existed.

On standing up and looking about him, the
young castaway was relieved to note that the ice-
berg from which he had suffered so much was no
longer in sight. At the same time he was
grievously disappointed that he could discover
no sail nor other token that any human being
save himself was abroad on all that lonely sea.

He experienced a momentary exhilaration
when, on turning to the west, he discovered a
dark far-reaching line that he believed to be
land; but his spirits fell as he measured the dis-
tance separating him from it, and realised how
slight a chance he had of ever gaining the coast.
To be sure, the light breeze then blowing was in
that direction, but it might change at any mo-
ment; and even with it to aid his rowing he
doubted if his clumsy craft could make more
than a mile an hour. Thus darkness would
again overtake him ere he had covered more
than half the required distance, though he should
row steadily during the remainder of the day.
He knew that his growing weakness would de-

r I

ALONE ON THE LIFE RAFT.

itfulness
ke some
ainfully
us sense
i merid-
no such
I.

lim, the
the ice-
i was no
he was
discover
n being
sea.

laration
vered a
1 to be
the dia-
ed how
e coast.

was in
ny mo-
ing he
) more

would
[ more

should
le day.
nld de-

mand intervals of rest with ever-increasing fre-
quency until utter exhaustion should put an end
to his efforts; and then what would become of
b' ' Still there was nothing else to be done;
a.x^, with a dogged determination to die fighting,
if die he must, the poor lad sat down and resumed
his hopeless task.

A life raft is not intended to be used as a row-
boat, and is impro\nded with either seats or foot
braces. Being thus compelled to sit on the plat-
form, Cabot could get so little purchase that half
his effort was wasted, and the progress made was
barely noticeable. During his frequent pauses
foi ^est he stood up to gaze longingly at the goal
t till appeared as far away as ever, and grew
more unattainable as the day wore on. At
length the sun was well down the western sky,
across which it appeared to race as never before.
As Cabot watched it, and vaguely wished for the
power once given to Joshua, the bleakness of
despair suddenly enfolded him, and his eyes be-
came blurred with tears. He covered them with
his hands to shut out the mocking sunlight, and
sat down because he was too weak to stand any
longer. He had fought his fight very nearly to
a finish, and his strength was almost gone. He
had perhaps brought his craft five miles nearer
to the land than it was when he set out; but after
all what had been the gain? Apparently there

n ^W " i\

■

I iH

'I '

/• t

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

was none, and he would not further torture his
aching body with useless effort.

in the meantime a small schooner, bringing
with her a fair wind, was running rapidly down
the coast, not many miles from where our poor
lad so despairingly awaited the coming of night.
That he had not seen her while standing up,
was owing to the fact that her sails, instead of
being white, were tanned a dull red, that
blended perfectly with the colour of the distant
shore line. A bright-faced, resolute chap, some-
what younger than Cabot, but of equally sturdy
build, held the tiller, and regarded with evident
approval the behaviour of his speeding craft.

" We'll make it, Dave,'' he cried, cheerily.
" The old ' Sea Bee's ' got the wings of 'em this
time."

" Mebbe so," growled the individual addressed,
an elderly man who stood in the corapanionway,
with his head just above the hatch, peering for-
ward under the swelling sails. " Mebbe so," he
repeated, " and mebbe not. Steam's hard to
beat on land or water, an' we be a far cry from
Pretty Harbour yet. So fur that ef they're
started they'll overhaul us before day, and beat
us in by a good twelve hour. It's what I'm look-
ing fur."

" Oh, pshaw ! " replied the young skipper.
" What a gammy old croaker you are. They

ALONE ON THE LIFE RAFT.

won't start to-day, anyhow. But here, take her
a minute, while I go aloft for one more look be-
fore sundown to make sure."

As the man complied with this request, and
waddling aft took the tiller, his more active com-
panion sprang into the main rigging and ran
rapidly to the masthead, from which point of
vantage he gazed back for a full minute over the
course they had come.

" Xot a sign," he shouted down at length.
" But hello, " he added to himself, " what's
that? " With a glance seaward his keen eye
had detected a distant floating object that was
momentarily uplifted on the back of a long swell,
and flashed white in the rays of the setting sun.

" Luif her, David ! Hard down with your
helium, and trim in all," he shouted to the steers-
man. " There, steady, so."

" Wot's hup? " inquired the man a fewminutes
later, as the other rejoined him on deck.

" Don't know for sure ; but there's something
floating off there that looks like a bit of wreck-

■ w-

age

"An' you, with all your hurry, going to stop
fur a closer look, and lose time that'll mebbe
prove the most wallyable of your life," growled
the man disgustedly. " Wal, I'll be jiggered!"

" So would I, if I didn't," replied the lad. " It
was one of dad's rules never to pass any xJ d of

i I

nil

H !

;mi

» II

i!|

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

a wreck without at least one good look at it, and
so it's one of mine as well. There's what I'm
after, now. See, just off the starboard bow.
It's a raft, and David, there's a man on it, sure as
you live. Look, he's standing up and waving at
us. Now, he's down again! Poor fellow I In
with the jib, David! Spry now, and stand by
with a Une. I'm' going to round up, right along-
side."

I f

L-B.

: at it, and
what Vm
oard bow.
. it; sure as
waving at
Howl In
[ stand by
ght along-

CHAPTER V.

WHITE BALDWIN AND HIS " SEA BEE."

The hour that preceded the coming of that
heaven-sent schooner was the blackest of Cabot
Grant's life, and as he sat with bowed head on
the wet platform of his tossing raft he was utterly
hopeless. He believed that he should never
again hear a human voice nor tread the blessed
land — ^yes, everything was ended for him, or
very nearly so, and whatever record he had made
in life must now stand without addition or correc-
tion. His thoughts went back as far as he could
remember anything, and every act of his life was
clearly recalled. How mean some of them now
appeared; how thoughtless, indifferent, or self-
ish he had been in others. Latterly how he had
been filled with a sense of his own importance,
how he had worked and schemed for a little
popularity, and now who would regret him, or
give his memory more than a passing thought?

Thorpe Walling would say: "Served him
right for throwing me over, as he did," and others
would agree with him. Even Mr. Hepburn,

!■ 1

liii

'! ■!

i 1

1 I'

1 fi' '

■ 1 :.;

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

who had doubtless given him a chance merely
because he was his guardian, would easily find
a better man to put in his place. Some cousins
whom he had never seen nor cared to know
would rejoice on coming into possession of his
little property; and so, on the whole, his disap-
pearance would cause more of satisfaction than
regret. Most bitter of all was the thought that
he would never have the opportunity of chang-
ing, or at least of trying to change, this state of
affairs, since he had doubtless looked at the sun
for the last time, and the blackness of an endless
night was about to enfold him.

Had he really seen his last ray of sunlight and
hope? No; it could not be. There must be a
gleam left. The sun could not have set yet. He
lifted his head. There was no sun to be seen. With
a cry of terror he sprang to his feet, and, from the
slight elevation thus gained, once more beheld
the mighty orb of day, and life, and promise,
crowning with a splendour infinitely beyond any-
thing of this earth, the distant shore-line that he
had striven so stoutly to gain.

Dazzled by its radiance, Cabot saw nothing
else during the minute that it lingered above the
horizon. Then, as it disappeared, he uttered an-
other cry, but this time it was one of incredulous
and joyful amazement, for close at hand, coming
directly towards him from out the western glory.

BALDWIN AND HIS ''SEA BEE:' 45

!e merely
asily find
le cousins
to know
on of his
his disap-
ition than
ught that
of chang-
is state of
it the sun
in endless

ilight and
nust be a

yet. He
^n. With

from the
re beheld

promise,
jrond any-
le that he

nothing
above the
ttered an-
credulous
i, coming
rn glory,

was a ship bearing a new lease of life and
freighted with new opportunities.

The poor lad tried to wave his cap at the new-
comers; but after a feeble attempt sank to his
knees, overcome by weakness and gratitude. It
was in that position they found him as the little
schooner was rounded sharply into the wind, and,
with fluttering sails, lay close alongside the drift-
ing raft.

David flung a line that Cabot found strength
to catch and hold to, while the young skipper of
the " Sea Bee " sprang over her low rail and
alighted beside the castaway just as the latter
staggered to his feet with outstretched hand.
The stranger grasped it tightly in both of his, and
for a moment the two gazed into each other's eyes
without a word. Cabot tried to speak, but some-
thing choked him so that he could not; and, not-
ing this, the other said gently:

" It is all over now, and you are as safe as
though you stood on dry land; so don't try to say
anything till we've made you comfortable, for I
know you must have had an almighty hard time."

" Yes," whispered Cabot. " I've been hun-
gry, and thirsty, and wet, and cold, and scared;
but now I'm only grateful — more grateful than
I can ever tell."

A little later the life raft, its mission accom-
plished, was left to toss and drift at will, while

•
i!

>■)

1 *

1 . 1

: ill!
1

li 'ti

I II
Si !

I i

46 UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

the " Sea Bee," with everything set and drawing
finely, was rapidly regaining her course, guided
by the far-reaching flash of Cape Race light. In
her dingy little cabin, which seemed to our
rescued lad the most delightfully snug, warm,
and altogether comfortable place he had ever
entered, Cabot lay in the skipper's own bunk,
regarding with intense interest the movements
of that busy youth.

The latter had lighted a swinging lamp, started
a fire in a small and very rusty galley stove, set a
tea kettle on to boil, and a pan of cold chowder to
re-warm. Having thus got supper well under
way, he returned to the cabin, where he pro-
ceeded to set the table. The worst of Cabot's
distress had already been relieved by a cup of
cold tea and a ship's biscuit. Now, finding that
he was able to talk, his host could no longer re-
strain his curiosity, but began to ask questions.
He had already learned Cabot's name, and told
his own, which was Whiteway Baldwin, " called
White for short," he had added. N^ow he said:

" You needn't talk, if you don't feel like it, but
I do wish you could tell how you came to be drift-
ing all alone on that raft."

" A steamer that I was on was wrecked yester-
day, and so far as I know I am the only survivor,"
answered Cabot.

" Goodness! You don't say so! What steamer

liiii

BALDWIN AND HIS ''SEA BEE.'' 47

d drawing
3e, guided
light. In
)d to our
ig, warm,
had ever
fwn bunk,
lovements

np, started
tove, set a
showder to
T^ell under
•e he pro-
3f Cabot's
' a cup of
ading that
longer re-
questions.
I, and told
n, " called
w he said:
like it, but
to be drif t-

ced yester-

survivor,

at steamer

was she, where was she bound, and what part of
the coast was she wrecked on? "

" She was the ^ Lavinia ' from New York for
St. Johns, and she wasn't wrecked on any part of
the coast, but was lost at sea."

" Jiminetty! The ' Lavinia ' ! It don't seem
possible. How did it happen? There hasn't
been any gale. Did she blow up, or what ? "

" I don't know," replied Cabot, " for I was
down-stairs when it took place, and my stateroom
door was jammed so that I couldn't get out for a
long time. I only know that there was the most
awful crash I ever heard, and it seemed as though
the ship were being torn to pieces. Then there
came an explosion, and when I got on deck the
ship was sinking so fast that I had only time to
cut loose the raft before she went down."

" What became of the others? " asked White
excitedly.

" I am afraid they were drowned, for I heard
them shouting just before she sank, but there was
such a cloud of steam, smoke, and fog that I
couldn't see a thing, and after it was all over I
seemed to be the only one left."

" Wasn't there a rock or ship or anything she
might have run into? " asked the young skipper,
whose tanned face had grown pale as he listened
to this tale of sudden disaster.

" There was an iceberg," replied Cabot, " but

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

i In

i| ! P'

t'l«^ i

t m

when I went down-stairs it wasn't very close, and
the sun was shining, so that it was in plain sight."

" That must be what she struck, though," de-
clared the other. Then he thrust his head up
the companionway and shouted : " Hear the
news, Dave. The ^ Lavinia's ' lost wit^ all on
board, except the chap we've just picked up."

" "What happened her? " asked the man lacon-
ically.

" He says she ran into an iceberg in clear day,
bust up, and sank with all hands, inside of a min-
ute."

"Rot!" replied the practical sailor.' "The
* Laviny ' had collision bulkheads, and couldn't
have sunk in no sich time, ef she could at all.
'Sides Cap'n Phinney ain't no man to run down
a berg in clear day, nor yet in the night, nor no
other time. He's been on this coast and the
Labrador run too long fur any sich foolishness.
No, son, ef the ' Laviny's ' lost, which mind, I
don't say she ain't, she's lost some other way
'sides that, an' you can tell your friend so with
my Compliments."

Cabot did not overhear these remarks, and
wondered at the queer look on the young skip-
per's face when he reentered the cabin, as he did
at the silence with which the latter resumed his
preparations for supper. At the same time he
was still too weak, and, in spite of his biscuit, too

BALDWIN AND HIS " SEA BEE:' 49

close, and
in sight."
ugh," de-
head up
lear the
tb all on
d up."
lan lacon-

clear day,
of a min-

r.^ "The
I couldn't
lid at all.
run down
[it, nor no
: and the
)olishness.
1 mind, I
ither way
d so with

arks, and
ung skip-
as he did
lumed his
3 time he
iscuit, too

ravenously hungry to care for further conversa-
tion just then. So it was only after a most satis-
factory meal and several cups of very hot tea that
he was ready in his turn to ask questions. But
he was not given the chance; for, as soon as
White Baldwin was through with eating, he went
on deck to relieve the tiller, and the other mem-
ber of the crew, whose name was David Gidge,
came below.

He was a man of remarkable appearance, of
very broad shoulders and long arms; but with
legs so bowed outward as to materially lower his
stature, which would have been short at best, and
convert his gait into an absurd waddle. His face
was disfigured by a scar across one cheek that so
drew that comer of his mouth downward as to
produce a peculiarly forbidding expression. He
also wore a bristling iron-grey beard that grew
in form of a fringe or ruff, and added an air of
ferocity to his make up.

As this striking-looking individual entered the
cabin and rolled into a seat at the table, he cast
one glance, accompanied by a grunt, at Cabot,
and then proceeded to attend strictly to the busi-
ness in hand. He ate in such prodigious haste,
and gulped his food in such vast mouthfuls, that
he had cleaned the table of its last crumb, and
was fiercely stuffing black tobacco into a still
blacker pipe, before Cabot, who really wished to

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

i: l-K\

i i

■ 4

I J;

1 1

1 ; ! '

ill ;

HhUi!

Sir ^

I %

I y

talk with him, had decided how to open the con-
versation. Lighting his pipe and puffing it into
a ruddy glow, Mr. Gidge made a waddling exit
from the cabin, bestowing on our lad another
grunt as he passed him, and leaving an eddying
wake of rank tobacco smoke to mark his passage.

For some time after this episode Cabot strug-
gled to keep awake in the hope that White would
return and answer some of his questions; but
finally weariness overcame him, and he fell into
a sleep that lasted without a break until after sun-
rise of the following morning.

In the meantime the little schooner had held
her course, and swept onward past the flashing
beacons of Cape Kace, Cape Pine, and Cape St.
Mary, until, at daylight, she wap standing across
the bioad reach of Placentia Bay towards the
bald headland of Cape Chapeau Rouge. She
was making a fine run, and in spite of his weari-
ness after a six hours' watch on deck, White
Baldwin presented a cheery face to Cabot, as the
latter vainly strove to recognise and account for
his surroundings.

" Good morning," said the young skipper, " I
hope you have slept well, and are feeling all right

again

" Yes, thank you," replied Cabot, suddenly re-
membering, " I slept splendidly, and am as fit as
a fiddle. Have we made a good run? "

BALDWIN AND HIS ''SEA BEE:' 61

" Fine; we have come nearly a hundred miles
from the place where we picked you up."

" Then we must be almost to St. Johns," sug-
gested Cabot, tumbling from his bunk as he
spoke. " I am glad, for it is important that I
should get there as quickly as possible."

" St. Johns!" replied the other blankly. " Did-
n't you know that we had come from St. Johns,
and were going in the opposite direction? Why,
we are more than one hundred and fifty miles
from there at this minute."

\. :«

CHAPTER VI.

THE FBBNOH SHORE QUESTION.

1 i

If iJI

• !

,1' 1 1

If it

' \\:

i
I'

Although Cabot had had no reason to sup-
pose that the " Sea Bee " was on her way to St.
Johns, it had not for a moment occurred to him
that she could be going anywhere else. Thus
the news that they were not only a long way
from the place he wished to reach, but steadily
increasing their distance from it, so surprised
him that for a moment he sat on the edge of his
bunk gazing at the speaker as though doubting if
he had heard aright. Finally he asked; " Where,
then, are we bound? "

"To Pretty Harbour, around on the west coast,
where I live," was the answer.

" I'd be willing to give you fifty dollars to
turn around and carry me to St. Johns," said
Cabot.

" Couldn't do it if you offered me a hundred,
much as I need the money, and glad as I would
be to oblige you, for I've got to get home in a
hurry if I want to find any home to get to. You
see, it's this way," continued White, noting

THE FRENCH SHORE QUESTION. 63

Cabot's look of inquiry, " Pretty Harbour being
on the French shore—

" What do you mean by the French shore? "
interrupted Cabot. " I thought you lived in
Newfoundland, and that it was an English
island."

"So it is," explained White; "but, for some
reason or other, I don't know why, England
made a tieaty with France nearly two hundred
years ago, by which the French were granted
fishing privileges from Cape Ray along the whole
west coast to Cape Bauld, and from there down
the east coast as far as Cape St. John. By an-
other treaty made some years afterwards France
was granted, for her own exclusive use, the
islands o± JMiquelon and St. Pierre, that lie just
ahead of us now.

" In the meantime the French have been al-
lowed to do pretty much as they pleased with the
west coast, until now they claim exclusive rights
to its fisheries, and will hardly allow us natives to
catch what we want for our own use. They send
warships to enforce their demands, and these
compel us to sell bait to French fishermen at such
price as they choose to offer. Why, I have seen
men lorced to sell bait to the French at thirty
cents a barrel, when Canadian and American fish-
ing boats werr offering five times that much for
it. At the same time the French officers forbid

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

r '

■

> *i

'■}: ' '1'
ill' 'ij

us to sell to any but Frenchmen, declaring that
if we do they will not only prevent us from fish-
ing, but will destroy our rots."

^'I should think yor. would call on English
warships for protection," said Cabot. " There
surely must be some on this station."

" Yes," replied the other, bitterly, " there are,
but they always take the part of the French, and
do even more than they towards breaking up our
business."

"What?" cried Cabot. "British warships
take part with the French against their own peo-
ple! That is one of the strangest things I ever
heard of, and I canH understand it. Is not this
an English colony? "

" Yes, it is England's oldest colony; but, while
I was bom in it, and have lived here all my life,
I don't understand the situation any better than

you

" It seems to me," continued Cabot, " that the
conditions here must be fully as bad as those that
led to the American Revolution, and I should
think you Newfoundlanders would rebel, and set
up a government of your own, or join the United
States, or do something of that kind."

" Perhaps we would if we could," replied
White; "but our country is only a poor little
island, with a population of less than a quarter
of a million. If we should rebel, we would have

"111

THE FRENCH SHORE QUESTION. 65

to fight both England and France. We should
have to do it without help, too, for the United
States, which is the only country we desire to
join, does not want us. So you see there is noth-
ing for us to do but accept the situation, and get
along as best we can."

. " Why don't you emigrate to the States?" sug-
gested Cabot.

" Plenty of peopl'" T^hom I know have done
so," replied the young Newfoundlander, " and I
might, too, if it were not for my mother and
sister; but I don't know how I could make a liv-
ing for them in the States, or even for myself.
You see, everything we have in the world is tied
up right here. Besides, it would be hard to
leave one's own country and go to live among
strangers. Don't you think so? "

"How do you make a living here?" asked
Cabot, ignoring the last question.

" We have made it until now by canning lob-
sters; but it looks as though even that business
was to be stopped from this on."

" Why? Is it wrong to can lobsters? "

" On the French shore, it seems to be one of
the greatest crimes a person can commit, worse
even than smuggling, and the chief duty of Brit-
ish warships on this station is to break it up."

"Well, that beats all!" exclaimed Cabot.
"Why is canning lobsters considered so wicked?"

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

i S::

1 I ■:

1 ':

i' :

!• •'

* 1

1
t

i 1

ti I i I

"I don't know that I can explain it very
clearly," replied the young skipper of the " Sea
Bee," " but, so far as I can make out, it is this
way : You see, the west coast of Newfoundland is
one of the best places in the world for lobsters.
So when the settlers there found they were not
allowed to make a living by fishing, they turned
their attention to catching and canning them.
They thought, of course, that in this they would
not be molested, since the French right was
only to take and dry fish, which, in this coun-
try, means only codfish. They were so success-
ful at the new business that after a while the
French also began to establish lobster canneries.
As no one interfered with them they finally be-
came so bold as to order the closing of all fac-
tories except their own, and to actually destroy
the property of such English settlers as were en-
gaged in the business. Then there were riots,
and we colonists appealed to Parliament for pro-
tection in our rights."

" Of course they granted it," said Cabot, who
was greatly interested.

" Of course they did nothing of the kind," re-
sponded White, bitterly. " The English author-
ities only remonstrated gently with the French,
who by that time were claiming an exclusive
right to all the business of the west coast, and
finally it was agreed to submit the ^hole ques-

THE FRENCH SHORE QUESTION. 67

tion to arbitration. It b^a never yet been arbi-
trated, thougb that was some years ago. In the
meantime an arrangement was made by Avhich
all lobster factories in existence on July 1, 1889,
were allowed to continue their business, but no
others might be established."

" Was your factory one of those then in exist-
ence? " asked Cabot.

" It was completed, and ready to begin work a
whole month before that date; but the captain of
a French frigate told my father that if he canned
a single lobster his factory would be destroyed.
Father appealed to the commander of a British
warship for protection; but was informed that
none could be given, and that if he persisted in
the attempt to operate his factory his own coun-
trymen would be compelled to aid the French in
its destruction. On that, father went to law,
but it was not until the season was ended that the
British captain was found to have had no author-
ity for his action. So father sued him for dam-
ages, and obtained judgment for five thousand
dollars. He never got the money, though, and
by the time the next season came round the law
regarding factories in existence on the first of
the previous July was in force. Then the ques-
tion came up, whether or no our factory had
been in existence at that time. The French
claim that ItVas not, because no work had been

I-

I! I.

' i"

V, 1

' 1

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

done in it, while we claim that, but for illegal
interference, work would have been carried on'
for a full month before the fixed date/^

" How was the question settled?" asked Cabot.

" It was not settled until a few days ago, when
a final decision was rendered against us, and now
the property is liable to be destroyed at any min-
ute. Father fought the case until it worried him
to death, and mother has been fighting it ever
since. All our property, except the factory it-
self, this s(^hooner, and a few hundred acres of
worthless land, has gone to the lawyers. While
they have fought over the case, I have made a
sort of a living for the family by running the
factory at odd times, when there was no warship
at hand to prevent. This season promises to be
one of the best for lobsters ever known, and we
had so nearly exhausted our supply of cans that
I went to St. Johns for more. While there I
got private information that the suit had gone
against us, and that the commander of the war-
ship * Comattus,^ then in port, had received
orders to destroy our factory during his annual
cruise along the French shore. The ^ Com-
attus " was to start as soon as the ^ Lavinia '
arrived. The minute I heard this I set out in a
hurry for home, in the hope of having time to
pack the extra cases I have on board this
schooner, and get them out of the way before the

THE FRENCH SHORE QUESTION, 59

warship arrives. That is one reason I am in
such a hurry, acd can't spare the time to take
you to St. Johns. I wouldn't even have stopped
long enough to investigate your raft if you had
been a mile further off our course than you

were.

" Then all my yesterday's rowing didn't go for
nothing," said Cabot.

" I should say not. It was the one thing that
saved you, so far as this schooner is concerned.
Fm in a hurry for another reason, too. If the
French get word that a decision has been ren-
dered against us, and that the factory is to be
destroyed, they will pounce down on it in a jiffy,
and carry away everything worth taking, to one
of their own factories."

" I don't wonder you are in a hurry," said
Cabot. " I know I should be, in your place, and
I don't blame you one bit for not wanting to take
me back to St. Johns; but I wish you would tell
me the next best way of getting there. You see,
having lost everything in the way of an outfit it
is necessary for me to procure a new one. Be-
sides that and the business I have on hand, it
seems to me that, as the only survivor of the
' Lavinia,' I ought to report her loss as soon as
possible."

" Yes," agreed White, " of course you ought;
though the longer it is unknown the longer the

!l ■i:

|; 'I ''

I h

h i

:?! I

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

* Comattus ' will wait for her, and the more time
I shall have." ^ ^

" Provided some French ship doesn't get after
you," suggested Cabot.

" Yes, I realise that, and as I am going to stop
at St. Pierre, to see whether the frigate ^ Isla ' is
still in that harbour, I might set you ashore there.
From St. Pierre you can get a steamer for St.
Johns, and even if you have to wait a few days
you could telegraph your news as quickly as you
please."

" All right," agreed Cabot. " I shall be sorry
to leave you; but if that is the best plan you can
think of I will accept it, and shall be grateful if
you will set me ashore as soon as possible."

Thus it was settled, and a few hours later the
" Sea Bee " poked her nose around Gallantry
Head, and ran into the picturesque, foreign-
looking port of St. Pierre. The French frigate
" Isla," that had more than once made trouble
for the Baldwins, lay in the little harbour, black
and menacing. Hoping not to be recognized,
"White gave her as wide a berth as possible; but
he had hardly dropped anchor when a boat — con-
taining an officer, and manned by six sailors —
shot out from her side, and was pulled directly
towards the schooner.

CHAPTER VII.

DEFYING A FRIGATE.

" I WONDER what's up now? '^ said White Bald-
win, in a troubled tone, as he watched the ap-
proaching man-of-war's boat.

" Mischief of some kind," growled David
Gidge, as he spat fiercely into the water. "I
hain't never knowed a Frencher to be good fur
nawthin' else but mischief."

"Perhaps it's a health officer," suggested
Cabot.

" It's worse than that," replied White.

" A customs officer, then? "

" He comes from the shore."

" Then perhaps it's an invitation for us to go
and dine with the French captain? "

" I've no doubt it's an invitation of some kind,
and probably one that is meant to be accepted."

At this juncture the French boat dashed
alongside, and, without leaving his place, the
lieutenant in command said in fair English:

" Is not zat ze boat of Monsieur Baldwin of
Pretty Harbour on ze cote Frangaise? "

1 f i

, ;
i

'^i

ii i

I I

J! ;

! f ' '

if '

iv\

-."1

r •

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

" It is," replied the young skipper, curtly.

" You haf , of course, ze papaire of health, an^
ze papaire of clearance for St. Pierre? "

" No; I have no papers except a certificate of
registry."

"Ah! Is it possible? In zat case ze com-
mandant of ze frigate * Isla ' will be please to see
you on board at your earlies' convenience."

" I thought so," said White, in a low tone.
Then aloud, he replied: "All right, lieutenant.
I'll sail over there, and hunt up a good place to
anchor, just beyond your ship, and as soon as IVe
made all snug Til come aboard. Up with your
mud hook, Dave."

As Mr. Gidge began to work the windlass,
Cabot sprang to help him, and, within a minute,
the recently dropped anchor was again broken
out. Then, at a sharp order, David hoisted and
trimmed the jib, leaving Cabot to cat the anchor.
The fore and main sails had not been lowered.
Thus within two minutes* time the schooner was
again under way, and standing across the harbour
towards the big warship.

The rapidity of these movements apparently
somewhat bewildered the French officer, who,
while narrowly watching them, did not utter a
word of remonstrance. Now, as the " Sea Bee "
moved away, his boat was started in the same
direction.

DEFYING A FRIGATE.

Without paying any further attention to it,
White Baldwin luffed his little craft across the
frigate's bow, and the moment he was hidden
beyond her, bore broad away, passing close along
the opposite side of the warship, from which hun-
dreds of eyes watched his movements with lan-
guid curiosity.

The boat, in the meantime, had headed for
the stem of the frigate, with a view to gaining
her starboard gangway, somewhere near which
its officer supposed White to be already anchor-
ing. What was his amazement, therefore, as he
drew within the shadow of his ship, to see the
schooner shoot clear of its further side, and go
flying down the wind, lee rail under. For a
moment he looked to see her round to and come
to anchor. Then, springing to his feet, he yelled
for her to do so; upon which White Baldwin took
off his cap, and made a mocking bow.

At this the enraged officer whipped out a re-
volver, and began to fire wildly in the direction
of the vanishing schooner, which, for answer,
displayed a British Union Jack at her main peak.
Three minutes later the saucy craft had rounded
a projecting headland and disappeared, leaving
the outwitted officer to get aboard his ship at his
leisure, and make such report as seemed to him
best.

After the exciting incident was ended, and

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

i ', '

1 '

1 •:.

i ;

;■

;

■i

,. ,,

■

•J

■ r

■ ; 1

J n

the little " Sea Bee " had gained the safety of
open water, Cabot grasped the young skipper's
hand and shook it heartily.

" It was fine ! " he cried, " though I don't see
how you dared do it. Weren't you afraid they
would fire at us? "

" Not a bit," laughed White. " They didn't
l-ealise what we were up to until we were well
past them, and then they hadn't time to get
ready before we were out of range. I don't be-
lieve they would dare fire on the British flag,
anyway; especially as we hadn't done a thing to
them. I almost wish they had, though; for I
would be willing to lose this schooner and a good
deal besides for the sake of bringing on a war
that should drive the French from Newfound-
land."

" But what did they want of you, and what
would have happened if you had not given them
the slip?"

" I expect they wanted to hold me here until
they heard how our case had gone, so that I
couldn't get back to the factory before they had
a chance to run up there and seize it. Like as
not they would have kept us on one excuse or
another — lack of papers or something of that sort
— ^f or a week or two, and by the time they let us
go some one else would have owned the Pretty
Harbour lobster factory."

fety of
ipper's

m^t see
id they

' didn't
re well
to get
on't be-
sli flag,
ihing to
l; for I
[ a good
1 a war
vfound-

d what
)n them

e until
that I
ley had
ike as
cuse or
bat sort
Y let US
Pretty

u
(4

o
o

r i

I f

!'l:

H M'ii

1 \'<

lliili

r I

DEFYING A FRIGATE.

" Would they really have dared do such a
thing? " asked Cabot, to whom the idea of for-
eign interference in the local affairs of New-
foundland was entirely new.

" Certainly they would. The French dare do
anything they choose on this coast, and no one
interferes."

" Well," said Cabot, " it seems a very curious
situation, and one that a stranger finds hard to
understand. However, so long as the French
possess such a power for mischief, I congratu-
late you more than ever on having escaped
them. At the same time I am disappointed
at not being able to land at St. Pierre, and
should like to know where you are going to take
me next."

" I declare ! In my hurry to get out of that
trap, I forgot all about you wanting to land," ex-
claimed White, " and now there isn't a place
from which you can get to St. Johns short 6f
Port aux Basques, which is about one hundred
and fifty miles west of here."

" How may I reach St. Johns from there? "

" By the railway across the island, of which
Port aux Basques is the terminus. A steamer
from Sidney, on Cape Breton, connects with a
train there every other day."

" Very good; Port aux Basques it is," agreed
Cabot, "and I shan't be sorry after all for a

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

'4 '

if '■

It i

chance to cross the island by train and see what
its interior looks like."

So our young engineer continued his involun-
tary voyage, and devoted his time to acquiring
all sorts of information about the great northern
island, as well as to the study of navigation. In
this latter line of research he even succeeded in
producing a favorable impression upon David
Gidge, who finally admitted that it wasn't always
safe to judge a man from his appearance, and
that this young feller had more in him than
showed at first sight.

While thus creating a favorable impression
for himself, Cabot grew much interested in the
young skipper of the schooner. He was sur-
prised to find one in his position so gentlemanly
a chap, as well as so generally well informed, and
wondered where he had picked it all up.

" Are there good schools at Pretty Harbour? "
he asked, with a view to solving this problem.

" There is one, but it is only fairly good," an-
swered White.

"Did you go to it?"

" Oh. no," laughed the other. " I went to
school as well as to college in St. Johns. You
see, father was a merchant there until he bought
a great tract oi land on the west coast. Then he
gave up his business in the city and came over
here to establish a lobster factory, which at that

■;i

DEFYING A FRIGATE.

r?"

an-

il he
over
that

time promised to pay better than anything else
on the island. He left us all in St. Johns, and
it was only after hi'^ death that we came over
here to live and try to save something from the
wreck of his property. Now I don't know what
is to become of us; for, unless one is allowed to
can lobsters, there isn't much chance of makir^g
a living on the French shore. If it wasn't for
the others, I should take this schooner and try a
trading trip to Labrador, but mother has become
so much of an invalid that I hate to leave her
with only my sister."

" What is your sister's name? "

" Cola."

" That's an odd name, and one I never heard
before, but I think I like it."

" So do I," agreed White; " though I expect I
should like any name belonging to her, for she is
a dear girl. One reason I am so fond of this
schooner is because it is namod i>x her."

"How is that?"

" Why, it is the ' Sea Bee,' and these are her
initials."

It was early on the second morning after leav-
ing St. Pierre that the '' Sea Bee " drifted slowly
into the harbour of Port aux Basques, where the
yacht-like steamer " Bruce " lay beside its single
wharf. She had just completed her six-hour
run across Cabot Strait, from North Sidney,

r i

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

eighty-five miles away, and close at hand stood
the narrow-gauge train that was to carry her pas-
sengers and mails to St. Johns. It would oc-
cupy twenty-eight hours in making the run of
650 miles from coast to coast, and our lad looked
forward to the trip v/ith pleasant anticipations.

But he was again doomed to disappointment;
for while the schooner was still at some distance
from the wharf, the train was seen to be in mo-
tion. In vain did Cabot shout and wave his cap.
No attention was paid to his signals, and a min-
ute later the train had disappeared. There
would not be another for two days, and the
young engineer gazed about him with dismay.
Port aux Basques appeared to be only a railway
terminus, offering no accommodation for trav-
ellers, and presenting, with its desolate surround-
ings, a scene of cheerless inhospitality.

"That's what I call tough luck! " exclaimed
White Baldwin, sympathetically.

" Isn't it? " responded Cabot; " and what I am
to do with myself in this dreary place after you
are gone, I can't imagine."

" Seems to me you'd better stay right where
you are, and run up the coast with us to St.
George's Bay, where there is another station at
which you can take the next train."

" I should like to," replied Cabot, " if you
would allow me to pay for my passage; but I

1 m

DEFYING A FRIGATE.

don't want to impose upon your hospitality any
longer."

" Nonsense ! " exclaimed W'hite. " You are
already doing your full share of the work aboard
here, and even if you weren't of any help, I
should be only too happy to have you stay with
us until the end of the run, for the pleasure of
your company."

" That settles it," laughed Cabot. " I will go
with you as far as St. George's, and be glad of
the chance. But, while we are here, I think I
ought to send in the news about the * Lavinia.' "

As Vv hite agreed that this should be done at
once, Cabot was set ashore, and made his way to
the railway telegraph office, where he asked the
operator to whom in St. Johns he should send
the news of a wreck.

" What wreck? " asked the operator.

" Steamer ^ Lavinia.' "

" There's no need to send that to anybody, for
it's old news, and went through here last night as
a press despatch. ' Lavinia ' went too close to
an iceberg, that capsized, and struck her with
long, under- water projection. Lifted steamer
from water, broke her back, boiler exploded, and
that was the end of * Lavinia.' Mate's boat
reached St. Johns, and ' Comattus ' has gone to
look for other possible survivors."

As Cabot had nothing to add to this story, he

^fipT

, ■_

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

1 1

A ' ■

merely sent a short despatch to Mr. Hepburn,
announcing his own safety, and then returned '
to the schooner with his news.

" Good!" exclaimed White, when he heard it.
" I hope the ' Comattus ' will find those she
has gone to look for; and I'm mighty glad she
has got something to do that will keep her away
from here for a few days longer. Now, Dave,
up with the jib."

CHAPTER VIII.

A CLASSMATE TO BE AVOIDED.

Cabot had been impressed bj the rugged
scenery of the Nova Scotia shore line, but it had
been tame as compared with the stern grandeur
of that unfolded when the " Sea Bee " rounded
Cape Ray and was headed up the west coast of
J^ewfoundland. He had caught glimpses of
lofty promontories and precipitous cliffs as the
schooner skirted the southern end of the island;
but most of the time it had kept too far from
shore for him to appreciate the marvellous de-
tails. Kow, however, as they beat up against
a head wind, they occasionally ran in so close as
to be wet by drifting spray from the roaring
breakers that ceaselessly dashed against the
mighty wall, rising, grim and sheer, hundreds of
feet above them. Everywhere the rock was
stained a deep red, indicating the presence of
iron, and everywhere it had been rent or shat-
tered into a thousand fantastic forms. At short
inten^als the massive cliffs were wrenched apart
to make room for narrow fiords, of unknown

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR,

r 1

• !*l

■; 't

!'!

depth, that penetrated for miles into the land,
where they formed intricate mazes of placid
waterways. Beside them there were nestled
tiny fishing villages of whitewashed houses,
though quite as often these were perched on ap-
parently inaccessible crags, overlooking shel-
tered coves of the outer coast.

On the tossing waters fronting them, fleets of
fishing boats, with sails tanned a ruddy brown,
like those of the " Sea Bee," or blackened by coal
tar, darted with the grace and fearlessness of
gulls, or rested as easily on the heaving surface,
while the fishermen, clad in yellow oilskins, pur-
sued their arduous toil.

To cur young American the doings of these
hardy seafarers proved so interesting that he
never tired of watching them nor of asking ques-
tions concerning their perilous occupation. And
he had plenty of time in which to acquire infor-
mation, for so adverse were the winds that only
by the utmost exertion did White Baldwin suc-
ceed in getting his schooner to the St. George's
landing in time for Cabot to run to the railway
station just as the train from Port aux Basques
was coming in.

The two lads exchanged farewells with sin-
cere regrets, after White had extended a most
cordial invitation to the other to finish the cruise
with him, and visit his home at Pretty Harbour.

A CLASSMATE TO BE AVOIDED. 75

Much as Cabot wished to accept this invitation,
he had declined it for the present, on the plea
that he ought first to go to St. Johns. At the
same time he had promised to try and make the
proposed visit before leaving the island, to which
White had replied:

" Don't delay too long, then, or you may not
find us at home, for there is no knowing what
may happen when the warships get there."

Even David Gidge shook hands with the de-
parting guest, and said it was a pity he couldn't
stay with them a while longer, seeing that he
might be made into a very fair sort of a sailor
with proper training.

With one regretful backward glance, Cabot
left the little schooner on which he had come to
feel so much at home, and sprinted towards the
station, where was gathered half the population
of the village — men, women, children, and dogs.
The train was already at the platform as he made
his way through this crowd, wondering if he had
time to purchase a ticket, and he glanced at it
curiously. It was well filled, and heads were
thrust from most of the car windows on that si<ie.
Through one window Cabot saw a quartette of
men too busily engaged over a game of cards to
take note of their surroundings. As our lad's
gaze fell on these, he suddenly stood still and
stared. Then he turned, pushed out from the

i:.;

1 1!

l:;l

i|t

'it

J' I

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

crowd, and made his way back towards the land-
ing as rapidly as he had come from it a few min-
utes before.

The " Sea Bee " was under way, but had not
got beyond hail, and was put back when her crew
discovered who was signalling them so vigor-
ously, n '

"What is the matter?" inquired her young
skipper, as Cabot again clambered aboard.
" Did you miss the train after all? "

" 'No" replied Cabot. " I could have caught
it; but made up my mind at the last moment that
I might just as well go with you to Pretty Har-
bour now as to try and visit it later."

"Good!" cried White, heartily. "I am
awfully glad you did. We were feeling blue
enough without you, weren't we, Dave? "

"Blue warn't no name fer it," replied Mr.
Gidge. " It were worse than a drop in the price
of fish ; an' now I feel as if they'd riz a dollar a
kental."

"Thank you both," laughed Cabot. "I
hadn't any idea how much I should hate to leave
the old ' Bee ' until I tried to do it. You said
there was another station that I could reach from
your place, didn't you? " he added, turning to
White.

"Yes. There is one at Bay of Islands that
can be reached by a drive of a few hours from

A CLASSMATE TO BE AVOIDED. 77

Pretty Harbour; and I'll carry you over there
any time you like," replied the latter.

"That settles it, then; and I'll let St. Johns
wait a few days longer."

So the little schooner was again headed sea-
ward, and set forth at a nimble pace for her run
around Cape St. George and up the coast past
Port au Port to the exquisitely beautiful Bay of
Islands, on which Pretty Harbour is located; and,
as she bore him away, Cabot hoped he had done
the right thing.

When commissioned to undertake this journey
that was proving so full of incident, our young
engineer had been only too glad of an excuse to
break his engagement with Thorpe Walling; for,
as has been said, the latter was not a person
whom he particularly liked. Walling, on the
other hand, had boasted that the most popular
fellow in the Institute had chosen above all
things to take a trip around the world in his com-
pany, and was greatly put out by the receipt of
Cabot's telegram announcing his change of plan.
The more Thorpe reflected upon this grievance
the more angry did he become, until he finally
swore enmity against Cabot Grant, and to get
even with him if ever he had the chance.

He was provoked that his chosen companion
should have dismissed him so curtly, without any
intimation of what he proposed to do, and this he

1 !

!• I

!'.

'■<. !!

>': *'

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

determined to discover. So he went to New
York and made inquiries at the offices of the
company acting as Cabot's guardian; but could
only learn that the young man had left the city
after two private interviews with President Hep-
burn. At the club where Cabot had lunched on
the day of his departure, Thorpe's appearance
created surprise.

" Thought you had started off with Grant on a
trip around the world? " said one member in
greeting him.

" No," replied Walling; " we are not going."

" But he sailed two days ago. At least, he
said that was what he was about to do when he
bade me good-bye on his way to the steamer."

" What steamer, and where was she bound? "
asked Thorpe.

" Don't know. He only said he was about to
sail."

" I'll not be beaten that way," thought Wall-
ing, angrily; and, having plenty of mon».y to ex-
pend as best suited him, he straightway engaged
the services of a private detective. This man
was instructed to ascertain for what port a cer-
tain Cabot Grant had sailed from New York two
days earlier, and that very evening the coveted
information was in his possession.

" Sailed on the ' Lavinia ' for St. Johns, New-
foundland, has he? " muttered Thorpe. " Then

"li

A CLASSMATE TO BE AVOIDED. 79

I, too, will visit St. Johns, and discover what
he is doing. I might as well go there as any-
where else; and perhaps Grant will find out
that it would have been wiser to confide in an
old friend than to treat him as shabbily as he
has me."

Having reached this decision. Walling took a
train from New York, and, travelling by way of
Boston, Portland, and Bangor, crossed the St.
Croix River from Maine into New Brunswick at
Vanceboro. From there he went, via St. John,
N.B., and Truro, Nova Scotia, to Port Mulgrave,
where he passed over the Strait of Canso to Cape
Breton. Across that island his route lay through
the Bras d'Or country to North Sidney, at which
point he took steamer for Port aux Basques and
the Newfoundland railway that should finally
land him in St. Johns. On this journey he be-
came acquainted with several Americans, with
whom he played whist, which is what he was do-
ing when his train pulled up at the St. George's
Bay platform.

At sight of his classmate, Cabot became in-
stantly desirious of avoiding him and the em-
barrassing questions he would be certain to ask.
Although our young engineer could not imagine
why Thorpe "Walling had come to Newfound-
land, he instinctively felt that the visit had some-
thing to do with his own trip to the island. He

IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)

.'/

1.0

I.I

If 1^ 1^

■^ lU 12.2

a us

1.8

1.25 1 1.4

1.6

-< 6" -

►

-<^

Photographic

Sciences

Corporation

23 WEST MAIN STREET

WEBSTER, N.Y. 14S80

(716) 873-4503

t/.

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

i 1''

1 1

'•■■

i i

1 1'

:4'

p i ■

■

■ t
Mi

' f_ 1

' ^pi

knew that Thorpe delighted to pry into the
secrets of others; and also that he was of a vin-
dictive nature, quick to take offence, and un-
scrupulous in his enmities. Therefore, as his
instructions permitted him to visit whatever part
of Newfoundland he chose, he decided to avoid
St. Johns for the present rather than risk the re-
sults of a companionship that now seemed so
undesirable.

Somewhat earlier on that same day one of
Thorpe's travelling companions, named Gregg,
spoke to him of N^ewf oundland's mineral wealth,
and referred particularly to the Bell Island iron
mines.

" Yes," replied Walling, who had never be-
fore heard of Bell Island, " they must be im-
mensely valuable."

" Oh, I don't know," said the other, carelessly.
" Several American companies are trying to get
control of them; but perhaps they are not what
they are cracked up to be after all."

" Isn't a 'New York man by the name of Hep-
bum one of the interested parties? " asked
Thorpe, at a venture.

" Yes, he is," responded Mr. Gregg, turning
on him sharply. " Why, do you know him? "

" I can't sav that I know him ; but I know a
good deal about him, and have every reason to
believe that he has just sent an acquaintance of

A CLASSMATE TO BE AVOIDED. 81

tito the
f a vin-
ind im-
, as his
i^er part
avoid
; the re-
med so

one of
Gregg,
wealth,
nd iron

ver be-
be im-

elessly.
: to get
>t what

f Hep-
asked

urning
m?"
:now a
ison to
nee of

mine, a young mining engineer, up here to ex-
amine that very property."

"Is he an expert?"

"Oh, yes. He and I were classmates at a
technical institute."

" Then you also are a mining engineer? "

" I am."

" Have you come to Newfoundland to inves-
tigate mineral lands? "

" Not exactly; though I may do something in
that line if I find a good opening. At present I
am merely on a pleasure trip."

" I see, and I am glad to have made your ac-
quaintance, as I am somewhat interested in min-
eral lands myself. When we reach St. Johns I
hope you will introduce me to your friend, and
it may happen that I can return the favour by
putting you on to a good thing."

"Certainly, I will introduce you if we run
across him," replied Thorpe. " At the same time
I hope you won't mention having any knowledge
of his business, as he is trj^ing to keep it quiet."

" Like most of us who have ' deals ' on hand,"
remarked the other, with a meaning smile.
" But it is hard to hide them from clever chaps
like yourself."

At which compliment, Thorpe, who had only
been making some shrewd guesses, looked wise,
but said nothing.

I . uii p m*

■A

I, {

i'vf

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

It happened that these two were playing whist
when the train reached St. George's Bay, and
Mr. Gregg remarked to his partner:

" There's a chap staring at this crowd as if he
knew some of us."

Thorpe glanced from the window, and started
from his seat with an exclamation. At the same
moment Cabot Grant turned away and hurried
from the station.

" Do you know him? " asked Mr. Gregg.

" He is the very person I was speaking to you
about a while ago," replied Thorpe.

■J' ^-

m '

; ■

i \

ig whist
ay, and

as if he

started
le same
Slurried

to you

CHAPTER IX.

SENDING IN A FALSE REPORT.

At sight of Cabot, Thorpe Walling's instinct
had been to leave the car and follow him; but the
thought of his luggage, which he knew he could
not get off in time, caused him to hesitate, and
then it was too late, for the train was again in
motion.

" The young man did not seem particularly
anxious to meet his old classmate," remarked Mr.
Gregg. " In fact, it rather looked as though he
wished to avoid recognition."

Thorpe pretended to be too busy with his cards
to make reply to this suggestion; but an ugly
expression came into his face, and, from that
moment, he hated Cabot Grant. When, on the
following day, he reached St. Johns and learned
of the loss of the " Lavinia," with all on board,
except those saved in the mate's boat, he was
more perplexed than ever. Cabot's name was
published as one of those who had gone down
with the ill-fated steamer, and yet he had cer-

i ,

1 , '

f' f'

V '• 1^' 4

■ \

. i.

;n.

)•■' r

i 1 i, ,

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR,

tainlj seen him alive and well only the day be-
fore. What could it mean?

" Do you suppose Hepburn knows of his
escape ? " asked Mr. Gregg, who was stopping at
the same hotel, and to whom Thorpe confided
this mystery.

" I haven't an idea."

" What do you say to wiring and finding out?
It can't do us any harm, and might gain us an in-
sight into the old man's plans up here."

" I should say it was a good idea."

As a result of this desire for infoinnation the
following telegram was sent to the president of
the Gotham Trust and Investment Company:

"St. Johns, N'f I'd.— Here all right. What shall I
do next ? C. G."

And the answer came promptly:

" Congratulations. Send B. I. report. If in need
of funds, draw. H."

"That settles it! " exclaimed Mr. Gregg, ex-
ultingly. " Hepburn is after Bell Island, and
your friend was sent here to report upon its
value. ISTow, it w^ill be a pity if the old man
doesn't get his information, which he isn't likely
to do for some time with that young chap over on
the west coast. Some one ought to send him a
report."

e day be-

's of his

opping at

confided

ding out?
us an in-

ation the
sident of
ipany :

lat shall I
C. G."

f in need
H."

:egg, ex-
md, and
upon its
old man
I't likely
• over on
d him a

SENDING IN A FALSE REPORT.

" I have a mind to do it myself," said Thorpe,
reflectively.

" It would be an awfully decent thing for you
to do. Be a good joke on your friend, too, and
make him feel ashamed of himself for cutting
you so dead yesterday, when he finds it out. He
is bound to get into trouble if some sort of a re-
port isn't sent in, now that he is known to have
escaped from the wreck."

"Confound him!" exclaimed Thorpe. "I
don't care how soon he gets into trouble; nor how
much."

" Oh, come. That isn't a nice way to speak
of an old friend and classmate," remarked Mr.
Gregg, reprovingly. " Now, I always feel sorry
when I see a decent young chap like that throw-
ing away a good chance, and want to help him if
I can. So in the present case, I think we really
ought to send in a report that will satisfy old
Hepburn, and keep the boy solid \\dth his em-
ployers. I shouldn't know how to word it my-
self, but if you, with your expert knowledge of
the subject, will make it out, of course after tak-
ing a look at the mine, I'll see that you don't lose
anything by your kindness."

" All right," replied Thorpe, who was quite
sharp enough to comprehend the other's mean-
ing. "I'll do it."

So the two conspirators drove to the pictur-

T-mrr

It,,

If:

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

esque fishing village of Portugal Cove, -where
they hired a boat to carry them across to Bell
Island. There they paid a hasty visit to the
mine, which Mr. Gregg plausibly belittled and
undervalued, until Thorpe really began to con-
sider it a greatly overestimated piece of prop-
erty, and this idea he embodied in a report that
he wrote out that very evening.

" I'm glad to see that you think as I do con-
cerning the real worthlessness of Bell Island,"
remarked Mr. Gregg, gravely, as he glanced over
the paper, " and the man who would have any-
thing to do with it after reading this must be a
greater fool than I take old Hepburn to be."

On the following day a type-written copy of
Thorpe's report was made, signed " C. G.," and
forwarded by mail to the president of the
Gotham Trust and Investment Company. As a
result, a telegram was received a week later at
the Bank of Nova Scotia in St. Johns addressed
to Cabot Grant, and desiring him to return at
once to New York. As the bank people wired
back that they had no knowledge of any such
person, Mr. Hepburn in reply requested them to
keep a sharp lookout for a young man of that
name, who would shortly present a letter of
credit to them, and provide him with a ticket to
New York on account of it, but nothing more.
Mr. Hepburn also explained that, as Cabot

SENDING IN A FALSE REPORT. 87

Grant's guardian, he had the right to thus limit
his ward's expenditures.

Thus our lad fell into disgrace with his em-
ployer, who knew, as well as any man living, the
exact status of the Bell Island iron mine, and had
only requested Cabot to report on it in order to
test his fitness for other work.

While the correspondence with the bank was
bemg carried on, Messrs. Walling and Gregg
watched for the arrival of the young engineer,
whom they expected by every train. They also
anxiously awaited the news that the Hepburn
syndicate had withdrawn its offer for the Bell
Island property, in which event it would fall, at
a greatly reduced price, to the company repre-
sented by Mr. Gregg.

Totally unconscious of all this, Cabot Grant
was at that very time in a remote comer of the
west coast, happily engaged in aiding certain of
Its inhabitants to discomfit the combined naval
forces of two of the most powerful governments
of the world. Moreover, he had become so in-
terested in this exciting occupation, as well as in
certain discoveries that he was making, as to have
very nearly lost sight of his intention to visit the
capital of the island.

When he reembarked on the « Sea Bee " at
St. George's Bay, he fully intended to catch the
tram of two days later at the station to which

■^ : m

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

White had promised to convey him. He was
glad of a chance to view some more of that mag-
nificent west coast scenery, and when the little
schooner finally rounded South Head, and was
pointed towards the massive front of Blomidon,
which David Gidge called " Blow-me-down," he
felt well repaid for his delay by the enchanting
beauty of the Bay of Islands that lay outspread
before them.

Soon after passing South Head, the " Sea
Bee," with flags flying from both masts, slipped
through a narrow passage into the land-locked
basin of Pretty Harbour. On its further shore
stood a handful of white houses, and a larger
building that fronted the water.

"That's our factory!" cried White, "and
there is our house, on the hillside, just beyond.
See, the one with the dormer windows. There's
(Jola waving from one of them now. Bless her!
She must have been watching, to sight us so
quickly. Oh, I can't wait. Dave, you take the
* Bee ' up to the wharf. Mr. Grant will help
you, I know, as well as excuse me if I go ashore
first."

" Of course, I will," replied Cabot; and in an-
other minute the young skipper was sculling
ashore in the dinghy, while the schooner drifted
more slowly in the same direction.

When they finally reached the factory wharf

SENDING IN A FALSE REPORT.

He was
bat mag-
;he little
and was
lomidon,
>wn," he
3lianting
utspread

le "Sea
, slipped
d-locked
er shore
a larger

e, " and
beyond.
There's
less her!
it us so
take the
dll help
o ashore

id in an-
sculling
• drifted

y wharf

White was on hand to meet them, and beside
him stood the slender, merry-eyed girl for whom
the schooner luid been named. She unaffect-
edly held out a hand to Cabot when they were
introduced, and at once invited him to the house
to meet her mother.

" Yes," said White, " you two go along, and
don't wait for me. You see," he added, apolo-
getically, to Cabot, "there's been a great catch of
lobsters, and if I can only get them packed be-
fore we are interfered with, we'll make a pretty
good season of it, after all."

So the new-comer walked with Cola up the
straggling village street, past a score of fisher
cottages, each with a tiny porch, pots of flowers
in the front windows, and a bit of a garden
fenced with wattles, to keep out the children,
goats, dogs, and pigs, that swarmed on all sides.
At length they came to the neatly kept and com-
fortable-looking house, overlooking the whole,
that White Baldwin called home. Here Cabot
was presented to the sweet-faced invalid mother,
who sat beside a window of the living-room, from
which she could look out on the little harbour,
and who was eager to learn the details of his
recent experiences that White had only found
time to outline to her.

Both mother and daughter listened wdth
deepest interest while Cabot told of the loss of

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

the " Lavinia," and when he had finished Mrs.
Baldwin said : \

" You certainly made a wonderful escape, and
I am grateful that my boy was granted the priv-
ilege of rescuing you from that dreadful raft. I
am confident, also, that you have been brought
to this place for some wise purpose, and trust
that you are planning to remain with us as long
as your engagements will permit."

" Thank you, madam," replied Cabot. '' I
wish I might accept your hospitality for a week,
at least. For I am certain I should find much
to enjoy in this delightful region. I feel, how-
ever, that I ought to catch to-morrow's train, as
it is rather necessary for me to reach St. Johns
without further delay."

" It seems queer," remarked Cola, " that this
stupid place can strike even a stranger as being
delightful, since there is no one to see but fisher-
folk, who can talk of nothing but fish and there
isnH a thing to do but watch the boats go and
come. Tor my part, I am so tired of it all that
I wish something would happen to send us away
from here forever."

"My dear! " said Mrs. Baldwin to Cola, re-
provingly.

" Some one seems to have found an occupation
here in collecting a cabinet of specimens," sug-
gested Cabot, indicating, as. he spoke, some

led Mrs.

ape, and
the priv-
raft. I
brought
nd trust
s as long

bot. ''I
: a week,
nd much
eel, how-
train, as
5t. Johns

that this
as being
ut fisher-
,nd there
go and
all that
us away

)o\&, re-

jupation

s," sug-

|e, some

"did this (omk from about her^?"

Si Shi

SENDim IJSr A FALSE REPORT. 93

shelves covered with bits of rock, that had at-
tracted his attention.

"Yes," admitted Cola, "I have found some
amusement in gathering those things; but I
don t know what half of them are, and there is
no one here to tell me."

"Possibly I might help you to name some of

them, said Cabot, "as I have a bowing acquaint-
ance with geology."

" Oh ! can you ? " cried the girl. « Then I wish
you would, right away, for I am almost certain
that several of them contain minerals, and I want
awfully to know if they are gold."

The next moment the two young people were
standmg before the cabinet, deep in the mys-
teries of periods, ages, formations, series, and
other profound geologic terms. All at once
Cabot paused, and, holding a bit of serpentine
m his hand, asked:

" Did this come from about here? "

"Yes; all of them did."

" Could you show me the place, or somewhere
near where you found it? "

"I think I could, if we had time; but not if
you are going away in the morning, for it would
take at least half a day. '^

" Well," said Cabot, " I believe I might wait
over long enough for that, and guess I won^t
start for St. Johns to-morrow, after all."

r >

: :^'";

I? I.J- ■

11 '

5 it

CHAPTER X.

CABOT ACQUIRES A LOBSTER FACTORY.

The Baldwins were greatly pleased at Cabot's
decision to wait over a train; for, as Mrs. Bald-
win said, a desirable guest in that out-of-the-way
corner of the world was the greatest of luxuries.
White was glad to prolong the friendship so
strangely begun, and also to escape a present
necessity for leaving his work to carry Cabot to
the distant railway station, while Cola was de-
lighted to have found what she termed a geologic
companion. After it was arranged that these
two should set forth early the following day on a
search for specimens, Cabot strolled down to the
factory to learn something of the process of can-
ning lobsters.

He was amazed at the change effected in so
short a time. When he landed at Pretty Har-
bour the factory had been closed, silent, and de-
serted. Now it was a hive of bustling activity,
in which every available person of the village,
including women and children, was hard at
work. Fires were blazing under a number of

ACQUISE8 A LOBSTER FACTORY. 95

great kettlea half filled with boiling water. In-
to these green lobsters were tossed by barrow-
tuh, to be taken out a little later smoking hot
and colom-ed a vivid scarlet. On the packing
tables their shells were broken, and the extracted
meat was put into cans, to which covers, eaA

Tl! !."Y„ f '" "'^ '^^'^^'' ^^«'« »Wered.
men the filled cans were steamed, by trayfuls
to exhaust their air; a drop of solder closed each
vent, and they were ready for labelling and pack-
ing m cases. White Baldwin, in person, super-
. mtended all these operations, while David Gidse
saw to the unloading of the " Sea Bee," and kept
sharp watch on a gang of shouting urchins, who
were mthdrawing the live lobsters from the out-
side salt-water pens, in which they had been kept
while awaiting their fate.

White was in high spirits, for the travelling
agent of a St. Johns business house had just
oifered a good cash price for his entire pack.

Of course," the young proprietor said to
Cabot, as they viewed the busy scene, " we won't
make anything like what we would if we were al-
lowed a whole uninterrupted season; but, if they
will only let us alone for a week, I'll pack a thoiv
sand cases. Those will yield enough to support
us for a year, and before that is up I'm not afraid
but that I'll find some other way of earning a
living. Now, if I can only get sufficient help.

« i|

Ei '

i \m

•J'.

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

I'm going to run this factory night and day for
the next week, unless compelled by force to stop
sooner."

Cabot was already so interested that he
promptly volunteered to aid in making the all-
important pack.

" I don't know anything about the business,"
he said, " but if you can make use of me in any
way, I shall be only too glad of a chance to repay
a small portion of the great debt I owe you."

"Nonsense!" laughed White. "You don't
owe me a thing, and I don't want you to feel that
way. At the same time I should be ever so glad
of your help in getting things well started; for
just now one strong fellow like you would be
worth a dozen of those children."

So, a few minutes later, Cabot, clad in overalls
and an old flannel shirt of White's, was as hard
at work as though the canning of lobsters was
the business of his life. Far into the night he
laboured, only pausing long enough to go up to the
house for supper; and, on the following morning,
he was actually pleased that a heavy rain storm
should postpone the trip for specimens, furnish
him with an excuse for prolonging his stay, and
leave him at liberty to resume his self-imposed
task in the factory.

The storm lasted for two days, at the end of
which time half the pack had been made, and

r I

jr for
stop

t lie
e all-

aess,'*
n any

repay

don't
el that
50 glad
id; for
uld be

veralls
hard

rs was

ght lie
to the

)rnmg,
storm
urnisli
y, and
posed

lend of
and

ACQUIRES A LOBSTER FACTORY, 97

■ ): ■

Cabot had become so familiar with all details of
the work as to be a most valuable assistant. On
the third day, the supply of lobsters on hand be-
ing exhausted, operations were suspended until
the boats could return with a new catch; and, as
the weather was again fine, Cabot and Cola set
forth on their geological exploration.

It was a glorious day, with a sky of deepest
blue; the hot sunshine tempered by a cool breeze
pouring in from the sea, and all nature sparkling
with joyous life. To Cabot, who had thought
of Newfoundland as a place of perpetual fog,
and almost constant rain, the whole scene was a
source of boundless delight. As the two young
people climbed the steep ascent behind the vil-
lage, new beauties were unfolded with each
moment, until, when they reached the crest, and
could look far out over the islanded bay, with
the placid cove and its white hamlet nestling at
their feet, Cabot declared his belief that there
was not a more exquisite view in all the world.

After gazing their fill, the explorers plunged
into a sweet-scented forest of spruce and birches,
threaded by narrow wood roads, and tramped for
miles, stopping now and then to examine some
outcropping ledge or gather a handful of snow-
white capilear berries. But the main object of
their quest, the copper-bearing serpentine, was
not found until they had gained the summit of

r <

iT I

m UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

the Blomidon range and were in full view of the
sea. Then they came to a distinct outcrop of
mineral-bearing rock that caused the eyes of the
young geologist to glisten with anticipation.

While he chipped off specimens, studied the
trend of the ledge, and made such estimates of
its character as were possible from surface indi-
cations, his companion climbed a rocky eminence
that, short of Blomidon itself, commanded the
most extended view of any in that region. She
had hardly gained the summit when she uttered
a cry that attracted Cabot's attention and caused
him to hasten in her direction. In a few mo-
ments he met her running breathlessly down the
hill. '

" What is it? " he asked. " Are.you hurt? "

" A warship coming up the coast," she panted.
" I saw it plainly, and we must get back with the
news as quick as we can."

Much as Cabot hated to give over the explora-
tion of that wonderful copper-bearing ledge, he
did not hesitate to obey the imperative call of
friendship, and accompanied Cola with all speed
back to the village. When they reached it they
found White jubilant over the extraordinary
catch of lobsters that was even then being
brought in.

"Hurrah ! " he cried, as Cabot appeared. "Big-
gest catch of the season, and you are just in time

r t

ACQUIRES A LOBSTER FACTORY.

w of the
;crop of
IS of the
on.

lied the
aates of
,ce indi-
ninence
ded the
1. She
uttered

I caused
'ew mo-
own the

lurt? "
panted,
vith the

Bxplora-

dge, he

call of

II speed
[ it they
►rdinary
I being

[. "Big-
in time

to help pack it away. But what brings you back
so early ? I thought you were off for all day."

" Oh, White, they are coming! '' gasped Cola.

" "Who are coming? "

"A warship. I saw it from Maintop."

"British or French?"

" I don't know. I only knew it was a warship
because it was so much bigger than the 'Har-
law ' and had tall masts."

" Well, it don't make any difference," growled

White, " one is just as bad as another, and our

business is ruined anyway. Why couldn't they

have kept away for three days longer? "

"What will they do?" inquired Cabot, curi-
ously.

^^ "I don't know," replied White, bitterly.
"Either destroy or seize the whole plant and
leave us to starve at our leisure. Now, I suppose
we might as well go up to the house and tell
mother. There's no use doing any more work
under the circumstances."

" I don't see why not," objected Cabot, who
was not accustomed to throwing up a fight before
it was begun. "There is a possibility that the ves-
sel may not be a warship after all, and another
that she is not coming to this place. Even if she
does, you don't know that she has any warrant
for interfering with your business. So, if I were
you, I'd go right on with the work and keep at

r I

100

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

' :• ': : hi

f 1

■ 'S!l t-'M I

,.♦■•■

■ ki

it until some one compelled me to stop. I say,
thoug'h, speaking of warrants gives me an idea.
All you want is three days' delay, isn't it? "

" That is what I want most just now," replied
White.

" Well, then, why not place this property in
the name of some friend — ^David Gidge, for in-
stance — and when those men-of-war people be-
gin to make trouble let him ask them Whose fac-
tory it is they are after. They will say yours, or
your mother's, of course. Then he'll speak up
and say in that case they've come to the wrong
place, since this is the property of Mr. David
Gidge, while their warrant only mentions that of
Mrs. Whiteway Baldwin. It'll be a big bluff, of
course, and won't work for very long, but it may
puzzle 'em a bit and give the delay of proceed-
ings that you require."

" I believe you are right about keeping on with
the work," replied White, thoughtfully; "though
I am not so sure about the other part of your
scheme. Anyway, I must run to the house for
a little talk with mother, and if you'll just set
things going in the factory I shall be much
obliged."

" All right," agreed Cabot, " I'll shake 'em

up,

And he was as good as his word, for when,
after an absence of more than an hour. White

,'• t

I say,
an idea.

replied

perty in
, for in-
sple be-
lose fac-
'^ours, or
peak up
3 wrong
. David
} that of
bluff, of
t it may
jrocoed-

on with
'though
of your
3use for
just set
e much

ike 'em

p when,
, White

ACQUIRES A LOBSTER FACTORY. 101

reappeared on the scene he found the factory
in full blast, with its operatives working as they
had never worked before, and Cabot Grant, the
most disreputable-looking of the lot, urging them
on by voice and example to still greater exer-
tions. He seemed to be everywhere and doing
everything at once.

"Hello, old man! We've got greenbacks to
bum, and we're a-burning 'em," he cried cheerily
as he paused to greet his friend, and at the same
time dash the streaming perspiration from his
face with a grimy hand. " What's the news? "
' "The news is that you are a trump!" ex-
claimed White, " and that in spite of all you are
doing for us we want you to grant us still another
favour."

" Name it, my boy, and if it is anything within
reason, including a defiance of the whole British
navy. Til do it," laughed Cabot.

" I hope you will, for it is something that we
all want you to do very much," responded White.
" You see it's this way. I spoke of your sugges-
tion to mother, and she thought so well of it that
I went to the magistrate and got him to draw up
a deed transferring this property, for a nominal
consideration, to a friend. :N'ow it is all ready
for signatures, and we want you to be that
friend."

" Me! " cried Cabot, completely staggered by

r I

i
' s,

102

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

). \ ■■

71 fJi

* !

fpl-

' * ; Iff

this unexpected result of his own planning.
'" You can't mean that. Why, you don't knowv
anything about me. For all you know I might
never give the property back to you."

" We are willing to risk that," replied White,
'* and would rather trust you to act for us in this
matter than any one else we know. It is a big
favour to ask, I know; but you said you felt in-
debted to me and only wanted a chance to pay
off the debt, so I thought perhaps — but if you
don't want to do it, of course "

" But I will, if you really want me to," cried
Cabot. " I have always longed to own a lobster
factory. It never entered my head when I pro-
posed the plan that I would help carry it out;
but if you think T can be of the slightest assist-
ance in that way, why of course I am only too
glad."

So the papers constituting Cabot Grant, Esq.,
sole owner of the Pretty Harbour lobster factory
were duly signed and recorded; and at sunset of
that very evening our hero stood regarding his
suddenly acquired property with the air of one
who is dubiously pleased at a prospect.

CHAPTER XL

BLUFFING THE BBITISH NAVY.

Cabot was not long allowed to enjoy his sense
of possession before experiencing some of the
anxieties of proprietorship; for, even as he stood
overlooking his newly acquired factory, a clipper-
built schooner, showing the fine lines and tall
topmasts of an American, rounded the outer
headland and entered the harbour. For a few
minutes our young engineer, who was learning
to appreciate the good points of a vessel, watched
her admiringly as she glided across the basin and
drew near the factory wharf. Then he was
joined by White, who had been detained at the
house, and they went down together to greet the
new-comer.

She proved to be the fishing schooner " Euth "
of Gloucester, and her skipper, who introduced
himself as Cap'n Ezekiel Bland, explained that
he had come to the coast after bait.

" I 'lowed to get it in St. George," he said,
"but there was a pesky French frigate that
wouldn't allow the natives to sell us so much as

r I

104

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR,

■I

i\v

V-\

a herring, though they had a-plenty and were
keen to make a trade for the stuff I've got
aboard."

" What kind of stuff? " asked Cabot, curiously.

" Flour and pork mostly. You see, I'm bound
on a long trip, and being obliged to lay in a big
supply of grub anyway, thought I might as well
stow a few extra barrels to trade for bait; but
now it looks like I couldnH get rid of 'em unless
I give 'em away."

" There's plenty of bait in the bay," remarked
White.

" Yes, so I've heard, and a plenty of frigates,
too. The Frenchy must have suspicioned where
I was bound, for he has followed us up sharp, and
as we came by South Head I seen him jest a
bilin' along 'bout ten mile astarn, and now he'll
poke into every hole of the bay till he finds us.
Anyhow, there won't be no chance to trade long
as he's round, for you folks don't dare say your
soul's your own when there's a FrencLy on the
coast."

"Nor hardly at any other time," remarked
White, moodily.

" There's another one, too — Britisher, I
reckon — went up the bay towards Humber Arm
ahead of us. I only wish the two tamal crit-
ters would get into a scrap and blow each other
out of the water. Then there'd be some chance

,' I

BLUFFING THE BRITISH NAVY.

106

for honest folks to make a living. Now I'm
up a stump and don't know what to do, unless
some of you people can let me have a few bar-
rels of bait right oil, so's I can clear out again
to-night."

"There isn't any to be had here," replied
White, "for this is a lobster factory, and the
whole business of the place, just at present, is
catching and carrying lobsters. You'll find some
round at York i/arbour, though."

" No use going there now, nor anywhere else,
long as that pesky Frenchman's on the lookout.
Can't think what made him leave St. Pierre in
such a hurry. Thought he was good to stay
there a week longer at any rate. But say, who
owns this factory? "

" This gentleman is the proprietor," replied
White, indicating his companion as he spoke.

"Hm!" ejaculated the Yankee skipper^ re-
garding Cabot with an air of interest. " Never
should have took you to be the owner of a New-
foundland lobster factory. Sized you up to be
a Yankee same as myself, and reckoned you was
here on a visit. Seeing as you are the boss,
though, how'd you like to trade your pack for
my cargo— lobsters for groceries? Both of us
might make a good thing out of it. Eh? I'll
take all the risks, and neither of us needn't pay
no duty."

106

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

urn

I }
I

f, I

" Can't do it," replied Cabot promptly, " be-
cause, in the first place, I'm not in the smuggling
business, and in the second our whole pack is
engaged by parties in St. Johns."

" As for the smuggling part," responded Cap-
tain Bland, " I wouldn't let that worry me a little
bit. Everybody smuggles on this coast, which
is neither British, French, nor Newfoundland.
So a man wouldn't rightly know who to pay
duties to, even if he wanted to pay 'em ever so
bad, which most of us don't. If you have en-
gaged your goods to St. Johns, though, of course
a bargain is a bargain. Same time I could afford
to pay you twice as much as any St. Johns mer-
chant. But it don't matter much one way or
another, seeing as the idea of trading was only
an idea as you may say that just popped into my
head. Well, so long. It's coming on dark, and
I must be getting aboard. See you to-morrow,
mebbe."

As the Yankee skipper took his departure,
Cabot and White turned into the factory, where
all night long fires blazed and roared beneath the
seething kettles.

Until nearly noon of the following day the
work of canning lobsters was continued without
interruption, and pushed with all possible en-
ergy. Then a boy, who had been posted outside
the harbour as a lookout, came hurrying in to

BLUFFING THE BRITISH NAVY. 107

report that he had seen a naval launch steaming
in that direction.

The emergency for which Cabot had been
planning ever since he consented to become the
responsible head of the concern was close at
hand, and he at once began to take measures to
meet it.

" Draw your fires," he shouted. " Empty the
kettles and cool them off. Pass all cans, empty
or full, up into the loft, and then every one of
you clear out. Eemember that you are not to
know a thing about the factory, if anybody asks
questions, and you don't even want to give any
one a chance to ask questions if you can help it.
Eun up to the house," he added, turning to the
boy who had brought tidings of the enemy's ap-
proach, " and tell Mrs. Baldwin, with my compli-
ments, that the carriage is ready for her drive."

So thoroughly had everything been explained
and understood beforehand, and so promptly
were these orders obeyed, that, half an hour
later, when a jaunty man-of-war's launch, flying
a British Jack, entered the little harbour, every
preparation had been made for her reception.
The factory, closed and silent, presented no out-
ward sign that it had been in operation for
months. Those who had recently worked so in-
dustriously within its weather-stained walls now
lounged about their own house doors, or on the

f \

■ (

t r.'.

'XVi.

108

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

village street, as though they had nothing to do,
and limitless leisure in which to do it. White
Baldwin, with his mother and sister, had driven
away in a cart, leaving their tenantless house
with closed doors and tightly shuttered windows.
Cabot Grant, with hands thrust into his trousers
pockets, leaned against a wharf post and surveyed
the oncoming launch with languid curiosity. The
Yankee schooner swung gracefully at her moor-
ings, and from her a boat was pulling towards
shore; while on the deck of the " Sea Bee," also
anchored in the stream, David Gidge placidly
smoked a pipe.

The launch slowed down as it neared him, and
an officer inquired in the crisp tones of author-
ity:

"What place is this?"

Deliberately taking the pipe from his mouth,
and looking about him as though to refresh his
memory, Mr. Gidge answered:

" I've heard it called by a number of names."
" Was one of them Pretty Harbour? "
" Now that you mention it, I believe it were."
" What kind of a building is that? " continued
the officer, sharply, pointing to the factory as he
spoke.

David gazed at the building with interest, as
though now seeing it for the first time.

" Looks to me like a barn," he said at length.

r I

BLUFFING THE BRITISH NAVY. 109

" Same time it might be a churcih, though I don't
reckon it is."

" Isn't it a lobster factory? "

" They might make lobsters in it, but I don't
think they does. Mebbe that young man on the
wharf could tell ye. He looks knowing."

Disgusted at this exhibition of stupidity, and
muttering something about a chuckle-headed
idiot, the officer motioned for his launch to move
ahead, and, in another minute, it lay alongside
the wfharf.

" Is this the Pretty Harbour lobster factory? "
demanded the officer as he stepped ashore.

" I believe it was formerly used as a lobster
cannery," replied Cabot, guardedly, "but no
business of the kind is being carried on here at
present."

" It is owned by the family of the late William
Baldwin, is it not?"

"No, sir."

" Who then does own the property? "

"I do."

" You! " exclaimed the officer. " And pray,
sir, who are you? "

" I am an American citizen named Grant, and
have recently acquired this property by pur-
chase."

" Indeed. Then of course you possess papers
showing the transfer of ownership."

?r-if

'• (

M: "!

h t

III

110

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

"Certainly."

" I should like to look at them." ^

" They have been sent for record to the county
seat, where any one who chooses may examine
them."

" Where shall I find a person by the name of
Whiteway Baldwir ? "

" I can't tell you, as he has left the place."

" Is any member of his family here? "

" No. All of them went with him."

" Have you the keys of this factory? "

" I have."

" Then I must trouble you to open it, as I wish
to look inside."

As the two entered the building, and the offi-
cer Qaugiht sight of the machinery used in can-
ning' lobsters, he said:

" I am very sorry, Mr. Grant, but I have orders
to destroy everything found in this factory that
has been, or may be, used in the canning of
lobsters."

" Those orders apply to the property of Mrs.
"William Baldwin, do they not? "

"They do."

" Then, sir, since she no longer owns this build-
ing, and I do, together with all that it contains,
I warn you that if you destroy one penny's worth
of my property I shall at once bring suit f^ dam-
ages against both you and your commanding of-

li:

. 11

,/• I

BLUFFING THE BRITISH NAVY. Ill

ficer. I can command plenty of money and a
powerful influence at home, both of which shall
be brought to bear on the case. If it goes against
you my claim will be pressed by the American
Government at the Court of St. James. More-
over, articles concerning the outrage will be pub-
lished in all the leading American papers. Pub-
lic sentiment will be aroused, and you doubtless
know as well as any one whether England, with
all the troubles now on her hands, can afford to
incur the ill will of the American people for the
sake of a pitiful lobster factory. You can see
for yourself that no illegal business — nor in fact
business of any kind — is being carried on here
at present, and, under the circumstances, I would
advise you to take time for serious reflection be-
fore you begin to destroy the property of an
American citizen."

Bewildered by this unexpected aspect of the
situation, and remembering how a suit brought
by the proprietors of that same factory had gone
against a former British commander who had in-
terfered with its operations, the officer hemmed
and hawed and made several remarks uncompli-
mentary to Americans, but finally decided to lay
the case before his captain. As he reentered
his launch he said :

" Of course you understand, sir, that no work
of any kind is to be done in this building between

"ir

5..

lpl'i

>'• :*;

fli

ij:

■

1 ^

I''

1. ■■

"■•I r ''ii

/^ '

112

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

this and the time of my return, nor may anything
whatever be removed from it.''

" I understand perfectly," replied Cabot. Yet
within half an hour the employees of the factory
had returned to their tasks, fires had been re-
lighted, kettles were boiling merrily, and the
place again hummed with busy activity.

" Young feller, it was the biggest bluff I ever
see, and it worked! " exclaimed Captain Ezekiel
Bland a few minutes earlier, as he stood on the
wharf with Cabot watching the departing launch.

^■>

•». r

^:>-''*

/•I

ything

t. Yet
'actory
sen re-
id the

I ever
Izekiel
on the
mnch.

-(*■»

"^.. t

CHAPTER XII.

ENGLAIO) AND FRANCE COME TO BLOWS.

The Baldwins returned to their home shortly
after the departure of the discomfited officer, and
listened with intense interest to Cabot's report
of all that had taken place during their absence.
" No one but a Yankee would have thought of
such a plan!" exclaimed White, "or had the
cheek to carry it out. But it makes me feel as
mean as dirt to have run away and left you to
face the music alone."

" You needn't," replied Cabot, « for your ab-
sence was one of the most important things, and
I couldn't possibly have carried out the pro-
gramme if you had been there. N"ow, though,
we've got to hustle, for I expect that navy dhap
will be back again to-morrow, and whatever we
can accomplish between now and then will prob-
ably end the lobster-packing business so far as
this factory is concerned."

That night the workers received a reinforce-
ment, as unexpected as it was welcome, from the

crew of the Yankee schooner, who, led by Cap-
8

-. #

114

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

i- ! '

W'^'

, M'

•\';U

tain Bland, came to assist their fellow country-
man in his struggle against foreign oppression;
With this timely and expert aid, the canning
business was so i*ushcd that by ten o'clock of the
next morning, when the lookout again reported
a launch to be approaching, every can was filled
and the pack was completed. More than half of
it had also been removed from the factory and
stowed aboard the " Sea Bee," ready for delivery
to the St. Johns purchaser.

" I wish he were here now," said White, " so
that we might settle up our business mth him be-
fore those chaps arrive."

" Well, he isn't," replied Cabot, " and we must
protect the goods as best we can until he comes.
In the meantime I think you'd better disappear
and leave me to manage alone, the same as I did
yesterday."

" No. I won't run away again. I'm going
to stay and face the music."

" All right," agreed Cabot. " Perihaps it will
be just as well, since the factory is closed sure
enough this time. You must let me do all the
talking, though, and perhaps in some way we'll
manage to scare 'em off again."

" If we could have just one day more we'd be
all right," said White, " but there they come.
Only, I say! They are Frenchmen this time.
See the flag."

r- 1

ENGLAND AND FRANCE FIGHT. 115

Sure enough. Instead of flying the British
T'nion Jack the launch that now appeared in the
harbour displayed the tri-colour of the French
Republic. Thus, when Cabot and White
reached the wharf, they were just in time to
greet their acquaintance of St. Pierre, the lieu-
tenant of the French frigate "Isla," whom
White had so neatly outwitted in that port. As
he stepped ashore he was accompanied by a
sharp-featured, black-browed individual, whom
White recognised as M. Delom, proprietor of
a French lobster factory located on another shore
of the bay.

" That chap has come for pickings and steal-
ings," he remarked in a low tone.

" Shouldn't wonder," returned Cabot, " for he
looks like a thief."

" Ah, ha. Monsieur Baldwin ! I haf catch you
zis time, an' you cannot now gif me what you call
ze sleep," cried the French lieutenant. " Also
I am come to siz your property, for you may no
more can ze lob of ze Fran§aise. BehoF! I
have ze authorization."

So saying, the officer drew forth and unfolded
with a flourish a paper that he read aloud. It
was an order for the confiscation and removal of
all property owned by a person, or persons,
named Baldwin, and used by them contrary to
law in canning lobsters on the French territory

-- I

J* • -

i ,<: i

iij-rt

116

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

of Newfoundland, and it was signed: " Char-
mian, Capitan de Fregate."

" So, Monsieur Baldwin," continued the offi-
cer, when he had finished the reading, " you will
gif to me zc key of your factory zat I may from
it remof ze materiel. I sail also take your
schooner for to convey it to ze factory of M.
Delom. Is it plain, ma intention? "

" Your intention is only too plain," responded
White. " You are come to aid that thief in
stealing my property; but you are too late, for
the factory no longer belongs to the Baldwin
family."

" Ah ! Is it so ? Who zen belong to it ? "

" This gentleman is the present ow^ner," re-
plied White, " and you must arrange your busi-
ness mth him."

" Who is he ? " demanded the Frenchman, sur-
veying Cabot contemptuously from head to foot.
" But I do not care. Ze material mus all ze same
be remof."

" I am an American citizen," interrupted
Cabot, " and I forbid you to touch my property.
If you do so I shall claim damages through the
American government, and in the meantime I
shall call on the British frigate now in this bay
for protection."

" For ze Americains I do not care," cried the
Frenchman, assuming a theatrical attitude.

r I

re-

ENQLAND AND FRANCE FIGHT. 117

" For r Anglais, pouf ! I also care not. When it
is my duty I do him. Ze material raus be remof.
Aliens, mes gargons." /

A dozen French bluejackets, armed with cut-
lasses and pistols, had gathered behind their
leader, and now these sprang fonvard with a
shout, clearing a way through the collected
throng of villagers. Advancing upon the main
entrance to the factory, they quickly battered
down its door and rushed inside. With them went
swarthy-faced Delom, who gloated over the spoil
that now seemed within his grasp, and which
would make his own factory the best equipped
on the coast. He was especially pleased to note
the pack all boxed ready for shipment, and our
lads saw him direct the officer's attention to it.
As a result the latter gave an order, and in an-
other minute a file of French bluejackets, each
with a case of canned lobster on his shoulder,
was marching towards the door.

Just as they reached it there came a shout and
a tramp of heavy feet from the outside. Then
a stem voice cried :

" Halt! What are you doing here, you French
beggars? Drop those boxes and clear out."

As the Frenchmen halted irresolute, their of-
ficer, who could not see what was going on, but
imagined that some of the villagers were block-
ing the entrance, shouted for them to march on

•• »

•f

118

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

and clear away the cauaille who dared oppose
them. ^

The French bluejackets attempted to obey,
but, with their first forward movement, they
were met by an inrush of sturdy British sailors,
who sent them and their burdens crashing to the
floor in every direction. Some of them as they
regained their feet drew their cutlasses, while
others fell upon the new-comers with their fists.
A pistol shot rang out, and a British sailor pitched
heavily forward. At -the same instant both
officers sprang into the melee, beating back
their men with the flat of their swords, and
fiercely ordering them to desist from further
fighting.

So sharp had been the brief encounter between
these hereditary enemies, that as they sullenly
withdrew their clutch from each other's throats
a British sailor remained on the floor striving to
staunch the blood that spurted from a bullet
wound in his leg, while nefci* at hand lay a French
bluejacket, as white and motionless as though
dead. Another Frenclriuun had a broken arm,
while several others on both sides looked askance
at their enemies from blackened eyes and swollen
faces.

" Sir! " cried the French lieutenant, the mo-
ment order was so far restored that he could
make himself heard, " I am bidden by my com-

ared oppose

ed to obey,
>ment, they
itish sailors,
shing to the
lem as they
asses, while
1 their fists,
lilor pitched
istant both
ating back
words, and
om further

ter between
ey sullenly
er's throats

striving to
m a bullet
ly a French

as though
roken arm,
:ed askance
md swollen

it, the mo-
t he could
y my com-

OTHERS FKLI. OX THK NEW-COMERS WITH THEIR FISTS.

.^.

IV, i '

f I

ENGLAND AND FRANCE FIGHT. 121

mandant, ze Chevalier Charmian, capitan de
frigate Msla/ to remof all material from zis
building, and in his name I protest against zis
mos outrage interference."

"Sir," answered the British officer, "I am
ordeied by my captain to destroy all property
contained in this building, and not permit the
removal of a single article."

" But I will not allow it destroyed!"
" And I will not allow it removed."
For a moment the two glared at each other in
speechless rage. Then the Frenchman said:

" As humanity compels me to gif immediate
attention to my men, wounded by ze unprovoked
assault of your barbarians, I sail at once carry
zem to my sheep, where I sail immediately also
report zis outrage to my commandant."

"Same here," replied the Englishman, laconic-
ally, and with this both officers ordered their men
to fall back to the launches, carrying with them
their wounded comrades.

During the progreR-; erf this thrilling episode
our two lads had watched it in breathless excite-
ment without once thinl iu^; of leaving the build-
ing, though a back door opened close at hand.
So intend were they upon what was taking place
tliat tney did not notice the approach of a third
person until he was close beside them and had
addressed White by name. He was the St. Johns

r I

122

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

.- '»■,

,!.; 1:;

travelling man, who had engaged tl. j Baldwin
pack for his firm, and now he said in low, hur-
ried tones :

" You fellows want to skip out of this while
you can, for that British officer has got orders to
arrest you both and carry you to St. Johns for
trial. Charges — contempt of court and carrying
on an illegal business. Awfully sorry I can't
take your goods, but order has been issued that
any one handling them will also be arrested and
subject to heavy fine. Hurry up. They are
making a move, and he'll be looking for you di-
rectly. Don't let on that I gave you the tip."

With this the man moved away, and without
exchanging a word our lads slipped out of the
nearby door.

So fully was the British officer occupied in
getting his men back to their launch without
making another attack upon their hated rivals,
that not until all were safely on board did he
remember that he had been charged to bring
off two prisoners. Now he was in a quandary.
Those whom he desired were nowhere to be seen,
and he dared not leave his men, whose fighting
blood was still at fever heat, long enough to go
in search of them. Also the French launch was
about to depart, and it would never do for the
captain of the " Isla " to be informed of the re-
cent unfortunate encounter in advance of his

r (

ENGLAND AND FRANCE FIGHT. 123

own commander. So, Avith a last futile look
ashore, he reluctantly gave the order to shove off,
and side by side, their crews screaming taunts at
each other, the two launches raced out of the
harbour.

As Cabot and White watched them from a
place of snug concealment, the latter heaved a
sigh of relief, saying:

"Well, I'm mighty glad they're gone, and
liaven't got us with them; but I do wish that fight
could have lasted a few minutes longer."

"Wasn't it lovely!" retorted Cabot, "and
isn't the lobster industry on this coast just about
the most exciting business in the world! "

T -, T *

j.iii

.•(

CHAPTER XIII.

A PRISONER OF WAR.

"With the disaj. , -ance of the launches our
lads realised that it ^vas time to make new plans
for immediate action. So, as they walked slowly
back towards the village, they eariestly discussed
the situation.

" It is too bad that I have drawn you into such
a scrape," said White, " and the very first thing
for me to do is to make an effort to get you out of
it. So, if you like, I will drive you over to the
station this afternoon, where you can take the
morning train for St. Johns."

" No," replied Cabot, '' that wouldn't do at all.
In the first place, you didn't draw me into the
scrape. I went into it with my eyes open, and
am quite ready to stand by what I have done.
In fact I rather enjoy it than otherv\4se. At the
same time I do not propose to be arrested if I
can help it, and for that reason do not care to
visit St. Johns at present. Even at the railway
station we should be very likely to meet and be
recognised by some of our recent unpleasant

r t

A PRISONER OF WAR.

naval acquaintances. Besides, I am going to see
this thing through, and shall stand by you just
as long as I can be of any service, for I hope you
don't think so meanly of me as to imagine that I
would desert in the time of his trouble the fellow
who saved my life."

" I never for one moment thought meanly of
you," declared White, " and I know that in rescu-
ing you from that raft I also gained for myself
one of the best friends I ever had. For that very
reason, though, I don't want to abuse your
friendship."

" All right," laughed Cabot. " Whenever I
feel abused I'll let you know. And now, it being
settled that we are to fight this thing out together,
what do ;you propose to do with the pack we have
worked so hard to make? "

" I don't know," replied White, despondently;
" but, as it is legally your property, I think you
ought to decide what is to be done with it."

"JSTonsense! " retorted Cabot. "It no more
really belongs to me than it does to that black-
faced Frenchman. At the same time I'd fight
rather than let him have it."

" I'd toss every case into the sea first," cried
White, " and everything the factory contains be-
sides."

" ' Same here,' as the Englishman said; but I
guess we can do better than that. Why not ac-

r I

126

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

h ■

cept Captain Bland's offer, and trade it to him
for groceries? " ^

" I thought you were opposed to receiving
smuggled goods? "

" So I am on general principles," admitted
Cabot, " but circumstances alter cases. I con-
sider the highway robbery that two of the most
powerful nations of the world are attempting
right here a circumstance strong enough to alter
any case. So T would advise you to accept the
only offer now remaining open. You will at
least get enough g: oceries to keep your family
supplied for a year."

" I should say so, and for two years more, pro-
vided the goods didn't spoil."

" Then you might sell what you couldn't use."

"Where?" asked White. " Xot in New-
foundland, for they would be seized as contra-
band in any part of the island. Besides, you
seem to forget that as both of us are liable to
arrest, we are hardly in a position to go into the
grocery business just at present."

" That's so. Well, then, why not carry them
somewhere else in the ' Sea Bee ' ? To Canada,
or — I have it! You said something once about
making a trading trip to Labrador, and now is
the very opportunity. Why shouldn't we take
the goods to Labrador? I don't believe we'd be
arrested in that country, even for smuggling,

•^••sjfe

r i

A PRISONER OF WAR.

127

and they must need a lot of provisions up there.
It's the very thing, and the sooner we can ar-
range to be off the better."

" But you don't want to go to Labrador," pro-
tested White.

"Don't I? There's where you make a big
mistake; for I do want to go to Labrador more
than to any other place I know of . Also I would
rather go there with you in the ' Sea Bee ' than
in any other company, or by any other convey-
ance. So there you are, and if you don't invite
me to start for Labrador before that brass-bound
navy chap has a chance to arrest me, I shall
consider myself a victim of misplaced confi-
dence."

" I do believe you have hit upon the very best
. way out of our troubles," said White, thought-
fully. " If I could arrange to leave mother, and
if the Yankee captain would make a part pay-
ment in cash, so that she and Cola could get along
until my return, I believe I would go."

" You can leave your mother and sister now
as well as when you went to St. Johns, and bet-
ter, for I am sure David Gidge would look out
for them during the month or so that we'll be
away."

" But David would have to go along to help
work the schooner."

" I don't see why. You and I could manage

I ■ n

I ,

r I

128

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

without him, and so save his wages, or his share
of the voyage, which would amount to the same
thing. If one man can sail u 30-foot boat
around the world alone, as Captain Slocum did,
two of us certainly ought to be able to take a 50-
foot schooner up to Labrador and back. Any
way I'm game to try it, if you are, and I'd a heap
rather risk it than stay here to be arrested. There
is Captain Bland now. Let's go and talk mtli
him."

The Yankee skipper stood near the shattered
door of the factory in company with a number
of villagers, all of whom seemed greatly inter-
ested in something going on inside. As our lads
drew near these made way for them, and Captain
Bland said :

" 'Pears like the new owner is making himself
perfectly at home."

Inside the factory the Frenchman Delom, who
had remained behind to make good his claim to
the confiscated property of his rival, was too bus-
ily at work to pay any attention to the disparag-
ing remarks and muttered threats of those whom
he had forbidden to enter. He had collected all
the tools and lighter machinery into a pile ready
for removal, and was now marking with his own
stencil such of the filled cases as remained on the
lower floor.

So dreaded was the power of France on that

his share
tlie same
'oot boat
cum did, '
ake a so-
le. Any
'd a heap
d. There
talk with

shattered
number
:ly inter-
! our lads
[ Captain

J himself

om, who
claim to
too bus-
isparag-
3e whom
3cted all
le ready
his own
i on the

Livm WITH RAGE, THE FRENCHMAN WHIPPED OUT AN UGLY-LOOKINO

KNIFE,

on that

i 1 ,1

' -0

A PBISONEH OF WAE.

131

English coast that up to that moment no one had
dared interfere with him, but Cabot Grant was
not troubled by a fear of France or any other
nation, and, as he realised what was going on, he
sprang into the building. The next instant our
young football player had that Frenchman by
the collar and was rushing him towards the door-
way. From it he projected him so violently that
the man measured his length on the ground a full
rod beyond it.

Livid with rage at this assault, the Frenchman
scrambled to his feet, whipped out an ugly-look-
ing knife, and started towards Cabot with mur-
derous intent.

"No you don't," shouted Captain Bland, and
in another moment Monsieur Delom's arms were
pinioned behind him, while he st-uggled help-
lessly in the iron grasp of the Yankee skipper.

" I think we'd better tie him," remarked the
latter quietly. " 'Tain't safe to let a varmint
like this loose on any community."

White produced a rope and was stepping for-
ward with it, but Cabot took it from him, saying:
" For the sake of your family you mustn't have
anything to do with this affair." So he and Cap-
tain Bland bound the Frenchman hand and foot,
took away his knife, and carried him for present
safe keeping to a small, dark building that was
used for the storage of fish oil. Here they locked

. 1 n\

( 1

f .1

I' » :

132

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

him in, and left him to meditate at leisure on the
fate of those who have done to them, what they
would do to others if they could.

" Well," said Captain Bland, at the conclusion
of this incident, " you young fellers always seem
to have something interesting on hand; what are
you going to do next? Are you going to skin
out, or wait for the return of the French and Eng-
lish fleets? I'd like to know, 'cause I want to be
getting a move on; but if there's going to be
any more fun I expect I'll have to wait and take
it in."

" I expect our next move depends very largely
on you, captain," replied White. " Are you still
willing to trade your cargo for our pack? "

" I might be, and then again I mightn't," an-
swered the Yankee, as he meditatively chewed a
blade of grass. " You see, the risk of the thing
has been so increased during the past two days
that I couldn't make nigh so good an offer now
as I could at first. Also, here's so many claim-
ing the pack of this factory tht;t I'm in consider-
able doubt as to who is the rightful owner. First
there's the Baldwin interest and the American
interest, represented by you two chaps. Then
there's the St. Johns interest, represented by that
travelling man; the British interest, which is a
mighty powerful one, seeing that it is supported
by the English navy; the French government

f^-

A PRISONER OF WAR.

133

re on the
^hat they

Dnclusion
ays seem
what are
y to skin
and Eng-
ant to be
ng to be
and take

y largely
J you still

;n't," an-
3hewed a
he thing
wo days
¥er now
ly claim-
3onsider-
\r. First
imerican
Then
I by that
lich is a
ipported
jrmnent

interest, which is likewise backed up by a fleet
of warships, and the French factory interest,
represented by our friend in limbo, who, though
he isn't saying much just now, seems to have a
pretty strong political pull. So, on the wliole,
the ownership appears to be muddled, and the
pack itself subject to a good many conflicting
claims. I expect also that the factory workmen
and the lobster catchers have some sort of a lien
on it for services rendered."

" Look here. Captain Bland," said Cabot, " we
understand perfectly that all you have just said
is trade talk, made to depreciate the value of our
goods, and you know as well as I do that they
have but one rightful owner."

" Who is that? " asked the skipper with an air
of interest.

" Mrs. William Baldwin."

"But I thought she deeded the property to you."

" So she did; but as I am not yet of age that
deed is worth no more than the paper on which
it is written."

" You don't mean it. What a whopping big
bluff it was then! " cried Captain Bland, admir-
ingly. " Beats any I ever heard of, and I'm
proud to know Hwas a Yankee that worked it.
What you say does alter the situation consider-
able, and I'd like to have Miss Baldwin's own
views on the subject of a trade."

'•IF

fill

[

I !

f ^

I 1

134

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

In accordance with this wish an adjournment
was made to the house, where Mrs. Baldwin as-
sured the Yankee skipper of her willingness to
abide by any agreement made with him by her
son and Mr. Grant.

" Which so simplifies matters, ma'am," replied
the captain, " that I think we may consider a
trade as already effected, and make bold to say
that this season's pack of the Pretty Harbour
lobster factory will be sold somewhere's else
besides Newfoundland."

AR.

djoumment
Baldwin as-
llingness to
him by her

m," replied
consider a
bold to say
y Harbour
here^s else

CHAPTER XIV.

THE " SEA BEE " UNDER FIRE.

The arrangement made with the Yankee
skipper was satisfactory, save in one respect.
He was willing to trade provisions for canned
lobsters to the extent of taking the entire pack,
and he also offered to remove the machinery
outfit of the factory on the chance of finding a
purchaser for it in the States, but he refused to
make any cash advance on the goods.

" I'm willing," he said, " to risk considerable
for the sake of being accommod?ting, and with
the hope of making a little something, but I can't
afford to risk cold cash."

" I don't see how we can make a trade, then,"
remarked White, as he and Cabot discussed the
situation. "It will take every penny I've got
to pay off the hands, and though I believe we
could make a good thing out of a Labrador trip,
I can't leave mother and Cola without a cent
while I'm away. If he would only let me have
fifty dollars—

" He won't, though," interrupted Cabot, " but

hi;!'

■?r

iiJ::

•lA

ill

iil

,<■ (

136

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

I will. I have got just that amount of money
with me, and, as I shan't have any use for it in
Labrador, I should be more than pleased to leave
it here for safe keeping."

White at first refused to take his friend's
money; but on Cabot's declaring that he had
plenty more on deposit in St. Johns, h ^rate-
fully accepted the loan, which he promised to
repay from the very first sale of goods they
should make.

Everything being thus arranged, preparations
for departure were pushed with all speed. Such
of the pack as remained in the factory was hur-
ried aboard the " Ruth " by a score of willing
workers, who also transferred to her every tool
and bit of machinery, including the big kettles.
Then she and the " Sea Bee," the latter manned
by two of the Yankee sailors, with David Gidge
as pilot, sailed from the harbour, and were lost
to sight beyond its protecting headland.

The next hour was spent in settling with the
lobster catchers and those Avho had been em-
ployed in the factory, each of whom was warned
to give no information concerning the move-
ments of the two schooners. This was barely
finished when the boy who had been posted out-
side immediately after the departure of the
naval launches came hurrying in with news that
both of them wero returning.

I i

AR.

THE ''SEA BEE'' UNDER FIRE. 137

t of money
ise for it in
3ed to leave

lis friend's
lat he had
, h jate-
ronused to
?oods they

reparations
ed. Such
Y was hur-
of willing
every tool
ig kettles.
iT manned
vid Gidge
were lost

: with the
been em-
as warned
lie move-
as barely
3sted out-
e of the
lews that

"My! " cried Cabot, " but I'd like to see the
fun when they get here."

" I am afraid you'd see more than enough of
it," replied White, " for they'll be keen on get-
ting us this time. So we'd best be starting.
Hold on a minute, though; I want to leave proof
behind that we haven't gone off with either of
the schooners."

With this he ran down to the oil house, in
which their well-nigh forgotten prisoner was still
confined. Flinging open the door, he said, in a
tone of well-feigned regret:

"It is too bad, Monsieur Delom, that you
should have been kept so long in this wretched
place, but I dared not attempt your release while
those terrible Yankees were here. Now, how-
ever, they are gone and you are once more free.
Also, as I realise that I can no longer maintain
my factory here, you are at liberty to make what
use you please of its contents, xlccept my con-
gratulations on your good fortune, monsieur. As
for me, I must now leave you to prepare for my
journey to St. Johns."

With this White bade the bewildered French-
man a mocking adieu, and left him still blinking
at the sunlight from which he had been so long
secluded.

A few minutes later the Baldwin house again
stood closed and tenantlcss, while a cart driven

,'.#

*.*

miL^jRill.J^i^

■■V

r '

138

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

by Cola, and accompanied by the two young
men on foot, climbed the hill back of the village
by a road leading to the nearest railway station.
Monsieur Delom witnessed this departure, as did
many others, but no one saw the cart leave the
highway a little later and turn into a dim trail
leading through an otherwise pathless forest.
After a time it emerged from this on another
road and came to a farmhouse to which Mrs.
Baldwin had previously been taken. Here
mother and son bade each other farewell, while
the former also prayed for a blessing upon the
stranger who had so befriended them, and whose
fortunes had become so curiously linked with
theirs. Then the cart with Cola still acting as
driver rattled away, and was quickly lost to sight.

It lacked but an hour of sunset when our refu-
gees reached a pocket on the outer coast, in
which the two schooners lay snugly, side by side,
nearly filling the tiny harbour. On the beach
David Gidge already waited, and, as the lads
transferred their few effects to the boat that had
brought him ashore, he climbed stiffly into the
cart which Cola was to guide back over the way
it had just come.

" Good-bye, Cola," said Cabot, as he held for
a moment the hand of the girl he had come to
regard almost as a sister. " Try and have a lot
of specimens ready for me when we come back."

THE ''SEA BEE'' UNDER FIRE. 139

^o young
be village
ly station,
ire, as did
leave the
dim trail
3S forest,
another
ich Mrs.
Here
sll, while
ipon the
id whose
ed with
cting as
to sight,
ur ref u-
oast, in
by side,
3 beach
he lads
bat had
ato the
be way

eld for
)nie to
e a lot
back."

" Good-bye, sister! " cried White. " Take care
of mother, and don't let her worry about us.
We'll be back almost before you have time to
miss us. Good-bye, David! I trust you to look
out for them because you have promised."

" Oh! how I wish I were a boy and going with
you," exclaimed Cola. "It is so stupid to be
left behind with nothing to do but just wait.
Do please hurry back."

"All right," replied her brother. "With
good luck we'll sail into Pretty Harbour inside
of a month, and perhaps with money enough to
take us all to the States."

" Oh, wouldn't that be splendid! Do get
started, for the sooner you are off the quicker
you'll come back," cried the girl.

" That's so. Come on, Cabot," and in an-
other minute the boat had shot out from the
beach, while the cart was slowly climbing the
rugged trail that led inland.

On reaching the schooners our lads found
Captain Bland impatiently awaiting them,
since the transfer of goods was nearly com-
pleted, and he was anxious to get his compromis-
ing cargo av/ay from the coast patrolled by those
meddlesome frigates.

" Let me once get beyond the three-mile
limit," he said, " and I wouldn't mind meeting
a fleet of 'emj if either one of 'em caught me in

•ri;

»(■'

ftW

[■

•II

ft 'II

^rhl i-|

140

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

here, though, I'd not only stand to lose cargo, but
schooner as well. So I reckon we'd best get, a
move on at once, and talk business while we tow
out."

As our lads were equally desirous of gaining
a safe distance from the authorities they had so
openly defied, they readily agreed to Captain
Bland's proposal, and four dories, each manned
by a couple of stalwart Yankee fishermen, were
ordered to tow the schooners from their snug hid-
ing place. While this was going on, and White
was busily engaged on the deck of the " Sea
Bee," Cabot and Captain Bland were examining
invoices and price lists in her cabin.

" Here's a list of all I've put aboard," said the
latter, " and you'll see I've only made a small
freight charge over and above the cost price in
Boston. Same time I've allowed for your pack
the full market price on canned lobsters accord-
ing to latest St. Johns quotations, and you ought
not to sell a single barrel at less 'n one hundred
per cent, clear profit. As for the kettles and
tools, here's an order on my owners in Gloucester
for them, or what they'll fetch less a freight
charge, provided I get 'em there all right; but
I want both you and young Baldwin to sign this
release that frees me from all claims for loss of
property in case anything happens to 'em."

"I am perfectly willing to sign it," replied

THE ''SEA BEE'' UNDER FIRE. 141

Cabot, "because I have no ownership in the
property, but I shouldn't think Baldwin would
care to give such a release."

" I guess he will, though," said the skipper.

And he was right, for White readily consented
to sign the paper, saying that the property would
have been lost anyhow if it had been left behind.
" I have also full faith that Captain Bland will
do the right thing about it," he added, "for,
while I have always found you Yankees sharp
as knives in a trade, I have yet to meet one whom
I wouldn't trust."

" Thank you, Mr. Baldwin," said the skipper,
" and I shall try my best not to be the first to
abuse your confidence."

So the paper was signed, and White had
barely laid down his pen when the occupants of
the cabin were startled by a loud cry from above,
followed almost immediately by a distant shot.
Hurrying on deck they found that the schooner
had reached open water and was beginning to
feel the influence of an offshore breeze. At
the same time the man whom White had left at
the tiller was pointing up the coast, Avhere they
caught sight of a steam launch that had just
cleared South Head.

" He fired a shot at us," announced the steers-
man.

" That's all right 'long's he didn't hit us," re-

M
I'lj '

142

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR,

plied Captain Bland. " It is our French friend,
and he only took that way of hinting that he
wished ns to wait for him. I don't think we can
afford the time just now, though — leastways, I
can't. Hello there in boats! Drop your tow
lines and come alongside."

" Do you think there is any chance of our get-
ting away from him? " asked Cabot.

" Dunno. Mebbe, if the breeze freshens, as
I believe it will. Anyhow, I'm going to give
him a race for his money. Good-bye ! Good
luck, and I hope we'll meet again before long."

So saying Captain Bland, taking the steersman
with him, stepped into a dory that had come
alongside and was rowed towards his own
schooner. He had hardly gained her deck be-
fore she set main and jib topsails and a big main
staysail. Our lads also sprang to their own sails,
and spread to the freshening breeze every stitch
of canvas that the " Sea Bee " possessed. "When
they next found time to look at the "Ruth,"
White uttered an exclamation of astonishment,
for she had already gained a good half mile on
them and was moving with the speed of a steam
yacht.

" There's no chance of the Yankee being
caught," he said enviously, " but there's a mighty
big one that we will."

Although the "Sea Bee " was holding a course

THE ''SEA BEE'' UNDER FIRE. 143

in the wake of the "Ruth," and was heeled
handsomely over before the same freshening
breeze, she was not doing so well by a half, and
it was evident that in a long run the launch must
overtake her.

" She is certainly gaining on us," said Cabot,
after a long look, and he had hardly spoken be-
fore a second shot irom the launch plumped a
ball into the water abreast of the little schooner
and not two rods away.

White, who was at the tiller, glanced ner-
vously backward. " Do you want to heave to
and let them overhaul us? " he asked.

"Certainly not," replied Cabot promptly.
" They have no right to meddle with us out here,
and I would keep straight on without paying the
slightest attention to them until they either sink
us or get alongside."

"All right," laughed the other. "I only
wanted to make sure how you felt. Some fel-
lows, you know, don't like to have cannon balls
fired at them."

I'"

CHAPTER XV.

OFF FOR LABBADOB.

■i'.;-

t 'fT

Slowly but surely the launch gained on the
flying schooner, until, as the sun was sinking
behind its western horizon of water, she fired a
shot that passed through the " Sea Bee's " main-
sail and fell a hundred yards beyond her.

" Wh-e-e-wl " exclaimed White, as he glanced
up at the clean-cut hole. " That's rather too
close for comfort^ ar.r'. I shouldn't be surprised
if the next one made splinters fly. However, it
will soon be dark, and then, if we are not dis-
abled, we may be able to give them the slip."

" I don't believe there's going to be another
shot," cried Cabot, who was gazing eagerly
astern. " No — yes — hurrah ! They are turn-
ing back. They have given it up, old man, and
we are safe. Bully for us ! I wonder what pos-
sesses them to do such a thing, though, when they
had so nearly caught us? "

" Can't imagine," replied White, who was also
staring at the launch, which certainly had circled
back and was making towards the place whence

OFF FOR LABRADOR.

she had come. " They are afraid to be caught
out at sea after dark perhaps. I always under-
stood that Frenchmen made mighty poor sailors.
Lucky thing for us she wasn't a British launch,
for they'd have kept on around the world but
what they'd had us."

In justice to the Frenchmen it should be said
that their reason for turning back, which our
lads did not learn until long afterwards, was the
imminent exhaustion of their coal supply, which,
not calculated for a long cruise, would barely
serve to carry them back to the Bay of Islands.

By the time the launch was lost to sight in the
growing dusk the " Ruth " had also disappeared.
She was headed southward when last seen, and
now White said it was time that they, too, were
turning towards their ultimate destination. So,
topsails and mainstaysail were taken in, and the
helm was put down until fore and mainsails jibed
over. Then sheets were trimmed until the little
schooner, with lee rail awash, was running some-
thing east of north, on an easy bowline, carrying
a bone in her teeth and leaving a bubbling wake
trailing far astern. With everything thus satis-
factorily in shape. White lighted the binnacle
lamp, and giving Cabot a course to steer, went
below to prepare the first meal of their long
cruise. " You must keep a sharp lookout," he

said as he disappeared down the companionway,
10

f I '

i. -1

' (

Ml'

m
m

}

n\ if

146

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

" for I don't dare show any lights. So if we are
run into we'll have only ourselves to blame."

Left thus to his own devices, Cabot realised
for the first time the responsibility of his position
and began to reflect seriously upon what he had
done. Until this time one disturbing event had
followed another so rapidly that he had been
borne along almost without a thought of what he
was doing or of the consequences. As a result,
instead of carrying out the purpose for which he
had been sent to Newfoundland, and studying
its mineral resources, he now found himself
forced into flight for having defied the authori-
ties of the island, embarked upon a doubtful
trading venture into one of the wildest and least
known portions of the continent, and with but
a slight knowledge of seamanship, engaged in
navigating a small sailing vessel across one of its
stormiest seas. What would his guardian and
employer say could he know all this and see him
at the present moment?

"I wish he could, though," exclaimed Cabo+
half aloud, " for it would be fun to watch his
look of amazement and hear his remarks. ^
pose he is wondering what has become o lat
Bell Island report I was to send in the first thiiig,
and I guess he'll have to wonder for some time
longer, as St. Johns is about the last place I feel
like visiting just at present. I certainly have

OFF FOR LABRADOR.

147

made a mess of my affairs, tbongli, so far, and it
looks as if I had only just begun, too. At the
same time I don't sec how I could have acted dif-
ferently. I tried hard enough to reach St.
Johns, and would have got there all right if it
hadn't been for this factory business. But when
the fellow who saved my life got into trouble,
from which I could help him out, I'm sure even
Mr. Hepburn would say I was bound to do it.
Besides, I have found one promising outcrop
of copper, and now I'm off for Labrador; so
perhaps things will turn out all right after all.
Anyway I'm learning how to sail a boat, and
that is something every fellow ought to know,
i wish it wasn't so awfully dark though, and that
White would hurry up with that supper, for I
am powerful hungry. How good it smells, and
what a fine chap he is. Falling in with him was
certainly a great bit of luck. But how this con-
founded compass wabbles, and how the schooner
jumps off her course if I lift my eyes from it f ot
a single instant. I don't see why she can't go
straight if I hold the tiller perfectly still.
There's a star dead ahead, and I guess I'll steer
by it. Then I can keep the sharp lookout White
spoke of at the same time."

Thus deciding, the anxious helmsman fixed his
gaze upon the newly risen star that lie had just
discovered, and wondered admiringly at its rapid

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

I:' f t

ill ..

4.''' ll

k\ il

Ml '^

§• ?■

K .-

iu^i .

■fiilh ^y'l'

I k ' i"*!

1 ! ! h

ii<i''Jil

1;5

rii

;' I .i:

Ji|:

Vlil

5 I

increase in brilliancy. After a little he rubbed
his eyes and looked again at two more stars that
had suddenly ^^ppeared above the horizon di-
rectly below Ihe first one.

" !Never saw red and green stars before," Ca-
bot muttered. " Must be peculiar to this high
latitude. AVonder if they can be stars, though?
Oh ! what a chump I am. White ! I say, White,
come up here quick! "

In obedience to this summons the young skip-
per thrust his head from the companionway.

" What's up? " he asked.

" Don't know exactly," replied Cabot, " but
there is a lighthouse or a dock or something right
in front of us."

" Steamer ! " cried White as he sprang on deck
and glanced ahead. " Keep her away, quick.
I don't want them to sight us."

" Steamer," repeated Cabot as he obeyed this
order and let the schooner fall off to leeward. " I
never thought of such a thing as a steamer away
up here. Do you mean that she is a frigate? "

" No," laughed White. " There are other
steamers besides frigates even in these waters,
and that is one of them. She is the ' Harlaw,'
from riower Cove, near the northern end of the
island, and bound for Halifax. It's mighty
lucky she didn't pass us by daylight."

"Why?"

OFF FOR LABRADOR.

149

"Because she is already heading in for the
Bay of Islands and would have reported us as
soon as she got there. Then we would have had
a frigate after us sure enough."

"But how do you know she's a steamer?
Mightn't she be a sailing vessel? " .

"Kot with that white light at her foremast
head. Sailing vessels aren't allowed to show any
above their side lights. Now go below and eat
your supper while I take her."

This eating alone was such an unpleasant fea-
ture of the cruise that, as Cabot sat down to his
solitary meal, he regretted having persuaded
White to leave David Gidge behind.

"I am afraid this going to sea shorthanded
will prove a false economy after all," he said to
himself, thereby reaching a conclusion that has
been forced upon seafaring men since ships first
sailed the ocean.

Finishing his supper as quickly as possible,
Cabot rejoined his companion, and begged him
also to hurry that they might bear each other
company on deck.

" All right," agreed White, " only, of course,
I shall be longer than you were, for I have to
wash and put away the dishes."

"Oh, bother the dishes!" exclaimed Cabot.
" Let them go till morning."

"Not much. We haven't any too many

'i^

150

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

;v ;f

:! ;.'i

I -ft'

dishes as it is, nor a chance of getting any more,
and if I should leave them where they are we
probably wouldn't have any by morning. Be-
sides, it wouldn't be tidy, and an untidy ship is
worse than an untidy house, because you can't
get away from it. But I won't be long."

True to his promise. White, bringing with
him a heavy oilskin coat and an armful of blank-
ets, speedily rejoined his comrade, who was by
this time shivering in the chill night air.

" Put this on," said the young skipper, tender-
ing Cabot the oilskin, " and then I am going to
ask you to stand first watch. I will roll up in
these blankets and sleep here on deck, so that
you can get me up at a moment's notice. You
want to wake me at midnight, anyhow, when I
will take the morning watch."

'• Very well," agreed Cabot resignedly. " I
suppose you know what is best to be done, but it
seems to me that we are arranging for a very
lonesome cruise on regular Box and Cox lines."

As White had no knowledge of Box and Cox
he did not reply to this grumble, but, rolling up
in his blankets until he resembled a huge cocoon,
almost instantly dropped asleep.

During the next four hours Cabot, shivering
with cold and aching with weariness, but never
once allowing his tired eyes to close, remained at
his post. Through the black night, and over the

OFF FOR LABRADOR.

151

still darker waters, he guided the flying schooner
according to the advice of the unstable compass
card that formed the only spot of light within
his whole range of vision. At the same time,
knowing how little of skill he possessed in this
new line of business, and not yet having a sailor's
confidence in the craft that bore him, he was
filled with such a fear of the night, the wind, the
leaping waters, and a thousand imaginary dan-,
gers that his hardest struggle was against an
ever-present impulse to arouse his sleeping com-
rade. But he would not yield, and finally had
the satisfaction of coming unaided to the end of
his watch.

"Midnight, and all hands on deck," he
shouted, and White, springing up, asked:

" "What's happened? Anything gone wrong? "

" Nothing yet," replied Cabot, " but some-
thing will happen if you leave me at this
wretched tiller a minute longer."

" I won't," laughed the other. " It will only
take me half a minute to get an eye-opener in
shape of a cup of cold tea, and then you can
turn in."

When Cabot was at length free to seek his
bunk he turned in all standing, only kicking off
his boots. The very next thing of which he was
conscious was being shaken and told that break-
fast was ready.

■«'.*
(

m ;

r::i

: ■'.: I '

[■ft Hit

tp
r

152

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

It was broad daylight; the sun was shining;
the breeze had so moderated that White had
been able to leave the schooner to herself with a
lashed helm while he prepared breakfast, and as
Cabot tumbled out he wondered if he had really
been anxious and fearful a few hours earlier.

All that day and through the following night
our lads kept watch and watch while the " Sea
Bee " travelled up the coast. Early on the
second morning they passed Flower Cove, and
from this point White headed directly across the
Strait of Belle Isle, which, here, is but a dozen
miles in width. Then, as Newfoundland grew
dim behind them, a new coast backed by a range
of lofty hills came into view ahead; and, in an-
swer to Cabot's eager question, White said:

" Yes, that is Labrador, and those are the Bra-
dore Hills back of Forteau."

f{ 1

wdsa

CHAPTEK XVI.

MOSQUITOES OF THE FAR NORTH.

While Cabot gazed eagerly at the lofty but
still distant coast towards which all their hopes
were now directed, his companion was casting
anxious glances to the eastward, where a low
hanging bank of cloud betokened an advancing
fog. He had good reason to be apprehensive,
for this northern entrance to the gulf of St.
Lawrence forms the shortest route for steamers
plying between Canadian and European ports.
Consequently many of them use it during the
brief summer season when it is free from ice.
At the same time it is a stormy stretch of water,
tormented by powerful currents, and generally
shrouded in fog.

Early in the season countless icebergs, borne
southward by the Arctic current that hugs the
Labrador coast, drift aimlessly over its troubled
surface, and even at midsummer it is a passage
to be dreaded. White, being familiar with its
many dangers, had good cause for anxiety, as he
saw one of them about to enfold his little craft.

'■. ^

r I

;) 'if

J',f

■Hi

154

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

He consulted the compass, took his bearings mth
the utmost care, and then as Cabot, finding his
view obscured, turned to him with a look of in-
quiry, remarked:

" Yes, we are in for it, and you'd better keep
a sharp lookout for steamers. It wouldn't be
very pleasant to run one down and sink it, you
know."

" I should say not," responded Cabot as he
started for the bow of the schooner, where,
steadying himself by a stay, he peered into the
thickening mist curtain. For half an hour or so
he saw nothing, though during that time the
hoarse bellowing of a steam whistle, approach-
ing closely and then receding, told of a passing
ship. While the lookout was still listening to
this a black form, magnified to gigantic size by
his apprehensions and the opaqueness through
which he saw it, loomed up directly ahead and
apparently not a rod away. With a sharp cry of
warning the lad sprang aft, while a yell of dis-
may came from the stranger. The next mo-
ment, both vessels having been headed sharply
into the wind, lay side by side, heaving and
grinding against each other, with their sails slat-
ting noisily overhead.

As our lads realised the true character of the
other craft, they were ready to laugh at their
fright of a minute earlier, for she was only an

MOSQUITOES OF THE FAR NORTH. 155

open fishing boat, carrying three men, a woman,
and a couple of children.

" We took ye for a steamer, first sight," re-
marked one of the men.

"And we did the same by you," laughed
White. "Who are you and where are you
bound?"

" Mail boat from L'Anse Au Loup for Flower
Cove," replied the man, " and as we're not sure
of our compass we^d be obleeged if you'd give us
a bearing."

"With pleasure. Come aboard and take it
for yourself. If you'll wait just a minute I'll
have a letter ready for you."

So saying the young skipper dived below and
hastily pencilled a line to his mother, telling of
their safety up to that time.

While he was thus engaged Cabot learned that
owing to the recent arrival of a steamer from St.
Johns provisions were plentiful on that part of
the Labrador coast, but werp believed to be
scarce further north.

As a result of this information the " Sea Bee "
was headed more to the eastward after the boats
had again parted company, for, as White said,
there was no use wasting time running in to
Blanc Sablon, Forteau, or any of those places at
which the trading steamer had touched. " It is
too bad," he continued, " for I did hope to dis-

U ;

111

!ii,

■ .r

'5f

. in

15G

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

pose of our cargo somewhere along tere. If we
could do that we might be home again inside of
ten days. Now, if we have to go far to the
northward, it may be two or three weeks longer
before we again sight Blomidon."

" I am sorry for your sake," replied Cabot,
" though I would just as soon spend a month up
here as not. I only wish we could land some-
where along here, for I am curious to see what
kind of a country Labrador is."

This wish was gratified late that afternoon,
when the fog lifted in time to disclose the fine
harbour of Red Bay, into which. White said,
they would run, so as to spend the night quietly
at anchor, with both watches turned in at once.

At Red Bay, therefore, Cabot had his first
taste of life in Labrador. The shores looked so
green and attractive that he wondered why the
only settlement in sight — a collection of a dozen
huts and fish houses, should be located on a rocky
islet, bare and verdureless. He asked White,
who only laughed, and said he'd find out soon
enough by experience.

After they had come to anchor and lowered
the sails. White got an empty water cask into
the dinghy, saying that first of all they must go
about a mile to a trout stream at the head of the
bay for some fresh water.

" Trout stream! " cried Cabot. " How I wish

MOSQUITOES OF THE FAR NORTH. 167

I had my fishing tackle. Trout for supper would
be fine."

" There are other things equally important
with tackle for trout fishing in this country," re-
marked White.

"What, for instance?"

" You'll know inside of half an hour," was the
significant reply.

So they rowed up the bay, Cabot filled with
curiosity and White chuckling with anticipation.
The further they went the more was Cabot
charmed with the beauty of the scene and the
more desirous did he become to ramble over the
green slopes on which, as White assured him, de-
licious berries of several varieties were plentiful.
At length they opened a charming valley,
through which wound and tumbled a sparkling
brook thickly bordered by alders and birches.
At one side were several substantial log cabins,
but as they were evidently uninhabited Cabot
began to undress, declaring that he must have
a bath in that tempting water.

" Better keep your shirt on until we have filled
the cask," advised White, at the same time step-
ping overboard in the shallows at the mouth of
the stream without removing any of his clothing.
They pulled the boat up until it grounded, and
then White began hurriedly to fill the water bar-
rel, while Cabot waded a short distance up

( I

lliii

Mil ' '

ii , .

* • ■; Ji

ffij

158

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR,

stream to see if he could discover any trout. All
at once he stopped, looked bewildered, and then
started back on a run. At the same time he
slapped vigorously at his bare legs, brushed hia
face, waved his arms, and uttered exclamations
of frantic dismay. The air about him had been
suddenly blackened by an incredible swarm of
insects that issued in dense clouds from the low
growth bordering the stream, and attacked the
unfortunate youth with the fury of starvation.

" What's the matter? " inquired White inno-
cently, as his companion rushed past him towards
the open.

" Matter! " retorted the other. " I'm on fire
with the bites of these infernal things, and we
want to get out of here in a hurry or they'll sting
us to death."

" Oh, pshaw! " laughed White, though he also
was suffering greatly. " You've only struck a
few ordinary Labrador mosquitoes and black
flies."

"Mosquitoes and black flies!" cried Cabot.
" Hornets and red-hot coals, you'd better say.
How can you stand them? Your skin must be
thicker than sole leather."

" I can't very well," admitted White, " but
this cask has got to be filled, and the sooner we
do it the quicker we can get away. Break off a
couple of leafy branches to fight with and then

MOSQUITOES OF THE FAR NORTH. 169

keep 'em off both of ua as well as you can. It
will only take a few minutes longer."

In spite of tlieir efforts at self-defence, faces,
hands, and Cabot's bare legs were covered with
blood before their task was completed, and they
were once more in the boat pulling f urioii ly for
the wind-swept water of the open bay.

" I never expected to find mosquitoes this far
north," said Cabot, as the pests began to disap-
pear before the freshening breeze and the rowers
paused for breath.

"Strangers are apt to be unpleasantly surprised
by them," replied White, " but they are here all
the same, and they extend as far north as any
white man has ever been. I have been tolci that
they are as bad in Greenland as here, and I ex-
pect they flourish at the North Pole itself. They
certainly are the curse of Labrador, and until ice
makes in the fall they effectually prevent all
travel into the interior. Even the Indians have
to come to the coast in summer to escape them,
while the whites who visit this country for the
fishing make their settlements on the barest and
most wind-swept places. The few who live here
the year round have summer homes on the coast,
but build their winter houses inland, at the
heads of bays or the mouths of rivers, where
there is timber to afford some protection from
the cold. Those are winter houses back there."

160

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

1 it:

111

" I wondered why they were abandoned," said
Cabot, " but I don't any longer."

" By the way," suggested White, " you forgot
to try the trout fishing. Shall we go back? "

" I wouldn't go fishing on that stream if every
trout in it was of solid gold and I could scoop
them out with my hand?/' asserted Cabot. " In
fact, I don't know of anything short of starva-
tion, or dying of thirst, that would take me back
there."

After supper our lads went ashore at the island
settlement, and were hospitably received by the
dwellers in its half-dozen stoutly built, earthen-
roofed houses. These were constructed of logs,
set on end like palisades, and while they were
scantily furnished, they were warm and comfort-
able. In them Cabot, who was regarded with
great curiosity on account of having come from
the far foreign city of l^ew York, asked many
questions, and acquired much information con-
cerning the strange country to which Fate had
brought him. Thus he learned that Labrador
is a province of Newfoundland, and that while
its prolific fisheries attract some 20,000 people
to its bleak shores every summer, its entire resi-
dent white population hardly exceeds one thou-
sand souls. He was told that from June to
October news of the outside world is received
by steamer from St. Johns every two or three

MOSQUITOES OF THE FAR NORTH. 161

weeks, but that during the other eight months of
the year only three mails reach the country, com-
ing by clog sledge from far-away Quebec.

While (^abot was gathering these and many
other interesting bits of information, White was
becoming confirmed in his belief that to make
a successful trading trip he must carry his goods
far to the northward.

So at daybreak of the following morning the
" Sea Bee " was once more got under way, and
ran up the rock-bound coast past Chateau Bay,
with its superb Castle Hock, to Battle Harbour,
the metropolis of Labrador, which place was
reached late the same evening.

At this point, which is at the eastern end of
the Belle Isle Strait, is a resident population of
some two hundred souls, a hospital, a church, a
schoolhouse, and a prosperous mercantile estab-
lishment. Here our lads found a large steamer
loading with dried fish for Gibraltar, and here
Cabot became greatly interested in the rose-
tinted quartz that forms so striking a feature of
Labrador scenery.

At Battle Harbour they were still advised to

push farther on, and so, bidding farewell to this

outpost of civilisation, the " Sea Bee " again

spread her dusky wings and set forth for the

mission stations of the far North, where it was

hoped a profitable market might be found.
11

■ I:
I 1

?::'lii

CHAPTEE XVII.

IMPRISONED BY AN ICEBERG.

The brief northern summer was nearly ended.
Its days were growing short and chill, its nights
long and cold. The month of October was well
advanced, and flurries of snow heralded the ap-
proach of winter. Most of the Labrador fishing
fleet had already sailed away, and the few boats
still left were preparing for a speedy departure.
The last steamer of the season had come and
gone, and the few permanent residents of the
country were moving back from the coast into
winter quarters. Great flocks of geese streamed
southward, and with harsh cries gave warning
of the icy terrors that had driven them from their
Arctic nesting places. Night after night the
wonderful beauties of the aurora borealis were
flashed across the northern heavens with ever in-
creasing brilliancy. Every one predicted a hard
winter, and everything pointed to its early
coming.

Nearly two months had elapsed since the little
schooner " Sea Bee," manned by a couple of

IMPRISONED BY AN ICEBERG. 16S

plucky lads, sailed out of Battle Harbour on a
trading venture to the northern missions, and
from that day no tidings had been received con-
cerning her. The few who remembered her, oc-
casionally speculated as to what success she had
met and why she had not put in an appearance
on her return voyage, but generally dismissed
the subject by saying that she iriust have been
in too great a hurry to get south, as any one hav-
ing a chance to leave that forsaken country natu-
rally would be. But the " Sea Bee " had not
gone to the southward, nor was there any likeli-
hood of her doing so for many long months to
come.

On one of the mildest of these October days,
when the sunshine still held a trace of its summer
warmth, a solitary figure stood on the crest of a
bald headland, some hundreds of miles to the
north of Battle Harbour, gazing wistfully out
over the lead-<'«;f:oured waters that came leaping
and snarling towards the red rocks far beneath
him. He had on great sea boots that stood sadly
in need of mending, and was clad in heavy wool-
lens, faded and worn, that showed many a rent
and patch. As he leaned on the stout staff that
had assisted him in climbing, his figure seemed
bent as though by age, but when hv lifted his
face, tanned brown by long exposure, the downy
moustache on his upper lip proclaimed his youth.

164

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

I 1

. i

;il

w ,

■r-

\ i

; ;

■

1 •-■'-.

lit

If ■•■Ft

Altogether the change in his appearance was so
great that his most intimate friend would hjttdly
have recognised in him the youth who had been
called the best dressed man in the T. I. class of
'99 a few months earlier. But the voice with
which he finally broke the silence of his long
reverie was unmistakably that of Cabot Grant.

" Heigh ho ! " he sighed, as he cast a sweeping
glance over the widespread waste of waters on
which nothing floated save a few belated ice-
bergs, and then inland over weary miles of deso-
late upland barrens, treeless, moss-covered, and
painfully rugged. " It is tough luck to be shut
up here like birds in a cage, with no chance of the
door being opened before next summer. It is
tougher on Baldwin, though, than on me, and if
he can stand it I guess I can. But I suppose I
might as well be getting back or he will be
worrying about me."

Thus saying, Cabot picked up a canvas bag
that lay at his feet and moved slowly away.

A very serious misfortune had befallen our
lads, and for more than a month the " Sea Bee,"
though still afloat and as sound as ever, had been
unable to move from the position she now occu-
pied. After leaving Battle Harbour her voyage
to the northward had not been more than ordi-
narily eventful, though subject to many and irri-
tating delays. Not only had there been adverse

:kiil

A SOI^ITAKY FIGUKK STOOD OX THK CKKST Ol' A liAI.D HEADLAND.

i >

■ f

> f

M '

IMPRISONED BY AN ICEBERG. 167

winds, but she had twice been stormbound for
days in harbours to which she had run for shelter.
Then, too. White had insisted on stopping at
every settlement that promised a chance for trad-
ing, and had even run fifty miles up Hamilton
Inlet with the hope of finding customers for his
goods at the half-breed village of Rigoulette. But
he had always been disappointed. Either his
goods were not in demand, or those who desired
them had nothing to offer in exchange but fish,
which he did not care to take. And always he
was told of a scarcity of food still farther north.
So the voyage had been continued in that direc-
tion along a coast that ever grew wilder, grander,
and more inhospitable.

In the meantim*^ Cabot was delighted at the
opportunities thus given him for getting ac-
quainted with the country, and made short ex-
ploring trips from every port at which they
touched. From some of these he came back
sadly bitten by the insect pests of the interior,
and from others he brought quantities of blue-
berries, pigeon berries that looked and tasted
like wild cranberries, or yellow, raspberry-like
" bake apples," resembling the salmon berries of
Alaska. Also he picked up numerous rock and
mineral specimens that he afterwards carefully
labelled.

Finally, when they had passed the last fishing

. !

: I r

I , % (

% :\

•' 1

168

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

station of which they had any knowledge, and
had only the missions to look forward to, they
were overtaken, while far out at sea, by a furious
gale that sorely buffeted them for twenty-four
hours, and, in spite of their strenuous efforts,
drove them towards the coast. The gale was
accompanied by stinging sleet and blinding
snow squalls, and at length blew with such vio-
lence that they could no longer show the smallest
patch of canvas.

In this emergency White constructed a sea
anchor, by means of which he hoped to prolong
their struggle for at least a few hours. It was
hardly got overbotird, however, before a giant
surge snapped its cable and hurled the little
craft helplessly towards the crash and smother
with which the furious seas warred against an
iron coast.

In addition to the other perils surrounding our
lads, the gloom of impending night was upon
them, and they could only dimly distinguish the
towering cliffs against which they expected
shortly to be dashed. Both of them stood by the
tiller, grimly silent, and using the last of their
strength to keep their craft head on, for in the
trough of that awful sea she would have rolled
over like a log. ^'either of them flinched nor
showed a sign of fear, though both fully realised
the fate awaiting them.

IMPRISONED BY AN ICEBERG. 169

ige, and
to, they
a, furious
nty-four
} efforts,
yale was
blinding
juch vio-
smallest

ed a sea
> prolong
It was
! a giant
;lie little
smother
gainst an

iding our
vas upon
guish the
expected
od by the
: of their
or in the
,ve rolled
Lched nor
Y realised

At last, with the send of a giant billow, the
little schooner was flung bodily into the roaring
whiteness, and, with hearts that seemed already
to have ceased their beating, the poor lads braced
themselves for the final shock. To their un-
bounded amazement the " Sea Bee," instead of
dashing against the cliffs, appeared to pass di-
rectly into them as though they were but shad-
ows of a solid substance, and in another minute
had shot, like an arrow from a bow, through a
rift barely wide enough to afford her passage.

As her stupefied crew slowly realised that a
reprieve from death had been granted at the last
moment, they al'^o became aware that they were
in a place of absolute darkness, and, save for the
muffled outside roar of furious seas, of absolute
quiet. At the same time they were so exhausted
after their recent prolonged struggle that they
found barely strength to get overboard an
anchor. Then, carelesij of everything else, they
tumbled into their bunks for the rest and sleep
they so sadly needed.

When they next awoke it wfi ^ broad daylight,
and their first move was to hasten on deck for
a view of their surroundings. Their craft lay
as motionless as a painted ship, in the middle of
a placid pool black as a highland tarn. In no
place was it more than a pistol sho^ in width,
and it was enclosed by precipitous cliffs that tow-

' r ' T "

■ai

■ J h

if I

/ill
-■[

Net' '

I I
I I

I ;

170

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

ered hundreds of feet above her. The schooner
could not have been more happily located by one
possessed of an absolute knowledge of the coast
under the most favourable conditions, and that
she should have come there as she had was noth-
ing short of a miracle.

Filled with thankfulness for their marvellous
escape the lads gazed about them curious to dis-
cover by v/hat means they had gained this haven
of refuge. On three sides they could see only
the grim fronts of inaccessible cliffs. On the
fourth was a strip of beach and a cleft through
which poured a plume-like waterfall white as a
wreath of driven snow.

"Did we come in that way?" asked Cabot,
pointing to this torrent of silver spray.

" I suppose we must have," rejoined White
soberly; " for I can't see any other opening, and
it certainly felt last night as though we were
sailing over the brink of a dozen waterfalls. But
let's get breakfast, for I'm as hungry as a wolf.
Then there'll be time enough to find out how
we got in here, as well as how we are to get out
again."

After a hearty meal they got the dinghy over-
board and started on a tour of exploration. First
they visited the beach and found a rude path-
way leading up beside the waterfall that pro-
mised exit from the basin to an active climber.

schooner
)d by one
the coast
and that
svas noth-

arvellous
us to dis-
tils haven
see only
On the
: through
ihite as a

id Cabot,

)d White
ning, and

we were
alls. But
IS a wolf.

out how
:o get out

ghy over-
on. First
iide path-
that pro-
limber.

IMPRISONED BY AN ICEBEBQ, 171

" In spite of all the wonderful happenings of
last night I don't believe we came in that way,"
said Cabot. ">

"No," laughed White, "the old 'Bee's'
wings aren't quite strong enough for that yet,
though there's no saying what she may do with
practice."

Satisfied that there was no outlet for a sailing
craft in this direction, they pulled towards the
opposite side of the basin, but not until they were
within a few rods of its cliffs did they discover an
opening which was so black with shadow that it
had heretofore escaped their notice.

" Here it is," cried Cabot, " though "

His speech was cut suddenly short, and for a
moment he stared in silent amazement. The
farther end of the passage was completely filled
by what appeared a gigantic mass of white
rock.

" An iceberg! " exclaimed the young skipper,
who was the first to recognise the true nature of
the obstacle. "An iceberg driven in by the
gale and jammed. Kow we are in a fix."

"I should say as much," responded Cabot,
" for there isn't space enough to let a rowboat
out, much less a schooner, '^o wonder this
water is as still as that in a corked bottle. What
shall we do now? "

"Wait until it melts, I suppose," replied

7"^(?

-1

mmm

n4 :* ^

I!'.. I

w ? ■

■<■ :

I ,
ll'

^l(

172

TINDER THE GREAT BEAR.

White gloomily, " or until the outside seas batter
it away." ^

So our lads had waited unhappily and impa-
tiently for more than a month, and still the ice
barrier was as immovable as ever. Also, as the
weather was growing steadily cooler, its melting
became less and less with each succeeding day.

During this period of enforced imprisonment
they had made several exploring trips into the
interior, but had failed to find trace of human
life; nor were they able to go far either north
or south on account of impassable waterways.
I^either could they discover any timber from
which to obtain firewood, and as the supply on
the schooner was nearly exhausted their outlook
for the future grew daily more and more gloomy.

For a while they had hoped to signal some
passing vessel, and one or the other of them made
daily trips to the most prominent headland of the
vicinity, where he kept a i^jokout for hours. But
this also proved fruitless, for but two vessels had
been sighted, and neither of these paid any atten-
tion to their signals.

Thus the open season passed, and with the
near approach of an Arctic winter the situation
of our imprisoned lads grew so desperate that
they were filled with the gloomiest forebodings.

,8 batter

d impa-
the ice
►, as the
melting
ng day.
jonment
into the
human
3r north
terways.
er from
ipply on
outlook
gloomy,
lal some
)m made
id of the
irs. But
3sels had
ly atten-

«dth the
situation
•ate that
sbodings.

CHAPTEK XVIII.

FIRST ENCOUNTER WITH THE NATIVES.

Only once during their tedious imprisonment
had our lads received evidence that human
beings existed in that desolate country, and after
they gained this information they hardly knew
whether to rejoice or to regret that it had come
to them. One morning, some weeks after their
arrival in the basin, to which they had given the
name of "Locked Harbour," Cabot, going on
deck for a breath of air, made a discovery so
startling that, for a moment, he could hardly
credit the evidence of his eyes. Then he shouted
to White:

" Come up here quick, old man, and take in
the sight."

As the latter, who had been lighting a fire in
the galley stove, obeyed this call, Cabot pointed
to the beach, on which stood a row of human
figures, gazing at the schooner as stolidly as so
many graven images.

"Indians!" cried White, "and perhaps we

^y^

\>.t^

A^4 \^

IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)

1.0 !!:■- I

I.I

1.25

B25

1^ 1^

2.2

2.0

liS-

U ill 1.6

7X^ A

<S>1

5>«

Photographic

Sciences

Coiporation

23 WIST MAIN STk^ET

WEBSTER, NY. 14580

(716) 872-4503

l/j

174

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

■!■: f

can get them to show us the way to the nearest
mission."

" Good enough I " rejoined Cabot in high ex-
citement. " Let's go ashore and interview them
before they have a chance to disappear as mys-
teriously as they have appeared. Where do you
suppose they came from? " ^

" Can't imagine, and doubt if they'll ever tell.
Probably they are wondering the same thing
about us. I suppose, though, they are on their
way towards the interior for the winter. But
hold on a minute. We must take them some
sort of a present. Grub is what they'll be most
likely to appreciate, for the natives of this coun-
try are always hungry."

Acting upon his own suggestion, White dived
below, to reappear a minute later with a bag of
biscuit and a generous piece of salt pork, which
he tossed into the dinghy. Then the excited
lads pulled for the beach on which the strangers
still waited in motionless expectation.

" Only a woman, a baby, and three children,"
remarked White, in a tone of disappointment, as
they approached near enough to scrutinise the
group. " Still, I suppose they can guide us out
of here as well as any one else if they only will."

The strangers were as White had discovered —
a woman and children, but one of these latter
was a half-grown boy of such villainous appear-

FIRST ENCOUNTER WITH NATIVES. 175

e nearest

high ex-
iew them
r as mys-
*e do you

ever tell.
Qe thing

on their
sr. But
3m some

be most
bis coun-

ite dived
a bag of
k, which
excited
trangers

dldren,"
ment, as
nise the
e us out
ly will."
vered —
le latter
appear-

ance that Cabot promptly named him "Arsenic,"
because his looks were enough to poison any-
thing. They were clad in rags, and were so
miserably thin that they had evidently been on
short rations for a long time. White's belief
that they were hungry was borne out by the
ravenous manner with which they fell upon the
provisions he presented to them.

Arsenic seized the piece of pork and whipping
out a knife cut it into strips, which he, his
mother, and his sisters devoured raw, as though
it were a delicacy to which they had long been
strangers. The hard biscuit also made a magical
disappearance, and when all were gone. Arsenic,
looking up with a hideous grin, uttered the single
word: "More."

" Good I " cried Cabot, " he can talk English.
Now look here, young man, if we give you more
— all you can carry, in fact, of pork, bread,
flour, tea, and sugar, will you show us the road to
the nearest mission — ^Kamah, Nain, or Hope-
dale?"

" Teaj shug," replied the boy, with an expec-
tant grin.

" Yes, tea, sugar, and a lot of other things if
you'll show us the way to Nain. You under-
stand? "

" Tea, shug," repeated the young Indian,
again grinning.

176

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

"We wantee git topside Nain. You sabe,
Nain? " asked Cabot, pointing to his companion
and himself, and then waving his hand compre-
hensively at the inland landscape.

" Tea, shug, more," answered the young sav-
age, promptly, while his relatives regarded him
admiringly as one who had mastered the art of
conversing with foreigners.

"Perhaps he understands English better, or
rather more, than he speaks it," suggested White.

" It is to be hoped that he does," replied Cabot.
"Even then he might not comprehend more
than one word in a thousand. But I tell you
what. Let's go and get our own breakfast, pack
up what stuff we intend to carry, make the
schooner as snug as possible, and come back to
the beach. Here we'll show these beggars what
stuff we've brought, and give them to understand
that it shall all be theirs when they get us to
Nain. Then we'll start them up the trail, and
follow wherever they lead. They are bound to
fetch up somewhere. Even if they don't take
us where we want to go, we will have provisions
enough to last us a week or more, and can surely
find our way back."

" I hate to leave them, for they might skip out
while we were gone," objected White.

" That's so. Well then, why not invite them
on board? They'll be safe there until we are

ill

u sabe,
ipanion
Bompre-

mg sav-
ledhim
e art of

stter, or
I White,
i Cabot,
d more
tell you
Lst, pack
ake the
back to
ir3 what
lerstand
et us to
•ail, and
(ound to
n't take
•ovisions
n surely

skip out

ite them
we are

FIRST ENCOUNTER WITH NATIVES. 177

ready to go. Say, Arsenic, you all come with
we all to shipee, sabe? Get tea, sugar, plenty,
eat heap, you understand? "

As Cabot said this he made motions for all the
natives to enter the dinghy, and then pointed to
the schooner.

It was evident that he was understood, and
equally so that the woman declined his propo-
sition, for she sat motionless, holding her baby,
and with the younger children close by her side.
The boy, however, expressed his willingness to
visit the schooner by entering the dinghy and
seating himself in its stern.

"That will do," said White. "The others
won't run away without him, and he is the only
one we want anyhow."

So the boat was rowed out to the anchored
schooner, while those left on the beach watched
the departure of their son and brother with the
same apathy that they had shown towards all the
other happenings of that eventful morning.

" Look at the young scarecrow, taking things
as coolly as though he had always been used to
having white men row him about a harbour,"
laughed Cabot, " and yet I don't suppose he was
ever in a regular boat before."

"No," agreed White, "I don't suppose he

ever was."

They did not allow Arsenic to enter the " Sea
13

I '

i M

178

UNDEB THE GREAT BEAK

;l r ii

r': '

jf; ■(

H \

Bee's " cabin, but made him stay on deck, where,
however, he appeared perfectly contented and at
his ease. Here Cabot brought the various sup-
plies for their proposed journey and put them up
in neat packages while White prepared break
fast. The former had supposed that their guest
would be greatly interested in what he was
doing, but the young savage manifested the ut-
most indifference to all that took place. In fact
he seemed to pay no attention to Cabot's move-
ments, but squatted on the deck, and gazed in
silent meditation at the beach, where his mother
and sisters could be seen also seated in motion-
less expectation.

"I believe he is a perfect idiot," muttered
Cabot, " and wonder that he knows enough to eat
when he's hungry." , ,

Then White called him, and he went below to
breakfast.

" Do you think it is safe to leave that chap
alone on deck with all those things? " asked the
former. '

" Take a look at him and see for yourself," re-
plied Cabot.

So White crept noiselessly up the companion
ladder and peeped cautiously out. Arsenic still
squatted where Cabot had left him, gazing idioti-
cally off into space. At the same time a close
observer might have imagined that his beady

FIRST ENCOUNTER WITH NATIVES. 179

eyes twinkled with a gleam of interest as Whitens
head appeared above the companion coaming.

" I guess it is all right," said White, rejoining
his friend.

" Of course it is. He couldn't swim ashore
with the things, and there isn't any other way he
could make off with them, except by taking them
in the dinghy, and that chump couldn't any
more manage a boat than a cow."

In spite of this assertion Cabot finished his
meal with all speed, and then hurried on deck,
where he uttered a cry of dismay. A single
glance showed him that their guest, together
with all the supplies prepared for their journey,
was no longer where he had left him. A second
glance disclosed the dinghy half way to the
beach, while in her stern, sculling her swiftly
along with practised hand, stood the wooden-
headed young savage who didn't know how to
manage a boat.

" Come back here, you sneak thief, or I'll fill
you full of lead," yelled Cabot, and as the In-
dian paid not the slightest attention he drew his
revolver and fired. He never knew where the
bullet struck, but it certainly did not reach the
mark he intended, for Arsenic merely increased
the speed of his boat without even looking back.

So angry that he hardly realised what he was
doing, Cabot cocked his pistol and attempted to

180

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

iV,v

.; '*

tSl

1 i

1 1

^VS

■ ^

'»'

■'

i;^

fire again, but the lock only snapped hannlessly,
and there was no report. Then he remembered
that he had expended several shots the day be-
fore in a fruitless effort to attract attention on
board a distant vessel seen from the lookout, and
had neglected to reload.

As he started for the cabin in quest of more
cartridges he came into collision with White
hurrying on deck.

" "What is the matter? " inquired the latter, as
soon as he regained the breath thus knocked out
of him.

" Oh, nothing at all," replied Cabot, with iron-
ical calmness, " only we've been played for a
couple of hayseeds by a wooden-faced young
heathen who don't know enough to go in when
it rains. In his childish folly he has gone off
with the dinghy, taking our provisions along as
a souvenir of his visit, and he didn't even have
the politeness to look round when I spoke to him.
Oh ! but it will be a chilly day for little Willy if
I catch him again."

" I am glad yoa only spoke," remarked White.
"When I heard you shoot I didn't know but what
you had murdered him."

"Wish I had," growled Cabot, savagely.
"Look at him now, and consider the cheek of
the plain, every-day North American savage."

It was aggravating to see the young thief gain

FIRST ENCOUNTER WITH NATIVES. 181

the beach and lift from the boat the provisions
he had so deftly acquired. It was even more
annoying to see the embryo warrior's grateful
family pounce upon the prizes of his bow and
spear, and to be forced to listen to the joyous
cries with which they greeted their returned
hero. Filled now with a bustling activity, the
Indians quickly divided the spoil according to
their strength ; and then, without one backward
glance, or a single look towards the schooner,
they started up the narrow trail by the water-
fall, with the triumphant Arsenic heading the
procession, and in another minute had dis-
appeared.

As the last fluttering rag vanished from sight,
our lads, who had watched the latter part of this
performance in silent wrath, turned to each other
and burst out laughing.

" It was a dirty, mean, low-down trick! " cried
Cabot. " At the same time he played it with a
dexterity that compels my admiration. Now,
what shall we do? "

" I suppose one of us will have to swim ashore
and get that boat."

"What, through ice water? You are right,
though, and as I am the biggest chump, I'll go."

Cabot was as good as his word, and did swim
to the beach, though, as he afterwards said, he
did not know whether his first plunge was made

m ^

/ 1 ■

ii.

182

UNDEP. THE GREAT BEAR.

into ice water or molten lead. Then ho and
White followed the trail of their recent guests
to the crest of the bluffs, but could not discover
what direction they had taken from that point.
So they returned to the schooner sadder but
wiser than before, and wondered whether they
were better or worse off on account of the recent
visitation.

" If they carry news of us to one of the mis-
sions we will be better off," argued Cabot.

" But, if they don't, we are worse off, by at
least the value of our stolen provisions," replied
White.

" 1/

ho and
: guests
liscover
t point,
ler but
er they
) recent

he mis-

, by at
replied

{ ■

CHAPTER XIX.

• A MELANCHOLY SITUATION.

In Labrador, under ordinary circumstances,
the loss of such a quantity of provisions as Ar-
senic had carried away would have been a very
serious misfortune. But food was the one thing
our lads had in abundance, and they were more
unhappy at having lost a guide, who might have
shown them a way out of their prison, than over
the theft he had so successfully accomplished.

" The next time we catch an Indian we'll tie
a string to him,'' said Cabot.

" Yes," agreed White, " and it will be a stout
one, too; but I am afraid there won't be any more
Indians on the coast this season."

"How about Eskimo?"

" Some of them may come along later, when
the snowshoeing and sledging get good enough,
for they are apt to travel pretty far south during
the winter. Still, there's no knowing how far
back from the coast their line of travel may lie
at this point, and dozens of them might pass with-
out our knowledge."

184

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

C' **

" Couldn't we go up or down the coast as well
as an Eskimo, whenever these miserable water-
ways freeze over? " asked Cabot.

" Of course, if we had sledges, dogs, snow-
shoes, and fur clothing,'' replied White; "but
without all these things we might just as well
commit suicide before starting." ^'

" "Well, I'll tell you what we can do right off,
and the sooner we set about it the better. "We
can go inland as far as possible, and leave a line
of flags or some sort of signals that will attract
attention to this place."

" I don't knov/ but what that is a good idea,"
remarked White, thoughtfully. " At any rate,
it would be better than doing nothing, and if we
don't get help in some way we shall certainly
freeze to death in this place long before the
winter is over."

So Cabot's suggestion was adopted, and the
remainder of that day was spent in preparing
little flags of red and white cloth, attaching them
to slender sticks, and in making a number of
wooden arrows. On a smooth side of these they
wrote:

" Help! We are stranded on the coast."

" I wish we could write it in Eskimo and In-
dian," said Cabot, " for English doesn't seem to
be the popular language of this country."

" The flags and arrows will be a plain enough

A MELANCHOLY SITUATION. 185

language for any natives who may run across
them," responded White, " and I only hope
they'll see them; but it is a slim chance, and we'll
probably be frozen stiff long before any one
finds us."

" Oh, I don't know," said Cabot, cheerfully.
" There's firewood enough in the schooner itself
to last quite a while."

" Burn the ' Sea Bee '! " cried White, aghast
at the suggestion. " I couldn't do it."

" Neither could I at present; but I expect ^ oth
of U3 coul^ ""d would, long before our blood
reach'^'^ the freezing point."

" But if we destroyed the schooner, how would
we get out of here next summer? "

•" I'm sure I don't know, and don't care to try
and think yet a while. Just now I am much
more interested in the nearby winter than in a
very distant summer."

The next day, and for a number of days there-
after, our lads worked at the establishment of
their signal line. They erected stone cairns at
such distances apart that every one was visible
from those on either side, and on the summit of
each they planted a flag with its accompanying
pointer. In this way they ran an unbroken
range of signals for ten miles, and would have
carried it further had they dared expend any
more of their precious firewood.

^VMBlBPnP

186

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

%A^:

■|'f ' '

l!i

While they were engaged upon this task the
weather became noticeably colder, the mercury
falling below the freezing point each night, and
the whole country was wrapped in the first folds
of the snow blanket under which it would sleep
for months. About the time their signal line
was completed, however, there came a milder
day, so suggestive of the vanished summer that
Cabot declared his intention of spending an hour
or so at the lookout. " There might be such a
thing as a belated vessel," he argued, " and I
might have the luck to signal it. Anyhow, I am
going to make one more try before agreeing to
settle down here for the winter."

As White was busy moving the galley stove
into the cabin, and making other preparations
for their coming struggle against Arctic cold,
Cabot rowed himself ashore and left the dinghy
on the beach. Then he climbed to the summit
of the lofty headland, where, for a long time, he
leaned thoughtfully on the rude Alpine-stock
that had aided his steps, and gazed out over the
vacant ocean.

While Cabot thus watched for ships that failed
to come. White was putting the finishing touches
to his new cabin fixtures. He was just begin-
ning to wonder if it were not time for his com-
rade's return when he felt the slight jar of some
floating object striking against the side of the

"S'i^:

A MELANCHOLY SITUATION. 187

schooner. Thinking that Cabot had arrived, he
shouted a cheery greeting, but turned to survey
the general effect of what he had done before
going on deck. The next minute some one softly
entered the cabin and sprang upon the unsuspect-
ing youth, overpowering him and flinging him
to the floor before he had a chance to offer re-
sistance. Here he was securely bound and left
to make what he could of the situation, while his
captors swarmed through the schooner with ex-
clamations of delight at the richness of their
prize.

As White slowly recovered from the bewilder-
ment of his situation he saw that his assailants
were Indians, and even recognised in one of
them the hideous features of the lad whom. Cabot
had named Arsenic.

" What fools we have been," he thought, bit-
terly. " We might have known that he would
come back with the first band of his friends that
he ran across. And to make sure that they
would find us we filled the country with sign
posts all pointing this way. Seems to me that
was about as idiotic a thing as we could have
done, and if ever a misfortune was deserved this
one is. I wonder what has become of Cabot, and
if they have caught him yet. I only hope he
won't try to fight 'em, for they'd just as soon kill
him as not. Probably they'll kill us both.

188

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

though, so that no witnesses can ever appear
against them. Poor chap! It was a sad day
for him when he attempted to help a fellow as
unlucky as I am out of his troubles. IS^ow I
wonder what's up."

A shrill cry of triumph had come from the
shore, and the savages on the schooner's deck
were replying to it with exultant yells.

The cry from shore announced the capture of
Cabot by two Indians who had been left behind
for that express purpose. Of course the new-
comers had known as soon as they disco veered the
dinghy that at least one of the schooner's de-
fenders was on shore, and had made their ar-
rangements accordingly. As we have seen, the
naval contingent experienced no difficulty in
capturing the schooner, and a little later the land
forces carried out their part of the programme
with equal facility. They merely hid them-
selves behind some boulders, and leaping out
upon the young American, as he came unsuspect-
ingly swinging down the trail, overpowered him
before he could make a struggle. Tying him
beyond a possibility of escape, they carried him
down to the beach, where they uttered the cries
that informed their comrades of their triumph.

Until this time the schooner had been left at
her anchorage, for fear lest any change in her
position might arouse Cabot's suspicions. Now

A MELANCHOLY SITUATION. 189

that they were free to do as they pleased with
her the Indians cut her cable, and, after much
awkward effort, succeeded in towing her to the
beach, where they made her fast.

As the darkness and cold of night were now
upon them, and as they had no longer any use
for the dinghy, they smashed it in pieces and
started a fire with its shattered timbers. At the
same time they broke out several barrels of pro-
visions, and the entire band, gathering about the
fire, began to feast upon their contents.

In the meantime Cabot and White, in their
respective places of captivity, were equally
miserable through their ignorance of what had
happened to each other, and of the fate awaiting
them. Of course Cabot had seen the schooner
brought to the beach, while White, still lying on
her cabin floor, was able to guess at her position
from such sounds as came to his ears.

During that eventful afternoon, while the
savages were still preparing the plan that had re-
sulted in such complete success, a white man, set-
ting a line of traps for fur-bearing animals, had
run across the outermost of the signals estab-
lished by our lads a few days earlier. Its flutter-
ing pennon had attracted his attention while he
was still at a distance, and, filled with curiosity,
he had gone to it for a closer examination. On
reaching the signal he read the pencilled writ-

190

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

W"' '

l!;'

|i; :

•

ing on its arrow, and then stood irresolute, evi-
dently much perturbed, for several minutes. Fi-
nally, heaving a great sigh, he set forth in the
direction indicated by the arrow.

He was a gigantic man, and presented a
strange spectacle as he strode swiftly across the
country with the long, sliding gait of a practised
snowshoer. Although his wide-set blue eyes
were frank and gentle in expression, a heavy
mass of blonde hair, streaming over his shoul-
ders like a mane, and a shaggy beard, gave him
an air of lion-like ferocity. This wildness of
aspect, as well as his huge proportions, were both
increased by his garments, which were entirely
of wolf skins. Even his cap was of this material,
ornamented by a wolf's tail that streamed out
behind and adorned in front with a pair of wolf
ears pricked sharply forward. He carried a rifle
and bore on his shoulders, as though it were a
feather weight, a pack of such size than an or-
dinarily strong man would have found difficulty
in lifting it.

As this remarkable stranger, looking more like
a Norse war god than a mere human being,
reached one signal after another, he passed it
without pausing for examination until he had
gained a point about half way to the coast. Then
he came to an abrupt halt and studied the sur-
rounding snow intently. He had run across the

A MELANCHOLY SITUATION,

191

trail made ^v Arsenic and his fellows a few hours
earlier. After an examination of the sprawling
footprints, the big man uttered a peculiar snort
of satisfaction, and again pushed on with in-
creased speed. An hour later he stood, con-
cealed by darkness, on the verge of the cliffs en-
closing Locked Harbour, gazing interestedly
down on the fire-lit beach, the half-revealed
schooner, the feasting savages, and the recum-
bent, dimly discerned figure of Cabot Grant,
their prisoner.

-,V\JiL.:;:^-L'jL.*iAi!t^-Ls^;ii'j'^"i:"t^-;u:^i^-i.-

it '.

CHAPTER XX.

COMING OF THE MAN-WOLF.

Once Arsenic went to where Cabot was lying,
and, grinning cheerfully, remarked: " Tea, shug.
Plenty, yes." Then he laughed immoderately,
as did several other Indians who were listening
admiringly to this flight of eloquence in the
white man*s own tongue.

" Oh, clear out, you grinning baboon,"
growled Cabot. " I only hope I'll live to get
even with you for this day's work."

The Indians were evidently so pleased at hav-
ing drawn a retort from their prisoner that he
declined to gratify them further, or to speak an-
other word, though iiyr some time Arsenic con-
tinued to beguile hiin with his tiresome " Tea,
shug," etc. When the latter finally gave it up
and started away to get his share of the feast,
Cabot's gaze followed him closely.

All this time our lad was filled with vague ter-
rors concerning White, of whose fate he had not
received the slightest intimation, as well as of
what might be in store for himself. Would he

COMING OF THE MAN- WOLF. 193

be carried to the distant interior to become a
slave in some filthy Indian village, or would he
be killed before they took their departure? Per-
haps they would simply leave him there to freeze
and starve to death, or they might amuse them-
selves by burning him at the stake. Did these
far northern Indians still do such things? He
wondered, but could not remember ever to have
heard.

While considering these unpleasant possibili-
ties, Cabot was also suffering with cold, from the
pain of his bonds, and from lying motionless on
the bed of rocks to which he had been carelessly
flung. But, with all his pain and his mental dis-
tress, he still glared at the young savage who had
so basely betrayed his kindness, and at length
Arsenic seemed to be uneasily aware of the
steady gaze. He changed his position several
times, and his noisy hilarity was gradually suc-
ceeded by a sullen silence. Suddenly he lifted
his head and listened apprehensively. His quick
ear had caught an ominous note in the distant,
long-drawn howl of a wolf. He spoke of it to
his comrades, and several of them joined him in
listening. It came again, a blood-curdling yell,
now so distinct that all heard it. They stopped
their feasting to consult in low tones and peer
fearfully into the surrounding blackness.

Cabot had also recognised the sound, but, un-
13

•ll

194

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

canny as it was, lie wondered why the howl of
a wolf should disturb a lot of Indians who must
know, even better than he, the cowardly nature
of the beast, and that there was no chance of his
coming near a fire.

Even as these thoughts passed through his
mind, the terrible cry was uttered again — this
time so close at hand that it was taken up and
repeated by a chorus of echoes from the nearby
cliffs. The Indians sprang to their feet in ter-
ror, while at the same moment an avalanche of
stones, gravel, and small boulders rushed down
the face of the cliff close to where Cabot lay.
From it was evolved a monstrous shape that, with
unearthly bowlings, leaped towards the fright-
ened natives. As it did so flashes of lightning,
that seemed to dart from it, gleamed with a daz-
zling radiance on their distorted faces. In an-
other moment they were in full flight up the
rugged pathway leading from the basin, hotly
pursued by their mysterious enemy.

The latter seemed to pass directly through the
fire, scatteiing its blazing brands to all sides. At
the same time he snatched up a flaming timber
for use as a weapon against such of the panic-
stricken savages as still remained within reach.

The flashes of light that accompanied the ap-
parition, while illuminating all nearby objects,
had left it shrouded in darkness, and only when

COMING OF THE MAN-WOLF. 195

it crouched for an instant above the fire did
Cabot gain a clear glimpse of the gigantic form.
To his dismay it appeared to be a great beast with
a human resemblance. It had the gleaming
teeth, the horrid jaws, the sharp ears, in fact the
face and head of a wolf, the tawny mane of a
lion, and was covered with thick fur; but it stood
erect and used its arms like a man. At the same
time, the sounds issuing from its throat seemed
a combination of incoherent human cries and
wolfish bowlings. Cabot only saw it for a mo-
ment, and then it was gone, leaping up the path-
way, whirling the blazing timber abo^^e its head,
and darting its mysterious lightning flashes after
the flying Indians.

As the clamour of flight and pursuit died
away, to be followed by a profound silence, there
came a muffled call:

" Cabot. Cabot Grant."

"Hello!" shouted our lad. "Who is it?
Where are you? "

" It is I, White," came the barely heard an-
swer. " I am here in the cabin. Can't you come
and let me out? "

" No," replied Cabot. " I am tied hand and
foot."

" So am I. Are you wounded ? "

"No. Are you?"

" No. What are the Indians doing? "

1 i

i9e

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

" Kunning for dear life from a Labrador devil
— ^half wolf and half man — armed with soundless
thunder^bolts."

During the short silence that followed, White
meditated upon this extraordinary statement,
and decided that his comrade's brain must be af-
fected by his sufferings.

" If I could only twist out of these ropes," he
groaned, and then he began again a struggle to
free his hands from their bonds. At the same
time Cabot, who had long since discovered the
futility of such effort, was anxiously listening,
and wondering what would happen next.

With all his listening he did not hear the soft
approach of furred footsteps, and when a blind-
ing light was flashed full in his face he was so
startled that he cried out with terror. Instantly
the light vanished, and he shuddered as he
realised that the furry monster had returned,
and, bending over him, was fumbling at his
bonds. ,

In another moment these were severed, he
was picked up as though he had been an infant,
and carried to the fire, whose scattered embers
were speedily re-assembled. As it blazed up,
Cabot gazed eagerly at the mysterious figure,
which had thus far worked in silence. Curious
as he was to see it, he yet dreaded to look upon
its wolfish features. Therefore, as the fire blazed

COMING OF THE MAN-WOLF. 197

up, he uttered a cry of amazement, for, fully re-
vealed by it8 light, was a man; clad in furs, it is
true, but bare-headed and having a pleasant face
lighted by kindly blue eyes.

"You are really human after all!" gasped
Cabot.

The stranger smiled but said nothing.

" And can understand English? "

A nod of the head was the only answer.

" Then," continued Cabot, hardly noting that
his deliverer had not spoken, " won't you please
go aboard the schooner and find my friend? He
is in the cabin, where those wretches left him,
tied up."

This was the first intimation the stranger had
received that any one besides Cabot needed his
assistance, but without a word he did as re-
quested, swinging himself aboard the " Sea Bee"
by her head chains and her bowsprit, which over-
hung the beach. Directly afterwards a flash of
light streamed from the cabin windows. Then
White Baldwin, assisted by the fur-clad giant,
emerged from his prison, walked stiffly along the
deck, and was helped down to the beach, where
Cabot eagerly awaited him.

After a joyous greeting of his friend the young
American said anxiously: " But are you sure you
are all right, old man — not wounded nor hurt in
any way? "

198

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

■i- <

k '

i
i.

II'

"No; I am sound as a nut," replied White.
" Only a little stiff, that's all."

" Same here," declared Cabot, industriously
rubbing his legs to restore their circulation. " I
was rapidly turning into a human icicle, though,
when our big friend dropped down from the sky
in a chariot of flame and gave those Indian beg-
gars such a scare that I don't suppose they've
stopped running yet. But how did you happen
to let 'em aboard, old man? Couldn't you stand
them off with a gun? "

For answer White gave a full account of all
that had taken place, so far as he knew, and in
return Cabot described his own exciting experi-
ences, while the stranger listened attentively, but
in silence, to both narratives. When Cabot came
to the end of his own story, he said :

" Now, sir, won't you please tell us how you
happened to find us out and come to our rescue
just in the nick of time? I should also very
much like to know how you managed to tumble
down that precipice unharmed, as well as how
you produced those flashes of light that scared
the savages so badly — me too, for that matter."

For answer the stranger only smiled gravely,
pointed to his lips, and shook his head.

" Oh ! " exclaimed both Cabot and White,
shocked by this intimation, and the former said :

" I beg your pardon, sir. While I noticed that

COMING OF THE MAN- WOLF. 199

you didn't do much talking, it never occurred to
me that you were dumb. I am awfully sorry,
and it must be a terrible trial. At the same time,
I am glad you can hear me say how very grateful
we are to you for getting us out of a nr sty fix in
the splendid way you did. Now, I move we ad-
journ to the cabin of the schooner, where we can
make some hot tea and be rather more comfort-
able than out here. That is, if you think those
Indians won't ome back."

The stranger smiled again, and shook his head
so reassuringly that the lads had no longer a
doubt as to the expediency of returning to the
cabin. There they started a fire in the stove,
boiled water, made tea, and prepared a meal, of
which the stranger ate so heartily, and with such
evident appreciation, that it was a pleasure to
watch him.

While supper was being made ready, the big
man removed his outer garments of wolf fur and
stood in a close-fitting suit of tanned buckskin
that clearly revealed the symmetry of his mas-
sive proportions.

"If I were as strong as you look, and, as I
know from experience, you are," exclaimed
Cabot, admiringly, " I don't think I would hesi-
tate to attack a whole tribe of Indians single
handed. My! but it must be fine to be so strong."

After supper Cabot, who generally acted as

200

UNDER THE ORE AT BEAR.

>■"' I

' i \'

spokesman, again addressed himself to their
guest, saying:

" If you don't mind, sir, we'd like to have you
know just what sort of a predicament we've got
into, and ask your advice as to how we can get
out of it." With this preamble Cabot explained
the whole situation, and ended by saying:

" Now you know just how we are fixed, and if
you can guide us to the nearest Mission Station
— or, if you haven't time to go with us, if you
will give us directions how to find it — we shall
be under a greater obligation to you than ever."

For a minute the stranger looked thoughtful
but made no sign. Then, dipping his finger in
a bowl of water, he wrote on the table the single
word: " To-morrow." Having thus dismissed the
subject for the present, he stretched his huge
frame on a transom and almost instantly fell
asleep.

Our tired lads were not long in following his
example, and, though several times during the
night one or the other of them got up to replenish
the fire, they always found their guest quietly
sleeping. But when they both awoke late the
following morning and looked for him he had
disappeared.

•i.j^(

I %

CHAPTER XXI.

A WELCOME MISSIONARY.

Althougf the outer garments of wolf fur be-
longing to the mysterious stranger were also
missing, our lads were not at first at all uneasy
concerning his absence, but imagined that their
guest had merely gone for a breath of fresh air
or to examine the situation of the schooner by
daylight. So they mended the fire and got
breakfast ready, expecting with each moment
that he would return. As he did not, Cabot
finally went on deck to look for him.

The morning was bitterly cold, and the har-
bour was covered with ice sufliciently strong to
bear a man.

" The old ' Bee's ' found her winter berth at
last," reflected Cabot, as he glanced about him,
shivering in the keen air.

To his disappointment he could discover no
trace of the man upon whom they were depend-
ing to aid their escape from this icy prison.
Cabot even dropped to the beach and made his
way to the crest of the inland bluffs, but could

■( • i

•■'

■?

fi|

202

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

see no living thing on all the vast expanse of
snow outspread before him.

" I guess he has gone, all right," muttered the
lad, " and we are again left to our own resources,
only a little worse off than we were before.
Why he came and helped us out at all, though,
is a mystery to me."

With this he retraced his steps and conveyed
the unwelcome news to White.

" It is evident then," said the latter, " that we
must stay here, alive or dead, all winter. And
I expect we'll be a great deal more dead than
alive long before it is over."

" Oh, I don't know," replied Cabot. " This
doesn't seem to be such a very uninhabited place,
after all. I'm sure we've had a regular job lot
of visitors during the past week, and a good many
of them, too. So I don't see why we shouldn't
have other callers before the winter is over.
When the next one comes, though, we'll take
care and not let him out of our sight. Why
didn't you tie a string to one of those Indians, as
I advised? "

" Because they tied me first," answered White,
laughing in spite of his anxiety. " Why didn't
you do it yourself? "

" Because all the tying apparatus was aboard
tlie schooner, and I hadn't so much as a shoe-
string about me. I wish I could have tied that

A WELCOME MISSIONARY.

208

scoundrel Arsenic, though. If ever I meet him
again I'll try to teach him a lesson in gratitude.
But what do you propose to do to-day, skip-
per? "

" I suppose we might as well unbend and stow
our canvas, since the ' Bee ' '11 not want to use
sails again for a while. We might also send
down topmasts, stow away what we can of the
running rigging, get those provisions on the
beach aboard again, and "

" Hold on! " cried Cabot, " you've already laid
out all the work I care to tackle in one day, and
if you want any more done you'll have to ship a
new crew."

It was well that the lads had ample occupation
for that day, otherwise they would have been
very unhappy. Even Cabot, for all his assumed
cheerfulness, realised the many dangers with
which they were beset. He believed that their
unknown friend had deserted them, and that the
Indians might return at any moment in over-
powering numbers. He knew that without out-
side assistance and guidance it would be impos-
sible to traverse the vast frozen wilderness lying
between them and civilisation. He knew also
that if he and White remained where they were
they must surely perish before the winter was
over. So the prospect was far from cheerful,
and that evening the " Sea Bee's " crew, wearied

; • '

if.

.1 [''^
: ^ t' ^

204

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR,

with their hard day's work, ate their supper in
thoughtful silence.

While they were thus engaged both suddenly
sprang to their feet with startled faces. A gun
had been fired from close at hand, and with its
report came a confusion of shouts. Evidently
more visitors had arrived; but were they friends
or foes?

White thought the latter, and snatched up a
loaded revolver, declaring that the Indians
should not again get posession of his schooner
without fighting for it; but Cabot believed the
new-comers to be friends.

" If they were enemies," he argued, " they
would have got aboard and taken us by surprise
before making a sound." So saying he hurried
up the companionway, with White close at his
heels.

" Hello! " shouted Cabot. " Who are you? "

" We are friends," answered a voice from the
beach in English, but with a strong German ac-
cent. " Can you show us a light? "

" Of course we can, and will in a moment,"
replied Cabot joyously. " White, get a "

But White had already darted back into the
cabin for a lantern, with which he speedily
emerged, and led the way to the beach. Here
our lads found a dog sledge with its team, and an
Eskimo driver, who was already collecting wood

A WELCOME MISSIONARY.

205

for a fire, together with a white man, tall,
straight, middle-aged, and wearing a long beard
streaked with grey.

" God be with you and keep you," he said, as
he shook hands with Cabot and White. " Where
is the captain of this schooner? "

Cabot pointed to his companion.

" Where then is the crew? "

At this both lads laughed, and Cabot replied:
" I am the crew."

" You don't mean to tell me that you two boys
navigated that vessel to this place unaided."

"We certainly did, sir, though we have not
done much navigating for more than a month
now. But will you please tell us who you are,
where you came from, and how you happened to
discover us? Though we are not surprised at
being discovered, for we seem to be located on a
highway of travel and have visitors nearly every
day."

" Indeed," replied the stranger; " and yet you
are stranded in one of the least known and most
inaccessible bays of the coast. It is rarely visited
even by natives, and I doubt if any white man
was ever here before your arrival."

" Then how did you happen to come? " asked
Cabot.

"I came by special request to find you and
offer whatever assistance I may render. I am

206

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

(W :

E?!i

«'

!•'

'«

'■>

■'5

111

if!

1 •' III

the Rev. Ostrander Mellins, Director of a Mora-
vian Mission Station located on tlie coast some
twenty-five miles from this point."

" But how did you know of us? " cried Cabot,
in amazement. " We haven't sent any tele-
grams nor even written any letters since coming
here."

" Did not you send a messenger yesterday? "

" No, sir. Most of yesterday we were prison-
ers in the hands of some rascally Indians."

" I perceive," said the missionary, "that I have
much to hear as well as to tell, and, being bc.li
tired ard cold, would suggest that we seek a more
sheltered spot than this, where we may converse
while my man prepares supper."

At these words both our lads were covered
with confusion, and, with profuse apologies for
their lack of hospitality, besought the missionary
to accompany them into the schooner's cabin.

" We should have asked you long ago," de-
clared White, " only we were so overcome with
joy at meeting a white man who could talk to us
that we really didn't know what we were about."

"Won't your man and dogs also come aboard?"
asked Cabot, anxious to show how hospitable they
really were.

" No, thank you," laughed the missionary.
" They will do very well where they are."

In the cabin, which had never seemed more

A WELCOME MISSIONARY.

207

cheerful and comfortable, the lads helped the
new-comer remove his fur garments, plied him
with hot tea, together with everything they could
think of in the way of eatables, and at the same
time told him their story as they had told it to
their other guest of the night before.

" And you did not send me any message? " he
asked, with a quizzical smile.

" I know! " cried Cabot. " It was the man-
wolf. But where did you meet him, and why
didn't he come back with you? How did he
manage to explain the situation? We thought
he couldn't talk."

" I don't know that he can," replied the mis-
sionary, " for I have never heard him speak, nor
do I know any one who has. ]!!^either did I meet
him. In fact I have never seen him, but I think
your messenger must be one and the same with
your man-wolf, since he signed his note ' Homo-
lupus.' "

" His note," repeated Cabot curiously. " Did
he send you a note? "

" Not exactly; but he left one for me at a place
near the station, where he has often left furs to
be exchanged for goods, and called my attention
to it by a signal of rifle shots. When I reached
the place I was not surprised to find him gone,
for he always disappears when it is certain that
his signal has been understood. I was, however,

ii^-

ll!'

■f ii

208

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

greatly surprised to find, instead of the usual
bundle of furs, only a slip of paper supported by
a cleft stick. On it was written :

" ' Schooner laden with provisions stranded in pocket
next South of Nukavik Arm, Crew in distress. Need
immediate assistance. Homolupus.'

" With such a message to urge me, I made in-
stant preparation, and came here with all speed."

" It was awfully good of you," said White.

" Perhaps not quite so good as you may think,
since our annual supply ship having thus far
failed to make her appearance, the mission is very
short of provisions, and the intimation that there
was an abundance within reach relieved me of a
load of anxiety. So if you are disposed to
sell "

'' Excuse me for interrupting," broke in Cabot,
" but, before you get to talking business, please
tell us something more about the man who sent
you to our relief. Who is he ? Where does he
live? What does he look like? Why does he
disappear when you go in answer to his signals?
Why do you call him a wolf -man? What "

" Seems to me that is about as many questions
as I can remember at one time," said the mission-
ary, smiling at Cabot's eagerness, " and I am
sorry that, with my slight knowledge of the sub-
ject, I cannot answer them satisfactorily. The

i'i

A WELCOME MISSIONARY.

209

man-wolf was well known to this country before
T came to it, which was three years ago, and
dwells somewhere to the southward of this place,
though no one, to my knowledge, has ever seen
his habitation. Some of the Eskimo can point
out its location, but they are in such terror of him
that they give it a wide berth whenever travel-
ling in that direction. As I said, I have never
seen him, nor have I ever known of his holding
communication other than by writing with any
human being. The natives describe him as a
man of great size with the head of a wolf.''

" There ! I was sure it wasn't imagination,"
interrupted Cabot excitedly. " When I first saw
him his head and face were those of a wolf, but
the next time they were those of a man, and so
I thought I must have dreamed the wolf part. I
wonder how he manages it, and I wish I knew
how he produces those lightning flashes. If this
were a more civilised part of the world I should
say that they resulted from electricity — but of
course that couldn't be away off here in the wil-
derness. I asked him about them but got no
answer."

" Have you, then, seen and spoken with him? "
asked the missionary.

" Of course we have seen him, for he spent last

night in this very cabin, and we have spoken to

him, though not with him, for he is dumb."
14

Bit

210

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

" I envy you the privilege of having met him,
and am greatly relieved to learn that he is so
wholly human; for the natives regard him as
either a god or a devil, I can't tell which, and
ascribe to him superhuman powers. He has
righted many a wrong, punished many an evil-
doer, saved many a poor soul from starvation, and
performed innumerable deeds of kindness. He
dares everything and seems able to do anything.
He is at once the guardian angel and the terror
of this region, and, on the whole, I doubt if there
is in all the world to-day a more remarkable being
than the man-wolf of Labrador."

V f I

CHAPTER XXII.

GOOD-BYE TO THE " SEA BEE."

White Baldwin was of course interested in
this talk of the man-wolf, but he was, at the same
time, anxious to hear what the new-comer had to
say concerning the cargo of provisions for which
he had so long sought a purchaser. His heart
beat high with the hope of a speedy return to
his home and its loved ones; for he had already
planned to leave the " Sea Bee " where she was
until the following season. In case he could dis-
pose of her cargo, he would insist that transpor-
tation and a guide — at least as far as Indian Har-
bour — should form part of the bargain. From
Indian Harbour they would surely find some way
of continuing the journey. He might even
reach home by Christmas ! Wouldn't it be great
if he couid, and if, at the same time, he could
carry with him enough money to relieve all pres-
ent anxieties? Perhaps he might even be able
to take his mother and Cola to St. Johns for a
long visit. Of course Cabot would accompany
them, for with the warships all gone south for
the winter there would be no danger of arrest,

; ''■:)

212

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

and then he would find out what a splendid city
the capital of Ne\\^oundland really was. Oh I
if they could only start at once; but of course
there were certain preliminaries to be settled
first, and the sooner they got at them the better.

Thus thinking, White took advantage of a
pause in the conversation to remark : " What a
very fortunate thing it is that you who want to
purchase provisions and we who have them for
sale should come together in this remarkable
fashion."

" It is so fortunate and so remarkable that I
must regard it as a distinct leading of the Divine
Providence that knows our everv need and
guides our halting footsteps," replied the mis-
sionary.

" And do you think," continued the young
trader anxiously, " that you want our entire
cargo? "

" I am sure of it ; and even then we may be
put on short rations before the winter is ended,
for there are many to be led."'

With this opening the (v-nversation drifted so
easily into business details that, before the occu-
pants of the cabin turned in for the night, every-
thing had been arranged. White had been
somewhat disappointed when the missionary said
that, having no funds in Sv. Johns, he would be
obliged to give a sight draft on New York in

QOOD-BYE TO THE ''SEA BEE:' 213

payment for the goods. This slight annoyance
was, however, speedily smoothed away by Cabot,
who offered to cash the draft immediately upon
their arrival in St. Johns, where, he said, he had
ample funds for the purpose. It was also agreed
that our lads should be provided with fur cloth-
ing, snowshoes, a dog sledge, and a giiide as far
as Indian Harbour. In addition to taking the
cargo of the " Sea Bee," the missionary proposed
to purchase the schooner itself, at a sum much
less than her real value, but one that constituted
a very fair offer under the circumstances.

White hesitated over this proposition, but
finally accepted it upon condition that at any
time during the following summer he should be
allowed to buy the schooner back at the same
price he now received for her.

" Isn't it fine," he whispered to Cabot, after all
hands had sought their bunks, " to think that our
venture has turned out so splendidly after all? "

" Fine is no name for it," rejoined the other.
" But I do hope we v^dll have the chance of meet-
ing Mr. Homolupus once more and of thanking
him for what he has done. We owe so much to
him that, man-wolf or no man-wolf, I consider
him a splendid fellow."

In spite of their impatience to start south-
wards, our lads were still compelled to spend two
weeks longer at Locked Harbour. First the mis-

,,5»

5 ?

214

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

sionary was obliged to make a visit to his station,
and, on his return, the snow was not in condition
for a long sledge journey. Furious winds had
piled it into drifts, with intervening spaces of
bare ground, over which sledge travel would be
impossible. So they must wait until the au-
tumnal storms were over and winter had settled
down in earnest. But, impatient as they were,
time no longer hung heavily on their hands, nor
did they now regard their place of abode as a
prison. Its solitude and dreariness had fled be-
fore the advent of half a hundred Eskimo —
short, squarely built men, moon-faced women,
and roly-poly children, looking like animated
balls of fur, all of whom had been brought from
the mission to form a settlement on the beach.
It was easier to bring them to the Heaven-sent
provisions that were to keep them until spring
than it would have been to transport the heavy
barrels of flour and pork to the mission. At the
same time, they could protect the schooner from
depredations by other wandering natives.

So they came, bag and baggage, babies, dogs,
and all, and at once set to work constructing snug
habitations, in which, with plenty of food and
plenty of seal oil, they could live happily and
comfortably during the long winter months.
These structures were neither large nor elegant.
In fact they were only hovels sunk half under-

GOOD-BYE TO THE ''SEA BEE.'' 215

ground, with low stone -walls, supporting roofs of
whale ribs, covered thick with earth. A little
later they would be buried beneath warm, shape-
less mounds of snow. To most of them outside
light and air could only be admitted through the
low doorways, but one, more pretentious than
the others, was provided with an old window sash,
in which the place of missing panes was filled by
dried intestines tightly stretched. In every
hovel a stone lamp filled with seal oil burned
night and day, furnishing light, warmth, and the
heat for melting ice into drinking water, boiling
tea, drying wet mittens, and doing the family
cooking.

Cabot and White were immensely interested
in watching the construction of these primitive
Labrador homes. They were also amazed at the
readiness with which the natives made them-
selves snugly safe and comfortable, in a place
where they had despaired of keeping alive. Be-
sides watching the Eskimo prenare for the win-
ter and picking up many words of their language,
Cabot took daily lessons in snowshoeing and the
management of dog tepms, in both of which arts
White was already an adept.

According to contract, both lads had been pro-
vider V ith complete outfits for Arctic travel, in-
cluding fur clothing, boots, and sleeping bags.
A sledge with a fine team of dogs had also bt on

( !

ir*i

216

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

'>f

l^f

placed at their disposal, and an intelligent young
Eskimo, who could speak some English, was
ready to guide them on their southward journey.
He was introduced to his future travelling com-
panions as Hdlat-Netschillik, whereupon Cabot
remarked:

" That is an elegant name for special occa-
sions, such as might occur once or twice in a life-
time, but seems to me something less ornamental, *
like ' Jim,' for instance, would be better for '
everyday use. I wonder if he would mind being
called Jim?"

Gn being asked this question the young Ea--
kimo, grinning broadly, said:

" A' yite. Yim plenty goot," and afterwards
he always answered promptly and cheerfully to
the name of " Yim."

At length snow fell for several days almost
without intermission. Then a fierce wind took
it in hand, kneading it, packing it, and stuffing
it into every crack and cranny of the landscape
until hollows were filled, ridges were nicely
rounded, and rocks had disappeared. In the
meantime, strong white bridges had been thrown
across lake and stream, and the great Labrador
highway for winter travel was formally opened
to the public.

N^ovember was well advanced, and our lads
had been prisoners in Locked Harbour for more

i'-XTJ-it "

YIM.'

iii

:i i

.^i

■it

t '

GOOD-BYE TO THE ''SEA BEE:' 219

than two months when this way of escape was
opened to them. It had been decided that they
should take a single large sledge, having broad
runners, and a double team of dogs — ten in all.
On this, therefore, was finally lashed a great load
of provisions, frozen walrus meat for dog food,
sleeping bags, the three all-important cooking
utensils of the wilderness — kettle, fry-pan, and
teapot — an axe, and Cabot's bag of specimens.
With this outfit Yim was to conduct them over
the first half of their 400-mile journey, or to In-
dian Harbour, where, through a letter from the
missionary, they expected to procure a fresh
team, renew their supply of provisions, and ob-
tain another guide, who should go with them to
Battle Harbour.

When the time for starting arrived, the entire
population of the new settlement turned out to
see them off and help get their heavily laden
sledge up the steep ascent from the beach. At
the crest of the bluffs the men fired a parting
salute from their smooth-bore guns, the women
and children uttered shrill cries of farewell, and
the missionary gave them his final blessing, Yim
cracked his eighteen-foot whiplash like a pistol
shot, shouted to his dogs, and the yelping team
sprang forward. Our lads gave a fond back-
ward glance at their loved schooner, so far below
them that she looked like a toy boat, and then,

: ' ',

;;!-

■I

l]>f!

220

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

with hearts too full for words, they faced the
vast white wilderness outspread like a frozen sea
before them.

All that day they pushed steadily forward al-
most without a pause, holding a westerly course
to pass around a deep fiord that penetrated far
inland, and might not yet be crossed with safety.
Yim ran beside his straining dogs, encouraging
the laggards with whip and voice ; White led the
way and broke the trail, while Cabot brought up
the rear and helped the sledge over difficult
places.

For several hours they followed the signal line
with its fluttering flags, and felt that they were
still on familiar ground. At length even these
were left behind, and for three hours longer they
plodded sturdily forward, guided only by Yim's
unerring instinct. Then the short day came to
an end and night descended with a chill breath
of bitter winds. Cabot was nearly exhausted,
and even White was painfully weary, but both
had been buoyed up by a hope that they might
reach timber and have abundant firewood for
their first camp. Now, when Yim, throwing
down his whip and giving his dogs the command
to halt, calmly announced that they would make
camp where they were, both lads looked at him
in dismay.

" We surely can't camp here in the snow with-

GOOD-BYE TO THE ''SEA BEE:' 221

out a fire or any kind of shelter! " exclaimed
Cabot. " Why, man, we'll be frozen stiff long /
before morning."

" A' yite. Me fix um. You see," responded
Yim, cheerfully.

¥^.

•t ■,

iTk :

^y '

i'l!' ,

'III

V S ' ■

i ' '

8 J • !■

I f '^ •'

t i '

V% !

1 ;

' I

CHAPTER XXIII.

THE COMFORT OF AN ESKIMO LAMP. V

In that dreary waste of snow, unrelieved so far
as the eye could reach by so much as a single
bush, the making of a camp that should contain
even the rudiments of comfort seemed as hope-
less to White, who had always been accustomed
to a timbered country, as it did to Cabot, who
knew nothing of real camp life, and had only
played at camping in the Adirondacks. Left to
their own devices, they would have passed a most
uncomfortable if not a perilous night, for the
mercury stood at many degrees below zero. But
they had Yim with them, and he, being perfectly
at home amid all that desolation, was determined
to enjoy all the home comforts it could be made
to yield.

First he marked out a circular space some
twelve feet in diameter, from which he bade his
companions excavate the snow with their snow-
shoes, and throw it out on the win^lward side.
While they were doing this he went a short dis-
tance away, and, from a mass of closely com-

i; I

COMFORT OF AN ESKIMO LAMP. 223

pacted snow, carved out mth his knife a number
of blocks, as large as could be handled without
breaking, to each of which he gave a slight
curve. With time enough Yim could have con-
structed from such slabs a perfect igloo or snow
hut, but the fading daylight was very precious,
and he did not consider that the cold was yet
sufficiently severe to demand a complete enclo-
sure. So he merely built a low, hood-like struc-
ture on the windward side of the space the others
had cleared. One side of this was still further
extended by the sledge, relieved of its load and
set on edge.

The precious provisions were placed inside the
rude shelter, the sleeping bags covered its floor,
and, v^hen all was cf aipleted, Yim surveyed his
work with great satisfaction.

" It is pretty good so far as it goes," admitted
White, dubiously, " but I don't see how we are
to get along without at least enough fire to boil a
pot of tea, and of course we can't have a fire with-
out wood."

" That's so," agreed Cabot, shivering.

Yim only smiled knowingly as he groped
among the miscellaneous articles piled at the
back of the hut. From them he finally drew
forth a shallow soapstone bowl,j^aving one
straight side about six inches long. It was
shaped something like a clam shell, and was a

! I

,1!

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

specimen of the world-famed Eskimo cooking
lamp. He also produced a bladder full of seal
oil.

" Good enough I " cried Cabot. " Yim has re-
membered to bring along his travelling cook
stove."

Setting the lamp in the most sheltered corner
of the hut, Yim filled it with oil, and then, draw-
ing forth a pouch that hung from his neck, he
produced a wick made of sphagnum moss pre-
viously dried, rolled, and oiled. This he laid
carefully along the straight side of the lamp.
Then, turning to Cabot, he uttered the single
word: "Metches."

• " Great Scott ! " exclaimed the young engi-
neer, " I forgot to bring any But of course you
must have some. White."

" 1^0, I haven't. Matches were among the
things you were to look after, and so I never gave
them a thought."

The spirits of the lads, raised to a high pitch
of expectation by the sight of Yim's lamp, sud-
denly sank to zero with the discovery that they
had no means for lighting it. Yim, however,
only smiled at their dismay. Of course he had
long since learned the use of matches, and to ap-
preciate them at their full value; but he also
knew how to produce fire without their aid in the
simplest manner ever devised by primitive man.

COMFORT OF AN ESKIMO LAMP. 226

It is the friction method of rubbing wood against
wood, and, in one form or another, is used all
over the world. It was known to the most an-
cient Egyptians, and is practised to-day by na-
tives of the Amazon valley, dwellers on South
Pacific islands, inhabitants of Polar regions,
Indians of North America, and the negroes of
Central Africa. These widely scattered peoples
use various models of wooden drills, ploughs, or
saws. But Yim's method is the simplest of all.
When he saw that no matches were forthcoming,
he said:

" A' yite. Me fix um." At the same time he
produced two pieces of soft wood from some hid-
ing place in his garments. One of these, known
as the " spindle," was a stick about two feet long
by three-quarters of an inch in diameter and
having a rounded point. The other, called the
" hearth," was flat, about eij^hteen inches in
length, half an inch thick, and three inches wide.
On its upper surface, close to one edge, were
several slight cavities, each just large enough to
hold the rounded end of the spindle, and from
each was cut a narrow slot down the side of the
hearth. This slot is an indispensable feature,
and without it all efforts to produce fire by wood-
friction must fail.

Laying the hearth on the flat side of a sledge
runner and kneeling on it to hold it firmly in
15

ill'

r •

! I

112^

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

position, Yim set the rounded end of his spindle
in one of its depressions, and holding the upper
end between the palms of his hands, began to
twirl it rapidly, at the same time exerting all pos-
sible downward pressure. As his hai^Js moved
towards the lower end of the spindle he dexter-
ously shifted them back to the top, without lift-
ing it or allowing air to get under its lower
end.

With the continuation of the twirling process
a tiny stream of wood meal, ground off by fric-
tion, poured throug'h the slot at the side of the
hearth, and accumulated in a little pile, that all
at once began to smoke. In two seconds more
it was a glowing coal of fire. Then Yim dropped
his spindle, covered the coal with a bit of tinder
previously made ready, and blew it into a flame,
which he deftly transferred to the wick of his
lamp.

At sight of the first spiral of smoke our lads
had been filled with amazement. As the coal
began to glow they uttered exclamations of de-
light, and when the actual flame appeared they
broke into such enthusiastic cheering as set all
the dogs to barking in sympathy.

" It is one of the most wonderful things I ever
saw," cried Cabot. " I've often read of fire
being produced by wood friction, and I have
tried it lots of times myself, but as I never could

COMFORT OF AN ESKIMO LAMP. 227

raise even a smoke, and never before met any
one who could, I decided that it was all a fake
got up by story writers."

" I was rather doubtful about it myself,"
admitted White. " But, I say ! Isn't that a
great lamp, and doesn't it make things look
cheery? "

White's approval of " Yim's cook stove," aa
Cabot called it, was well merited, for its five
inches of blazing wick yielded as much light and
twice the heat of a first-class kerosene lamp.
Over it Yim had already suspended a ket+le full
of snow, and now he laid a slab of frozen pork
close beside it to be thawed out.

While waiting for these he fed the dogs, who
had been watching him with wistful eyes and
impatient yelpings. To each he threw a two-
pound chunk of frozen walrus meat, and each
devoured his portion with such ravenous rapidity
that Cabot declared they swallowed them whole.

Half an hour after the lamp was lighted it had
converted enough snow into boiling water to pro-
vide three steaming cups of tea, and while our
lads sipped at these Yim cut slices of thawed
pork, laid them in the fry-pan, and holding this
over his lamp soon had them sizzling and brown-
ing in the most appetising manner. This, with
tea and ship biscuit, constituted their supper.

When Yim no longer needed his lamp for

228

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

I I

h l"..t

cooking he removed two-thirds of its wick and
allowed the flame thus reduced to burn all night.
Over it hung a kettle of melting snow, and above
this, on a snowshoc, supported by two others,
wet mittens and moccasins were slowly but thor-
oughly dried.

In spite of the hot tea, their fur-lined sleeping
bags, and the effective wind-break behind which
they were huddled, our lads suffered with cold
long before the night was over, and were quite
willing to make a start when Yim, after a glance
at the stars, announced that daylight was only
three hours away. For breakfast they had more
scalding tea and a quantity of hard bread, broken
into small bits, soaked in warm water, fried in
seal oil, and eaten with sugar. White pro-
nounced this fine, but Cabot only ate it under
protest, because, as he said, he must fill up with
something.

The travel of that day, with its accompani-
ments of blisters and strained muscles, was much
harder than that of the day before, and our weary
lads were thankful when, towards its close, they
entered a belt of timber that had been in sight
for hours.

That night they slept warmly and soundly on
luxurious beds of spruce boughs beside a great
fire frequently replenished by Yim.

" I tell you what," said Cabot, as, early in the

is \.i'-

ek and
night.
I above
others,
it thor-

ieeping
. which
th cold
e quite
glance
as only
d more
broken
ried in
te pro-
nnder
ip with

mpani-
s much
' weary
e, they
n sight

idly on
a great

in the

COMFORT OF AN ESKIMO LAMP. 229

evening, he basked in the heat of this blaze,
" there's nothing in all this world so good as that.
For my part I consider fire to be the greatest
blessing ever conferred upon mankind."

" How about light, air, water, food, and
sleep? " asked White.

" Those are necessaries, but fire is a luxury.
Not only that, but it is the first of all luxuries
and the one upon which nearly all others de-
pend."

When, a little later, Cabot lay so close to the
blaze that his sleeping bag caught on fire, and he
burned his hands in putting it out, White laugh-
ingly asked:

^^ What do you think of your luxury now? "

" I think," was the reply, " that it proves itself
the greatest of luxuries by punishing over-indul-
gence in it with the greatest amount of pain."

" Umph! " remarked Yim, who was listening,
" Big fire, goot. Baby fire, more goot. Innuit
yamp mos' goot of any."

"Oh, pshaw!" retorted Cabot, "your sooty
little lamp isn't in it with a blaze like that."

On the third day of their journey the party
had skirted the edge of the timber for several
hours, when all at once Yim held his head high
with dilated nostrils. At the same time it was
noticed that the dogs were also sniffing eagerly.

"What is it, Yim?"

.' (

;: I

!■ I

I I

• \

230

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

" Fire. Injin fire," was the reply.

" IM like to know how you can tell an Indian
fire from any other," said Cabot. " Especially
when it is so far away that I can't smell anything
but cold air."

But Yim was right, for, after a while, his com-
panions also smelled smoke, and a little 1 : the
yelping of their dogs was answered by shriii cries
from within the timber. Suddenly two tattered
scarecrows of children emerged from the thick
growth, stared for an instant, and then, with ter-
rified expressions, darted back like frightened
rabbits.

"The Arsenic kids! " cried Cabot, who had
recognised them. " Now I'll catoh that scoun-
drel." As he spoke he sprang after the children,
and was instantly lost to view in the low timber.

"Hold on!" shouted White. "You'll run
into an ambush."

But Cabot, crashing through the undergrowth,
failed to hear the warning, and with the loyalty
of true friendship White started after him. A
minute later he overtook his impulsive comrade
standing still and gazing irresolute at a canvas
tent, black with age and smoke, and patched in
many places. It stood on the edge of a small
lake, and slicwed no sign of occupancy save a
slender curl of smoke that drifted from a vent
hole in its apex.

COMFORT OF AN ESKIMO LAMP. 231

"Get behind cover," cried White. "They
may take a pot shot at any moment."

" I don't believe it," replied Cabot. « Any
way, I'm bound to see what's inside."

Thus saying he stepped forward and lifted the
dmgy flap.

=asB

I'i

1 1 tii

[| : 1
■I

I'i

•:i

' I

CHAPTER XXIY.

OBJECTS OF CHARITY.

While Cabot felt very bitter against the
young Indian whom he had named " Arsenic,"
on account of the base ingratitude with which
the latter had repaid the kindness shown him,
and was determined to punish him for it in some
way, he had not the slightest idea what form the
punishment would take. Of course he did not
intend to kill Arsenic, nor even to severely in-
jure him, but he had thought of giving the rascal
a sound thrashing, and only hoped he could
make him understand what it was for. In the
excitement of the past two weeks he had forgot-
ten all about Arsenic, but the sight of those rag-
ged children had awakened his animosity, and
he had followed them, hoping that they would
lead him to the object of his just wrath. It was
only when he reached the sorry-looking tent that
he remembered the other savages whom Arsenic
had brought with him on his second visit to the
schooner, and wondered if some of them might

OBJECTS OF CHARITY,

233

not be concealed behind the canvas screen ready
to spring upon him.

With this thought he stepped nimbly to one
side as he threw open the flap, and stood for a
moment waiting for .what might happen. There
was no rush of men and no sound, save only a
faint cry of terror, hearing which Cabot peered
cautiously around the edge of the opening.

A poor little fire of sticks smouldered on the
ground in the middle, filling the place with a
pungent smoke. Through this Cabot could at
first make out only a confused huddle at one side,
from which several pairs of eyes glared at him
like those of wild beasts. As he entered the tent
a human figure detached itself from this and
strove to rise, but fell back weakly helpless. In
another moment a closer view disclosed to Cabot
the whole dreadful situation. The huddle re-
solved itself into a woman, hollow-cheeked and
gaunt with sickness and hunger, two children in
slightly better plight, and a little dead baby.
There was no other person in the tent, and it con-
tained no furnishing except the heap of boughs,
rags, and scraps of fur that passed for a bed,
and a broken kettle that lay beside the fire.
On the floor were scattered a few bones picked
clean, from which even the marrow had been
extracted; but otherwise there was no vestige of
food.

■«!ii:

234

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

\. K'i '

" I believe they are starving to death ! " cried
Cabot, as he made these discoveries.

" It certainly looks like it," replied White,
who had followed his friend into the tent. " I
wonder what they did with all the provisions they
stole from us."

" Probably they were taken from them in turn
to feed those other Indians. At any rate, they
are destitute enough now, and we can't leave
them here to die. Go and bring Yim with the
sled as quick as you can, while I wake up this
fire."

• " All right," replied White, " only I'm afraid
he won't come."

" He must come," said Cabot decisively.

The hatred between Eskimo and Indian is so
bitter that it took all White's powers of persua-
sion, together with certain threats, to bring Yim
to the tent, but once there even he was suffi-
ciently roused by its spectacle of suffering to be-
stir himself most actively.

During the next hour, while the starving, half-
frozen Indians were warmed and fed, the res-
cuers discussed the situation and what should be
done. They could not leave the helpless family
as they had found them, neither could they carry
them away, and it would be folly to remain with
them longer than was absolutely necessary.
They could not gain a word of information from

,iii

OBJECTS OF CHARITY.

235

the woman or children as to how they had arrived
at such a pitiable plight, what they had done with
the stolen provisions, why their friends had aban-
doned them, or what had become of Arsenic.

"I'll tell you what," said Cabot at length;
" we'll provide them with a supply of wood and
leave all the provisions we can possibly spare.
Then we will hurry on to Indian Harbour, send
back some more provisions from there by Yim,
and get him to report the case to Mr. Mellins."

As there seemed nothing better to be done,
this plan was carried out, though dividing the
provisions made each portion look woefully small,
and by noon the sledge was again on its way
southward.

The head of the fiord having been reached,
the trail now left the sheltering timber and
struck across an open country, which was also
extremely rugged, abounding in hills and hol-
lows. Over these the sledge pulled heavily, in
spite of its lightened load, because one of the ice
shoes, with which its runners were shod, had
broken and could not be repaired until camp was
made.

When they had gone about three miles, and
while our lads were still talking of the suffering
they had so recently witnessed, they were at-
tracted by an exclamation from Yim, who was
pointing eagerly ahead. Looking in that direc-

' rz

236

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

;

i , I

tion, they saw a line of dark objects, that had
just topped a distant ridge, running swiftly to-
wards them.

" Caribou! " shouted White, in great excite-
ment, at the same time seizing his rifle from the
sledge and hastily removing it from its sealskin
case. In another minute sledge and dogs were
concealed in a bit of a gully, with Cabot to watch
them, while Yim and White, lying flat behind
the crest of a low ridge, were eagerly noting the
course of the approaching animals. When it be-
came evident that they would pass at some dis-
tance on the right. White, crouching low, ran in
that direction.

The caribou appeared badly frightened, paus-
ing every few moments to face about and cast
terrified glances over the way they had come.
All at once, during one of these pauses, a shot
rang out, followed quickly by another, and, as
the terrified animals dashed madly away in a new
direction, one of their number dropped behind,
staggered, and fell.

" Tve got him ! IVe got him ! " yelled White,
wild with the joy of his achievement.

"Hurrah for us! " shouted Cabot. "Steaks
and spare-ribs for supper to-night."

" Yip, yip, yip! " screamed Yim to his dogs,
and with a jubilant cTiorus of yells and yelpings,
the entire outfit streamed over the ridge to the

iii

OBJECTS OF CHARITY.

22,1

that had
aftly to-

,t excite-
from the
, sealskin
ogs were
to watch
,t behind
oting the
len it be-
3ome dis-

w, ran in

Led, paus-
and cast
ad come.
3s, a shot
', and, as
' in a new
i behind,

id White,

" Steaks

his dogs,
yelpings,
ge to the

place where the unfortunate caribou lay motion-
less.

In his broken English Yim gave the lads to
understand that it would be advisable to camp
where they were, in order to prepare their meat
for transportation, and also to mend their broken
sledge shoe. This latter, he explained, could be
done much better witV a mixture of blood and
snow than with any other available material. He
furthermore intimated that he feared they might
be overtaken by a blizzard before morning, in
which case they could best defy it in a regularly
built igloo.

All these reasons for delay seemed so good that
the others accepted them, and the work outlined
by Yim was immediately begun. In cutting up
the caribou, as in building the snow hut, Cabot,
from lack of experience, could give but slight
assistance, and, realising this, he made a proposal.

" Look here,'' he said. " The wood we have
brought along won't last long and I want a good
fire to-night. I also want to carry some of this
meat to those poor wretches we have just left.
We have got more than we can take -with us, any-
how. So I am going back with a leg of venison,
and on my return I'll bring all the wood I can
pack."

IP, ■

ii'f

ii '

"But
White.

you might lose the way," objected

238

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

■*i :.

" !No one could lose so plain a trail as the one
we have just made," replied Cabot, scornfully.

" Suppose it should be dark before you got
back?"

" There will be three hours of daylight yet,
and I won't be gone more than two at the most.
Anyhow, I must get some of this meat to those
starving children."

White's protests were ineffectual before Ca-
bot's strong resolve, and, as soon as a forequarter
of the caribou could be made ready, the latter
set forth on his errand of mercy. Although he
had no difficulty in finding the trail, it was so
much harder to walk with a heavy load than it
had been without one that a full hour had passed
before he again came within sight of the lonely
tent iu the forest.

One of the children who was outside spied him
and announced his coming, so that when he en-
tered the tent he again found a frightened group
huddled together and apprehensively awaiting
him. But they were stronger now, and the chil-
dren uttered little squeals of joy at sight of the
meat he had brought, while even the haggard
face of their mother was lighted by a fleeting
smile.

For the pleasure of seeing the children eat
Cabot toasted a few strips of venison over the
coals, and these smelled so good that he cut oil

OBJECTS OF CHARITY.

239

some more for himself. In this occupation he
spent another hour without realising the flight
of time, and had eaten a quantity of meat that
he would have deemed impossible had it all been
placed before him at once.

As he was bending over the fire toasting a strip
that he said to himself should be the last, a slight
cry from one of the children caused him to look
up. He barely caught a glimpse of a face at the
entrance as it was hastily withdrawn, but in that
moment he recognised the features of Arsenic.
At sight of the ill-favoured young Indian all of
Cabot's former resentment flamed up, and
springing to his feet he dashed from the tent,
determined to give Arsenic the thrashing he
deserved.

Of course Cabot had removed his snowshoes,
but, as the young Indian had done the same
thing, both were compelled to readjust these all-
important articles, without which they would
have floundered helplessly in the deep snow.

Arsenic was off first, and though Cabot chased
him hotly he could not overcome the advantage
thus gained. Being also much less expert in the
management of snowshoes, he tripped several
times, and finally pitched headlong. When he
next regained his feet Arsenic had disappeared
in the timber, and our lad realised the futility of
a further pursuit. Now, too, he noticed that the

■I

■A

fi H

^Oi

240

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

' i

1 .

liiiii

Mi?
1

I I

sky had become heavily overcast, and that a
strong wind was soughing ominously through the
tree tops.

" It must be later than I thought," he re-
flected, " and high time for me to be getting back
to camp." With this he hastily gathered a
bundle of sticks to be used as firewood and
started, as he supposed, towards the open ; but so
confused was he, and so many turns did he make,
that more than half an hour was wasted before
he finally emerged from the timber. Here he
was dismayed to find that snow was falling, or
rather being driven in straight lines by the wind,
which had increased to the force of a gale.

" V\G got to hump myself to reach camp be-
fore dark, but I'll make it all right," he remarked
to himself, as he set forth across the white plain.

He took a diagonal course that he hoped would
lead him to the trail, but by the time all land-
marks were obliterated by the descending night
he had failed to find it. In looking back he
could not even distinguish the timber line fro u
which he had come. Then the awful conviction
slowly forced itself upon him that he was !< ^' .
a trackless wilderness, swept by the first of

an Arctic blizzard.

that a
ugh the

he re-
ng back
tiered a
)od and
; but so
e make,
I before
:Iere he
[ling, or
le wind,
e.

amp be-
imarked
3 plain,
d would
all land-
ig night
back he
ne fro.n
nviction

LS 1' i .

CHAPTER XXV.

LOST IN A BLIZZARD.

So numbed was our poor lad by the shock of
his discovery that, for a few moments, he stood
motionless. Of course it would be of no use to
continue his hopeless struggle. Even if he had
come in the right direction he must ere this have
passed the place where his companions were en-
camped. If he could only regain the timber
there might be a slight chance of surviving the
night; but even its location was lost to him, and
a certain death stared him in the face. At any
rate it would be a painless ending, f^^r he had
only to lie down to be quickly covered by a soft
blanket of snow. Then he could go to sleep
never again to waken. He was very weary, and
already so drowsy that the thought of sleep was
pleasant to him. Such a death would certainly
not be so terrible as drowning after a hopeless
struggle with black waters.

With this thought every incident of that awful
nig it after the loss of the " Lavinia '^ flashed

3s had seemed

I] if

■.'3

utterly hop(

•r^

':i!

242

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

n I

his situation then and how desperately he had
fought for his life. But he had fought, and had
won the fight. What was the use of learning a
lesson of th^o kind if he could not profit by it?
Was not his life as well worth fighting for now
as then? Of course it was; nor was his present
position any more hopeless than that one had
been. Then he had drifted with the wind, and
now he would do the same thing. If he could
hold out long enough he would fetch up some-
where sometime. It was merely a question of
endurance. Even in that howling wilderness,
with death on all sides, there were still three
chances for life. The drift with the wind might
take him to the igloo that Yim must have built
ere this. How bright, and warm, and cosey its
lamplighted interior would be. How glad they
v/ould be to see him, and how he would laugh
at all his recent fears. But of course there
was not one chance in a million of his find-
ing the igloo. It was not at all unlikely, though,
that the drift might take him to a belt of timber,
into which the bitter wind could not penetrate,
and where he could crawl under the thick, low-
hanging branches of some tent-like spruce. Even
such a shelter now seemed very desirable, and
would be accepted with thankfulness. If he
failed to reach timber, the wind might blow him
to some region of cliffs and rocks that would shel-

H ;

LOST IN A BLIZZARD.

243

':•

ter him from its cutting blasts. If he missed all
these chances, and if worse came to worst, he
could always go to sleep beneath the snow blan-
ket, and it would be better to do that with the
consciousness of having made a good fight than
to yield now like a coward.

All these thoughts flashed through Cabot's
mind within the space of a minute, and, having
determined to fight until the battle was either
won or lost, he flung away his now useless bur-
den of firewoo<i and started off down the wind.
Tramping through that newly fallen snow, even
with the support of racquets, was exhausting
work, but the effort at least kept him warm, and,
before he came to the end of his strength, some
hours later, he had covered a number of miles.
He had also come to the least promising of the
three places he had hoped for, and found him-
self in a region of cliffs, precipices, and huge
rocks, among which he could no longer make
headway, even though he had not reached the
limit of endurance.

But he had reached that limit, and now only
sought a spot in which he might lie down and go
to sleep. Of course the snow would quickly
cover him, and doubtless he would be buried deep
ere the fury of the storm was past. But he had
a vague plan for putting his snowshoes over his
head like an inverted V, and hoped in that way

;!'!

^1'

¥'

'ii>.i

■(•:■«,

4ii

: 1

■\

\ n

1 1

-\-\

it >

\ f ^ili**ill « I " ilw ■ ifcit^il

244

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

!»
^

to be kept from smothering. At the same time
he had little thought that he should ever see the
light of another day.

" Only a bit further and then I can rest," he
muttered, as he pushed into the blackness of a
rift between two tall cliffs, and experienced a par-
tial relief from the furious wind. It seemed as
though he ought to penetrate this as far as pos-
sible, and so he struggled weakly forward. Then
he stumbled over something that lay across his
path and fell heavily. As he lay wondering
whether an attempt to regain his feet would be
worth while, he seemed to hear the distant but
strenuous ringing of an electric bell, and almost
smiled at the absurdity of such a fancy in such a
place. The thought carried him back to the elec-
trical laboratory of the Institute, and he began
to dream that he was still a student of ohms,
volts, and amperes.

In another moment his consciousness would
have been wholly merged in dreams, but sud-
denly the place where he lay was filled with a
blaze of light that apparently streamed from the
solid rock on either side. So intense was this
light that it penetrated even Cabot's closed eyes,
and aroused him from the stupor into which he
had fallen. He lifted his head, and, still be-
wildered, wondered why the laboratory was so
brilliantly illuminated.

Itf

LOST IN A BLIZZARD.

245

Then, through the glare, he saw the driving
snow-flakes with their dancing shadows magni-
fied a hundred fold, and, all at once, he remem-
bered. Staggering to his feet, and groping with
outstretched arms, he pushed forward along the
narrow pathway outlined by the mysterious light.
He no longer heard the sound of bells, but in its
place came strains of music that blended weirdly
with the shrieking wind, and irresistibly com-
pelled him forward. The pathway sloped down-
ward and then took a sharp turn. As Cabot
passed this the light behind him was extinguished
as suddenly as it had appeared, the wild music
sounded louder than ever, and directly in front
of him gleamed two squares of light like win-
dows. Between them was a dark space, towards
which he instinctively stumbled. It proved to
be as he had hoped, a door massive and without
any means of unclosing that his blind fumblings
could discover. So he beat against it feebly and
uttered a hoarse cry for help. In another mo-
ment it was opened, and Cabot, leaning heavily
against it, fell into a room, small, warm, and
brightly lighted.

For a few minutes he lay with closed eyes,
barely conscious that his struggle for life had
been successful, and that in some mysterious
manner he had gained a place of safety. Gradu-
ally he became aware that some one was bending

ll. ;' ',

\l\^'\

i -

,; r

31^

1 1

■7r«-

246

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

I I

Hi f *

ill 'III

i.iJl!'

over him, and opening his eyes he gazed full
into a face that he instantly recognised, though
it had sadly changed since he last saw it. At
that time it had expressed strength in every
line, but now it was haggard and worn by suffer-
ing.

" The Man-wolf! " gasped Cabot, in a voice
hardly above a whisper.

A slight smile flitted across the man's face, and
then, without warning, he sank to the floor in a
dead faint. His mighty strength had been
turned to the weakness of water, and the iron
will had at length relaxed its hold upon the en-
feebled body. As the man-wolf fell, a stream
of blood trickled from his mouth, and he choked
for breath as though strangling.

There is nothing so effective in restoring spent
strength as a demand upon it from one who is
weaker, and at sight of the big man's helplessness
Cabot was instantly nerved to renewed effort.
He sat up, cut loose his snowshoes, closed the
open door, and rid himself of his snow-laden
outer garments. Then, by a supreme effort, he
managed to drag the unconscious man to a bed
that was piled with robes and lean him against
it. His eyes had already lighted on a jug of
water, and fetching this he bathed the sufferer's
face, washed the blood from his mouth, and
finally had the satisfaction of seeing his eyes un-

LOST IN A BLIZZARD.

247

voice

close. Then he helped him on to the bed, and
though during the operation the man's face ex-
pressed tlie most intense pain, he uttered no
sound. But the movement was accompanied by
another hemorrhage, so severe that it seemed to
our distressed lad as though the man must surely
bleed to death before it was checked. When it
finally ceased the exhausted sufferer dropped
asleep, and, for the first time since entering that
place of mysteries, Cabot found an opportunity
for looking about him.

Although the room was small it was comfort-
ably furnished with a table, chairs — one of which
was a rocker — a lounge, and the bed on which
the man-wolf lav. There were no windows nor
doors except those in front. The ceiling was of
heavy canvas tightly stretched, while the walls
were hung with the skins of fur-bearing animals,
and the floor was covered with rugs of the same
material. At first Cabot paid no attention to
these details, for his eyes were fixed upon the
most astonishing thing he had seen in all Labra-
dor. It was a lamp that, depending from the
ceiling, gave to the room an illumination as bril-
liant as daylight.

" Electric, as I live ! '^ gasped the young engi-
neer. " A regular incandescent, and those lights
out on the trail must have been the same. That
was an electric bell too. I know it now, though

4lf

'Hi

1 ■ '

24S

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR,

»;•; r :i

I couldn't believe my ears at the time. The
light he scared the Indians with must have been
an electric flash, worked by a storage battery.
But it is all so incredible! I wonder if I am
really awake or still dreaming? "

To assure himself on this point Cabot went to
the light, and, as he did so, came upon another
surprise greater than any that had preceded it.
He had wondered at the comfortable tempera-
ture of the room, for there was nowhere a fire to
be seen, and the blizzard still howled outside with
unabated fury. N^ow, on drawing near to the
lamp, he found himself also approaching some
heretofore unobserved source of heat, which he
discovered to be a drum of sheet iron. It stood
by itself, unconnected with any chimney, and
apparently had no receptacle for any form of
fuel, solid, liquid, or gaseous.

" A Balfour electric heater," murmured Ca-
bot, in an awe-stricken tone, " and I didn't even
know they had been perfected. I don't suppose
there are half-a-dozen in use in all the world, and
yet here is one of them doing its full duty up here
in the Labrador wilderness, a thousand miles
from anywhere. It is fully equal to any tale of
the Arabian Nights, and Mr. Homolupus must,
as the natives say, be either a god or a devil. I do
wonder who he is, where he came from, what has
happened to him, where he gets his electricity.

LOST IN A BLIZZARD.

249

and a thousand other things. I wish he would
wake up, and I wish he could talk."

Cabot's curiosity concerning the weird music
that had drawn him to that place had been par-
tially satisfied by the discovery of a violin on the
floor beside the sick man's bed. Now, as he flung
himself wearily down on the lounge for a bit of
rest, he became conscious of the muffled b-r-r-r
of a dynamo. That accounted in a measure for
the electric lights, but still left our lad in a daze
of wonder at the nature of his surroundings.

:il

[I ■ 'n^

CHAPTER XXVI.

AN ELECTRICIAN IN THE WILDERNESS.

When Cabot threw himself down on that
lounge he fully intended to remain awake, or at
most to take only a series of short naps, always
holding himself in readiness to assist the sufferer
on the opposite side of the room. But exhausted
nature proved too much for his good intentions,
and he had hardly lain down before he fell into
a dead, dreamless sleep that lasted for many
hours. When he next awoke it was with a start,
and he sat up bewildered by the strangeness of
his environment. Daylight was streaming in at
the frost-covered windows and the storm of the
night before had evidently spent its fury.

Almost the first thing he saw was the tall form
of his host bending feebly over the electric stove.
His face was drawn with pain, and he was so
weak that he was compelled to support himself
by grasping the table with one hand while with
the other he stirred the contents of a simmering
kettle.

" Let me do that, sir! " cried Cabot, springing

i) ' I

AN ELECTRICIAN.

251

•n

that

e, or at
always
mfferer
hausted
entions,
:ell into
many
a start,
ness of
ig in at
of the

all form
Lc stove,
was so
himself
ile with
imering

)ringing

to his feet. " You are not fit to be out of your
bed, and I am perfectly familiar with the man-
agement of electrical cooking apparatus, though
I don't know much about cooking itself."

The man hesitated a moment, and then per-
mitted the other to lead him back to his bed, on
which he sank with a groan. Here Cabot made
him as comfortable as possible before turning his
attention to the stove. On it he found two
kettles, each having its own wire connections, in
one of which was boiling water while the other
contained a meat stew. On the table was a box
of tea, a bowl of sugar, and a plate heaped with
hard bread. Finding other dishes in a cupboard,
Cabot made a pot of tea, turned off the electric
current, and served breakfast. Before eating a
mouthful himself he prepared a bowl of broth
for his patient, which the latter managed to swal-
low after many attempts and painful effort.

Cabot ate ravenously, and, after his meal, felt
once more ready to face any number of difficul-
ties. First he went to the bedside of his host
and said:

"Now, Mr. Homolupus, I want to find out
what is the trouble and what I can do for you.
Are you wounded, or just naturally ill? "

The man looked at his questioner for a mo-
ment, as though he were on the point of speak-
ing. Then he seemed to change his mind, and,

I '
'I II

;1l

*r'

lil

252

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

i t

1^ t ■ '

I'r \

reaching for a pencil and pad that lay close at
hand, he wrote:

" I am shot in the chest."

" Who — I mean how " began Cabot, and

then, realising that his curiosity could well wait,
he added : " But, with your permission, I will ex-
amine the wound and see if there is anything I
can do."

With this he sought and gently removed a
blood-soaked bandage, thereby disclosing a sight
so ghastly that it almost unnerved him. The
wound was so terrible, and the loss of blood from
it had evidently been so great, that how even
the giant frame of the man- wolf could have sur-
vived it was amazing. Having no knowledge of
surgery, Cabot could only bathe and rebandage
it. Then he said :

" N^ow, I am going to be your nurse, and you
must lie perfectly still without attempting to get
up again until I give you leave."

Seeing an expression of dissent in the man's
face, he continued:

" It's all right. I am under the greatest of
obligations to you, and am only too glad of a
chance to pay some of it back. So I shall stay
right here just as long as you need me. Fortu-
nately I know something about both electricity
and machinery, having been educated at a tech-
nical institute, so that I shall be able to manage

3lose at

lot) and
ill wait,
will ex-
thing I

loved a
a sight
L. The
?d from
w even
Eive sur-
edge of
)andage

md you
g to get

e man's

atest of
ad of a
lall stay
Fortu-
3ctricity
: a tech-
manage

AN ELECTRICIAN.

263

very well with your plant. But I do wish you
could explain a few things to me. Is your name
really ' Ilomolupus 'i"

The sufferer smiled and wrote on his pad:

" My name is Watson Balfour."

" Of London? " queried Cabot.

The man nodded.

"Is it possible that you can be Watson Balfour,
the celebrated English electrician, who is sup-
posed to have been lost at sea some years

ago

Again the man smiled and made a sign of
assent.

For a moment Cabot stared, well nigh speech-
less with the wonder and excitement of this dis-
covery. Then he broke into a torrent of excla-
mations and questions.

" Why, Mr. Balfour, I know you so well by re-
putation that you seem like an old friend. Your
' Handbook of Electricity ' and your ' Compara-
tive Voltage ' are text books at the Institute.
The whole scientific world mourned your sup-
posed death. But how do you happen to be up
here, and how have you managed to establish an
electric plant in this wilderness? Why are you
masquerading as a man-wolf? How did you lose
the power of speech? How did you become so
severely wounded? Can't you tell me some of
these things? "

?:•'

Iji

11'

FT-

264

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

'ii /'■

For answer Mr. Balfour wrote : " Perhaps,
some time. Tell first how you came here."

So Cabot, forced to curb for the present his
own overpowering curiosity, sat down and told of
all that had happened since the departure of the
man-wolf from Locked Harbour. When he had
finished he said : ^

" And now, I ought to go outside and see if I
can discover any trace of my companions, who
must be awfully cut up over my disappearance.
But don't be uneasy, Mr. Balfour, I shan't go far,
and whether I find them or not I shall certainly
come back to stay just as long as you need me.
I hope you will sleep while I am gone, and I msh
you would promise not to leave your bed, or move
more than is absolutely necessary, before my
return."

WHen Cabot first stepped outside the shelter
that had proved such a haven of safety to him,
he was dazzled by the brilliancy of the day.
After becoming somewhat accustomed to the
glare of sunlight on new-fallen snow, he turned
to see what sort of a house he had just left. To
his surprise there was no house; the only sug-
gestion of one being two windows and a door
set in a wall of rock that was built at the base of
a cliff.

" It is a cavern," thought Cabot, " and that is
the reason the room is so easily kept warm.

erhaps,

lent his

. told of

3 of the

he had

see if I
ns, who
)arance.
t go far,
ertainly
eed me.
d I msh
or move
'ore my

shelter
to him,
he day.
to the
turned
ft. To
ily sug"
a door
base of

i that is
warm.

/w.

'-LA \ II I' I ill OIULS

, HOWARD

\ yi'lili '^"•«

MY XAMK IS WATSON" HALFOUR.

'!•?

I u

1 1 '

r*"

■"•' — "-^i^^WwE^^Bw

wBm

:\ ' ■

f.' ■ :

liti

AN ELECTRICIAN.

257

Mighty good thing to have in this country, espe-
cially when it is lined with furs."

The snow lay unbroken, and there was no sign
of the trail ne had made the night before. For
a short distance, however, he could go in but one
direction, for the only way out was through the
narrow defile by which he had entertjd. At its
mouth he found the wire over whicb he had fal-
len, and thereby given notice of his approach by
causing the ringing of an electric bell.

" When he heard it he turned on the lights,"
said Cabot to himself. " It's a great scheme for
scaring off Indians and attracting white men. I
wonder if any other person ever found the place?
What a marvellous thing my stumbling on it was,
anyhow. Now, which way did I come ? "

Gazing blankly at the surrounding chaos of
snow-covered rocks, our lad could form no idea
of the route by which he had been led to that
place, through the rrorm and darkness of the
preceding night, noi of how he might leave it.

" There is no use wandering aimlessly," he de-
cided at length, " and I'll either have to gain a
bird's-eye view of the country or get Mr. Balfour
to make me a map. To think that I should have
discovered him, and here of all places in the
world. What a sensation it will make w-ien I
tell of it. Of course I shall do so, for I'll get
out of this fix all right somehow. What a state
17

tv.I

I-'; 5

fit!

111

i ■

i '

' .

258

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

of mind poor White nmst be in this morning. I
know I should be in his place. He's all right,
though, with Yim to pull him through, and
they'll make Indian Harbour casyenoiigh. Then
I shall be reported lost, and after a while Mr.
Hepburn will hear the news. AVonder what he
thinks has become of me anyhow? I am follow-
ing out instructions, and wintering in Labrador
fast enough. Only I don't seem to have much
time to investigate mining properties, and of
course it's no use trying to find 'em buried under
feet of snow. Perhaps Mr. Balfour has discov-
ered some while roaming around the country as
a man-wolf. How absurd to think of ' Voltage '
I^alfour as a man-wolf! Wonder why he did it?
How I wish he could talk! Wonder Avhy he

can't? '»

While thus cogitating, Cabot had also been
climbing a nearby eminence that promised a
view of the outlying country, but from it he
could see nothing save other hills rising still
higher and an unbroken waste of snow.

" It's no use," he sighed. " I don't believe I
could find them, even if I had plenty of time.
As it is, I don't dare stay away from Mr. Balfour
any longer. I'm afraid he's a very sick man,
with a slim chance of ever pulling through."

So Cabot, after an absence of several hours,
turned back towards the snug shelter so provi-

AN ELECTRICIAN.

259

dentially provided for him, and for which he was
just then more grateful than he could express.
He was thinking of the many wonders of the
place when he reached its door; but, as he opened
it and stepped inside the room, he was greeted
by a greater surprise than he had yet encoun-
tered. Nothing was changed about the interior,
and the wounded man lay as Cabot had left him,
but with the appearance of the latter he ex-
claimed :

" Thank God, dear lad, that you have come
back to me! It seemed as though I should go
crazy if left alone a minute longer."

Cabot stared in amazement. " Is it a mir-
acle?" he finally asked, "and has your speech
been restored to you, or have you been able to
speak all the time? "

" I have been able, but not willing," was the
reply. " I had thought to die without speaking
to a human being. I even avoided my fellows,
believing myself sufficient unto myself. But
God has punished my arrogance and shown me
my weakness. Until you came no stranger has
ever set foot within this dwelling, to none have
I spoken, and not even to you did I intend to
speak, but with your going my folly became
plain. I feared you might never return; the
horrop of living alone, and the greater horror of
dying alone, swept over me. Then I prayed for

l|!|

260

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

:4 -

i i
I

you to come. I promised to speak as soon as
you were within hearing. Every moment since
then I have watched for you and longed for your
coming as a dying man longs for the breath of
life. Promise that you will not leave me again."

" I have already promised, and now I repeat,
that I will not leave you so long as you have need
of me," replied Cabot. " But tell me "

" I will tell you everything," interrupted the
wounded man, " but first you must look after the
dynamo. It has stopped, and if you cannot set
it going again we must both perish."

:'-i:

1.3

CHAPTER XXVII.

'':|r

I'4'e

THE MAN- wolf's STORY.

'\ m

An accident to the dynamo in that place where
there was no fuel, and electricity must be de-
pended upon for liglit and heat, was so serious
a matter that, for a moment, even Cabot's curi-
osity concerning his host was merged in anxiety.

" Where shall I find it? " he asked.

" In the cavern back of this room. The door-
way is behind that bearskin. This upper row of
keys connects with the storage battery, and the
second key controls the lights of the dynamo
room. If there is a bad break I can manage to
get to it, but I wouldn't try until you came, be-
cause I promised not to move."

All this was said in a voice that faltered from
weakness, and a wave of pity surged in Cabot's
breast as he realised how dependent upon him
this man, so recently a mental as well as a physi-
cal giant, had become.

" I expect I shall be able to attend to it all
right," he said decisively, as he turned on the
stored current that would light the unknown

'it

i \

ill

i*.

HBH

m 1

if ''

«:

I
h '

ill

^■j ■ t

iii

262

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

cavern. " At any rate, I shall be able to report
the condition of things, so that you can advise me
what to do, or else my training is a greater failure
than I think."

With this he lifted the bearskin, opened a door
thus disclosed, and found himself in a small, well-
lighted cavern that was at once a dynamo room,
a workshop, and a storehouse for a confused mis-
cellany of articles. Without pausing to investi-
gate any of these he went directly to a dynamo
that had been set up at one side and examined it
carefully. It appeared in perfect order, and the
trouble must evidently be sought elsewhere.

Cabot had wondered by Avhat power the dy-
namo was driven, and now, hearing a sound of
running water, he stepped in that direction. A
short distance away he discovered a swift-flow-
ing subterranean stream, in which revolved a
water wheel of rude, but serviceable, construc-
tion. As nothing seemed wrong with it, he was
obliged to look further, and finally found the
cause of trouble to be a transmitting belt, the
worn-out lacing of which had parted. As por-
tions of the belt itself had been caught in the
pulleys and badly cut, it was necessary to hunt
through the pile of material for a new one, and
for leather suitable for lacing. Then the new
belt must be accurately measured, laced together,
and adjusted to its pulleys.

THE MAN-WOLF'S STORY.

263

■i\' ii

Although the temperature of the cavern was
many degrees above that of the outside air, it was
still so low that Cabot worked slowly and with
numbed fingers. Thus more than an hour had
elapsed before the dynamo was again in running
order, and he was at liberty to return to the liv-
ing room. In the meantime his curiosity con-
cerning this strange place of abode and its myste-
rious tenant was increased by the remarkable
collection of articles stored on all sides. There
was no end of machinery, tools, and electrical
apparatus of all kinds, including miles of copper
wire and chemicals for charging batteries. Be-
sides these, there were ropes, canvas, furniture,
boxes, barrels, and other things too numerous to
mention.

" What a prize this place would have been for
the Indians if they had ever discovered it," re-
flected the young engineer. " I wonder that he
dared go off and leave it unguarded."

When he finally returned to the outer room,
he found it even colder than the cavern in which
he had been working, and realised, as never be-
fore, the value of the knowledge t.iiat had en-
abled him to restore the usefulness of that
electric heater. After getting it into operation,
and making his report to the sick man, who had
impatiently awaited him, there was another meal
to prepare.

•' if

-ji^irs^

264

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

til
M

li '

i! 1

mrii

Si,:
1::

So, in spite of Cabot's overwhelming desire to
hear Mr. Balfour's story, there was so much to
be done first that the short day had merged into
another night before the opportunity arrived.
When it came, our lad drew a chair to the bed-
side of his patient and said :

" Now, sir, if you feel able to talk, and are
willing to tell me how you happen to be living
in this place, I shall be more than glad to
listen."

" I am willing," replied the other, " but must
be brief, since talking has become an exertion.
As perhaps you know, I was a working electrician
in London, where, though I had a good business,
I had not accumulated much money. Conse-
quently I was greatly pleased to receive what
promised to be a lucrative contract from a Cana-
dian railway company for supplying and instal-
ling a quantity of electrical apparatus along their
line. I at once invested every penny I could
raise in the purchase of material and in the char-
ter of a sailing vessel to transport it to this
country. On the eve of sailing I married a
young lady to whom I had long been engaged,
and, with light hearts, we set forth on our wed-
ding trip across the Atlantic.

" The first two weeks of that voyage were filled
with such happiness that I trembled for fear it
should be snatched from me. During that time

i!i

x:.

THE MAN-WOLF'S STORY.

265

sire to
uch to
id into
rrived.
le bed-

nd are

living

;lad to

it must
:ertion.
jtrician
iisiness,
Conse-
e what
I Cana-

instal-
Lg their
[ could
LG char-
to this
pried a

gaged,
ir wed-

re filled
fear it
at time

we had fair weather and favouring winds. Then
we ran into a gale that lasted for days, and drove
us far out of our course. One mast went by the
board, the other was cut away to save the ship,
and, while in tliis helpless condition, she struck
at night, what I afterwards learned to be, a mass
of floating ice. At the time all hands believed
us to be on the coast, and the crew, taking our
only seaworthy boat, put off in a panic, while I
was below preparing my wife for departure.
Thus deserted, we awaited the death that we
expected with each passing moment, but it failed
to come and the ship still floated. With earliest
daylight I was on deck, and, to my amazement,
saw land on both sides. AVe had been driven
into the mouth of a broad estuary, up which wind
and tide were still carrying us.

" For three days our helpless drift, to and fro,
was continued, and then our ship grounded on a
ledge at the foot of these cliffs. Getting ashore
with little difficulty, we were dismayed to find
ourselves in an uninhabited wilderness, devoid
even of vegetation other than moss and low grow-
ing shrubs. One of my first discoveries was this
cavern with its subterranean stream of water,
and two openings, one of which gives easy access
to the sea. Knowing that our ship must, sooner
or later, go to pieces, and desirous of saving
what property I might, I rigged up a derrick at

3=E

266

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

Ill

the mouth of the cavern, and, with the aid of my
brave wife, transferred everything movable
from the wreck ; a labour of months.

" Winter was now at hand, and, foreseeing
that we must spend it where we were, I walled
up the openings and made all possible prepara-
tions to fight the coming cold. We burned wood
from the wreck while it lasted, and in the mean-
time I labored almost night and day at the es-
tablishment of an electric plant. But the awful
winter came and found it still unfinished, and
before the coming of another spring I was left
alone."

Here the speaker paused, overcome as much
by his feelings as by weakness, and, during the
silence that followed, Cabot stole away, osten-
sibly to see that the dynamo was running
smoothly. When he returned the narrator had
recovered his calmness, and was ready to con-
tinue his story.

" She had never been strong," he said, " and
I so cruelly allowed her to overwork herself that
she had no strength left with which to fight the
winter. She died in my arms in this very room,
and I promised never to leave her. Also, after
her death, I vowed that my last words to her
should be my last to any human being, and, until
this day, I have kept that vow, foolish and wicked
though it was. I have talked and read aloud

THE MAN-WOLF'S STORY.

267

IK:. I

when alone, but to no man have I spoken. I
have also avoided intercourse with my fellows,
selfishly preferring to nurse my sorrow in sinful
rebellion against God's will. Now am I justly
punished by being stricken down in the pride of
my strength. At the same time God has shown
his everlasting mercy by sending you to me in
the time of my sore need. And you have pro-
mised to stav with me until the end, which I feel
assured is not far off."

" I trust it may be/' said Cabot, " for the world
can ill afford to spare a man of your attain-
ments."

" The world has forgotten me ere this," replied
Mr. Balfour, with a faint smile, " and has also
managed to get along very well without me.
Whether it has or has not I feel that I am shortly
to rejoin my dear one."

" How did it happen? I mean your wound,"
asked Cabot, abruptly changing the subject.
" Was it an accident? "

" It may have been, but I believe not.
Dressed in wolf skins, I was creeping up on a
small herd of caribou two days ago, when I was
shot by some unknown person, probably an In-
dian hunting the same game, though I never saw
him. I managed to crawl home, and as I lay
here, filled with the horror of dying alone, the
ringing of my alarm bell announced a coming

IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)

:/.

5r ^ /^:/.

1.0

I.I

l&m& 12.5

^ m

us
u

lAO

IIIIM

2.0

1.8

1.25 1.4 III 1.6

M 6"

►

Photographic

Sciences

Corporation

23 WEST MAIN STR^V

WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580

(716) 872-4503

gt>^

^^ ^\ WrS

i>A"^

s .<^

268

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

1 ■'

of either man or beast. I found strength to turn
on the outer lights and to sound a call for aid
on my violin that I hoped would be heard and
understood."

" It was fortunate for me that you did both
those things," said Cabot, " for I should certainly
have remained where I fell after stumbling over
the wire if it had not been for the combination
of light and music. But tell me, sir, why have
you masqueraded as a man-wolf? "

" For convenience in hunting, as well as to in-
spire terror in the minds of savages and keep
them at a respectful distance from tliis place."
\ " Have they ever troubled you? "

" At first they were inclined to, but not of late
years."

" Not of late years ! Why, sir, how many
years have you dwelt in this place? "

" A little more than five."

" Five years alone and cut off from the world !
I should think you would feel like a prisoner shut
in a dungeon."

" !N"o, for I have led the life of my own choice,
and it has been full of active interests. I have
had to hunt, trap, and fish for my own support.
I have tried to redress some wrongs, and have
been able to relieve much distress among the
improvident natives. I have busied myself with
electrical experiments, and have explored the

THE MAN-WOLF'S STORY.

269

surrounding country for a hundred miles on all
sides."

"Have you discovered any indication: of
mineral wealth during your explorations?" asked
the young engineer, recalling his previous
thought on this subject.

" Quite a number, of which the most important
is right here; for this range of cliffs is so largely
composed of red hematite as to form one of the
richest ore beds in the world."

■ \

||:

IF:

CHAPTER XXVIII.

CABOT IS LEFT ALONE.

Deeply interested and affected as Cabot had
been by the electrician's story, his excitement
over its conclusion caused him momentarily to
forget everything else.

" Does the ore show anywheie about here? "
he asked eagerly.

" Yes. Lift one of the skins hanging against
the wall and you will find it. It is better, though,
in the lower portions of the inner cavern, for the
deeper you go the richer it gets."

In another moment our young engineer was
chipping bits of rock from the nearest wall, and
then he must need explore those of the store-
room, where, on a bank of the subterranean
stream, he found ore as rich as any he had ever
seen, even in museums. Returning with hands
and pockets full of specimens, he said:

" This is the very thing for which I came to
Labrador, but have thus far failed to find. Of
course I have discovered plenty of indications,
for the whole country is full of iron, but nowhere

CABOT IS LEFT ALONE.

271

else have I found it in quantity or of a quality
that would pay to work. Here you have both,
and close to a navigable waterway."

" On which the largest ships may moor to the
very cliffs," added Mr. Balfour.

" It means a fortune to the owner, and I con-
gratulate you, sir."

" My dear lad, I don't want it! I am an elec-
trician, not a miner. Even if I were inclined to
work it, which I am not, I should not be per-
mitted to do so, for my earthly interests are very
nearly ended. Therefore I cheerfully relinquish
in your favour whatever claim I may have ac-
quired by discovery or occupation. If you want
it, take it, and may God's blessing go with the
gift. Also, under this bed, you will find a bag
containing more specimens that may interest
you. Of them we will talk at another time, for
now I am weary."

With this the man turned his face to the wall,
while Cabot, securing the bag, quickly became
absorbed in an examination of its contents.
Among these he found rich specimens of iron and
copper ores, slabs of the rare and exquisitely
beautiful Labradorite, with its sheen of peacock-
blue, and even bits of gold-bearing quartz. For
a long time he examined and tested these ; then,
with a sigh of content, he laid them aside and
went to bed. His mission to Labrador was at

I..

272

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

^ '

length accomplished, and now he had only to
get back to New York as quickly as possible.

But getting to New York from that place,
under existing circumstances, was something in-
finitely easier to plan than to accomplish. To
begin with, he had promised to remain with the
new-found friend, who was also so greatly his
benefactor, so long as he should be needed, and
he meant to fulfil the promise to the letter. But
to do so taxed his patience to the utmost; for, in
spite of the electrician's belief that he had not
long to live, the passing of many weeks found
his condition but little changed. At the same
time, in spite of Cabot's best nursing and cease-
less attention, he failed to gain strength.

Having once broken his years of silence, he
now found his greatest pleasure in talking, and
Cabot had frequently to interrupt his conversa-
tion on the pretence of taking outside exercise,
to prevent him from exhausting himself in that
way. He hated to do this, for Mr. Balfour's
words were always instructive, and he so freely
yielded the established secrets of his profession,
as well as those of his own recent discoveries, to
his young friend that Ci^bot acquired a rich store
of valuable information during the short days
and long nights of that Labrador winter.

With the apparatus at hand, he was able to
conduct many experiments and put into practice

- 1>

CABOT IS LEFT ALONE.

278

a number of bis newly acquired tbeories. Tbe
sick man followed tbese witb keenest interest,
and aided his pupil with shreY>rd suggestions. At
other times they discussed the mineral wealth of
Labrador, and Mr. Balfour drew rough diagrams
to show localities from which his various speci-
mens had been brought. He also gave much
time to a sketch map of the surrounding country,
especially the coast between the place where the
" Sea Bee " had been left and Indian Harbour,
beyond which his knowledge did not extend.

With these congenial occupations, time never
hung heavily in the wilderness home of the Man-
wolf, and, though bitter cold might reign out-
side, fierce storms rage, and driving snows pile
themselves into mountainous drifts, neither hun-
ger nor cold could penetrate its snug interior,
warmed and lighted by the magic of modern
science. With the passing weeks the old year
died and a new one was born. January merged
into February, and days began noticeably to
lengthen. Through all these weeks Cabot kept
up his strength by frequent exercise in the open,
where, in conflict with storm and cold, he ever
won some part of their own ruggedness. At the
same time his patient grew slowly but surely
weaker, until at length he could converse only
in whispers, and experienced such difficulty in

swallowing that he had almost ceased to take
It

'§

i i '

S!|:

274

(?,

P-^i

* !

UNDER THE GREAT BEAK

nourishment. One evening while affairs stood
thus, he roused himself sufficiently to inquire
what day of the month it was.

" The thirteenth of February," replied Cabot,
who had kept careful note of the calendar.

Instantly the man brightened, and said, with
an unexpected strength of voice : " Six years to-
morrow since we were married. Five years to-
day since she left me, and to-night I shall rejoin
her. Wish me joy, lad, for the long period of
our separation is ended. Good-night, good-bye,
God bless you! "

With this final utterance he again lapsed into
silence, closed his eyes, and seemed to sleep.
Several times during that night Cabot stole softly
to his patient's bedside, but the latter was always
asleep, and he would not disturb him. Only in
the morning, when daylight revealed the marble-
like repose of feature, did he know that a glad
reunion of long parted lovers had been effected,
and that it was he who was left alone.

Although the position in which our lad now
found himself was a very trying one, he had an-
ticipated and planned for it. He had no boards
with which to make a coffin, but there was plenty
of stout canvas, and in a double thickness of this
he sewed the body of his friend. Before doing
so he dug away the snow beside a cairn of rocks
that marked the last resting place of her who

CABOT IS LEFT ALONE.

276

had gone before, and placed the electric heater,
with extended wire connections, on the ground
thus exposed. Within a few hours this soil be-
came sufficiently thawed to permit him to dig a
shallow grave, to which, by great effort, he man-
aged to remove the shrouded body. After cover-
ing it, and piling above it rocks as large as he
could lift, he returned to the empty dwelling,
having completed the hardest and saddest day's
work of his life.

So terrible was the loneliness of that night,
and so anxious was Cabot to take his departure,
that he was again astir long before daylight, com-
pleting his preparations. He had previously
built a light sled that he proposed to drag, and
had planned exactly what it should carry. Now
he loaded this with a canvas-wrapped package of
cooked provisions, a sleeping bag, a rifle to-
gether with a few rounds of ammunition, a light
axe, his precious bag of specimens, and the Man-
wolfs electric flashlight with its battery newly
charged.

With everything thus in readiness he ate a
hearty meal, threw the dynamo out of gear,
closed the door and shutters of the place that
had given him the shelter of a home, adjusted
the hauling straps of his sled, and set resolutely
forth on his venturesome journey across the
frozen wilderness.

i;l!l

276

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

In his mittened hands Cabot carried a stout
staff tipped with a boathook, and this proved of
inestimable service in aiding him down the face
of the cliffs to the frozen surface of the estuary;
for, by Mr. Balfour's advice, he had determined
to follow the coast line rather than attempt the
shorter but more uncertain inland route.

Although the distance to be covered was but
little over one hundred miles, the journey was;
so beset with difficulties and hardships that only
our yoimg engineer's splendid physical condition
and recently acquired skill, combined with in-
domitable pluck, enabled him to accomplish it.
While he sometimes met with smooth stretches
of snow-covered ice, it was generally piled in
huge wind-rows, incredibly rugged and difficult
to surmount. Again it would be broken away
from the base of sheer cliffs, where stretches of
open water would necessitate toilsome inland de-
tours over or around lofty headlands. He was
always buffetted by strong winds, and often
halted by blinding snowstorms. He had no fire,
no warm food, and no shelter save such as he
could make by burrowing into snowdrifts. Dur-
ing the weary hours of one whole night he held
a pack of snarling wolves at bay by means of his
flashlight. But always he pushed doggedly for-
ward, and after ten days of struggle, exhausted
almost beyond the power for further effort, but

CABOT IS LEFT ALONE.

277

immensely proud of his achievement, he reached
the goal of his long desire. ' '^

Indian Harbour — with its hospital, its church,
its two or three houses, and score of native huts,
seemed to our lad almost a metropolis after his
months of wilderness life, and the welcome he
received from its warm-hearted inhabitants when
he made known his identity was that of one
raised from the dead. White Baldwin and Yim
had been there many weeks earlier, and had re-
ported his disappearance under circumstances
that left no hope of his ever again being seen
alive. Then the latter had set forth on his re-
turn journey, while White had joined a mail
carrier and started for Battle Harbour.

Kow occurred w4iat promised to be a serious
interruption to Cabot's southward advance, for
no one was proposing to travel in that direction,
and, in spite of their hospitality, his new acquain-
tances were not inclined to undertake the ardu-
ous task of guiding him to Battle Harbour, 250
miles away, without being well paid for their
labour, and our young engineer had no money.
Nor, after his recent experience, did he care to
again encounter the perils of the wilderness
alone.

But fortune once more favoured him; for
while he was chafing against this enforced de-
tention, Dr. Graham Aspland, house surgeon of

I*'

I:: ' I

Pjf !

i ■ :

|i^;

278

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

I; &

the Battle Harbour Hospital, who makes a heroic
sledge journey to the far north every winter, ar-
rived on his annual errand of mercy. He would
set out on his return trip a few days later, and
would be more than pleased to have Cabot for a
companion.

Thus it happened that one bright day in early
March the music of sledge bells and the cracking
of a dog driver's whip attracted the inmates of
the Battle Harbour Hospital to doors pnd win-
dows to witness an arrival. Two fur-clad figures
followed a great travelling sledge, and one of
them dragged a small sled of his own. As he
came to a halt, and began wearily to loosen his
hauling gear, he cast a glance at one of the upper
windows, and uttered an exclamation of amaze-
ment. Then, with a joyful cry, he shouted:

"Hello! White, old man! Run down here
and say you're glad I've come I "

CHAPTER XXIX.

DBIFTINO WITH THE ICE PACK.

Cabot had learned from Dr. Asple ; 1 of
White's arrival at Battle Harbour two nonths
before, with a leg so badly wrenched ' > slippini?
rjto aTi i. e crevice that he had gone to tho hos-
r>ital for treatment, but had expected ihat he
would long ere this have taken his departure. At
the same time White had, of course, given up all
hope of ever again seeing the friend to whom he
had become so deeply attached. He had been
terribly cut up over Cabot's disappearance on
the night of the blizzard, and, with the faithful
Yim, had spent days in searching for him. They
had gone back to the timber, only to find the In-
dian camp deserted, and that its recent occupants
had made a hasty departure. Finally they had
given over the hopeless search and had sadly con-
tinued their southward journey.

Kow to again behold Cabot alive and well
filled poor White with such joyful amazement
that for some minutes he could not frame an in-
telligent sentence. He flew do^vn to v;here the

280

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

f'i

Mil

t ■ ■

i-f

I*'-;!

(::!

new arrival still struggled with his hauling gear,
and flung himself so impulsively upon him that
both rolled over in the snow. There, with gasp-
ing exclamations of delight, they wrestled them-
selves into a mood of comparative calmness that
enabled them to regain their feet and begin to
ask questions.

For some time White had been sufficiently re-
covered to resume his journey, had an oppor-
tunity offered for so doing, but, as none had come
to him, he had earned his board by acting as
nurse in the hospital. If he had been anxious to
depart before, he was doubly so now that he had
regained his comrade, and Cabot fully shared
his impatience of further delay. But how they
were to reach the coast of N^ewfoundland they
could not imagine. It would still be many weeks
before vessels of any kind could be expected at
Battle Harbour, and they had no money with
which to undertake the expensive journey by
way of Quebec.

" If only the ocean would freeze over, we could
walk home! " exclaimed Cabot one day, as the
two friends sat gloomily discussing their pros-
pects. And then that very thing came to pass.

A dog sledge arrived from Forteau, that same
evening, bringing a wounded man to the hospital
for treatment, and its driver reported the Strait
of Belle Isle as being so solidly packed with ice

DRIFTING WITH THE ICE PACK, 281

that several persons had traversed it from shore
to shore.

" If others have made the trip, why can't we? "
cried Cabot.

" I am willing to try it, if you are," replied
White, and by daylight of the following morning
the impatient lads were on their way up the coast
in search of the ice bridge to Newfoundland.
Cabot had traded his electric flashlight for a
supply of provisions sufficient to load his sled,
which they took turns at hauling, and four days
after leaving Battle Harbour they reached
L'Anse au Loup. At that point the strait is only
a dozen miles wide, and there, if anywhere, they
could cross it. It was midday when they came
to the winter huts of L'Anse au Loup, and they
had intended remaining in one of them over
night, but a short conversation with its owner
caused them to change their plans.

" Yas, there be solid pack clear to ither side all
right," he said, " but happen it '11 go out any
time. Fust change o' wind '11 loose it, and one's
to be looked for. Ah wouldn't resk it on no ac-
count mahself, but if Ah had it to do, Ah'd go in
a hurry 'ithout wasting no time."

" It is a case of necessity with us," said Cabot.

" Yes," a^'^eed White, " we simply must go,
and the quicker we set about it the better. If we
make haste I believe we can get across by dark."

f I (

282

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

Thus determined, and disregarding a further
expostulation from the fisherman, our lads set
their faces resolutely towards the confusion of
hummocks, " j^ans," floes tilted on edge, and up-
reared masses of blue ice forming the " strait's
pack " of that season. Five minutes later they
were lost to sight amid the frozen chaos.

" Wal," soliloquized the man left standing on
shore, " Ah 'opes they'll make it, but it's a fear-
some resk, an' Gawd 'elp 'em if come a shift o'
wind afore they're over."

Nothing, in all their previous experience of
Labrador travel, had equalled tne tumultuous
rtiggedness of the way by which Cabot and
White were now attempting to bridge that bois-
terous arm of the stormy northern ocean, and to
advance at all taxed their strength to the utmost.
To transport their laden sled was next to impos-
sible, but they dared not leave it behind, and with
their progress thus impeded they w^ere barely half
way to the Newfoundland coast when night over-
took them. Even though the gathering darkness
had not compelled a halt, their utter exhaustion
would have demanded a rest. For an hour White
had been obliged to clinch his teeth to keep from
crying oiTt with the pain of his weakened, and now
overstrained, ankle, and when Cabot announced
that it was no use trying to get further before
morning, he sank to the ice with a groan.

DRIFTING WITH THE ICE PACK. 283

Full of sympathy for his comrade's suffering,
the Yankee lad at once set to work to make him
as comfortable as circumstances would permit,
and soon had him lying on a sleeping bag, in a
niche formed by two uptilted slabs of ice. Pro-
fiting by past experience, they had procured and
brought with them an Eskimo lamp with its moss
wick, a small quantity of seal oil, and a supply of
matches, so that, after a while, Cabot procured
enough boiling water to furnish a small pot of
tea. When they had eaten their simple meal of
tea, hard bread, and pemmican. White's ankle
was bathed with water as hot as he could bear it,
and then the weary lads turned in for such sleep
as their cheerless quarters might yield. About
midnight the wind that had for many days blown
steadily from the eastward changed to north-
west, and, with the coming of daylight, it was
blowing half a gale from that direction.

To Cabot this change meant little or nothing,
and he was suggesting that they remain where
they were until White's leg should be thoroughly
rested, when the other interrupted him with:

" But we can't stay here. Don't you feel the
change of wind? "

" What of it? " asked Cabot.

" Oh, nothing at all, only that it will drive the
ice out to sea, and, if we haven't reached land
before it begins to move, we'll go T?ith it."

284

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

" You don't mean itl " cried Cabot, now thor-
oughly alarmed. " In that case we'd best get a
move on in a hurry. Do you think your leg will
stand the trip? "

"It will have to," rejoined White, grimly;
and a few minutes later they had resumed the
toilsome progress that was now a race for life.
But it was a snail's race, for the task of moving
the sled had devolved entirely upon Cabot,
White having all he could do to drag himself
along. Each step gave him such exquisite pain
that, by the time they had accomplished a
couple of miles, he was crawling on hands and
knees.

Still, as Cabot hopefully pointed out, the !N'ew-
foundland coast was in plain sight, and the ice
held as firm as ever. He had hardly spoken
when there came a distant roaring, that quickly
developed into a sound of crashing and grinding
not to be mistaken.

" The iee is moving! " gasped White.

" Then," said Cabot bravely, " we'll move too.
Come on, old man. We'll leave the sled, and
I'll get you ashore even if I have to carry you.
It isn't so very far now."

With this the speaker disengaged his hauling
straps and turned to assist his comrade, but, to
his dismay, the latter lay on the ice pale and mo-
tionless. What with pain, over-exertion, and ex-

DRIFTING WITH THE ICE PACK. 285

citr^ent, White had fainted, and Cabot must
either carry him to the shore, remain beside him
until he recovered, or leave him to his fate and
save himself by flight over the still unbroken ice.
He tried the first plan, picked White up, stag-
gered a few steps with his helpless burden, and
discovered its futility. Then he proceeded to
put the second into execution by calmly unload-
ing the sled and making such arrangements as
his slender means would allow for his comrade's
comfort. The third plan came to him merely
as a thought, to be promptly dismissed as un-
worthy of consideration.

In the meantime the ominous sounds of crack-
ing, grinding, rending, and splitting grew ever
louder, and came ever closer, until, at length,
Cabot could see and feel that the ice all about
him was in motion. By the time White recov-
ered consciousness, a broad lane of black water
had opened between that place and the New-
foundland coast, while others could be seen in
various directions.

" What are you doing? " asked White, feebly,
after he had struggled back to a knowledge of
passing events, and had, for some minutes, been
watching his friend's movements.

" Building an igloo," answered Cabot, cheer-
ily. " We might as well be comfortable while
we can, and though my hut won't have the archi-

if:"'

IS:"'

i;r

,1' )•'

i'1

286

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

tectural beauty that Yim could give it, I believe
it will keep us waiin." v

It would have been more than easy, and per-
fectly natural, under the circumstances, to give
way to utter despair; for of the several hopeless
situations in which our lads had been placed dur-
ing the past few months, the present was, by far,
the worst. At any moment the ice beneath them
might open and drop them into fathomless
waters. Even if it held fast, they were certainly
being carried out to sea, where they would be ex-
posed to furious gales that must ultimately work
their destruction. In spite of all this, Cabot
Grant insisted on remaining hopefully cheerful.
He said he had squeezed out of just as tight
places before, and believed he would get out of
this one somehow. At any rate, as crying
wouldn't help it, he wasn't going to cry. Besides
all sorts of things might happen. They might
drift ashore somewhere or into the track of pass-
ing steamers. Wouldn't it be fine to be picked
up and carried straight to New York? If
steamers failed them, they were almost certain
to sight fishing boats sooner or later.

"Yes," added White, catching some of his
companion's hopefulness, " or we may meet with
the sealers who leave St. Johns about this time
every year and hunt seals on the ice pack off
shore."

■ii

DRIFTING WITH THE ICE PACK.

I
287

" Of course," agreed the other. " So what's
the use of worrying? " / > r,

In spite of the brave front and cheerful aspect
that Cabot maintained before his helpless com-
rade, he often broke down when off by himself,
vainly straining his eyes from the summit of some
ice hummock for any hopeful sign, and acknowl-
edged that their situation was indeed desperate.

That first night, spent sleeplessly and in mo-
mentary expectation that the ice beneath them
would break, was the worst. After that they
dreaded more than anything the fate that would
overtake them with the disappearance of their
slender stock of provisions. While this dimin-
ished with alarming rapidity, despite their efforts
at economy, their ice island drifted out from the
strait, and soon afterwards became incorporated
with the great Arctic pack that always in the
spring forces its resistless way steadily southward
towards the melting waters of the Gulf Stream.

Land had disappeared with the second day of
the ice movement, and after that, for a week,
nothing occurred to break the terrible monotony
of life on the pack, as experienced by our young
castaways. Then came the dreaded announce-
ment that one portion of their supplies was ex-
hausted. There was no longer a drop of oil for
their lamp.

;.■■
I

CHAPTER XXX.

THE COMING OF DAVID OIDOB. ^

White, who was still confined to the hut with
his strained ankle, announced that they no longer
had any oil upon Cabot's return at dusk from a
day of fruitless hunting and outlook duty on the
ice.

" That's bad," replied the latter, in a tone
whose cheerfulness strove to conceal his anxiety.
" Now we'll have to burn the sled. Lucky thing
for us that it's of wood instead of being one of
those bone aflFairs such as we saw at Locked Har-
bour."

" Our provisions are nearly gone too," added
White. "In fact we've only enough for one
more day."

" Oh, welir A lot of things can happen in a
day, and some of them may happen to us."

But the only thing worthy of note that hap-
pened on the following day was a storm of such
violence as to compel even stout-hearted Cabot
to remain behind the sheltering walls of the hut,
and, while it raged, our shivering lads, crouched

THE COMING OF DAVID GIDGE, 289

above a tiny blaze of sled wood, ate their last
morsel of food. They still had a small quantity
of tea, but that was all. As soon, therefore, as
the storm abated Cabot sallied forth with his gun,
still hopeful, in spite of many disappointments,
of finding some bird or beast that, by a lucky
shot, might be brought to the table.

The ice pack was of such vast extent that it
seemed as though it must support animal life
of some kind, but Cabot traversed it that day
for many miles without finding so much as a
track or a feather. That night's supper was a
pot of tea, and a similar one formed the sole
nourishment upon which Cabot again set forth
the next morning for another of those weary
hunts.

This time he went further from the hut than
he had dared go on previous expeditions; but on
them he had been hopeful and knew that even
though he failed in his hunting he would still find
food awaiting him on his return. Now he was
desperate with hunger, and the knowledge that
failing in his present effort he would not have
strength for another. In his mind, too, he car-
ried a vivid picture of poor White, crouching in
that wretched hut over an expiring blaze fed by
the very last of their wood.

"I simply can't go back empty-handed! " he
cried aloud. " It would be better not to go back
19

■■

! ;

^,i':t

290

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

at all, and let him hope for my coming to the
last* \\

So the young hunter pushed wearily and hope-
lessly on, until he found himself at the foot of
a line of icebergs that had been frozen into the
pack, where they resembled a range of fantas-
tically shaped hills. Cabot had seen them from
a distance on a previous expedition, and had won-
dered what lay beyond. l!^ow he determined
to find out, though he knew if he once crossed
them there would be little chance of regaining
the hut before dark. It was a laborious climb,
and several times he slid back to the place of
starting, but each mishap of this kind only made
him the more determined to gain the top. At
length, breathless and bruised, crawling on hand^
and knees, he reached a point from which he
could look beyond the barrier. As he did so, he
turned sick and uttered a choking cry.

What he saw in that first glance was so utterly
incredible that it could not be true, though if it
Avere it would be the most welcome and beautiful
sight in all the world. Yet it was only a ship!
Just one ship and a lot of men! The ship was
not even a handsome one, being merely a three-
masted steam sealer, greasy and smeared in every
part with coal soot from her tall smoke stack.
She lay a mile or so away, but well within the
pack, through the outer edge of which she had

g to the

nd hope-
s foot of
into the
P fantas-
3m from
lad won-
ermined
crossed
jgaining
s climb,
place of
ly made
op. At
)n hand^
hich he
id so, he

) utterly
igh if it
eautiful
a ship!
ihip was
a three-
in every
e stack.
:hiii the
she had

THE COMING OF DAVID QIDQE, 293

forced a passage. The men, evidently her crew,
who were on the ice near the foot of Cabot's
ridge, were a disreputable looking lot, ragged,
dirty, unkempt, and as bloody as so many butch-
ers. And that is exactly what they were —
butchers engaged in their legitiaiate business of
killing the seals that, coming up from the south
to meet the drifting ice pack, had crawled out on
it by thousands to rear their young.

This >vas all that Cabot saw; yet the sight so
affected him that he laughed and sobbed for joy.
Then he stood up, and, with glad tears blinding
his eyes, tried to shout to the men beneath him,
but could only utter hoarse whispers; for, in his
overpowering happiness, he had almost lost the
power of speech. As he could not call to them
he began to wave his arms to attract their atten-
tion, and then, all at once, he was nearly para-
lysed by a hail from close at hand of:

" Hello there, ye bloomin' idjit! Wot's hup^ "

Whirling around, Cabot saw, standing only a
few rods away, a man who had evidently just
climbed the opposite side of the ridge. He rec-
ognised him in an instant, as he must have done
had he met him in the most crowded street of a
great city, so distinctively peculiar w^as his figure.

" David ! David Gidge ! " he gasped, recover-
ing his voice for the effort, and in another mo
ment, flinging his arms about the astonished

U 'i

!•

m ' •■

; i i - I

^'i ■
if: \

li: i

■li

294

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

mariner's neck, he was pouring out a flood of
incoherent words.

" Wal, I'll be jiggered I " remarked Mr. Gidge,
as he disengaged himself from Cabot's impulsive
embrace and stepped back for a more compre-
hensive view. " Your voice sounds familiar,
Mister, but I can't say as I ever seen you be-
fore. I took ye fust off f er a b'ar, and then f er a
Huskie. When I seen you was white, I 'lowed
ye might be one of the ' Mannaid's ' crew, see-
ing as she was heading fer the pack 'bout the time
we struck it. Now, though, as I say, I'm jig-
gered ef I know exectly who ye be."

"Why, Mr. Gidge, I'm Cabot Grant,
who "

" Of course. To be sartin ! Now I know ye ! "
interrupted the other. "But w'here's White?
What hev ye done with White way Baldwin? "

" He's back there on the ice helpless with a
crippled leg, freezing and starving to death; but
if you'll come at once I'll show you the way, and
we may still be in time to save him."

With instant comprehension of the necessity
for prompt action, Mr. Gidge, who, as Cabot
afterwards learned, was first mate of the sealer
" Labrador," turned and shouted in stentorian
tones to the men who were working below:

" Knock off, all hands, and follow me. Form
a line and keep hailing distance apart, so's we'll

THE COMING OF DAVID OIDQE. 296

find our way back after dark. There's white
men starving on the ice. One of ye go to the
ship and report. Move lively! Now, lad, I'm
ready."

Two hours later Cabot and David Gidge, with
a long line of men streaming out behind them,
reached the little hut. There was no answer to
the cheery shouts with which they approached it,
and, as they crawled through its low entrance,
they were filled with anxious misgivings. What
if they were too late after all? No spark of fire
lighted the gloom or took from the deadly chill
of the interior, and no voice bade them welcome.
But, as David Gidge struck a match, a low moan-
ing sounded from one side, and told them that
White was at least alive.

It took but a minute to remove him from the
hut, together with the few things worth taking
away that it contained. Then it was left without
a shadow of regret, and the march to the distant
ship was begun. Four men carried White, who
seemed to have sunk into a stupor, while two
more supported Cabot, who had become suddenly
weak and so weary that he begged to be allowed
to sleep where he was.

" It's been a close call for both of 'em," said
David Gidge, " and now, men, we've got to make
the quickest kind of time getting 'em back to
the ship."

Mi!
!h!

!I
It

imt^ pj tf < ^1 11

II h

:^f

^rii

396

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

Fortunately there were plenty of willing hands
to which the burdens might be shifted, for the
'^ Labrador " carried a crew two hundred strong,
and, as the little party moved swiftly from one
shouting man to another, it constantly gained
accessions.

At length the sealer was reached, and the res-
cued lads were taken to her cabin, where the
ship's doctor, having made every possible prepa-
ration for their reception, awaited them. They
were given hot drinks, rubbed, fed, and placed
between warm blankets, where poor, weary Ca-
bot was at last allowed to fall asleep without fur-
ther interruption.

The animal sought by the sealers of New-
foundland amid the furious storms and crashing
floes of the great ice pack is not the fur-bearing
seal of Alaska, but a variety of the much less im-
portant hair seal, which may be seen almost any-
where along the Atlantic coast. From its skin
seal leather is made, but it is chiefly valuable for
the oil yielded by the layer of fat lying directly
beneath the skin and enveloping the entire body.
These seals w^ould hardly be worth hunting un-
less they could be captured easily and in quanti-
ties; but, on their native ice in early spring, the
young seals are found in prime condition and in
vast numbers. Each helpless victim is killed by
a blow on the head, " sculped " or stripped of his

THE COMING OF DAVID GIDGE. 297

pelt, and the flayed body is left lying in a pool of
its own blood.

The crew of a single vessel will thus destroy
thousands of seals in a day, and in some pros-
peroi^s years the total kill of seals has passed the
half million mark. Now only about a dozen
steamers are engaged in the business, but by
them from 200,000 to 300,000 seals are de-
stroyed each spring. The movements of sealing
vessels are governed by rigidly enforced laws that
forbid them to leave port before the 12th of
March, to kill a seal before the 14th of the same
month, or after the 20th of April, and prohibit
any steamer from making more than one trip
during this short open season. The crews are
paid in shares of the catch, and men are never
difficult to obtain for the work, as the sealing
season comes when there is nothing else to be
done.

As March was not yet ended when our lads
were received aboard the "Labrador," and as
she would not return to port until the last minute
of the open season had expired, they had before
them nearly a month in which to recover their
exhausted energies and learn the business of seal-
ing. White had suffered so severely, and
reached such a precarious condition, that he re-
quired every day of the allotted time for recu-
peration, and even at its end his strength was by

ii i

*;■ I ■

298

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

no means fully restored. Cabot, on the other
hand, woke after a thirty-six-hour nap, raven-
ously hungry, and as fit as ever for anything that
might offer. After that, although he could never
bring himself to assist in clubbing baby seals to
death, he took an active part in the other work
of the ship, thereby fully repaying the cost of the
food eaten by himself and White.

Of course, with their very first opportunity,
both lads eagerly plied David Gidge with ques-
tions concerning the welfare of the Baldwin fam-
ily and everything that had happened during
their long absence. Thus they learned to their
' dismay that another suit had been brought
against the Baldwin estate that threatened to
swallow what little property had been left, and
that White, having been convicted of contempt
of court for continuing the lobster factory after
an adverse decision had been rendered, was now
liable to a fine of one thousand dollars, or im-
prisonment, as soon as he landed.

" But what has become of my mother and sis-
ter? " asked White.

"They are in Harbour Grace," answered David
Gidge, " stopping with some kin of mine. You
see, all three of us was brung to St. Johns as wit-
nesses, and there wasn't money enough to take
us back till I could come sealing and make some."

" You are a trump, David Gidge I " exclaimed

»;

h XK

THE COMING OF DAVID QIDQE, 299

Cabot, while White gratefully squeezed the hon-
est fellow's hand. / '

" I promised to look arter 'em till you come
back," said the sailorman, simply.

At length the sealing season closed, and the
prow of the " Labrador " was turned homeward,
but even now, after many an anxious discussion,
our lads were undecided as to what they should
do upon landing. But a solution of the problem
came to Cabot on the day that the steamer en-
tered Conception Bay and anchored close off Bell
Island, to await the moving of a great ice mass
that had drifted into the harbour.

" I know what we'll do I " he cried.

' 1

CHAPTER XXXI.

ASSISTANT MANAGER OF THE MAN-WOLF MINE.

As the deeply laden sealer drew near to land,
Cabot had impatiently scanned the coast of the
great island that he had once thought so remote,
but which, after his long sojourn in tl'^ Labrador
wilderness, now seemed almost the same as I^ew
York itself. When the " Labrador " entered
Conception Bay, at the head of which lies Har-
bour Grace, her home port, and was forced by
ice to anchor, he inquired concerning a small
island that lay close at hand.

" Bell Island," he repeated meditatively, on
being told its name. " Isn't there an iron mine
on it? "

" Sartain," replied David Gidge. " The whole
island is mostly made of iron."

" Then it is a place that I particularly want to
visit, and I know what we will do. Of course.
White, we can't let you go to prison, but at the
same time you haven't, immediately available,
the money with which to pay that fine. I have,
though, right in St. Johns. So, if you will en-

1 y,

ASSISTANT MANAGER OF THE MINE. 301

dorse that New York draft to me, I will carry-
it into the city, deposit it at the bank, draw out
the cash, and take the first train for Harbour
Grace, so as to be there with more than enough
money to pay your fine when you arrive. After
that I propose that we both go on to l^ew York,
where I am almost certain I can get you some-
thing to do that will pay even better than a lob-
ster factory. If that plan strikes you as all right,
and if Mr. Gidge will set me ashore here, I'll just
take a look at Bell Island and then hurry on to
St. Johns."

The plan appearing feasible to White, Cabot
— taking with him only his bag of specimens, to
which he intended to add others of the Bell
Island ore — bade his friends a temporary fare-
well, and was set ashore. As the country was still
covered with snow, he had slung his snowshoes
on his back, and as he was still clad in the well-
worn fur garments that had been so necessary in
Labrador, his appearance was sufficiently striking
to attract attention as soon as he landed. One of
the very first persons who spoke to him proved to
be the young superintendent of the mine he
wished to visit, and, when this gentleman learned
that Cabot had just returned from Labrador, he
offered him every hospitality. Not only did he
show him over the mine and give him all possible
information concerning it, but he kept him over

J-

302

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

si '

I.
I,

night in his own bachelor quarters, and provided
a boat to take him across to Portugal Cove on
the mainland in the morning.

From that point, there being no conveyance,
Cabot was forced to walk the nine miles into St.
Johns, which city he did not reach until nearly
noon. Even there, where fur-clad Arctic ex-
plorers are not uncommon, Cabot's costume at-
tracted much attention. Disregarding this, he
inquired his way to the Bank of Nova Scotia,
where he presented the letter of credit that he
had carefully treasured amid all the vicissitudes
of the past ten months. The paying teller of the
bank examined it closely, and then took a long
look at the remarkable-appearing young man who
had presented it. Finally he said curtly:

" Sign your name."

Cabot did so, and the other, after comparing
the two signatures, retired to an inner room.
From it he reappeared a few moments later and
requested Cabot to follow him inside, where the
manager wished to see him.

The manager also regarded our lad with great
curiosity as he said :

"You have retained this letter a long time
without presenting it."

" And I might have retained it longer if I had
not been in need of money," rejoined Cabot,
somewhat nettled by the man's manner.

ASSISTANT MANAGER OF THE MINE. 303

" You are Cabot Grant of New York? "

"lam."

"Not yet of age?"

" Not quite."

" And you have a guardian? "

"I have."

" Do you mind telling his name and address? "

" Is that a necessary preliminary to drawing
money on a letter of credit? "

" In this case it is."

" Well, then, he is James Hepburn, President
of the Gotham Trust and Investment Company."

" Just so, and you will doubtless be interested
in this communication from him."

So saying, the manager handed over the tele-
gram in which Mr. Hepburn instructed the St.
Johns branch of the Bank of Nova Scotia to ad-
vance only the price of a ticket to New York on
a letter of credit that would be presented by his
ward, Cabot Grant.

" What does it mean? " asked Cabot in bewil-
derment, as he finished reading this surprising
order.

" I've no idea," replied the manager dryly.
" I only know that we are bound to follow those
instructions, and can let you have but forty dol-
lars, which is the price of a first-class ticket to
New York by steamer. Moreover, as this is
sailing day, and the New York steamer leaves in

♦

If!" t

304

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

a couple of hours, I would advise you to engage
passage and go on board at once, if you do not
want to be indefinitely detained here."

"In what way?"

" Possibly by the sheriff, who has wanted you
for some time in connection with a certain
French Shore lobster case that the government is
prosecuting."

Perplexed and indignant as he was, Cabot real-
ised that only in New York co? ild his tangled af-
fairs be straightened out, and that the quicker he
got there the better. Determined, however, to
make one more effort in behalf of his friend, he
produced the missionary's draft and asked if the
manager would cash it.

" Certainly not," replied that individual
promptly. " Under present circumstances, Mr.
Grant, we must decline to have any business deal-
ings with you other than to accept your receipt
for forty dollars, which will be paid you in the
outer oflice."

So Cabot swallowed his pride, took what he
could get, and left the bank a little more down-
cast than he had been at any time since the day
on which President Hepburn had entrusted him
with his present mission.

" I don't understand it at all," he muttered to
himself, as he sought an eating-house, where he
proposed to expend a portion of his money in sat-

ASSISTANT MANAGER OF THE MINE. 305

isfying his keen appetite. " Seems to me it is a
mighty mean return for all I have gone through,
and Mr. Hepburn will have to explain matters
pretty clearly when I get back to New York."

From the eating-house Cabot sent a letter to
White, explaining his inability to secure the
money he had expected, begging him to lie low
for a few days, and announcing his own imme-
diate departure for New York, from which place
he promised to send back the amount of the draft
immediately upon his arrival. In this letter
Cabot also enclosed fifteen dollars, just to help
White out until he could send him some more
money. This outlay left our young engineer but
twenty-five dollars, but that would pay for a
steerage passage, which, he reflected, would be
plenty good enough for one in his reduced cir-
cumstances, and leave a few dollars for emer-
gencies when he reached New York.

Two hours later, still clutching the bag of
specimens that now formed his sole luggage, he
stood on the forward deck of the steamer " Ama-
zon " as she slipped through the narrow passage
leading out from the land-locked harbour, gazing
back at the city of St. Johns climbing its steep
hillside and dominated by the square towers of
its Roman Catholic cathedral. He was feeling
very forlorn and lonely, and was wondering how
he should manage to exist on steerage fare in
20

806

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

steerage company during the next five days,
when a familiar voice, close at hand, said :

" Hello, young man in furs I Where do you
come from? Been to the North Pole with
Peary? "

Turning quickly, Cabot gasped out:

" Captain Phinney! "

" No, not cap'n, but second mate Phinney,"
retorted the other. " But how do you know my
name? I don't recognise you."

" I am Cabot Grant, who was with you on the
* Lavinia ' when—

" Good heavens, man! It can't be."

" It is, though, and I never was more glad to
see any one, not even David Gidge, than I am to
see you at this minute. But why are you second
mate instead of captain? "

" Because," replied the other bitterly, " it was
the only berth they would give me after I lost
my ship, and I had to take it or beg."

" But I thought you went down with the
^Lavinia'?"

*' So I thought yo'i did, but it seems both of
us were mistaken. All but you got off in two
of the boats, and ours was picked up the next day
by a liner bound for New York. But how, in
the name of all that is wonderful — Hold on,
though. Let us go up to my room, where we can
talk comfortably.'

ASSISTANT MANAGER OF THE MINE. 307

As a result of this happy meeting, Cabot's
voyage was made very pleasant after all. Much
as he had to tell and to hear, he also found time
to write out a full report on the Bell Island mine,
and also a series of notes concerning the ore speci-
mens that he was carrying to New York.

At length the great city was reached, the
" Amazon " was made fast to her Brooklyn pier,
and Cabot went to bid the second mate good-bye.
" Hold on a bit," said the latter, " and run up to
the house with me. You can't go without seeing
Nelly and the baby."

"Nice calling rig IVe got on, haven't I?"
laughed Cabot. " Why, it would scare 'em stiff.
So not to-day, thank you; but I'll come to-
morrow."

The carriage that Cabot engaged to carry him
across to the city cost him his last cent of money,
but he knew it was well worth it when, still in
furs and with his snowshoes still strapped to his
back, he entered the Gotham building. Such a
sensation did he create that he would have been
mobbed in another minute had he not dodged
into an elevator and said :

" President's room, please."

He so petrified Mr. Hepburn's clerks and office
boys by his remarkable appearance that they ,
neglected to check his progress, and allowed him
to walk unchallenged into the sacred private of-

I'}

308

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

'-¥'

:,'^

;i'l

(

i!'

fice. Its sole occupant w?.3 writing, and did not
notice the entrance until Cabot, laying a folded
paper on liis desk, said :

" Here is that Bell Island report, Mr. Hep-
burn."

The startled man sprang to his feet with a face
as pale as though he had seen a ghost, and for
a few moments stared in speechless amazement
at the fur-clad intruder. Then the light of recog-
nition flashed into his eyes, and holding out a cor-
dial hand he said :

" My dear boy, how you frightened me !
Where on earth did you come from? "

" From the steerage of the steamer * Ama-
zon,' " replied Cabot, stiffly, ignoring his guar-
dian's proffered hand. " I only dropped in to
hand you that Bell Island report, and to say that,
as this happens to be my twenty-first birthday, I
shall be pleased to receive whatever of my pro-
perty you may still hold in trust at your earliest
convenience. With that business transr.cted, it
is perhaps needless to add, that I shall trouble no
further the man who was cruel enough to leave
me penniless among strangers/'

" Cabot, are you crazy, or what do you mean?
I received your Bell Island report months ago,
and it was that caused me to recall you. Why
did you not come at once? "

" I never sent a Bell Island report. In fact

i ■

13 CO

'my DKAR noY, YOU IIAVK DONR SPLENDinLY,

fact

ASSISTANT MANAGER OF THE MINE. 311

I never wrote one until yesterday, and there it
lies. Nor did I ever receive any notice of recall,
and I did not come back sooner because I have
been following your instructions and wintering
in Labrador. There I have acquired one of the
most remarkable iron properties in the world,
which I intend to develop as far as possible with
my own resources, seeing that not one cent of
your money has been used in defraying the ex-
penses of my recent trip," replied Cabot, hotly.

But Mr. Hepburn did not hear the last of this
speech, for he had opened the report laid on iiis
desk and was glancing rapidly through it.

" This is exactly what I expected and wanted ! "
he exclaimed. " Why didn't you send it in be-
fore, instead of that other one ? "

" I never sent any other," repeated Cabot, and
then they sat down to mutual explanations.

For that whole morning President Hepburn
denied himseK to all callers and devoted his en-
dre attention to Cabot's recital. When it was
linished, and when the bag full of specimens had
loen. examined, the elder man grasped the other's
hand and said:

" My dear boy, you have done splendidly! I
am not only satisfied with you as an agent, but
am proud of you as a ward. Yes, this is your
day of freedom from our guardianship, and I
shall take pleasure in turning over to you the

312

UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.

r. !

9* '

balance of the property left by your father. It,
together with the balance remaining on your let-
ter of credit, and your salary for the past year,
will amount to about ten thousand dollars, a por-
tion of w hich at least I would advise you to invest
in the Man- wolf mine."

" Then you intend to develop it, sir? " cried
Cabot.

" Cci ! ' ' ■) provided we can acquire your
claim to t^j property, and engage a certain Mr.
Cabot Grant to act as our assistant Labrador
manager."

" Do you think me capable of filling so respon-
sible a position, sir? "

" I am convinced of it," replied Mr. Hepburn,
smiling.

" And may I find places for White, and David
Gfdge, and Captain Phinney, and "

" One of the duties of your new position will
be the selection of your subordinates," inter-
rupted the other, " and I should hope you would
give preference to those whose fidelity you have
already tested."

Within an hour after this happy conclusion of
the interview, Cabot had wired White Baldwin
the full amount of the missionary's draft and in-
vited him to come as quickly as possible to New
York. He had also written to Captain Phinney
asking him to resign at once his position as second

i:j'

ASSISTANT MANAGER OF THE MINE,

313

mate, in order that he might assume command
of a steamer shortly to be put on a run between
New York and Labrador.

With these pleasant duties performed, our
young engineer prepared to accept President
Hepburn's invitation to a dinner that was to be
given in his honour, and with which the happiest
day of his life was to be concluded.

The End.