Citation
Ungava

Material Information

Title:
Ungava a tale of Esquimau land
Series Title:
R.M. Ballantyne's Books for boys
Creator:
Ballantyne, R. M. (Robert Michael), 1825-1894
Thomas Nelson & Sons ( Publisher )
Place of Publication:
London
Edinburgh
New York
Publisher:
T. Nelson & Sons
Publication Date:
Language:
English
Edition:
New ed.
Physical Description:
393, [6] p., [2] leaves of plates : col. ill. ; 20 cm.

Subjects

Subjects / Keywords:
Youth -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Eskimos -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Outdoor life -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Fur traders -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Survival skills -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Adventure and adventurers -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Voyages and travels -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Natural history -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Juvenile fiction -- Hudson Bay ( lcsh )
Bldn -- 1895
Genre:
novel ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage:
England -- London
Scotland -- Edinburgh
United States -- New York -- New York
Target Audience:
juvenile ( marctarget )

Notes

General Note:
Added color title page.
Statement of Responsibility:
by Robert Michael Ballantyne.

Record Information

Source Institution:
University of Florida
Rights Management:
This item is presumed to be in the public domain. The University of Florida George A. Smathers Libraries respect the intellectual property rights of others and do not claim any copyright interest in this item. Users of this work have responsibility for determining copyright status prior to reusing, publishing or reproducing this item for purposes other than what is allowed by fair use or other copyright exemptions. Any reuse of this item in excess of fair use or other copyright exemptions may require permission of the copyright holder. The Smathers Libraries would like to learn more about this item and invite individuals or organizations to contact The Department of Special and Area Studies Collections (special@uflib.ufl.edu) with any additional information they can provide.
Resource Identifier:
002391178 ( ALEPH )
ALZ6067 ( NOTIS )
221898528 ( OCLC )

Downloads

This item has the following downloads:

UF00083396_00001.pdf

UF00083396_00001.txt

00006.txt

00265.txt

00199.txt

00399.txt

00409.txt

00206.txt

00026.txt

00047.txt

00080.txt

00410.txt

00415.txt

00288.txt

00058.txt

00339.txt

00372.txt

00105.txt

00060.txt

00054.txt

00092.txt

00282.txt

00233.txt

00280.txt

00051.txt

00269.txt

00177.txt

00380.txt

00231.txt

00263.txt

00252.txt

00055.txt

00061.txt

00320.txt

00153.txt

00162.txt

00137.txt

00205.txt

00253.txt

00392.txt

00296.txt

00183.txt

00067.txt

00142.txt

00181.txt

00237.txt

00037.txt

00326.txt

00290.txt

00381.txt

00262.txt

00033.txt

00215.txt

00100.txt

00358.txt

00224.txt

UF00083396_00001_pdf.txt

00291.txt

00096.txt

00145.txt

00335.txt

00388.txt

00308.txt

00108.txt

00316.txt

00338.txt

00333.txt

00174.txt

00317.txt

00062.txt

00002.txt

00336.txt

00112.txt

00146.txt

00243.txt

00076.txt

00057.txt

00378.txt

00293.txt

00359.txt

00148.txt

00373.txt

00182.txt

00158.txt

00087.txt

00371.txt

00066.txt

00186.txt

00402.txt

00073.txt

00075.txt

00267.txt

00279.txt

00343.txt

00367.txt

00194.txt

00385.txt

00127.txt

00398.txt

00235.txt

00027.txt

00063.txt

00387.txt

00315.txt

00270.txt

00352.txt

00114.txt

00221.txt

00091.txt

00071.txt

00120.txt

00059.txt

00223.txt

00136.txt

00259.txt

00284.txt

00150.txt

00303.txt

00386.txt

00341.txt

00330.txt

00042.txt

00012.txt

00201.txt

00360.txt

00156.txt

00125.txt

00023.txt

00350.txt

00167.txt

00039.txt

00218.txt

00122.txt

00258.txt

00368.txt

00408.txt

00163.txt

00255.txt

00407.txt

00256.txt

00133.txt

00210.txt

00072.txt

00081.txt

00382.txt

00020.txt

00318.txt

00274.txt

00038.txt

00322.txt

00268.txt

00309.txt

00213.txt

00250.txt

00356.txt

00188.txt

00179.txt

00403.txt

00379.txt

00193.txt

00383.txt

00390.txt

00151.txt

00327.txt

00101.txt

00011.txt

00238.txt

00277.txt

00190.txt

00285.txt

00160.txt

00034.txt

00083.txt

00377.txt

00311.txt

00157.txt

00143.txt

00024.txt

00405.txt

00110.txt

00093.txt

00354.txt

00117.txt

00247.txt

00234.txt

00152.txt

00310.txt

00184.txt

00022.txt

00204.txt

00119.txt

00189.txt

00168.txt

00328.txt

00111.txt

00154.txt

00248.txt

00207.txt

00019.txt

00289.txt

00203.txt

00251.txt

00126.txt

00135.txt

00283.txt

00172.txt

00363.txt

00191.txt

00396.txt

00170.txt

00220.txt

00246.txt

00169.txt

00299.txt

00070.txt

00032.txt

00374.txt

00337.txt

00411.txt

00138.txt

00068.txt

00342.txt

00241.txt

00323.txt

00294.txt

00107.txt

00217.txt

00346.txt

00128.txt

00140.txt

00212.txt

00355.txt

00064.txt

00035.txt

00095.txt

00200.txt

00264.txt

00271.txt

00090.txt

00196.txt

00312.txt

00016.txt

00222.txt

00116.txt

00118.txt

00005.txt

00103.txt

00304.txt

00208.txt

00166.txt

00394.txt

00301.txt

00197.txt

00017.txt

00139.txt

00178.txt

00097.txt

00321.txt

00050.txt

00397.txt

00121.txt

00085.txt

00195.txt

00018.txt

00227.txt

00307.txt

00098.txt

00209.txt

00414.txt

00113.txt

00052.txt

00375.txt

00144.txt

00084.txt

00347.txt

00069.txt

00245.txt

00134.txt

00239.txt

00088.txt

00187.txt

00362.txt

00240.txt

00349.txt

00292.txt

00357.txt

00393.txt

00370.txt

00286.txt

00353.txt

00287.txt

00029.txt

00257.txt

00391.txt

00175.txt

00226.txt

00272.txt

00074.txt

00254.txt

00249.txt

00132.txt

00077.txt

00300.txt

00219.txt

00041.txt

00236.txt

00053.txt

00340.txt

00164.txt

00198.txt

00229.txt

00332.txt

00401.txt

00104.txt

00185.txt

00115.txt

00078.txt

00149.txt

00141.txt

00324.txt

00131.txt

00021.txt

00028.txt

00348.txt

00216.txt

00275.txt

00331.txt

00031.txt

00009.txt

00230.txt

00276.txt

00295.txt

00281.txt

00046.txt

00329.txt

00298.txt

00344.txt

00278.txt

00266.txt

00366.txt

00364.txt

00384.txt

00147.txt

00297.txt

00413.txt

00376.txt

00044.txt

00013.txt

00228.txt

00319.txt

00389.txt

00001.txt

00109.txt

00225.txt

00099.txt

00345.txt

00102.txt

00180.txt

00040.txt

00361.txt

00129.txt

00313.txt

00094.txt

00159.txt

00302.txt

00014.txt

00086.txt

00242.txt

00232.txt

00305.txt

00130.txt

00049.txt

00079.txt

00048.txt

00165.txt

00306.txt

00211.txt

00123.txt

00334.txt

00065.txt

00261.txt

00106.txt

00214.txt

00365.txt

00369.txt

00015.txt

00314.txt

00056.txt

00192.txt

00045.txt

00161.txt

00171.txt

00176.txt

00173.txt

00202.txt

00351.txt

00030.txt

00325.txt

00406.txt

00244.txt

00089.txt

00082.txt

00155.txt

00273.txt

00036.txt

00124.txt

00260.txt

00400.txt

00043.txt

00395.txt

00025.txt


Full Text


Cre
AWA
WY

a
we
\

ea

.





















RESCUE OF FRANK MORTON



v EES 2













UD NN G@ ea a

A Tale of Esquimau Land

By

Robert Michael Ballantyne

Author of “The Dog Crusoe and his Master,” “The Young Fur-Traders,”
“The Gorilla-Hunters,’ ‘* The World of Ice,”
“ The Coral Island,”

&e.

NEW EDITION

7% NELSON AND SONS

LONDON: EDINBURGH
NEIV YORK

1895







PuREE el ORE.

et npg ne

Tun following story is intended to illustrate one of the
many phases of the fur-trader’s life in those wild regions
of North America which surround Hudson's Bay.

Most of its major incidents are facts—fiction being
employed chiefly for the purpose of weaving these facts
into a readable form.

If this volume should chance to fall into the hands
of any of those who acted a part in the first settlement
of Ungava, we trust that they will forgive the liberty
that has been taken with their persons and adventures,
remembering that transpositions, modifications, and
transformations are necessary in constructing a tale out
of the “raw material.”

We take this opportunity of expressing to the Leader
of the adventurous band our grateful acknowledgments
for his kindness in placing at our disposal the ground-

work on which this story has been reared.







CON TB IN TIES,

CHAPTER I.
The forest, and the leaders of the forlorn-hope—A good shot—A consultation—-
An ice-floe, and a narrow escape tr a SIAUL WHY... sieececce eee eeeeen cece eo

CHAPTER II.
Head-quarters—The men—Disputation and uncertainty—New uses for the
skins of dead boys /—Mlutinous resolves ........ccevcccnenseccnneeeceeeeeeeseseeee ses LD)
CHAPTER III.

Shows how Stanley deigned to consult with womankind—The opinions of a child
developed—Persuasion fails—Example triumphs—The first volunteers to

CHAPTER IV.
Explanatory, but not dry /—Murderous designs thwarted by vigorous treat-
ment—The cattle pay for it /—Preparations for a long, long voyage........ 3
CHAPTER V.
Ice looks wunpropitious—The start—An important member of the party nearly
AOTRROUTD OLR eciicoroneaanoxseedoretine nob seaéedorododje0e anonb aoa Gonnscaqasacéoodeadadnad 40
CHAPTER VI.
Character partially developed—Ducks for supper—A threatened “‘nip”—
EBUNULEOROULOTULLERLCC heer ee ee eee OO
CHAPTER VII.
Shows how the party made themselves at home in the bush—Talk round the
camp fire—A flash of temper—Lurntng U1 ee.cccecceccccccrcceeerseceeeesesseee DT
CHAPTER VIII.

Bryan’s adventure with a polar beat, Cb0.........0.ccccc cece eeeee cer sennteeseeeteentes 71



Vi CONTENTS.

CHAPTER IX.
A storm brewing—Tt bursts, and produces consequences—The party take to the
water per force—All saved...........0.ccceeeeeees iow uncesussutcuescus cases comes 82
CHAPTER X.
The sand-bank—Dismal prospects—Consuliations—Internal arrangements ex-
posed and detailed-........ PR RCH eee cece Aenean en eater Eee Cees 92
CEAPTER XI.

Staré afresh—Superstitious notions—The whirlpool—The interior—Fishing in
the old way on new ground, and what came of it—A cold bath—The rescue
—Saved—Deeper and deeper into the wilderness ............ccscceeeeee certs 100



CHAPTER XII.

A new sceene—The Esquimau—Decr slaying—Enemies in the bush

CHAPTER XIII.
Savage love—A uife purchased—The attack—The flight—The escape—The
DREDGE CREE aecneneoocepntieaee20000o89edotiondb dacaeadpgbobains4dads5ooga0H08e006000090000 127

CHAPTER XIV.
The purguit—Seal spearing—The giant’s Mespett’ ee... .ccceceeceeccescecseeeeeeeees 186

CHAPTER XV.
End. of the voyage—Plans and prospects—Eaploring parties sent out.......... 143

CHAPTER XVI.
Resources of the country begin to devclop—Bryan distinguishes himself—Fish-
AIL COLTON AULT Y err nore mee eee ee eee ceee 154
CHAPTER XVII.

Successes and encouragement—Bryan lost and found .......ceieeececceseesseeeeeees 168

CHAPTER XVIII.

Outpost-building—Fort Chimo—An unexpected arrival, which causes much

CHAPTER XIX.
Bustle and business—A great feast, in which Bryan and La Roche are prime
movers—New ideas in the art of COOKING. ......ccccccececccscenseeesceeeueenee ieee 188
CHAPTER XX.

Winter approaches—Esquimaux arrive—Effect of a word—A sucking baby—
PUOSTECLB. OF ETA Gis, wr nctc cone na eee s eau ae Rete ee Ee Le eee 200



CONTENTS. vil

CHAPTER XXI.
Silent conversation—Raw food—Female tails—A terrible battle terminated by
the interposition Of G GUant.....ccccecciccceere ee tes ene etttee teen este eaten ies 210
CHAPTER XXII.
Maximus—Deer spearing—A surprisingly bad shot-—Character of the na-
ELLCS eee eee renin eee tose tinal lia tetas esa chan 218
CHAPTER XXIII.
More arrivals—Honesty—Indians come upon the scene—The tribes reconciled—
Disease and death change the aspect of things—Philosophic discourse... 228.
CHAPTER XXIV.
Effect of snow on the feelings, not to mention the landscape—A wonderful dome

CHAPTER XXV.
Buried alive—But not killed—The giant in the snow-stor Mi. .....icseeereeseerers 250:

CHAPTER XXVI.
An excursion—Igloe building, and fishing under the ice—A snow-table and a
good feast—Edith spends the night under a snow-roof for the first but not
the UASE UINC.....cccescceneccesessccnssctanssceencctsenscceesesnseseeceesesan scenes ecenen ens 263
CHAPTER XXVII.
Frank Morton gets into difficulties... cies eet ccs . 273.

CHAPTER XXVIII.
Edith becomes a heroine indeed... ci... cece cece eee etn eee 286

CHAPTER XXIX.

A dark cloud of sorrow envelops Fort Chimo.......-..ccccccccestier escent tees 295

CHAPTER XXX.
An old friend amid new friends ‘and novelties—A desperate battle, and a
GMOVUOUS VICLOTY. oe seeeeeseeceenee cent ee ene tent e eee Ee EEE eee ee eens 302
CHAPTER XXXI.
Another desperate battle, and a decided victory—The Esquimaux suffer a
SEVEN LOGS... cccececcccccnveveeseeccenser sescecneeseseeseenarecseceers er ceesemenatereeceerees 320:
CHAPTER XXXII.

Edith waxes melancholy, but her sadness is suddenly turned into joy ; and the
Esquimaua receive a surprise, and find a friend, and LOSE ONE. ... 60s cee eee 330



Vill 5 CONTENTS.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

The clouds are broken, the sun bursts through and once more irradiates Fort
Chamo—Hopes and fears for Maxtmus.......cccccccccccceseeeccsscceceesececeses 341

' CHAPTER XXXIV.

Rough and tumble—A polar bear made useful—Fishing, and floundering, and
narrow escupes—An unexpected discovery, productive of mingled perplexity
COLO OU Rewees sa eae a tec ct anes ae Ue teens teen OO er MLE ep 346

CHAPTER XXXV.
A stirring period in the life of Maxtmus.....cccccccceccccecsssssscscssscsesseeecesece. 362

CHAPTER XXXVI.

Happy meetings and joyous feastings—Love, marriage, desertion, desolation, and
COMCLUSLON .. 0... .0.cecenseceeeceeeeeces ass tecte erecta ctsenitet yarn neet a tear 378



UNGAVA.



CHAPTER I.

The forest, and the icaders of the forlorn-hope—A good shot—A consultation—
An ice-floc, and @ narrow escape in a small way.

= ]T ALLO! where are you?” shouted a voice that

rang through the glades of the forest like the
blast of a silver trumpet, testifying to lungs of leather
and a throat of brass.

The ringing tones died away, and nought was heard
save the rustling of the leafy canopy overhead, as the
young man, whose shout had thus rudely disturbed the
surrounding echoes, leaned on the muzzle of a long rifle,
and stood motionless as a statue, his right foot resting
on the trunk of a fallen tree, and his head bent slightly
to one side, as if listening for a reply. But no reply
came. A squirrel ran down the trunk of a neighbouring
pine, and paused, with tail and ears erect, and its little
black eyes glittering as if with surprise at the temerity
of him who so recklessly dared to intrude upon and
desecrate with his powerful voice the deep solitudes of
the wilderness. They stood so long thus that it seemed
as though the little animal and the man had been
petrified by the unwonted sound. If so, the spell was
quickly broken. The loud report of a fowling-piece



10 UNGAVA.

was heard at a short distance. The squirrel incontinently
disappeared from the spot on which it stood, and almost
instantaneously reappeared on the topmost branch of
a high tree; while the young man gave a smile of
satisfaction, threw the rifle over his shoulder, and, turning
round, strode rapidly away in the direction whence the
shot proceeded.

A few minutes’ walk brought him to the banks of a
little brook, by the side of which, on the projecting root
of a tree, sat a man, with a dead goose at his feet and
a fowling-piece by his side. He was dressed in the
garb of a hunter; and, from the number of gray hairs
that shone like threads of silver among the black curls
on his temples, he was evidently past the meridian of
life,—although, from the upright bearing of his tall
muscular frame, and the quick glance of his fearless
black eye, it was equally evident that the vigour of his
youth was not yet abated.

“Why, Stanley,” exclaimed the young man as he
approached, “ I’ve been shouting till my throat is cracked,
for at least half-an-hour. I verily began to think that
you had forsaken me altogether.”

“In which case, Frank,” replied the other, “I should
have treated you as you deserve, for your empty game-
bag proves you an unworthy comrade in the chase.”

“So, so, friend, do not boast,” replied the youth with
asmile; “if I mistake not, that goose was winging its
way to the far north not ten minutes agone. Had I
come up half-an-hour sooner, I suspect we should have
met on equal terms; but the fact is, that I have not
seen hair or feather, save a tree-squirrel, since I left you
in the morning.”

“Well, to say truth, I was equally unfortunate until ©
I met this luckless goose, and fired the shot that brought



UNGAVA. cm

him down and brought you up. But I’ve had enough
o’ this now, and shall back to the fort again. What
say you,—will you go in my canoe or walk ?”

The young man was silent for a few seconds ; then,
without replying to his companion’s question, he said,—

« By-the-by, is it not to-night that you mean to make
another attempt to induce the men to volunteer for the
expedition ?”

“Tt is,” replied Stanley, with a slight frown.

“And what if they still persist in refusing to go?”

“Tl try once more to shame them out of their
cowardice. But if they won’t agree, I'll compel them to
go by means of more powerful arguments than words.”

“Tis not cowardice; you do the men injustice,” said
Frank, shaking his head. ;

« Well, well, I believe I do, lad; you're right,” replied
Stanley, while a smile smoothed out the firm lines that
had gathered round his lips for a few seconds. “No
doubt they care as little for the anticipated dangers of
the expedition as any men living, and they hesitate to
go simply because they know that the life before them
will be a lonely one at such an out-o-the-way place as
Ungava. But we can’t help that, Frank ; the interests
of the Company must be attended to, and so go they
must, willing or not willing, But I’m annoyed at this
unexpected difficulty, for there's a mighty difference
between men who volunteer to go and men who go
merely because they must and can’t help it.”

The young man slowly rubbed the stock of his rifle
with the sleeve of his coat, and looked as if he understood
and sympathized with his friend’s chagrin.

“Jf Prince were only here just now,” said he, looking
up, “there would be no difficulty in the matter. These

fellows only want a bold, hearty comrade to step forward



12 UNGAVA.

and show them the way, and they will follow to the
North Pole if need be. They look upon our willingness
to go as a mere matter of course, though I don’t see
why we should be expected to like banishment more
than themselves. But if Prince were—”

“ Well, well, Prince is not here, so we must do the
best we can without him,” said Stanley.

As he spoke, the trumpet note of a goose was heard
in the distance.

“ There he goes !—down with you!” exclaimed Frank,
darting suddenly behind the stump of the tree, while
his companion crouched beside him, and both began to
shout at the top of their voices in imitation of the goose.
The bird was foolish enough to accept the invitation
immediately, although, had it been other than a goose,
it would have easily recognized the sound as a wretched
counterfeit of the goose language. It flew directly
towards them, as geese always do in spring when thus
enticed, but passed at such a distance that the elder
sportsman was induced to lower his piece.

“Ah! he’s too far off. You'd better give him a shot
with the rifle, Frank ; but you’re sure to miss.”

“To hit, you mean,” cried his companion, flushing
with momentary indignation at this disparaging remark.
At the same moment he took a rapid aim and fired.
For a few yards the goose continued its forward flight
as if unhurt; then it wavered once or twice, and fell
heavily to the ground.

“Bravo, boy!” cried Stanley. “There, don’t look
nettled ; I only jested with you, knowing your weakness
on the score of rifle-shooting. Now, pick up your bird.
and throw it into the canoe, for I must away.”

Frank finished reloading his piece as his friend spoke.
and went to pick up the goose; while the cther walked



UNGAVA. 13

down to the edge of the rivulet, and disengaged a light
birch-bark canoe from the long grass and sedges that
almost hid it from view.

“Make haste, Frank!” he shouted; “there’s the ice
coming up with the flood-tide, and bearing down on the
creek here.”

At a short distance from the spot where the sportsmen
stood, the streamlet already alluded to mingled its waters
with a broad river, which, a few miles farther down,
flows into James’s Bay. As every one knows, this bay
lies to the south of Hudson’s Bay, in North America.
Here the river is about two miles wide; and the shores
on either side being low, it has all the appearance of an
extensive lake. In spring, after the disruption of the
ice, its waters are loaded with large floes and fields of
ice; and later in the season, after it has become quite
free from this wintry encumbrance, numerous detached
masses come up with every flood-tide. It was the
approach of one of these floes that called forth Stanley’s
remark.

The young man replied to it by springing towards
the canoe, in which his companion was already seated.
Throwing the dead bird into it, he stooped, and gave
the light bark a powerful shove into the stream, ex-
claiming, as he did so, “There, strike out, you've no
time to lose, and I'll go round by the woods.”

There was indeed no time to lose. The huge mass
of ice was closing rapidly into the mouth of the creek,
and narrowing the only passage through which the ,
canoe could escape into the open water of the river
beyond. Stanley might, indeed, drag his canoe up the
bank, if so disposed, and reach home by a circuitous
walk through the woods; but by doing so he would
lose much time, and be under the necessity of carrying



14 UNGAVA.

his gun, blanket, tin kettle, and the goose, on his back.
His broad shoulders were admirably adapted for such a
burden, but he preferred the canoe to the woods on the
present occasion. Besides, the only risk he ran was
that of getting his canoe crushed to pieces. So, plunging
his paddle vigorously in the water, he shot through the
lessening channel like an arrow, and swept out on the
bosom of the broad river just as the ice closed with a
crash upon the shore and ground itself to powder on
the rocks. i

“Well done!” shouted Frank, with a wave of his
cap, as he witnessed the success of his friend’s exploit.

“Ali right,” replied Stanley, glancing over his
shoulder.

In another moment the canoe disappeared behind a
group of willows that grew on the point at the river’s
mouth, and the young man was left alone. For a few
minutes he stood contemplating the point behind which
his companion had disappeared; then giving a hasty
glance at the priming of his rifle, he threw it across his
shoulder, and striding rapidly up the bank, was soon
lost to view amid the luxuriant undergrowth of the
forest.



CHAPTER II.

Head-quarters~The men—Disputation and uncertainty—New uses for the
skins of dead boys /—Afutinous resolves.

OOSE FORT, the head-quarters and depot of the
fur-traders, who prosecute their traffic in almost

all parts of the wild and uninhabited regions of North .
America, stands on an island near the mouth of Moose
River. Like all the establishments of the fur-traders,
it is a solitary group of wooden buildings, far removed
beyond the influences—almost beyond the ken—of the
civilized world, and surrounded by the primeval wilder-
ness, the only tenants of which were, at the time we
write of, a few scattered tribes of Muskigon Indians, and
the wild animals whose flesh furnished them with food
and whose skins constituted their sole wealth. There
was little of luxury at Moose Fort. The walls of the
houses within the stockade, that served more as an
ornament than a defence, were of painted, in some cases
unpainted, planks. The floors, ceilings, chairs, tables,
and, in short, all the articles of furniture in the place,
were made of the same rough material. A lofty scaffold-
ing of wood rose above the surrounding buildings, and
served as an outlook, whence, at the proper season,
longing eyes were wont to be turned towards the sea in
expectation of “the ship” which paid the establishment
an annual visit from England. Several large iron field-



16 UNGAVA.

pieces stood before the front gate; but they were more
for the sake of appearance than use, and were never
fired except for the purpose of saluting the said ship on
the occasions of her arrival and departure.’ The first
boom of the cannon unlocks the long-closed portals of
connection between Moose Fort and England ; the second
salvo shuts them up again in their frozen domains for
another year! A century and a half ago, the band of
“adventurers trading into Hudson’s Bay” felled the
first trees and pitched their tents on the shores of
James’s Bay, and successive generations of fur-traders
have kept the post until the present day; yet there is
searcely a symptom of the presence of man beyond a
few miles round the establishment. Years ago the fort
was built, and there it stands now, with new tenants it
is true, but in its general aspect unchanged; and there
it is likely to remain, wrapped in its barrier of all but
impregnable solitude, for centuries to come.
Nevertheless, Moose is a comfortable place in its way,
and when contrasted with other trading establishments
is a very palace and temple of luxury. There are men
within its walls who can tell of log-huts and starvation,
solitude and desolation, compared with which Moose is a
terrestrial paradise. Frank Morton, whom we have
introduced in the first chapter, said, on his arrival at
Moose, that it appeared to him to be the very fag-end
of creation. He had travelled night and day for six
weeks from what he considered the very outskirts of
civilization, through uninhabited forests and almost un-
known rivers, in order to get to it; and while the feeling
of desolation that overwhelmed him on his first arrival was
strong upon him, he sighed deeply, and called it a “ horrid
dull hole.” But Frank was of a gay, hearty, joyous
disposition, and had not been there long ere he loved





UNGAVA. 17

the old fort dearly. Poor fellow! far removed though
he was from his fellow-men at Moose, he afterwards
learned that he had but obtained an indistinct notion of
the signification of the word “ solitude.”

There were probably about thirty human beings at
Moose, when Mr. George Stanley, one of the principal fur-
traders of the place, received orders from the governor
to make preparations, and select men, for the purpose of
proceeding many hundred miles deeper into the northern
wilderness, and establishing a station on the distant,
almost unknown, shores of Ungava Bay. No one at
Moose had ever been there before; no one knew any-
thing about the route, except from the vague report of
a few Indians; and the only thing that was definitely
known about the locality at all was, that its inhabitants
were a few wandering tribes of Esquimaux, who were
at deadly feud with the Indians, and generally massacred
all who came within their reach. What the capabilities
of the country were, in regard to timber and provisions,
nobody knew, and, fortunately for the success of the
expedition, nobody cared! At least those who were to
lead the way did not; and this admirable quality of
total indifference to prospective dangers is that which,
to a great extent, insures success in a forlorn-hope.

Of the leaders of this expedition the reader already
knows something. George Stanley was nearly six feet
high, forty years of age, and endued with a decision of
character that, but for his quiet good-humour, would
have been deemed obstinacy. He was deliberate in all
his movements, and exercised a control over his feelings
that quite concealed his naturally enthusiastic disposi-
tion. Moreover, he was married, and had a daughter
of ten years of age. This might be thought a dis-
advantage in his present circumstances ; but the governor

9

a



18 UNGAVA.

of the fur-traders, a most energetic and active ruler,
thought otherwise. He recommended that the family
should be left at Moose until an establishment had been
built, and a winter passed at Ungava. Afterwards they
could join him there. As for Frank Morton, he was an
inch taller than his friend Stanley, and equally powerful ;
fair-haired, blue-eyed, hilarious, romantic, twenty-two
years of age, and so impulsive that, on hearing of the
proposed expedition from one of his comrades, who
happened to be present when Stanley was reading the
despatches, he sprang from his chair, which he upset—
dashed out at the door, which he banged—and_ hurried
to his friend’s quarters in order to be first to volunteer
his services as second in command; which offer was
rendered unnecessary by Stanley’s eee the mo-
ment he entered his room,—

“Ha, Frank, my lad, the very man I wanted to see!
Here’s a letter from head-quarters ordering me off on an
expedition to Ungava. Now, I want volunteers; will
you go?”

It is needless to add that Frank’s blue eyes sparkled
with animation as he seized his friend’s hand and
replied, “To the North Hole if you like, or farther if
need be!”

It was evening. The sun was gilding the top of the
flag-staff with a parting kiss, and the inhabitants of
Moose Fort, having finished their daily toil, were making
preparations for their evening meal. On the end of the
wharf that jutted out into the stream was assembled
a picturesque group of men, who, from the earnest
manner in which they conversed, and the energy of
their gesticulations, were evidently discussing a subject:
of more than ordinary interest. Most of them were clad
in corduroy trousers, gartered below the knee with





UNGAVA. 19

thongs of deer-skin, and coarse striped cotton shirts,
open at the neck so as to expose their sun-burnt
breasts. A few wore caps which, whatever might have
been their original form, were now so much soiled and
battered out of shape by long and severe service that
they were nondescript; but most of these hardy back-
woodsmen were content with the covering afforded by
their thick bushy locks.

“No, no,” exclaimed a short, thick-set, powerful man,
with a somewhat ascetic cast of countenance ; “I’ve seen
more than enough o’ these rascally Huskies.* "Tis well
for me that I’m here this blessed day, an’ not made into
a dan to bob about in Hudson's Straits at the tail of a
white whale, like that poor boy Peter who was shot by
them varmints.”

“ What’s a dan?” asked a young half-breed who had
lately arrived at Moose, and knew little of Esquimau
implements.

“What a green-horn you must be, Frangois, not to
know what a dan is!” replied another, who was inclined
to be quizzical. .“ Why, it’s a sort of sea-carriage that
the Esquimaux tie to the tail of a walrus or sea-
horse when they feel inclined for a drive. When they
can’t get a sea-horse they catch a white whale asleep,
and wake him up after fastening the dan to his
tail. I suppose they have conjurers or wizards among
them, since Massan told us just now that poor Peter
was—”

“Bah! gammon,” interrupted Frangois with. a smile,
as he turned to the first speaker. “ But tell me, Massan,
what 7s a dan?”

“Tts a sort o’ float or buoy, lad, used by the Huskies,
and is made out o’ the skin o’ the seal. They tie it

* Esquimaux.



20 UNGAVA.

with a long line to their whale spears to show which
way the fish bolts when struck.”

“And did they use Peter's skin for such a purpose?”
inquired Francois, earnestly.

“They did,” replied Massan.

“And did you see them do it?”

“Yes, I did.”

Frangois gazed intently into his comrade’s face as he
spoke; but Massan was an adept at what is usually
ealled drawing the long bow, and it was with the most
imperturbable gravity that he continued—< Yes, I saw
them do it; but I could not render any assistance to
the poor child, for I was lying close behind a rock at
the time, with an arrow sticking between my shoulders,
and a score o’ them oily varmints a-shoutin’, and yellin’,
and flourishing their spears in search o’ me.”

“Tell us how it happened, Massan. Let’s hear the
story,” chorused the men, as they closed round their
comrade.

“Well then,” began the stout backwoodsman, pro-
ceeding leisurely to fill his pipe from an ornamented bag
that hung at his belt, “here goes. It was about the
year—a—lI forget the year, but it don’t matter—that
we were ordered off on an expedition to the Huskies;
’xactly sich a one as they wants us to go on now, and—
but you've heerd o’ that business, lads, haven’t you ?”

“ Yes, yes, we’ve heard all about it; go on.”

“Well,” continued Massan, “I needn’t be wastin’
time tellin’ you how we failed in that affair, and how
the Huskies killed some of our men and burnt our ship
to the water’s edge. After it was all over, and they
thought they had killed us all, I was, as I said, lyin’
behind a great rock in a sort o’ cave, lookin’ at the
dirty villains as they danced about on the shore, and took





UNGAVA. 21

possession of all our goods. Suddenly I seed two o
them carry Peter down to the beach, an’ I saw, as they
passed me, that he was quite dead. In less time than
I can count a hundred they took the skin off him, cut
off his head, sewed up the hole, tied his arms and legs
in a knot, blew him full o’ wind till he was fit to bu’st,
an’ then hung him up to dry in the sun! In fact they
made a dan of him !” ,

A loud shout of laughter greeted this startling con-
clusion. In truth, we must do Massan the justice to
say, that although he was much in the habit of amusing
his companions by entertaining them with anecdotes
which originated entirely in his own teeming fancy, he
never actually decerved them, but invariably, either by
a sly glance or by the astounding nature of his com-
munication, gave them to understand that he was dealing
not with fact but fiction.

“ But seriously, lads,” said Francois, whose intelligence,
added to a grave, manly countenance and a tall, muscular
frame, caused him to be regarded by his comrades as a
sort of leader both in action and in council, “what do
you think of our bourgeois’ plan? For my part, I’m
willing enough to go to any reasonable part o’ the
country where there are furs and Indians; but as for
this Ungava, from what Massan says, there’s neither
Indians, nor furs, nor victuals,—nothin’ but rocks, and
mountains, and eternal winter; and if we do get the
Huskies about us, they'll very likely serve us as they
did the last expedition to Richmond Gulf.”

“ Ay, ay,” cried one of the others, “ you may say that,
Francois. Nothin’ but frost and starvation, and nobody
to bury us when we're dead.”

“ Except the Huskies,” broke in another, “who would
save themselves the trouble by converting us all into dans!”



22 UNGAVA.

“Tush, man! stop your clapper,” cried Frangois, im-
patiently ; “let us settle this business. You know that
Monsieur Stanley said he would expect us to be ready
with an answer to-night—What think you, Gaspard ?
shall we go, or shall we mutiny ?”

The individual addressed was a fine specimen of an
animal, but not by any means a good specimen of a
man. He was of gigantic proportions, straight and tall
as a poplar, and endowed with the strength of a Hercules.
His glittering dark eyes and long black hair, together
with the hue of his skin, bespoke him of half-breed
extraction. But his countenance did not correspond to
his fine physical proportions. True, his features were
good, but they wore habitually a scowling, sulky ex-
pression, even when the man was pleased, and there
was more of sarcasm than joviality in the sound when
Gaspard condescended to laugh.

“Tl be shot if I go to such a hole for the best
bourgeois in the country,’ said he in reply to Frangois’
question.

“You'll be dismissed the service if you don’t,” re-
marked Massan with a smile.

To this Gaspard vouchsafed no reply save a growl
that, to say the best of it, did not sound amiable.

*Well, I think that we’re all pretty much of one
mind on the point,” continued Frangois; “and yet I
feel half ashamed to refuse after all, especially when I
see the good will with which Messieurs Stanley and
Morton agree to go.”

“T suppose you expect to be a bourgeois too some
day,” growled Gaspard with a sneer.

“Eh, tu gros chien?” cried Frangois, as with flashing
eyes and clinched fists he strode up to his ill-tempered
comrade.



UNGAVA. 23

“Come, come, Francois, don’t quarrel for nothing,”
said Massan, interposing his broad shoulders and pushing
him vigorously back.

At that moment an exclamation from one of the men
diverted the attention of the others.

“Voila! the canoe.”

“ Ay, it’s Monsieur Stanley’s canoe. I saw him and
Monsieur Morton start for the swamp this morning.”

“JT wonder what Dick Prince would have done in this
business had he been here,” said Francois to Massan in
a low tone, as they stood watching the approach of their
bourgeois’ canoe.

“Can’t say. I half think he would have gone.”

“There’s no chance of him coming back in time, I
fear.”

“None; unless he prevails on some goose to lend him
a pair of wings for a day or two. He won't be back
from the hunt for three weeks good.”

In a few minutes more the canoe skimmed up to the
wharf,

“ Here, lads,’ cried Mr. Stanley, as he leaped ashore
and dragged the canoe out of the water; “one of you
come and lift this canoe up the bank, and take these
geese to the kitchen.”

Two of the men instantly hastened to obey, and
Stanley, with the gun and paddles under his arm, pro-
ceeded towards the gateway of the fort. As he passed
the group assembled on the wharf, he turned and
said,—

“You'll come to the hall in an hour, lads; I shall
expect you to be ready with an answer by that time.”

“ Ay, ay, sir,” replied several of the men.

“ But we won’t go for all your expectations,” said one
in an undertone to a comrade.



24, UNGAVA.

“TI should think not,’ whispered another.

“Tl be hanged, and burnt, and frozen if J do,” said
a third.

In the meantime Mr. Stanley walked briskly towards
his dwelling, and left the men to grumble over their
troubles and continue their debate as to whether they
should or should not agree to go on the pending ex-
pedition to the distant regions of Ungava.



CHAPTER III.

Shows how Stanley deigned to consult with womankind—The opinions of a child
developed—Persuasion fails—Example triumphs—The first volunteers to
Ongava.

N reaching his apartment, which was in an angle

of the principal edifice in the fort, Mr. Stanley

flung down his gun and paddles, and drawing a chair

close to his wife, who was working with her needle

near a window, took her hand in his and heaved a deep
sigh.

“Why, George, that’s what you used to say to me
when you were at a loss for words in the days of our
courtship.”

“True, Jessie,” he replied, patting her shoulder with
a hand that rough service had rendered hard and long
exposure had burnt brown. “But the producing cause
then was different from what it is now. Zhen it was
love; now it is perplexity.”

Stanley’s wife was the daughter of English parents,
who had settled many years ago in the fur countries.
Being quite beyond the reach of any school, they had
been obliged to undertake the instruction of their only
child, Jessie, as they best could. At first this was an
easy matter, but as years flew by, and little Jessie’s
mind expanded, it was found to be a difficult matter to
carry on her education in a country in most parts of



26 UNGAVA.

which books were not to be had and schoolmasters did
not exist. When the difficulty first presented itself,
they talked of sending their little one to England to
finish her education; but being unable to bring them-
selves to part with her, they resolved to have a choice
selection of books sent out to them. Jessie’s mother
was a clever, accomplished, and lady-like woman, and
decidedly pious, so that the little flower, which was
indeed born to blush unseen, grew up to be a gentle,
affectionate woman—one who was a lady in all her
thoughts and actions, yet had never seen polite society,
save that of her father and mother. In process of time
Jessie became Mrs. Stanley, and the mother of a little
girl whose voice was, at the time her father entered,
ringing cheerfully in an adjoining room. Mrs. Stanley’s
nature was an earnest one, and she no sooner observed
that her husband was worried about something, than
she instantly dropped the light tone in which she at first
addressed. him.

“And what perplexes you now, dear George?” she
said, laying down her work and looking’ up in his face
with that straightforward, earnest gaze that in days of
yore had set the stout backwoodsman’s heart on fire, and
still kept it in a perennial blaze.

“Nothing very serious,’ he replied with a smile;
“only these fellows have taken it into their stupid heads
that Ungava is worse than the land beyond the Styx;
and so, after the tough battle that I had with you this
morning in order to prevail on you to remain here for a
winter without me, I’ve had to fight another battle with
them in order to-get them to go on this expedition.”

“Have you been victorious?” inquired Mrs. Stanley.

* No, not yet.”

“Do you really mean to say they are afraid to go?



UNGAVA. 27

Has Prince refused? are Francois, Gaspard, and Massan
cowards ?” she inquired, her eye kindling with indigna-
tion.

“Nay, my wife, not so. These men are not cowards ;
nevertheless they don’t feel inclined to go; and as for
Dick Prince, he has been off hunting for a week, and I
don’t expect him back for three weeks at least, by which
time we shall be off.”

Mrs. Stanley sighed, as if she felt the utter helpless-
ness-of woman in such affairs.

“Why, Jessie, that’s what you used to say to me when
you were at a loss for words in the days of our court-
ship,” said Stanley, smiling.

“Ah, George, like you I may say that the cause is
now perplexity ; for what can J do to help you in your
present difficulty ?”

“Truly not much. But I like to tell you of my
troubles, and to make more of them than they deserve,
for the sake of drawing forth your sympathy. Bless
your heart!” he said, in a sudden burst of enthusiasm,
“T would gladly undergo any amount of trouble every
day, if by so doing I should secure that earnest, loving,
anxious gaze of your sweet blue eyes as a reward!”
Stanley imprinted a hearty kiss on his wife’s cheek as
he made this lover-like speech, and then rose to place
his fowling-piece on the pegs from which it usually
hung over the fire-place.

At that moment the door opened, and a little girl,
with bright eyes and flaxen hair, bounded into the
room.

“QO mamma, mamma!” she said, holding up a sheet
of paper, while a look of intense satisfaction beamed on
her animated countenance, “see, I have drawn Chimo’s
portrait. Is it like, mamma? Do you think it like?”

1?



28 UNGAVA.

“Come here, Eda, my darling, come to me,” said
Stanley, seating himself on a chair and extending his
arms. Edith instantly left the portrait of the dog in
her mother’s possession, and, without waiting for an
opinion as to its merits, ran to her father, jumped on his
knee, threw her arms round his neck, and kissed him.
Edith was by no means a beautiful child, but miserable
indeed must have been the taste of him who would have
pronounced her plain-looking. Her features were not
regular; her nose had a strong tendency to what is
called snubbed, and her mouth was large; but to counter-
balance these defects she had a pair of large deep-blue
eyes, soft golden hair, a fair rosy complexion, and an
expression of sweetness at the corners of her mouth that
betrayed habitual good-nature. She was quick in all
her movements, combined with a peculiar softness and
grace of deportment that was exceedingly attractive.

“Would you like to go, my pet,” said her father, “to
a country far, far away in the north, where there are
high mountains and deep valleys, inhabited by beautiful
reindeer, and large lakes and rivers filled with fish ;
where there is very little daylight all the long winter,
and where there is scarcely any night all the long bright
summer? Would my Eda like to go there?”

The child possessed that fascinating quality of being
intensely interested in all that was said to her. As her
father spoke, her eyes gradually expanded and looked
straight into his, while her head turned slowly and very
slightly to one side. As he concluded, she replied, “Oh!
very, very, very much indeed,” with a degree of energy
that made both her parents laugh.

“Ah, my darling! would that my lazy men were
endued with some of your spirit,” said Stanley, patting
the child’s head.



- UNGAVA. 29

“Tg Prince a lazy man, papa?” inquired Edith
anxiously.

“No, certainly, Prince is not. Why do you ask?”

“ Because I love Prince.”

“ And do you not love all the men?”

“No,” replied Edith, with some hesitation ; “at least
I don’t love them very much, and I hate one!”

“Hate one!” echoed Mrs. Stanley. “Come here, my
darling.”

Eda slipped from her father’s knee and went to her
mother, feeling and looking as if she had said something
wrong.

Mrs. Stanley was not one of those mothers who,
whenever they hear of their children having done any-
thing wrong, assume a look of intense, solemnized horror,
that would lead an ignorant spectator to suppose that
intelligence had just been received of some sudden and
appalling catastrophe. She knew that children could
not be deceived by such pieces of acting. She expressed
on her countenance precisely what she felt—a slight
degree of sorrow that her child should cherish an evil
passion, which, she knew, existed in her heart in common
with all the human race, but which she expected, by
God’s help and blessing, to subdue effectually at last.
Kissing Eda’s forehead she said kindly,—

“Which of them do you hate, darling ?”

“Gaspard,” replied the child.

“And why do you hate him?”

“Because he struck my dog,” said Eda, while her face
flushed and her cyes sparkled; “and he is always rude
to everybody, and very, very eruel to the dogs.”

“That is very wrong of Gaspard ; but, dearest Eda,
do you not remember what is written in God’s Word,—
‘Love your enemies’? It is wrong to hate anybody.”



30 UNGAVA.

“T know that, mamma, and I don’t wish to hate
Gaspard, but I can’t help it. I wish if I didn’t hate
him, but it won't go away.”

“Well, my pet,” replied Mrs. Stanley, pressing the
child to her bosom, “but you must pray for him, and
speak kindly to him when you meet him, and that will
perhaps put it away. And now let us talk of the far-
off country that papa was speaking about. I wonder
what he has to tell you about it!”

Stanley had been gazing out of the window during
the foregoing colloquy, apparently inattentive, though,
in reality, deeply interested in what was said. Turning
round, he said,—

“TI was going to tell Eda that you had arranged to
follow me to that country next year, and that perhaps
you would bring her along with you.”

“ Nay, George, you mistake. I did not arrange to do
so,—-you only proposed the arrangement; but, to say
truth, I don’t like it, and I can’t make up my mind to
let you go without us. I cannot wait till next year.”

“Well, well, Jessie, I have exhausted all my powers
of persuasion. I leave it entirely to yourself to do as
you think best.”

At this moment the sound of deep voices was heard
in the hall, which was separated from Stanley’s quarters
by a thin partition of wood. In a few seconds the door
opened, and George Barney, the Irish butler and general
factotum to the establishment, announced that the “min
wos in the hall awaitin’.”

Giving Eda a parting kiss, Stanley vose and entered
the hall, where F rangois, Massan, Gaspard, and several
others were grouped in a corner. On their bourgeois
entering, they doffed their bonnets and bowed.

“Well, lads,” began Stanley, with a smile, “ you’ve





UNGAVA. 31

* thought better of it, I hope, and have come to volunteer
for this expedition” He checked himself and frowned,
for he saw by their looks that they had come with quite
a different intention. “What have you to say to me?”
he continued, abruptly.

The men looked uneasily at each other, and then fixed
their eyes on Francois, who was evidently expected to
be spokesman. :

“Come, Francois, speak out,” said Stanley; “if you
have any objections, out with them,—you're free to say
what you please here.”

As he spoke, and ere Francois could reply, Frank
Morton entered the room. “Ah!” he exclaimed, as he
deposited his rifle in a corner and flung his cap on the
table, “in time, I see, to help at the council!”

“T was just asking Francois to state his objections to
going,” said Stanley, as his young friend took his place
beside him.

“Objections!” repeated Frank; “what objections can
bold spirits have to go on a bold adventure? The ques-
tion should have been, ‘ Who will be first to volunteer 2’ ”

At this moment the door of Stanley’s apartment
opened, and his wife appeared leading Eda by the hand.

' “Here are two volunteers,” she said, with a smile;
“pray put us at the head of your list. We will go with
you to any part of the world!”

“Bravo!” shouted Frank, catching up Eda, with
whom he was a great favourite, and hugging her tightly
in his arms.

“Nay, but, wife, this is sheer folly. You know not
the dangers that await you—”

“Perhaps not,” interrupted Mrs. Stanley, “but you
know them, and that is enough for me.”

“Indeed, Jessie, I know them not. I can but guess



32 UNGAVA.

at them.—But, ah! well, ‘tis useless to argue further.
Be it so; we shall head the list with you and Eda.”

“ And put my name next,” said a deep-toned voice from
behind the other men. All turned round in surprise.

“Dick Prince!” they exclaimed ; “you here?”

“ Ay, lads,” said a tall man of about forty, who was
not so remarkable for physical development (though in
this respect he was by no means deficient) as for a
certain decision of character that betrayed itself in every
outline of his masculine, intelligent countenance—“ ay,
lads, ’m here; an’ sorry am I that I’ve jist comed in
time to hear that you're sich poor-spirited rascals as to
hang back when ye should jump for’ard.”

“But how came you so opportunely, Prince?” inquired
Stanley.

“JT met an Injin, sir, as told me you was goin’ off; so
I thought you might want me, and comed straight back.
And now, sir, I’m ready to go; and so is Francois,” he
continued, turning to that individual, who seized his
hand and exclaimed, “That am I, my boy, to the moon
if ye like!”

“ And Massan, too,” continued Prince.

“All right; book me for Nova Zembla,” replied that
worthy.

“So, so,” eried Mr. Stanley, with a satisfied smile.
“T see, lads, that we’re all of one mind now. Is it not
so? Are we agreed ?”

“Agreed! agreed!” they replied with one voice.

“That’s well,” he continued. “Now then, lads, clear
out and get your kits ready—And ho! Barney, give
these men a glass of grog.—Prince, I shall want to talk
with you this evening. Come to me an hour hence——
And now,” he added, taking Eda by the hand, “come
along, my gentle volunteers ; let’s go to supper.”



CHAPTER IV.

Explanatory, but not dry !—Murderous designs thwarted by vigorous treat-
ment—The cattle pay for it /—Preparations for a long, long voyage.

N order to render our story intelligible, it is necessary

here to say a few words explanatory of the nature

and object of the expedition referred to in the foregoing
chapters.

Many years previous to the opening of our tale, it
was deemed expedient, by the rulers of the Hudson’s
Bay Fur Company, to effect, if possible, a reconciliation
or treaty of peace between the Muskigon Indians of
James’s Bay and the Esquimaux of Hudson’s Straits,
The Muskigons are by no means a warlike race; on the
contrary, they are naturally timid, and only plucked up
courage to make war on their northern neighbours in
consequence of these poor people being destitute of fire-
arms, while themselves were supplied with guns and
ammunition by the fur-traders. The Esquimaux, how.
ever, are much superior to the Muskigon Indians physic-
ally, and would have held their adversaries in light
esteem had they met on equal terms, or, indeed, on any
terms at all; but the evil was that they never met.
The Indians always took them by surprise, and from
behind the rocks and bushes sent destruction into their
camps with the deadly bullet; while their helpless foes
could only reply with the comparatively harmless arrow

3



34 UNGAVA.

and spear. Thus the war was in fact an annual raid of
murderers. The conceited Muskigons returned to their
wigwams in triumph, with bloody scalps hanging at their
belts; while the Esquimaux pushed farther into their
ice-bound fastnesses, and told their comrades, with lower-
ing brows and heaving bosoms, of the sudden attack,
and of the wives and children who had been butchered
in cold blood, or led captive to the tents of the cowardly
red men.

At such times those untutored inhabitants of the
frozen regions vowed vengeance on the Indians, and
cursed in their hearts the white men who supplied them
with the deadly gun. But the curse was unmerited.
In the councils of the fur-traders the subject of Esqui-
mau wrongs had been mooted, and plans for the
amelioration of their condition devised. Trading posts
were established on Richmond Gulf and Little Whale
River; but owing to circumstances which it is unneces-
sary to detail here, they turned out failures, and were
at length abandoned. Still, those in charge of the dis-
tricts around Hudson’s Bay and Labrador continued to
use every argument to prevail on the Indians to cease
their murderous assaults on their unoffending neigh-
bours, but without much effect. At length the governor
of East Main—a, territory lying on the eastern shores
of James’s Bay—adopted an argument which proved
eminently successful, at least for one season.

His fort was visited by a large band of Muskigons
from Albany and Moose districts, who brought a quantity
of valuable furs, for which they demanded guns and
ammunition, making no secret of their intention to pro-
ceed on an expedition against their enemies the Esqui-
maux. On hearing of this, the governor went out to
them, and, in a voice of extreme indignation, assured



UNGAVA. 35

them that they should not have an ounce of supplies for
such a purpose.

“But we will pay you for what we ask. We are not
beggars!” exclaimed the astonished Indians, into whose
calculations it had never entered that white traders would
refuse good furs merely in order to prevent the death of
a few Hsquimaux.

“See,” cried the angry governor, snatching up the
nearest bale of furs—<“see, that’s all I care for you or
your payment!” and hurling the pack at its owner's head,
he felled him therewith to the ground. “No,” he con-
tinued, shaking his fist at them, “ I'll not give you as much
powder or shot as would blow off the tail of a rabbit,
if you were to bring me all the skins in Labrador !”

The consequence of this vigorous conduct was that
the Indians retired crest-fallen—vutterly discomfited.
But in the camp that night they plotted revenge. In
the darkness of the night they slaughtered all the cattle
around the establishment, and before daybreak were
over the hills and far away in the direction of their
hunting-erounds, loaded with fresh beef sufficient for the
supply of themselves and their families for the winter !
It was a heavy price to pay; but the poor Esquimaux
remained unmolested that year, while the Indians re-
ceived a salutary lesson. But the compulsory peace was
soon broken, and it became apparent that the only
effectual way to check the bloodthirsty propensity of
the Indians was to arm their enemies with the gun.
The destruction of the first expedition to the Esquimaux,
and the bad feeling that existed in the minds of the na-
tives of Richmond Gulf consequent thereon, induced the
fur-traders to fix on another locality for a new attempt.
Tt was thought that the remote solitudes of Ungava
Bay, at the extreme north of Labrador,—where the white



36 UNGAVA.

man’s axe had never yet felled the stunted pines of the
north, nor the ring of his rifle disturbed its echoes—would
be the spot best suited for the erection of a wooden fort.

Accordingly, it was appointed that Mr. George Stanley
should select a coadjutor, and proceed with a party of
picked men to the scene of action as early in the spring
as the ice would permit, and there build a fort as he
best could, with the best materials he could find; live
on whatever the country afforded in the shape of food ;
establish a trade in oil, whalebone, arctic foxes, etc., etc.
if they were to be got; and bring about a reconciliation
between the Esquimaux and the Indians of the interior,
if that were possible. With the careful minuteness
peculiar to documents, Stanley’s instructions went on to
point out that he was to start from Moose—with two
half-sized canoes, each capable of carrying ten pieces or
packages of 90 lbs. weight each, besides the erew—and
bore through the ice, if the ice would allow him, till he
should reach Richmond Gulf; cross this gulf, and ascend,
if practicable, some of the rivers which fall into it from
the height of land supposed, but not positively known,
to exist somewhere in the interior. Passing this height,
he was to descend by the rivers and lakes (if such ex-
isted) leading to the eastward, until he should fall upon
a river reported to exist in these lands, and called by
the natives Caniapuscaw, or South River, down which
he was to proceed to the scene of his labours, Ungava
Bay; on reaching which he was considerately left to the
unaided guidance of his own discretion! Reduced to
their lowest term and widest signification, the instruc-
tions directed our friend to start as early as he could,
with whom he chose, and with what he liked; travel as
fast as possible over terra incognita to a land of ice—
' perhaps, also, of desolation—and locate himself among



UNGAVA. 37

bloody savages. It was hoped that there would be
found a sufficiency of trees wherewith to build him a
shelter against a prolonged winter; in the meantime he
might enjoy a bright arctic summer sky for his canopy!

But it was known, or at least supposed, that the
Esquimaux were fierce and cruel savages, if not can-
nibals. Their very name implies something of the sort.
It signifies eaters of raw flesh, and was bestowed on
them by their enemies the Muskigons. They call them-
selves Innuit—men, or warriors; and although they
certainly do eat raw flesh when necessity compels them
—which it often does—they asserted that they never
did so from choice. However, be this as it may, the
remembrance of their misdeeds in the first expeditions
was fresh in the minds of the men in the service of the
fur-traders, and they evinced a decided unwillingness to
venture into such a country and among such a people,
—an unwillingness which was only at length overcome
when Mrs. Stanley and her little daughter heroically
volunteered to share the dangers of the expedition in
the manner already narrated.

Stanley now made vigorous preparations for his de-
parture. Some of the men had already been enrolled,
as we have seen, and there were more than enough of
able and active volunteers ready to complete the crews.

“Come hither, lads,” he cried, beckoning to two men
who were occupied on the bank of the river, near the
entrance to Moose Fort, in repairing the side of a canoe.

The men left their work and approached. They were
both Esquimaux, and good stout, broad-shouldered, thick-
set specimens of the race they were. One was called
Oolibuck,* the other Augustus; both of which names are

* This name is spelt as it should be pronounced. The correct spelling is
Ouligbuck.



38 UNGAVA.

now chronicled in the history of arctic adventure as hav-
ing belonged to the well-tried and faithful interpreters
to Franklin, Back, and Richardson, in their expeditions
of north-west discovery.

“Tm glad to see you busy at the canoe, boys,” said
Stanley, as they came up. “Of course you are both
willing to revisit your countrymen.”

“Yes, sir, we is. Glad to go where you choose send
us,” answered Oolibuck, whose broad, oily countenance
lighted up with good-humour as he spoke.

“It will remind you of your trip with Captain Frank-
lin,” continued Stanley, addressing Augustus.

“Me no like to ‘member dat,” said the Esquimau,
with a sorrowful shake of the head. “Me love bour-
geois Franklin, but tink me never see him more.”

“T don’t know that, old fellow,” returned Stanley,
with a smile. “Franklin is not done with his discoveries
yet; there’s a talk of sending off another expedition
some of these days, I hear, so you may have a chance
yet.”

Augustus’s black eyes sparkled with pleasure as he
heard this. He was a man of strong feeling, and dur-
ing his journeyings with our great arctic hero had become
attached to him im consequence of the hearty and un-
varying kindness and consideration with which he treated
all under his command. But the spirit of enterprise had
been long slumbering, and poor Augustus, who was now
past the prime of life, feared that he should never see
his kind master more.

“Now I want you, lads, to get everything in readi-
ness for an immediate start,” continued Stanley, glancing
upwards at the sky; “if the weather holds, we shan’t
be long of paying your friends a visit. Are both canoes
repaired ?”









UNGAVA. 39

“ Yes, sir, they is,’ replied Oolibuck.

“ And the bageage, is it laid out? And—”

“Pardon, monsieur,” interrupted Massan, walking up,
and touching his cap. “Tve jest been down at the
point, and there’s a rig’lar nor’-wester a-comin’ down.
The ice is sweepin’ into the river, an’ it'll be choked up
by to-morrow, I’m afraid.”

Stanley received this piece of intelligence with a slight
frown, and looked seaward, where a dark line on the
horizon and large fields of ice showed that the man’s
surmise was fale to prove correct.

“Tt matters not,” said Stanley, hastily; “I’ve made
arrangements to start to-morrow, and start we shall, in
Spite of ice or wind, if the canoes will float!”

Massan, who had been constituted principal steersman
of the expedition, in virtue of his well-tried skill and
indomitable energy, felt that the tone in which this was
said implied a want of confidence in his willingness to
go under any circumstances, so he said eee

“ Pardon, monsieur ; I did not say we could not start.”

“True, true, Massan; don’t be hurt. I was only
grumbling at the weather,” answered Stanley, with a
laugh.

Just then the first puff of the coming breeze swept up
the river, ruffling its hitherto glassy surface.

“There it comes,” cried Stanley, as he quitted the
spot. “Now, Massan, see to it that the crews are assem-
bled in good time on the beach to-morrow. We start at
daybreak.”

“Oui, monsieur,” replied Massan, as he turned on his
heel and walked away. “Parbleu! we shall indeed start
to-morrow, an’ it please you, if all the ice and wind in
the polar regions was blowed down the coast and crammed
into the river’s mouth. C'est vrai!”



CHAPTER V.

Ice looks unpropitious—The start—An important member of the party nearly
forgotten—Chimo.

TANLEY’S forebodings and Massan’s prognostica-
tions proved partly incorrect on the following
morning. The mouth of the river, and the sea beyond,
were quite full of ice; but it was loose, and intersected
in all directions by lanes of open water. Moreover,
there was no wind.

The gray light of early morning brightened into
dawn, and the first clear ray of the rising sun swept
over a scene more beautiful than ever filled the fancy
of the most imaginative poet of the Temperate Zones.
The sky was perfectly unclouded, and the surface of the
sea was completely covered with masses of ice, whose
tops were pure white like snow, and their sides a
delicate greenish-blue, their dull, frosted appearance
forming a striking contrast to the surrounding water,
which shone, when the sun glanced upon it, like bur-
nished silver. The masses of ice varied endlessly in
form and size, some being flat and large like fields,
others square and cornered like bastions or towers—
here a miniature temple with spires and minarets, there
a crystal fortress with embrasures and battlements; and,
in the midst of these, thousands of broken fragments,
having all the varied outlines of the larger masses,







UNGAVA. 4

appearing like the smaller houses, cottages, and villas
of this floating city of ice.

“Oh how concn exclaimed little Edith, as her
father led her and Mrs. Stanley towards the canoes,
which floated lightly in the water, while the men stood
in a picturesque group beside them, leaning on their
bright red. paddles.

“Tt is indeed, my pet,” replied Stanley, a smile almost
of sadness playing around his lips.

“Come, George, don’t let evil forebodings assail you
to-day,” said Mrs. Stanley in a low tone. “It does not
become the leader of a forlorn-hope to cast a shade over
the spirits of his men at the very outset.” She smiled
as she said this, and pressed his arm; but despite her-
self, there was more of sadness in the smile and in the
pressure than she intended to convey.

Stanley’s countenance assumed its usual firm but
cheerful expression while she spoke. “True, Jessie,
I must not damp the men; but when I look at you
and our darling Eda, I may be forgiven for betraying
a passing glance of anxiety. May the Almighty pro-
tect you !”

“Ts the country we are going to like this, papa?”
inquired Eda, whose intense admiration of the fairylike
scene rendered her oblivious of all else.

“Yes, dear, more like this than anything else you
have ever seen; but the sun does not always shine so
brightly as it does just now, and sometimes there are
terrible snow-storms. But we will build you a nice
house, Eda, with a very large fire-place, so that we

won't feel the cold.”

The entire population of Moose Fort was assembled
on the beach to witness the departure of the expedi-
tion. The party consisted of fifteen souls. As we



42 UNGAVA.

shall follow them to the icy regions of Ungava, it
may be worth while to rehearse their names in order
as follows :—

Mr. and Mrs. Staniey and Epitx.

Frank Morton.

Massan, the guide.

Dick PRINCE, principal hunter to the party.

La Rocug, Stanley’s servant and cook.

Bryan, the blacksmith.

FRANCo!s, the carpenter.

OOLIBUCK,

AuGuUSTUS, )Esquimau interpreters.

Moszs,

GASPARD, labourer and fisherman.

OOSTESIMOW,

Ma-IsTEQUAN,

The craft in which these were about to embark were

three canoes, two of which were large and one small.
They were made of birch bark, a substance which is
tough, light, and buoyant, and therefore admirably
adapted for the construction of craft that have not
only to battle against strong and sometimes shallow
currents, but have frequently to be carried on the
shoulders of their crews over rocks and mountains.
The largest canoe was sixteen feet long by five feet
broad in the middle, narrowing gradually towards the
bow and stern to a sharp edge. Its loading consisted
of bales, kegs, casks, and bundles of goods and provi-
sions; each bale or cask weighed exactly 90 lbs., and was
called a piece. There were fifteen pieces in the canoe,
besides the crew of six men, and Mr. Stanley and his
family, who occupied the centre, where their bedding,
tied up in flat bundles and covered with oiled cloth,
formed a comfortable couch. Notwithstanding the size

finan guides and hunters.



UNGAVA. 43

and capacity of this craft, it had been carried down to
the beach on the shoulders of Massan and Dick Prince,
who now stood at its bow and stern, preventing it with
their paddles from rubbing its frail sides against the
wharf; for although the bark is tough, and will stand
a great deal of tossing in water and plunging among
rapids, it cannot sustain the slightest blow from a rock or
other hard substance without being cracked, or having the
eum which covers the seams scraped off. To those who
are unacquainted with travelling in the wild regions of
the north it would seem impossible that a long journey
could be accomplished in such tender boats; but a little
experience proves that, by judicious treatment and careful
management, voyages of great length may be safely accom-
plished in them—that they are well adapted for the
necessities of the country, and can be taken with greater
ease through a rough, broken, and mountainous region
than ordinary wooden boats, even of smaller size, could be.

The second canoe was in all respects similar to the
one we have described, excepting that it was a few
inches shorter. The third was much smaller—so small
that it could not contain more than three men, with
their provisions and a few bales, and so light that it
could with the greatest ease be carried on the shoulders
of one man. It was intended to serve as a sort of
pioneer and hunting craft, which should lead the way,
dart hither and thither in pursuit of game, and warn
the main body of any danger that should threaten them
ahead. It was manned by the two Indian guides, Oostesi-
mow and Ma-istequan, and by Frank Morton, who being
acknowledged one of the best shots of the party, was by
tacit understanding regarded as commissary-general. It
might have been said that Frank was the best shot,
were it not for the fact that the aim of Dick Prince



44, UNGAVA.

was perfect, and it is generally admitted that perfection
cannot be excelled.

Although differing widely in their dispositions and
appearance, the men of the expedition were similar at
least in one respect—they were all first-rate, and had
been selected as being individually superior to their
comrades at Moose Fort. And a noble set of fellows
they looked, as they stood beside their respective canoes,
leaning on their little, brilliantly coloured paddles, await-
ing the embarkation of their leaders. They all wore
new suits of clothes, which were sufficiently similar to
give the effect of a uniform, yet so far varied in detail
as to divest them of monotony, and relieve the eye by
agreeable contrast of bright colours. All of them wore
light-blue cloth capotes with hoods hanging down
behind, all had corduroy trousers gartered below the
knee, and all wore moccasins, and had fire-bags stuck
in their belts, in which were contained the materials
for producing fire, tobacco, and pipes. So far they were
alike, but the worsted belts of some were scarlet, of
others crimson, and of others striped. Some gartered
their trousers with thongs of leather, others used elegant
bands of bead-work—the gifts, probably, of sorrowing
sweethearts, sisters, or mothers— while the fire-bags,
_ besides being composed some of blue, some of scarlet
cloth, were ornamented more or less with flowers and
fanciful devices elegantly wrought in the gaily-dyed
quills of the porcupine.

On seeing Stanley and his wife and child approach-
ing, Massan gave the order to embark. In a moment
every man divested himself of his capote, which he
folded up and placed on the seat he was to occupy ;
then, shaking hands all round for the last time, they
stepped lightly and carefully into their places.



UNGAVA. 45

“All ready I see, Massan,” said Stanley, as he came
up, “and the ice seems pretty open. How say you?
shall we make a good day of it?”

Massan smiled dubiously as he presented his thick
shoulder as a support to Mrs. Stanley, while she stepped
into her place. He remembered the conversation of the
previous evening, and determined that, whatever should
happen, he at least would not cast the shadow of a
doubt on their prospects. But in his own mind he
suspected that their progress would be interrupted ere
long, as the wind, although very light—almost imper-
ceptible—was coming from the north-west.

“T¢1l be full flood in less nor half-an-hour,” he replied,
“and—(take care, Miss Edith, give me your little hand ;
there, now, jump light)—and we'll be past the pint by
that time, and git the good o’ the ebb till sun-down.”

“T fear,” said Frank Morton, approaching, “that the
ice is rather thick for us; but it don’t much matter, it
will only delay us a bit—-and at any rate we'll make
good way as far as the point.”

“True, true,” said Stanley; “and it’s a great matter
to get fairly started. Once off, we must go forward.
All ready, lads ?”

“ Ay, ay, six.”

“ Now, Frank, into your canoe and show us the way;
mind we trust to your guidance to keep us clear of
blind alleys among these lanes of water in the ice.”

At this moment Edith—who had been for the last
few minutes occupied in alternately drying her eyes and
kissing her hands to a group of little children who had
been her play-fellows during her sojourn at the fort—
uttered a loud exclamation.

“Oh! oh! papa, mamma—Chimo !—-we've forgot
Chimo! Oh me! don’t go away yet!”





46 UNGAVA.

“So we have!” said her father; “dear me, how
stupid to forget our old friend !—Hallo! Frank, Frank,
we've forgot the dog,” shouted Stanley to his young
comrade, who was on the point of starting.

On hearing this, Frank gave a long shrill whistle.
“That'll bring him if he’s within ear-shot.”

When the well-known sound broke upon Chimo’s ear,
he was lying coiled up in front of the kitchen fire, being
privileged to do so in consequence of his position as
Edith’s favourite. The cook, having gone out a few
minutes previously, had left Chimo to enjoy his slumbers
in solitude, so that, when he started suddenly to his
feet on hearing Frank’s whistle, he found himself a
prisoner. But Chimo was a peculiarly strong-minded
and strong-bodied dog, and was possessed of an iron
will! He was of the Esquimau breed, and bore some
resemblance to the Newfoundland, but was rather shorter
in the legs, longer in the body, and more powerfully
made. Moreover, he was more shaggy, and had a stout,
blunt, straightforward appearance, which conveyed to
the beholder the idea that he scorned flattery, and would
not consent to be petted on any consideration. Indeed
this was the case, for he always turned away with quiet
contempt from any of the men who attempted to fondle
him. He made an exception, however, of little Edith,
whom he not only permitted to clap him to any extent,
but deliberately invited her to do so by laying his great
head in her lap, rubbing himself against her, and wag-
ging his bushy tail, as if to say, “Now, little girl, do
what you will with me!” And Eda never refused the
animal’s dumb-show request. When she was very young
and had not much sense—at which time Chimo was
young too, but possessed of a great deal of sense—she
formed a strong affection for the Esquimau dog, an



UNGAVA. A

affection which she displayed by putting her little arms
round his neck and hugging him until he felt a tendency
to suffocation; she also pulled his ears and tail, and
stuffed her fat little hands into his eyes and mouth,—all
of which dreadful actions she seemed to think, in her
childish ignorance, must be very pleasant to Chimo, and
all of which the dog appeared really to enjoy. At all
events, whether he liked it or not, he came regularly
to have himself thus treated every day. As Eda grew
older she left off choking her favourite and poking out
his eyes, and contented herself with caressing him.
Chimo also evinced a partiality for Mr. Stanley and
Frank Morton, and often accompanied the latter on his
hunting excursions; but he always comported himself
towards them with dignified hauteur, accepting their
caresses with a slight wag of acknowledgment, but
never courting their favour.

On jumping up, as we have already said, and observ-
ing that the door was shut, the dog looked slowly and
calmly round the apartment, as if to decide on what
was best to be done; for Chimo was a dog of great
energy of character, and was never placed in any cir-
cumstances in which he did not pursue some decided
course of action. On the present occasion there was
not a hole, except the key-hole, by which he could hope
to make his escape. Yes, by-the-by, there was a hole
in the window, which was made of parchment ; but as
that was merely the bullet-hole through which the
animal that had given his skin for a window had been
shot, and was not larger than a shilling, it did not afford
much hope. Nevertheless Chimo regarded it with a
steady gaze for a minute or two, then he turned to the
fire, and having satisfied himself that the chimney was
impracticable, being full of flames and smoke, he faced



48 UNGAVA.

the window once more, and showed his teeth, as if in
chagrin.

“Whew-ew! Chimo-o-o!” came Frank’s voice, float-
ing faintly from afar. Chimo took aim at the bullet-
hole. One vigorous bound—a horrible crash, that
nearly caused the returning cook to faint—and the
dog was free.

“Ah, here he comes !—good dog!” cried Frank, as
the animal came bounding over intervening obstacles
towards the canoes. Chimo made straight for the small
canoe, in answer to his master’s call; but, like many
dogs and not a few men, he owned a higher power than
that of a master. The voice of his little mistress
sounded sweetly in his ear, like the sound of a silver
bell. “O Chimo, Chimo! my darling pet! come here
—here.” It was a soft, tiny voice at the loudest, and
was quite drowned amid the talking and laughter of the
men, but Chimo heard it. Turning at a sharp angle
from his course, he swept past the light canoe, and
bounding into that of Mr. Stanley, lay down beside
Eda and placed his head in her lap, where it was
immediately smothered in the caresses of its young
niistress.

Mr. Stanley smiled and patted his little girl on the
shoulder, as he said, “That’s right, Eda; the love of
a faithful dog is worth having and cherishing.” Then
turning towards the stern of the canoe, where Massan
stood erect, with his steering paddle ready for action,
he said to that worthy,—

“ Now, Massan, all ready ; give the word.”

“ Ho, ho, boys; forward!”

The paddles dipped simultaneously in the water with
a loud, gurgling sound; the two large canoes shot out
into the stream abreast of each other, preceded by the



UNGAVA. 49

light one, which, urged forward by the powerful arms
of Frank and the two Indians, led the way among the
floating fields of ice. The people on shore took off
their caps and waved a last farewell. Dick Prince, who
possessed a deep, loud, sonorous voice, began one of those
beautiful and wild yet plaintive songs peculiar to the
voyageurs of the wilderness. The men joined, with a
full, rich swell, in the chorus, as they darted forward
with arrow-like speed—and the voyage began.



CHAPTER VI

Character partially developed—Ducks for supper—A threatened nap —
Bundled out on the ice.

ORTUNATELY the wind veered round to the
south-east soon after the departure of the canoes
from Moose Fort, and although there was not enough of
it to ruffle the surface of the river, it had the effect
of checking the influx of ice from James’s Bay, The
tide, too, began to ebb, so that the progress of the
canoes was even more rapid than it appeared to be;
and long before the sun set, they were past the point
at the mouth of the river, and coasting along the shores
of the salt ocean.

Outside of them the sea was covered with hummocks
and fields of ice, some of which ever and anon met in
the cross currents caused by the river, with a violent
shock. Close to the shore, however, the thickness of
the ice caused it to strand, leaving a lane of open water,
along which the canoes proceeded easily, the depth of
water being much more than sufficient for them, as the
largest canoe did not draw more than a foot. Some-
times, however, this space was blocked up by smaller
fragments, and considerable difficulty was experienced
in steering the canoes amongst them. Had the party
travelled in boats, they would have easily dashed through
many of these checks; but with canoes it is far otherwise.



UNGAVA. 51

Not only are their bark sides easily broken, but the
seams are covered with a kind of pitch which becomes
so brittle in ice-cold water that it chips off in large
lumps with the slightest touch. For the sea, therefore,
boats are best; but when it comes to carrying the craft
over waterfalls and up mountain sides, for days and weeks
together, canoes are more useful, owing to their lightness.

“Take care, Massan,” said Mr. Stanley, on approach-
ing one of these floes. “Don’t chip the gum off if you
can help it. If we spring a leak, we shan’t spend our
first night on a pleasant camping-ground, for the shore
just hereabouts does not look inviting.”

“No fear, sir,” replied Massan. “Dick Prince is in
the bow, and as long as his mouth’s shut I keep my
mind easy.”

“You appear to have unlimited confidence in Prince,”
said Stanley, with a smile. “Does he never fail in any-
thing, that you are so sure of him ?”

“Fail!” exclaimed the steersman, whose paddle swept
constantly in a circle round his head, while he changed
it from side to side as the motions of the canoe required
—*fail! ay, that does he sometimes. Mortal man must
get on the wrong side o’ luck now and then. I’ve seen
Dick Prince fail, but I never saw him make a mistake.”

“Well, I’ve no doubt that he deserves your good
opinion. Nevertheless, be more than ordinarily careful.
If you had a wife and child in the canoe, Massan, you
would understand my anxiety better.” Stanley smiled
as he said this, and the worthy steersman replied in a
grave tone,—

“T have the wife and child of my bourgeois under
my care.”

“True, true, Massan,” said Stanley, lying back on his
couch and conversing with his wife in an undertone.



52 UNGAVA.

«Tis curious,” said he, “to observe the confidence that
Massan has in Prince; and yet it would be difficult to say
wherein consists the superiority of the one over the other.”

“Perhaps it is the influence of a strong mind over a
weaker,” suggested his wife.

“Ti may be so. Yet Prince is an utterly uneducated
man. True, he shoots a hair’s-breadth better than
Massan; but he is not a better canoeman, neither is
he more courageous, and he is certainly less powerful :
nevertheless Massan looks up to him and speaks of him
as if he were greatly his superior. The secret of his
power must lie in that steady, never-wavering inflexi-
bility of purpose, that characterizes our good bowman in
everything he does.”

“Papa,” said Edith, who had been holding a long con-
yersation with Chimo on the wonders of the scene
around them—if we may call that a conversation where
the one party does all the talking and the other all the
listening—‘ papa, where shall we all sleep to-night ?”

The thought seemed to have struck her for the first
time, and she looked up eagerly for an answer, while
Chimo gave a deep sigh of indifference, and went to
sleep, or pretended to do so, where he was.

“In the woods, Eda. How do you think you will
like it 2”

“Oh, I’m sure I shall like it very much,” replied the
little one. “Ive often wished to live in the woods
altogether, like the Indians, and do nothing but wander
about and pull berries.”

“ Ah, Jessie,” said Stanley, “what an idle little bag-
gage your daughter is! I fear she’s a true chip of the
old block !”

“Which do you consider the old block,” retorted Mrs.
Stanley —* you or me?”









UNGAVA. 53

“Never mind,wife; we'll leave that an open question.—
But tell me, Eda, don’t you think that wandering about
and pulling berries would be a very useless sort of
life ?” :

“No,” replied Edith, gravely. “Mamma, often tells
me that God wants me to be happy, and I’m quite sure
that wandering about all day in the beautiful woods
would make me happy.”

“But, my darling,” said Stanley, smiling at the sim-
plicity of this plausible argument in favour of an idle
life, “don’t you know that we ought to try to make
others happy too, as well as durselves ?”

“Oh yes,” replied Eda, with a bright smile, “I know
that, papa; and I would try to make everybody happy
by going with them and showing them where the finest
flowers and berries were to be found; and so we would
all be happy together, and that’s what God wants, is
it not?”

Mr. Stanley glanced towards his wife with an arch
smile. “There, Jessie, what think you of that?”

“Nay, husband, what think you ?”

“TI think,” he replied in an undertone, “that your
Sagacious teaching against idleness, and in favour of
diligence and attention to duty, and so forth, has not
taken very deep root yet.”

“And J think,” said Mrs. Stanley, “ that however wise
you men may be in some things, you are all most incom-
prehensibly stupid in regard to the development of young
minds.”

“Take care now, Jessie; you’re verging upon meta-
physics. But you have only given me your opinion of
Men as.yet; you have still to say what you think of
Eda’s acknowledged predilection for idleness.”

“Well,” replied Mrs. Stanley, “I think that my



54 UNGAVA.

sagacious teaching, as you are pleased to call it, has
taken pretty firm root already, and that Eda’s speech is
one of the first bright, beautiful blossoms, from which
we may look for much fruit hereafter; for to make
one’s self and one’s fellow-creatures happy, because such
és the will of God, seems to me a simple and comprehen-
sive way of stating the whole duty of man.”

Stanley’s eyes opened a little at this definition. “ Hum!
multum in parvo; it may be so,” he said; and casting
down his eyes, he was soon lost in a profound reverie,
while the canoe continued to progress forward by little
inipulsive bounds, under the rapid stroke of the paddles.
Eda rested her fair cheek on the shaggy brow of Chimo,
and accompanied him to the land of nod, until the sun
began to sink behind the icebergs on the seaward
horizon, where a dark line indicated an approaching
breeze.

Massan cast an uneasy glance at this from time to
time. At length he called to his friend in the bow,
“Hallo, Prince! will it come stiff, think ye?”

“No,” replied Prince, rising and shading his eyes with
his hand; “itll be only a puff; but that’s enough to
drive the ice down on us, an’ shut up the open water.”

“It’s my pinion,” said Massan, “that we should hold
away for the p’int yonder, an’ camp there.”

Dick Prince nodded assent, and resumed his paddle.

As he did so the report of a gun came sharply over
the water.

“ Ha!” exclaimed Stanley, looking out ahead ; “what's
that ?”

“Only Mr. Frank,” said Massan; “he’s dowsed two
birds. I seed them splash into the water.”

“That's right,’ said Stanley; “we shall have some-
thing fresh for the kettle to-night. And, by the way,



UNGAVA. 55

we'll need all we can kill, for we haven’t much provision
to depend on, and part of it must be reserved in case of
accidents, so that if Frank does not do his duty, we shall
have to live on birch bark, Massan.”

“That would be rayther tough, I’m afeerd,” replied
the steersman, laughing. “I’ve tried the tail o’ a deer-
skin coat afore now, an’ it wasn’t much to boast of ; but
I niver tried a birch-bark steak. I doubt it would need
a power o’ chewin’!”

By this time the two large canoes had drawn grad-
ually nearer to the leading one. As they approached
Frank ordered his men to cease paddling.

“Well, Frank, what success?” said’ Stanley, as they
came up.

“There’s our supper,” cried Frank, tossing a large
duck into the canoe; “and there’s a bite for the men,”
he added, sending a huge gray goose into the midst of
them. “I saw a herd of reindeer on the other side of
the point; but the ice closed up the passage, and pre-
vented me from getting within range. It will stop our
further progress for to-night too; so I waited to advise
you to camp here.”

“There it comes!” cried Dick Prince. “Jump out on
the ice, lads, and unload as fast as you can.”

As Dick spoke he sprang on to a field of ice which
was attached to the shore, and drawing the cance along-
side, began hastily to remove the cargo. His example
was instantly followed by the men, who sprang over
the gunwales like cats; and in less than five minutes
the cargoes were scattered over the ice. Meanwhile, the
breeze which Massan had observed continued to freshen,
and the seaward ice bore rapidly down on the shore,
gradually narrowing and filling up the lanes of water
among which the travellers had been hitherto wending



56 UNGAVA.

their way. Dick Prince’s sudden action was caused by
his observing a large solid field, which bore down on
them with considerable rapidity. His warning was just
in time, for the goods were scarcely landed and the three
canoes lifted out of the water, when the ice closed in
with a crash that would have ground the frail barks to
pieces, and the passage was closed up. So completely
was every trace of water obliterated, that it seemed as
though there never had been any there before.



CHAPTER VII

Shows how the party made themselves at home in the bush—Talk round the
camp fire—A flash of temper—Turning in.

HE spot where they were thus suddenly arrested

in their progress was a small bay, formed by a

low point which jutted from the mainland, and shut out
the prospect in advance. There was little or no wood
on the point, except a few stunted willows, which being
green and small would not, as La Roche the cook re-
marked, “make a fire big enough to roast the wing of
a mosquito.” There was no help for it, however. The
spot on which Massan had resolved to encamp for the
night was three miles on the other side of the point,
and as the way was now solid ice instead of water,
there was no possibility of getting there until a change
of wind should drive the ice off the shore. Moreover,
it was now getting dark, and it behoved them to make
their preparations with as much speed as possible. Ac-
cordingly, Massan and Prince shouldered one canoe,
Francois and Gaspard carried the other, and the light
one was placed on the shoulders of Bryan the black-
smith ; La Roche took the provision-basket and cooking
utensils under his special charge ; while the three Esqui-
mau interpreters and the two Indian guides busied
themselves in carrying the miscellaneous goods and
baggage into camp. As for Chimo, he seated himself



58 UNGAVA.

quietly on a lump of ice, and appeared to superin-
tend the entire proceedings; while his young mistress
and her mother, accompanied by Frank and Stanley,
crossed the ice to the shore, to select a place for their
encampment.

But it was some time ere a suitable place could be
found, as the point happened to be low and swampy,
and poor Eda’s first experience of a life in the woods
was stepping into a hole which took her up to the knees
in mud and water. She was not alone, however, in
misfortune, for just at the same moment Bryan passed
through the bushes with his canoe, and staggered into
the same swamp, exclaiming as he did so, in a rich
brogue which many years’ residence among the French
half-breeds of Rupert's Land had failed to soften,
“Thunder an’ turf! such a blackguard counthry I niver
did see. Och, Bryan dear, why did ye iver lave yer
native land ?”

“Pourquoi, why, mon boy? for ver’ goot raison,”
eried La Roche, in a horrible compound of French and
broken English, as he skipped lightly past, with a loud
laugh, “for ver’ goot raison—dey was tired of you to
home, vraiment. You was too grande raskale; dey
could not keep you no longer.”

“Thrue for ye,,La Roche,” replied the blacksmith,
“thrue for ye, boy; they sartinly could not keep me on
nothin’, an’ as the murphies was all sp’iled wi’ the rot,
I had to lave or starve.”

At last, after a long search, Frank Morton found a
spot pretty well adapted for their purpose. It was an
elevated plot of gravel, which was covered with a thin
carpet of herbage, and surrounded by a belt of willows,
which proved a sufficient shelter against the wind. A
low and rather shaggy willow-tree spread its branches



UNGAVA. 59

over the spot, and gave to it a good deal of the feeling
and appearance of shelter, if not much of the reality.
This was of little consequence, however, as the night
proved fine and comparatively mild, so that the black
vault of heaven, spangled with hosts of brilliant stars,
amply compensated for the want of a leafy canopy.

Under the willow-tree, Frank and La Roche busied
themselves in spreading a very small white tent for
Mr. Stanley and his family. Frank himself, although
entitled from his position in the Company’s service to
the luxury of a tent, scorned to use one, preferring to
rough it like the men, and sleep beneath the shelter of
the small canoe. Meanwhile, Mr. Stanley proceeded to
strike a light with his flint and steel, and Bryan, having
deposited his burden near the tent, soon collected a
sufficiency of drift-wood to make a good fire. Edith and
her mother were not idle in the midst of this busy scene.
They collected a few bundles of dried twigs to make
the fire light more easily, and after the blaze was casting
its broad glare of light over the camp, and the tent was
pitched, they assisted La Roche in laying the cloth for
supper. Of course, in a journey like this, none but neces-
sary articles were taken, and these were of the most
homely character. The kettle was the tea-pot, the cups
were tin pannikins, and the table-cloth was a large
towel, while the table itself was the eround, from the
damp of which, however, the party in the tent were
protected by an ample oil-cloth.

When all the things were carried up, and the men
assembled, the camp presented the following appearance :
in the centre of the open space, which nature had ar-
ranged in the form of a circle, blazed the fire; and a
right jovial, sputtering, outrageous fire it was, sending
its sparks flying in all directions, like the artillery of a



60 UNGAVA.

beleaguered fortress in miniature, and rolling its flames
about in fierce and wayward tongues, that seemed bent
on licking in and swallowing up the entire party, but
more especially La Roche, who found no little difficulty
in paying due attention to his pots and kettles. Some-
times the flames roared fiercely upwards, singeing off
the foliage of the overhanging willow as they went, and
then, bursting away from their parent fire, portions of
them floated off for a few seconds on the night air.
On the weather side of this fire stood Mr. Stanley’s
tent, under the willow-tree, as before described, its pure
white folds showing strongly against the darkness of
the sky beyond. The doorway, or curtain of the tent,
was open, displaying the tea-equipage within, and the
smiling countenances of Stanley and his wife, Frank
and Eda, who, seated on blankets and shawls around
the towel, were preparing to make an assault on the
fat duck before mentioned. This duck had been split
open and roasted on a piece of stick before the blaze,
and now stood with the stumps of its wings and legs
extended, as if demanding urgently to be eaten—a de-
mand which Chimo, who crouched near the doorway,
could scarce help complying with.

To the right of the tent was placed the small canoe,
bottom up, so as to afford a partial protection to the
bedding which Oostesimow was engaged in spreading
out for Frank and himself and his comrade Ma-istequan.
Facing this, at the other side of the fire, and on the left
of the tent, the largest canoe was turned up in a similar
manner, and several of the men were engaged in cover-
ing the ground beneath it with a layer of leaves and
branches, above which they spread their blankets ; while
others lounged around the fire and smoked their beloved
pipes, or watched with impatient eyes the operations of



UNGAVA. 61

Bryan, who, being accustomed to have familiar dealings
with the fire, had been deemed worthy of holding the
office of cook to the men, and was inducted accordingly.

It is due to Bryan to say that he fully merited the
honour conferred upon him; for never, since the days
of Vulcan, was there a man seen who could daringly
dabble in the fire as he did. He had a peculiar sleight-
of-hand way of seizing hold of and tossing about red-
hot coals with his naked hand, that induced one to be-

lieve he must be made of leather. Flames seemed to
have no effect whatever on his sinewy arms when they
licked around them; and as for smoke, he treated it
with benign contempt. Not so La Roche: with the
mercurial temperament of his class he leaped about the
fire, during his culinary operations, in a way that afforded
infinite amusement to his comrades, and not unfrequently
brought him into violent collision with Bryan, who
usually received him on such occasions with a strong
Trish growl, mingled with a disparaging or contemptuous
remark.

Beyond the circle of light thrown by the fire was the
belt of willows which encompassed the camp on all sides
except towards the sea, where a narrow gap formed a
natural entrance and afforded a glimpse of the ocean
with its fields and hummocks of ice floating on its calm
bosom and glancing in the faint light of the moon, which
was then in its first quarter.

“How comfortable and snug everything is!” said Mrs.
Stanley, as she poured out the tea, while her husband
carved the duck.

“Yes, isn’t it, Eda?” said Frank, patting his favourite
on the head, as he held out her plate for a wing.
“There, give her a bit of the breast too,” he added. “I
know she’s ravenously hungry, for I saw her looking at



62 UNGAVA.

Chimo, just before we landed, as if she meant to eat him
for supper without waiting to have him cooked.”

“© Frank, how can you be so wicked?” said Eda,
taking up her knife and fork and attacking the wing
with so much energy as almost to justify her friend's
assertion.

“Snug, said you, Jessie? yes, that’s the very word to
express it,” said Stanley. “There's no situation that I
know of (and I wasn’t born yesterday) that is so per-
fectly snug, and in all respects comfortable, as an en-
campment in the woods on a fine night in spring or
autumn.”

“Or winter,” added Frank, swallowing a pannikin of
tea at a draught, nodding to Chimo, as much as to say,
“Do that if you can, old fellow,” and handing it to Mrs.
Stanley to be replenished. “Don’t omit winter—cold,
sharp, sunny winter. An encampment in the snow, in
fine weather, is as snug as this.”

“ Rather cold, is it not?” said Mrs. Stanley.

“Cold! not a bit,” replied Frank, making a reckless
dive with his hand into the biscuit-bag; “if you have
enough wood to get up a roaring fire, six feet long by
three broad and four deep, with a bank of snow five
feet high all around ye, a pine-tree with lots of thick
branches spreading overhead to keep off the snow, and
two big green blankets to keep out the frost—(another
leg of that widgeon, please)—you've no notion how
snug it is, I assure you.”

“Hum!” ejaculated Stanley, with a dubious smile,
“you forgot to add—a youthful, robust frame, with
the blood careering through the veins like wild-fire, to
your catalogue of requisites. No doubt it is pleasant
enough in its way; but commend me to spring or
autumn for thorough enjoyment, when the air is mild,



UNGAVA. 63

and the waters flowing, and the woods green and
beautiful.”

“Why don’t you speak of summer, papa?” said Eda,
who had been listening intently to this conversation.

“Summer, my pet! because—”

“Allow me to explain,” interrupted Frank, laying
down his knife and fork, and placing the fore-finger of
his right hand in his left palm, as if he were about to
make a speech.

“ Because, Eda, because there is such a thing as heat—
long-continued, never-ending, sweltering heat. Because
there are such reprehensible and unutterably detestable
insects as mosquitoes, and sand-flies, and bull-dogs;
and there is such a thing as being bitten, and stung,
and worried, and sucked into a sort of partial madness ;
and I have seen such sights as men perpetually slapping
their own faces, and scratching the skin off their own
cheeks with their own nails, and getting no relief thereby,
but rather making things worse; and I have, moreover,
seen men’s heads swelled until the eyes and noses were
lost, and the mouths only visible when opened, and their
general aspect like that of a Scotch haggis; and there
is a time when all this accumulates on man and beast
till the latter takes to the water in desperation, and
the former takes to intermittent insanity, and that time
is—swmmer.—Another cup, please, Mrs. Stanley. ’Pon
my conscience it creates thirst to think of it.”

At this stage the conversation of the party in the
tent was interrupted by a loud peal of laughter mingled
with not a few angry exclamations from the men. La
Roche, in one of his frantic leaps to avoid a tongue of
flame which shot out from the fire with a vicious velocity
towards his eyes, came into violent contact with Bryan
while that worthy was in the act of lifting a seething-



64 UNGAVA.

kettle of soup and boiled pork from the fire. Fortu-
nately for the party whose supper was thus placed in
jeopardy, Bryan stood his ground; but La Roche, trip-
ping over a log, fell heavily among the pannikins, tin
plates, spoons, and knives, which had been just laid out
on the ground in front of the canoe.

“ Ach! mauvais chien,” growled Gaspard, as he picked
up and threw away the fragments of his pipe, “you're
always cuttin’ and jumpin’ about like a monkey.”

“Oh! pauvre crapaud,” cried Frangois, laughing ;
“don’t abuse him, Gaspard. He’s a useful dog in his
way.”

“Tare an’ ages! you've done it now, ye have. Bad
luck to ye! wasn’t I for iver tellin’ ye that same.
Shure, if it wasn’t that ye’re no bigger or heavier than
a wisp o pea straw, ye’d have cee me and the soup
into the fire, ye would. Be the big toe o’ St. Patrick,
not to mintion his riverince the Pope—”

“Come, come, Bryan,” cried Massan, “don’t speak ill
o’ the Pope, an’ down wi’ the ketitle.”

“The kittle, is it? Sorra a kittle yell touch, Massan,
till it’s cool enough to let us all start fair at wance.
Ye’ve got yer mouth and throat lined wi’ brass, I
believe, an’ would ate the half o’'t before a soul of us
could taste it!”

“Don’t insult me, you red-faced racoon,’ retorted
Massan, while he and his comrades circled round the
kettle, and began a vigorous attack on the scalding
mess; “my throat is not so used to swallowin’ fire as
your own. I never knowed a man that payed into the
grub as you do. Bah! how hot it is—I say, Oolibuck,
doesn’t it remember you o’ the dogs o’ yer own country,
when they gits the stone kettle to clean out?”

Oolibuck’s broad visage expanded with a chuckle as



UNGAVA. 65

he lifted an enormous wooden spoonful of soup to his
ample mouth. “Me tink de dogs of de Innuit * make
short work of dis kettle if ’e had ‘im.”

“Do the dogs of the Huskies eat with their masters ?”
inquired Frangois, as he groped in the kettle with his
fork in search of a piece of pork.

“Dey not eat wid der masters, but dey al’ays clean
hout de kettle,” replied Moses, somewhat indignantly.

“Ha!” exclaimed Massan, pausing for a few minutes
to recover breath ; “yes, they always let the dogs finish
off the feast. Ye must know, comrades, that I’ve seed
them do it myself—anyways, I’ve seed a man that knew
@ feller who said he had a comrade that wintered once
with the Huskies, which is pretty much the same thing.
An’ he said that sometimes when they kill a big seal,
they boil it whole an’ have a rig’lar feast. Ye must
understand, mes gargons, that the Huskies make thumpin’
big kittles out o’ a kind o’ soft stone they find in them
parts, an’ some o’ them’s big enough to boil a whole seal
in. Well, when the beast is cooked, they take it out 0’
the pot, an’ while they're tuckin’ into it, the dogs come
and sit in a ring round the pot to wait till the soup’s
cool enough to eat. They knows well that it’s too hot
at first, an’ that they must have a deal o’ patience; but
afore long some o’ the young uns can’t hold on, so they
steps up somewhat desperate like, and pokes their snouts
in, Of course they pulls them out pretty sharp with a
yell, and sit down to rub their noses for a bit longer.
Then the old uns take courage an’ make a snap at it
now and again, but very tenderly, till it gits cooler at
last, an’ then at it they go, worryin’, an’ scufflin’, an’
barkin’, an’ gallopin’, just like Moses there, till the pot’s
as clean as the day it wos made.”

* Tisquimaux.

5



66 UNGAVA.

“Hal ha! oh, ver’ goot, tres bien; ah! mon cceur,
just tres splendiferous!” shouted La Roche, whose risi-
bility was always easily tickled.

« Ti’s quite true, though—isn’t it, Moses ?” said Massan,
as he once more applied to the kettle, while some of his
comrades cut up the goose that Frank had shot in the ~
afternoon.

“Why, Moses, what a capacity you have for grub!”
said Francois. “If your countrymen are anything like
you, I don’t wonder that they have boiled seals and
whales for dinner.”

“I¢ll take a screamin’ kittle for a whale,” spluttered
Bryan, with his mouth full, “an’ a power o’ dogs to
drink the broth.”

“You tink you funny, Bryan,” retorted Moses, while
an. oily smile beamed on his fat, good-humoured counte-
nance; “but you not; you most dreadful stupid.”

“Thrue for ye, Moses; I was oncommon stupid to let
you sit so long beside the kittle,” replied the Irishman,
as he made a futile effort to scrape another spoonful
from the bottom of it. “Och! but ye’ve licked it as
clane as one of yer own dogs could ha’ done it.”

“Mind your eye!” growled Gaspard, at the same time
giving La Roche a violent push, as that volatile worthy,
in one of his eccentric movements, nearly upset his can
of waiter.

“Oh! pardon, monsieur,” exclaimed La Roche, in pre-
tended sorrow, at the same time making a grotesque bow
that caused a general peal of laughter.

“Why, one might as well travel with a sick bear as
with you, Gaspard,” said Frangois half angrily.

“Hold your jaw,” replied Gaspard.

“Not at your bidding,” retorted Frangois, half rising
from his reclining posture, while his colour heightened.



UNGAVA. 67

Gaspard had also started up, and it seemed as if the
little camp were in danger of becoming a scene of
strife, when Dick Prince, who was habitually silent and
unobtrusive, preferring generally to listen rather than to
speak, laid his hand on Gaspard’s broad shoulder and
pulled him somewhat forcibly to the ground.

“Shame on you, comrades!” he said, in a low, grave
voice, that instantly produced a dead silence; “shame
on you, to quarrel on our first night in the bush! We've
few enough friends in these parts, I think, that we
should make enemies o’ each other.”

“That's well said,’ cried Massan, in a very decided
tone. “It won’t do to fall out when there’s so few of
us.” And the stout voyageur thrust his foot against
the logs on the fire, causing a rich cloud of sparks to
ascend, as if to throw additional light on his remark.

“Pardon me, mes comrades,” cried Francois; “I did
not intend to quarrel;” and he extended his hand to
Gaspard, who took it in silence, and dropping back
again to his recumbent posture, resumed his pipe.

This little scene was witnessed by the party in the
tent, who were near enough to overhear all that was
said by the men, and even to converse with them if
they should desire to do so. A shade of anxiety crossed
Mr. Stanley’s countenance, and some time after, recur-
ring to the subject, he said,—

“I don’t feel quite easy about that fellow Gaspard.
He seems a sulky dog, and is such a Hercules that he
might give us a deal of trouble if he were high-spirited.”

A slight smile of contempt curled Frank’s lip as he
said, “ A strong arm without a bold heart is not of more
value than that of my Eda here in the hour of danger.
But I think better of Gaspard than you seem to do.
He’s a sulky enough dog, ’tis true; but he is a good hard



68 UNGAVA.

worker, and does not grumble; and I sometimes have
noticed traces of a better spirit than usually meets the
eye. As for his bulk, I think nothing of it; he wants
high spirit to make it available. Francois could thrash
him any day.”

“Perhaps so,” replied Stanley; “I hope they won’t
try their mettle on each other sooner than we expect.
Not that I care a whit for any of the men having a
round or two now and then and be done with it; but
this fellow seems to ‘nurse his wrath to keep it warm.’
On such an expedition as ours, it behoves us to have a
good understanding and a kindly feeling in the camp.
One black sheep in the flock may do much damage.”

“He's only piebald, not black,” said Frank laughing,
as he rose to quit the tent. “But I must leave you. I
see that Hda’s eyes are refusing to keep open any longer,
so good-night to you all, and a sound sleep.”

Frank’s concluding remarks in reference to him were
overheard by Gaspard, who had risen to look at the night,
and afterwards kneeled near the tent, in order to be at
some distance from his comrades while he said his
prayers ; for, strange though it may seem, many of the
rough and reckless voyageurs of that country, most of
whom are Roman Catholics, regularly retire each night
to kneel and pray beneath a tree before lying down on
their leafy couches, and deem the act quite consistent
with the swearing and quarrelling life that too many of
them lead. Such is human nature! As Gaspard rose
from his knees Frank’s words fell upon his ear, and
when he drew his blanket over his head that night,
there was a softer spot in his heart and a wrinkle less
on his brow.

When Frank stepped over to the place where his canoe
lay, the aspect of the camp was very different from



UNGAVA. 69

what it had been an hour before. The fire had burned
low, and was little more than a mass of glowing embers,
from which a fitful flame shot forth now and then, casting
a momentary glare on the forms of the men, who, having
finished their pipes, were all extended in a row, side by
side, under the large canoe. As they possessed only a
single green blanket each, they had to make the most
of their coverings, by rolling them tightly around their
bodies, and doubling the ends down under their feet
and over their heads; so that they resembled a row of
green bolsters, all their feet being presented towards the
fire, and all their heads resting on their folded capotes.
A good deal of loud and regular snoring proved that
toil and robust health seldom court the drowsy god
long in vain. Turning to his own canoe, Frank ob-
served that his Indian friends were extended out under
it, with a wide space between them, in which his own
bedding was neatly arranged. The grave sons of the
forest had lain down to rest long before their white
comrades, and they now lay as silent and motionless as
the canoe that covered their heads. Being a small
canoe, it did not afford protection to their legs and feet ;
but in fine weather this was of no consequence, and for
the morrow they cared not.

Before lying down Frank kneeled to commend him-
self and his comrades to the protection of God; then
stirring up the embers of the fire, he pulled out a small
Bible from his breast pocket and sat down on a log to
read. Frank was a careless, rollicking, kind-hearted
fellow, and how much there was of true religion in
these acts none but himself could tell. But the habit of
reading the Word, and of prayer, had been instilled into
him from infancy by a godly mother, and he carried it
with him into the wilderness.



70 UNGAVA.

When he drew his blanket over him and laid his
head on his capote the stars were still twinkling, and the
moon still sailed in a clear sky and gave silver edges to
the ice upon the sea. All was calm and solemn and
beautiful, and it seemed as if it could never be other-
wise in such a tranquil scene. But nature does not
always smile. Appearances are often deceitful.



CHAPTER VIII.

Bryan’s adventure with a polar bear, ete.

CE, ice, ice! everything seemed to have been con-
verted into ice when the day broke on the follow-
ing morning and awoke the sleepers in the camp. A
sharp frost during the night, accompanied by a fall of
snow, had, as if by magic, converted spring into winter.
Icy particles hung upon and covered, not only the young
leaves and buds of the bushes, but the branches also,
giving to them a white and extremely airy appearance.
Snow lay on the upper sides of the canoes, and weighed
heavily on the tent, causing its folds, once seemingly so
pure and white, to look dirty by contrast. Snow lay
on the protruding legs of the men, and encircled the
black spot where rested the ashes of last night's brilliant
fire. Ice grated on the pebbles of the shore ; ice floated
on the sea; icy hummocks and mounds rose above its
surface ; and icebergs raised their pinnacles on the far-
off horizon, and cut sharply into the bright blue sky.

It was cold, but it was not cheerless ; for when Eda put
out her head at the curtain doorway of the tent, and
opened her eyes upon the magic scene, the sun’s edge
rose above the horizon, as if to greet her, and sent a
flood of light far and near through the spacious universe,
converting the sea into glass, with islands of frosted
silver on its bosom. ‘It was a gorgeous scene, worthy of



72 UNGAVA.

its great Creator, who in his mysterious working scatters
gems of beauty oftentimes in places where there is scarce
a single human eye to behold their excellence.

Although the sea was covered with ice, there were,
nevertheless, several lanes of open water not far from
the shore; so that when Stanley called a council, com-
posed of Frank Morton, Dick Prince, and Massan, it was
agreed unanimously that they should attempt to proceed.
And it was well that they did so; for they had not
advanced many miles, winding their way cautiously
among the canals of open water, when they doubled a
promontory, beyond which there was little or no ice to
be seen, merely a few scattered fragments and fields,
that served to enhance the beauty of the scene by the
airy lightness of their appearance in contrast with the
bright blue of the sea and sky, but did not interrupt the
progress of the travellers. The three canoes always
maintained their relative positions during the journey as
much as possible. That is to say, Frank and the two
Indians went first in the small canoe, to lead the way,
while the two large canoes kept abreast of each other
when the open water was wide enough to permit of
their doing so. This, besides being more sociable,
enabled the two crews to join in the chorus of those
beautiful songs with which they frequently enlivened
the voyage.

During all this day, and for many days following,
they continued to enjoy fine weather and to make rapid
progress. Sometimes the ice was pretty thick, and once
or twice they narrowly escaped being nipped by col-
lapsing masses, which caused them to jump out, hastily
throw the baggage on the ice, and haul the canoes out
of the water. On these occasions the men proved them-
selves to be sterling fellows, nearly all of them being



UNGAVA. 73

cool, prompt, and collected in the moment of danger.
No doubt there were exceptions. La Roche, when any
sudden crisis of danger arose, usually threw himself
blindly over the side of the canoe on to the ice with the
lightness and agility of a harlequin. He recked not
whether he came down on his head or his feet, and more
than once nearly broke his neck in consequence of his
precipitancy. But La Roche was no coward, and the
instant the first burst of excitement was over he rushed
to render effective assistance. Bryan, too, although not
so mercurial as La Roche, was apt to lose self-command
for about five minutes when any sudden danger assailed
him, so that he frequently sat still, staring wildly straight
before him, while the others were actively unloading the
canoes; and once, when the danger was more critical
than usual, having sat till the canoe was empty, and
paid no attention to a prompt gruff order to jump ashore,
he had been seized by the strong arms of Gaspard and
tossed out of the canoe like a puppy dog. On these
occasions he invariably endeavoured to make up for his
fault by displaying, on recovery, the most outrageous
and daring amount of unnecessary recklessness,—utter-
ing, at the same time, an amazing number of strange
expressions, among which “Tare an’ ages!” “Och!
murder!” and several others less lucid in signification,
predominated. Chimo was always first ashore, and in-
stantly wheeled round to greet Eda, who was also always
second, thanks to the strong and prompt arm of Frangois,
who sat just in front, and by tacit agreement took her
under his special charge. As for Mrs. Stanley, the arm
that was rightfully her own, and had been her shield in
many a scene of danger, proved ever ready and able to
Succour the “first volunteer” to Ungava.

At times the sea was quite free of ice, and many miles



74, UNGAVA.

were soon added to the space which separated the little
band of adventurers from the rest of the human world.
Their encampments varied according to the nature of the
coast, being sometimes among pine-trees, or surrounded
by dwarf willows; at other times on the bare sand of
the sea-shore ; and occasionally at the extremity of long-
projecting capes and promontories, where they had to
pitch their tent and make their beds in the clefts of the
solid rock. But wherever they laid them down to rest—
on the rock, or on the sand, or within the shade of the
forest—it was always found, as Mrs. Stanley remarked of
the first night’s encampment, that they were extremely
comfortable and eminently snug.

They were successful, too, in procuring an ample
supply of fresh provisions. There were ducks and geese
of various kinds, and innumerable quantities of plover,
cormorants, gulls, and eider-ducks, the eggs of which
they found in thousands. Many of these birds were
good for food, and the eggs of most of them, especially
those of the eider-duck, were excellent. Reindeer were
also met with; and, among other trophies of his skill as
a hunter, Frank one day brought in a black bear, parts
of which were eaten with great gusto by the Esquimaux
and Indians, to the immense disgust of Bryan, who ex-
pressed his belief that the “haythens was barely fit to
live,” and were most justly locked out from society in
“thim dissolate polar raygeons.” There were many seals,
also, in the sea, which put up their ugly, grotesque heads
ever and anon, gazed at the canoes with their huge fishy
eyes, as if in surprise at the sight of such novel marine
monsters, and then sank slowly beneath the wave.
These animals were never molested, out of respect to the
feelings of the two Indians, who believed them to be
gods, and assured Stanley that the destruction of one



UNGAVA. 75

would infallibly bring down ill-luck and disaster on the
heads of the party. Stanley smiled inwardly at this,
but gave orders that no seals should be shot—an order
which all were very willing to obey, as they did not re-
quire the animals either for food or any other purpose.
Several white polar bears were seen, but they also were
spared, as they require a great deal of shot to kill them,
if not hit exactly behind the ear; and besides, neither
their bodies nor skins were of any use to the travellers.

Thus all went favourably for a time. But life is a
chequered story, and the sun of prosperity does not
always shine, as we shall see.

One fine morning, as they were paddling cheerfully
along in the neighbourhood of Cape Jones, it struck Mr.
Stanley that he might prove the correctness of his sextant
and other instruments before entering upon the country
which to most of the party was terra incognita. This
was the more necessary that he could not depend on the
guidance of Oostesimow and Ma-istequan, they having
travelled only once, long ago, through part of the country,
while the latter part of it was totally unknown to them.
It was one of those beautiful mornings that are peculiar
to arctic regions, when the air is inexpressibly still, and
all inanimate nature seems hushed in profound repose—
a repose which is rather rendered more effective than
otherwise by the plaintive cries of wild-fowl or the oc-
casional puffing of a whale. There was a peculiar brill-
iancy, too, in the atmosphere, caused by the presence of
so many fields and hummocks of white ice, looming
fantastically through a thin, dry, gauze-like haze, which,
while it did not dim the brightness of the solar rays,
lent an additional charm to every object by shrouding
it in a veil of mystery.

On passing the point the men ceased rowing, and pro-



76 UNGAVA.

ceeded to solace themselves with a five-minutes’ pipe—
an indulgence which voyageurs always claim as their due
after a long spell at the oars or paddles.

“Put ashore here, Massan,” said Stanley, turning to
the guide; “I shall take an observation, if possible, and
you can set the men to hunt for eggs. We shall want
them, as the larder is rather low just now.”

Massan muttered assent, and, shouting to the other
canoe to put ashore, ran alongside the rocks.

“You'd better hail the little canoe,” said Stanley, as
he landed. “TI shall want Mr. Morton to assist me.”

Massan stepped upon an elevated rock, and, shading
his eyes with his hands, looked earnestly ahead where he
observed the little canoe almost beyond vision, and just
going to double a point of land. Transferring his hands
to his mouth, he used them as a trumpet, and gave forth
a shout the like of which had never startled the echoes
of the place before.

“Tt’s no use, sir,” said Massan; “he’s past hearin’.
I’m afeerd that they’re off in the direction o’ the White
Bear Hills, in hopes o’ gittin’ a shot.”

“Try again, Massan,” urged Stanley ; “raise your pipe
a little higher. Perhaps it will reach them.”

Massan shook his head. “Try it, Bryan,’ he said,
turning to the Irishman, who was sitting on a rock
leisurely filling his short black pipe.

“Ts it to halloo ye want me?” replied Bryan, rising.
“Shure the great gun of Athlone itself could niver hold
a candle to ye, Massan, at yellin’; but Ill try, anyhow ;”
and putting his hands to his mouth he gave forth a roar
compared to which Massan’s was nothing. There was a
sort of crack in the tone of it, however, that was so
irresistibly ridiculous that the whole party burst incon-
tinently into a fit of laughter. Loud though it was, it



UNGAVA. 17

failed to reach the ears of those in the little canoe, which
in a few seconds doubled the point and disappeared.

“Ah, bad luck to it!” said Bryan, in disgust; “the
pipe’s damaged intirely. Small pace to ye, Bob Mahone;
for shure it was howlin’ and screechin’ at your wake like
a born scrandighowl that broke it.”

“Never mind, lad; what remains of it is not bad,”
said Stanley, laughing, as he proceeded to open the box
containing his scientific instruments.

Meanwhile his wife and Edith wandered along the
rocks picking up shells and pebbles; and the men
dispersed, some to smoke and chat, others to search for
egos. Bryan and La Roche, who were both aspiring
geniuses, and had formed a sort of rough attachment to
each other, asked permission to take a walk to the point
ahead, where they would wait for the canoes. Having
obtained it, they set off at a good round pace, that would
have been “throublesome to kape up,” as Bryan re-
marked, “with payse in yer shoes!”

“Why you come for to jine de company ?” inquired
La Roche, as they jogged along.

“Why? bekase I’d nothin’ else to do, as the ould
song says. Ye see, Losh” (Bryan had invented a con-
traction for his friend’s name, which he said was “ con-
vanient ”)—“ ye see, Losh, there may be more nor wan
raison for a gintleman lavin’ his native land in order to
thravel in furrin parts. It’s thrue I had nothin’ in the
univarse to do, for I could niver git work nohow, an’
whin I got it I could niver kape it. I niver could
onderstan’ why, but so it was. Nivertheless I managed
to live well enough in the ould cabin wid the murphies—”

“Vat is murphies ?” inquired La Roche.

“Bliss yer innocent face, don’t ye know it’s praties ?”

“Tis vat ?”



78 UNGAVA.

“ Praties, boy, or pit-taties, if I must be partic’lar.”

“Ah! goot, goot, I understan’—pettitoes. Oui, oui, ve
call him ponume de terre.”

“Hum! well, as I was sayin’, I got on pretty well
wid the pumdeterres an’ the pig, but the pig died wan
day—choked hisself on a murphy—that is, a pumble-
terre; an’ more betoken, it was the last murphy in the
house, a powerful big wan that my grandmother had
put by for supper. After this ivery thin’ wint to
smithereens. The rot came, and I thought I should
have to list for a sodger. Well, Bob Mahone died o’
dhrvink and starvation, an’ we had a beautiful wake ;
but there was a rig’lar shindy got up, an’ two or three
o’ the county p’lice misbehaved themselves, so I jist
floored them all, wan after the other, an’ bolted. Well,
I wint straight to Dublin, an’ there I met wid an ould
friend who was the skipper o’ a ship bound for New
York. Says ‘he, ‘Bryan, will ye go?’ Says I, ‘Av
coorse;’ an’ shure enough I wint, an’ got over the say
to Meriky. But I could niver settle down, so, wan way
or another, I came at last to Montreal and jined the
Company; an’ afther knockin’ about in the Columbia
and Mackenzie's River for some years, I was sint to ,
Moose, an’ here I am, Losh, yer sarvant to command.”

“Goot, ver’ goot, mais peculiaire,” said La Roche,
whose intimacy with this son of Erin had enabled him
to comprehend enough of his jargon to grasp the general
scope of his discourse.

“ Ay ye mane that lavin’ the ould country was goot,”
said Bryan, stooping to pick up a stone and skim it
along the smooth surface of the sea, “p’raps ye’re right ;
but there’s wan thing I niver could make my mind aisy
about,” and the blacksmith’s voice became deep and his
face grave as he recalled these bygone days.



UNGAVA. 79

“Vat were dat?” inquired La Roche.

“Why, ye see, Losh, I was so hard druve by the
plice that I was forced to lave wid-out sayin’ good day
to my ould mother, an’ they tould me it almost broke
her heart; but I’ve had wan or two screeds from the
priest wid her cross at them since, and she’s got over it,
an’ lookin’ out for my returnin’—bliss her sowl !—an’
I’ve sint her five pounds ivery year since I left: so ye
see, Losh, I’ve great hope o’ seein’ her yit, for although
she’s ould she’s oncommon tough, an’ having come o’ a
long-winded stock, I’ve great hopes of her.”

Poor Bryan! it never entered into his reckless brain
to think that, considering the life of almost constant
peril he led in the land of his pilgrimage, there was more
hope of the longevity of his old mother than of himself.
Like many of his countrymen, he was a man of strong,
passionate, warm feelings, and remarkably unselfish.

“Ts your contry resemblance to dat?” inquired La
Roche, pointing, as he spoke, towards the sea, which was
covered with fields and mountains of ice as far out as
the eye could discern.

“ Be the nose o’ my great-grandmother (an’ that was be
no manes a short wan) no!” replied Bryan, with a laugh.
“The say that surrounds ould Ireland is niver covered
with sich sugar-plums as these. But what have we here?”

As he spoke they reached the point at which they
were to await the coming up of the canoes, and the
object which called forth Bryan’s remark was the little
canoe, which lay empty on the beach just beyond the
point. From the manner in which it lay it was evident
that Frank and his Indians had placed it there ; but there
was no sign of their presence save one or two footprints
on the sand. While La Roche was examining these, his
companion walked towards a point of rock that jutted



80 UNGAVA.

out from the cliffs and intercepted the view beyond. On
turning round this, he became suddenly rooted to the
spot with horror. And little wonder, for just two yards
before him stood an enormous polar bear, whose career
was suddenly arrested by Bryan’s unexpected appearance.
Ji is difficult to say whether the man or the beast ex-
pressed most surprise at the rencounter. They both
stood stock still, and opened their eyes to the utmost
width. But the poor Irishman was evidently petrified
by the apparition. He turned deadly pale, and his
hands hung idly by his sides; while the bear, recovering
from his surprise, rose on his hind legs and walked up
to him—a sure sign that he was quite undaunted, and
had made up his mind to give battle. As for La Roche,
the instant he cast his eyes on the ferocious-looking
quadruped, he uttered a frightful yell, bounded towards
a neighbouring tree, and ceased not to ascend until its
topmost branches were bending beneath his weight.
Meanwhile the bear walked up to Bryan, but not
meeting with the anticipated grapple of an enemy, and
feeling somewhat uneasy under the cataleptic stare of
the poor man’s eyes—for he still stood petrified with
horror—it walked slowly round him, putting its cold
nose on his cheek, as if to tempt him to move. But the
five minutes of bewilderment that always preceded
Bryan’s recovery from a sudden fright had not yet
expired. He still remained perfectly motionless, so that
the bear, disdaining, apparently, to attack an unresisting
foe, dropped on his fore legs again. It is difficult to
say whether there is any truth in the well-known
opinion that the calm, steady gaze of a human eye can
quell any animal. Doubtless there are many stories,
more or less authentic, corroborative of the fact; but
whether this be true or not, we are ready to vouch for



UNGAVA. 8l

the truth of this fact—namely, that under the influence
of the blacksmith’s gaze, or his silence it may be, the
bear was absolutely discomfited. It retreated a step or
two, and walked slowly away, looking over its shoulder ,
now and then as it went, as if it half anticipated an on-
slaught in the rear.

We have already said that Bryan was no craven, and
that when his faculties were collected he usually dis-
played a good deal of reckless valour on occasions of
danger. Accordingly, no sooner did he see his shaggy
adversary in full retreat, than the truant blood re-
turned to his face with a degree of violence that caused
it to blaze with fiery red, and swelled the large veins
of his neck and forehead almost to bursting. Uttering
a truly Irish halloo, he bounded forward like a tiger,
tore the cap off his head and flung it violently before
him, drew the axe which always hung at his belt, and
in another moment stood face to face with the white
monster, which had instantly accepted the challenge,
and rose on its hind legs to receive him. Raising the
axe with both hands, the man aimed a blow at the bear’s
head; but with a rapid movement of its paw it turned
the weapon aside and dashed it into the air. Another
such blow, and the reckless blacksmith’s career would
have been brought to an abrupt conclusion, when the
crack of a rifle was heard. Its echo reverberated along
the cliffs and floated over the calm water as the polar
bear fell dead at Bryan’s feet.

“Hurrah!” shouted Frank Morton, as he sprang
from the bushes, knife in hand, ready to finish the
work which his rifle had so well begun. But it
needed not. Frank had hit the exact spot behind
the ear which renders a second ball unnecessary—the
bear was already quite dead.

6



CHAPTER IX.

A storm brewing—Ié bursts, and produces consequences—The party take to the
water per force—All saved.

“A H, Bryan! ‘a friend in need is a friend indeed, ”

said Frank, as he sat on a rock watching the
blacksmith and his two Indians while they performed
the operation of skinning the bear, whose timely de-
struction has been related in the last chapter. “I must
say I never saw a man stand his ground so well, with a
brute like that stealing kisses from his cheek. Were
they sweet, Bryan? Did they remind you of the fair
maid of Derry, hey ?”

“Ah! thrue for ye,” replied the blacksmith, as he
stepped to a rock for the purpose of whetting his knife ;
“yer honor was just in time to save me a power 0
throuble. Bad skran to the baste! it would have taken
three or four rounds at laste to have finished him nately
off, for there’s no end o’ fat on his ribs that would have
kep’ the knife from goin’ far in.”

Frank laughed at this free-and-easy way of looking
at it. “So you think you would have killed him, do
you, if I had not saved you the trouble ?”

“Av coorse I do. Shure a man is better than a
baste any day ; and besides, had I not a frind at my
back ridy to help me?” Bryan cast a comical leer at
La Roche as he said this, and the poor Frenchman
blushed, for he felt that his conduct in the affair had

a



UNGAVA. 83

not been very praiseworthy. It is due to La Roche to
say, however, that no sooner had he found himself at
the top of the tree, and had a moment to reflect, than
he slid rapidly to the bottom again, and ran to the
assistance of his friend, not, however, in time to render
such assistance available, as he came up just at the
moment the bear fell.

In half-an-hour afterwards the two large canoes came
up, and Bryan and his little friend had to undergo a
rapid fire of witticism from their surprised and highly-
amused comrades. Even Moses was stirred up to say
that “Bryan, him do pratty well: he most good ’nuff to
make an Eskimo !”

Having embarked the skin of the bear, the canoes
once more resumed their usual order and continued on
their way. The carcass of the bear being useless for
food, was left for the wolves; and the claws, which
were nearly as large as a man’s finger, were given by
Frank to the blacksmith, that he might make them
into a necklace, as the Indians do, and keep it in re-
membrance of his rencounter.

But the weather was now beginning to change. Dick
Prince, whose black eye was ever roving about observ-
antly, told Massan that a storm was brewing, and that
the sooner he put ashore in a convenient spot the better.
But Stanley was anxious to get on, having a long
journey before him, at the termination of which there
would be little enough time to erect a sufficient protec-
tion against the winter of the north; so he continued to
advance along shore until they came to a point beyond
which there was a very deep bay that would take them
many hours to coast. By making a traverse, however,
in a direct line to the next point, they might cross it in
a much shorter time.



84 UNGAVA.

“ How say you, Prince? shall we cross?” asked Stan-
ley, as they rested on their paddles and cast furtive
glances up at the dark clouds and across the still quiet
bay.

Prince shook his head. “I fear we won't have time
to cross. The clouds are driving too fast and growin’
black.”

“Well, then, we had better encamp,” said Stanley.
—‘Ts there a proper place, Massan, hereabouts ?”

“No, sir,” replied the guide. “The stones on the
beach are the only pillows within six mile o’ us.”

“Ho! then, forward, boys, make a bold push for it,”
cried Stanley; “if it does begin to blow before we're
over, we can run back again at all events.”

In another moment the canoes swept out to sea, and
made for the point far ahead like race-horses. Although
the clouds continued to gather, the wind did not rise,
and it seemed as though they would get over easily,
when a sudden gust came off the shore—a direction
whence, from the appearance of the clouds, it had not
been expected. Rufiling the surface of the water for a
few seconds, it passed away.

“Give way, boys, give way” cried Massan, using his
large steering paddle with a degree of energy that sent
the canoe plunging forward. “We can’t go back, an’ if
the storm bursts off the shore—”

A loud peal of thunder drowned the remainder of the
sentence, and in a few seconds the wind that had been
dreaded came whistling violently off the shore and
covered the sea with foam. The waves soon began to
rise, and ere long the frail barks, which were ill cal-
culated to weather a storm, were careering over them
and shipping water at every plunge.

It now became a matter of life and death with them



UNGAVA. 85

that they should gain the point, for, deeply loaded as
they were, it was impossible that they could float long
in such a sea. It is true that a wind off the shore does
not usually raise what sailors would consider much of a
sea; but it must be remembered that, although it was
off shore, the bay which they were crossing extended
far inland, so that the gale had a wide sweep of water
to act upon before it reached them. Besides this, as has
already been explained, canoes are not like boats. Their
timbers are weak, the bark of which they are made is
thin, the gum which makes their seams tight is easily
knocked off in cold water, and, in short, they cannot face
a sea on which a boat might ride like a sea-gull. .

For a considerable time the men strained every nerve
to gain the wished-for point of land, but with so little
success that it became evident they would never reach
it. The men began to show signs of flagging, and cast
uneasy glances towards Stanley, as if they had lost all
hope of accomplishing their object, and waited for him
to suggest what they should do. Poor Mrs. Stanley sat
holding on to the gunwale with one hand and clasping
Edith round the waist with the other, as she gazed wist-
fully towards the cape ahead, which was now almost lost
to. view under the shadow of a dark cloud that rolled
towards them like a black pall laden with destruction.

“God help us!” murmured Stanley, in an undertone,
as he scanned the seaward horizon, which was covered
with leaden clouds and streaks of lurid light, beneath
which the foaming sea leaped furiously.

“Call upon Me in the time of trouble, and I will de-
liver thee,” said Mrs. Stanley, who overheard the ex-
clamation.

Stanley either heard her not or his mind was too
deeply concentrated on the critical nature of their posi-



86 UNGAVA.

tion to make any reply. As she buried her face in her
hands, Edith threw her trembling arms round her
mother and hid her face in her bosom. Even Chimo
seemed to understand their danger, for he crept closer
to the side of his young mistress and whined in a low
tone, as if in sympathy. The waves had now increased
to such a degree that it required two of the men to bail
incessantly in order to prevent their being swamped,
and as Stanley cast a hurried glance at the other canoes,
which were not far off, he observed that it was as much
as they could do to keep afloat. “Could we not run
back, Massan ?” asked Stanley, in despair.

“Unposs’ble, sir,’ replied the guide, whose voice was
almost drowned by the whistling of the wind. “We're
more nor half-way over, an’ it would only blow us farther
out to sea if we was to try.”

While the guide spoke, Stanley was gazing earnestly
in the direction of the horizon.

“Round with you, Massan,” he exclaimed suddenly ;
“put the canoe about and paddle straight out to sea.—
Hallo!” he shouted to the other canoes, “follow us out
to sea—straight out.”

The men looked aghast at this extraordinary order.
“Look alive, lads,” continued their leader; “I see an
island away there to leeward. Perhaps it’s only a rock,
but any way it’s our only chance.”

The canoes’ heads were turned round, and in another
moment they were driving swiftly before the wind in
the direction of the open sea.

“Right, right,” murmured Dick Prince, as they made
towards this new source of hope; “mayhap it’s only a
bit o’ ice, but even that’s better than nothin’.”

“If ‘tis only ice,” cried La Roche, “ve have ver’
pauvre chance at all.”



UNGAVA. 87

“Shure an’ if we are to go ashore at all, at all,” said
Bryan, whose spirits had suddenly risen with this gleam
of hope from fifty degrees below to fifty above zero—
“if we are to go ashore at all, at all, it’s better to land
on the ice than on the wather.”

With such a breeze urging them on, the three canoes
soon approached what appeared to be a low sand-bank,
on which the sea was dashing~in white foam. But
from the tossing of the waves between them and the
beach, it was difficult to form a conjecture as to its size.
Indeed, at times they could scarcely see it at all, owing
to the darkness of the day and the heavy rain which
began to fall just as they approached; and more than
once Stanley’s heart sank when he lost sight of the
bank, and he began to think that he had made a mis-
take, and that they were actually flying out to the deep
sea, in which case all hope would be gone for ever.
But God’s mercy was extended to them in this hour of
peril. The island appeared to grow larger as they
neared it,and at last they were within a stone’s-throw of
the shore. But a new danger assailed them here. The
largest canoe, which neared the island first, had begun
to leak, and took in water so fast that the utmost
efforts of those who bailed could not keep it under, and
from the quantity that was now shipped they made very
little way. To add to the horror of the scene, the sky
became very dark, and another crash of thunder pealed
forth accompanied by a blinding flash of lightning.

“Paddle, boys, paddle for your lives!” cried Stanley,
throwing off his coat, and seizing a tin dish, with which
he began to throw out the water.

The canoe rose on a huge wave which broke all round
it. This nearly filled it with water, and carried it to-
wards the shore with such velocity that it seemed as if



88 UNGAVA.

they should be dashed in pieces; but they fell back into
the trough of the sea, and lay motionless like a heavy
log, and in a sinking condition.

“ Now, lads, look out for the next wave, and give way
with a will,” cried Massan. The worthy steersman acted
rather too energetically on his own advice, for he dipped
his paddle with such force that it snapped in two.

“Be ready to jump out,” cried Dick Prince, standing
up in the bow in order to give more power to his
strokes.

As he spoke, Stanley turned to his wife and said,
“ Jessie, hold on by my collar; I'll take Eda in my
arms.” At that instant the canoe gave a lurch, and
before Stanley could grasp his child, they were all
struggling in the sea! At this awful moment, instead
of endeavouring to do as her husband directed, Mrs.
Stanley instinctively threw her arms around Edith, and
while the waves were boiling over her, she clasped the
child tightly to her bosom with her left arm, while with
her right she endeavoured to raise herself to the surface.
Twice she succeeded, and twice she sank, when a box of
merchandise providentially struck her arm. Seizing this,
she raised herself above the water, and poor Edith
gasped convulsively once or twice for air. Then the box
was wrenched from her grasp by a wave, and with a
wild shriek she sank again. Just then a strong arm
was thrown around her, her feet touched the ground,
and in a few seconds she was dragged violently from
the roaring waves and fell exhausted on the beach.

“Thanks be to God we are saved!” murmured Mrs.
Stanley, as her husband assisted her to rise and led her
beyond the reach of the waves, while Edith still clung
with a deadly grasp to her mother’s neck.

“ Ay, Jessie, thank God indeed! But for his mercy



UNGAVA. _ 89

we should have all been lost. I was floundering about
beside the canoe when your scream showed me where
you were, and enabled me to save you. But rest here,
in the lee of this bale. I cannot stay by you. Frank
is in danger still.”

Without waiting for a reply, he sprang from her side
and hurried down to the beach. Here everything was
in the utmost confusion. The two large canoes had been
saved and dragged out of the reach of the waves, and
the men were struggling in the boiling surf to rescue
the baggage and provisions, on which latter their very
lives depended. As Stanley reached the scene of action,
he observed several of the men watching the small canoe
which contained Frank and his two Indians. It had
been left some distance behind by the others, and was
now approaching with arrow speed on the summit of a
large wave. Suddenly the top of the billow curled over,
and in another moment the canoe was turned bottom
up! Like a cork it danced on the wave’s white crest,
then falling beneath the thundering mass of water, it
was crushed to pieces and cast empty upon the beach.
But Frank and his men swam like otters, and the party
on shore watched them with anxious looks as they
breasted manfully over the billows. At last a towering
wave came rolling majestically forward. It caught the
three swimmers in its rough embrace, and carrying them
along on its crest, launched them on the beach, where it
left them struggling with the retreating water. Those
who have bathed in rough weather on an exposed coast
know well how difficult it is to regain a firm footing on
loose sand while a heavy wave is sweeping backward
into its parent ocean. Frank and the two Indians ex-
perienced this; and they might have struggled there till
their strength had been exhausted, were it not for



90 UNGAVA.

Stanley, Prince, and Massan, who rushed simultaneously
into the water and rescued them.

As the whole party had now, by the goodness of God,
reached the land in safety, they turned their undivided
energies towards the bales and boxes which were rolling
about in the surf. Many of these had been already
collected, and were carried to the spot where Mrs. Stan-
ley and Edith lay under the shelter of a bale. As the
things were successively brought up they were piled
around the mother and child, who soon found themselves
pretty well sheltered from the wind, though not from the
rain, which still fell in torrents. Soon after Frank
came to them, and said that all the things were saved,
and that it was time to think of getting up some sort
of shelter for the night. This was very much needed,
for poor Edith was Besinuine to shiver from the wet and
cold.

“ Now then, Francois, Massan,” shouted Frank, “lend
a hand here to build a house for Eda. We'll be all as
snug as need be in a few minutes.”

Despite the cold and her recent terror, the poor child
could not help smiling at the idea of building a house
in a few minutes, and it was with no little curiosity that
she watched the operations of the men. Meanwhile Mr.
Stanley brought some wine in a pannikin, and made
Hdith and his wife drink a little. This revived them
greatly, and as the rain had now almost ceased they rose
and endeavoured to wring the water out of their gar-
ments. In less than half-an-hour the men piled the
bales and boxes in front of the largest canoe, which was
turned bottom up, and secured firmly in that position by
an embankment of sand. Over the top of all three oil-
cloths were spread and lashed down, thus forming. a
complete shelter, large enough to contain the whole



UNGAVA. 91

party. At one end of this curious house Mr. Stanley
made a separate apartment for his wife and child, by
placing two large bales and a box as a partition; and
within this little space Edith soon became very busy in
arranging things, and “putting the house to rights,” as
she said, as long as the daylight lasted, for after it went
away they had neither candles nor fire, as the former
had been soaked and broken, and as for the latter no
wood could be found on the island. The men’s clothes
were, of course, quite wet, so they cut open a bale of
blankets, which had not been so much soaked as the
other goods, having been among the first things that
were washed ashore.

At the time they were wrecked the dashing spray
and the heavy rain, together with the darkness of the
day, had prevented the shipwrecked voyageurs from
ascertaining the nature of the island on which they had
been cast; and as the night closed in while they were
yet engaged in the erection of their temporary shelter,
they had to lie down to rest in ignorance on this point.
After such a day of unusual fatigue and excitement, they
all felt more inclined for rest than food ; so, instead of
taking supper, they all lay down huddled together under
the canoe, and slept soundly, while the angry winds
whistled round them, and the great sea roared and
lashed itself into foam on the beach, as if disappointed
that the little band of adventurers had escaped and were
now beyond the reach of its impotent fury.



CHAPTER X.

The sand-bank—Dismal prospects—Consultations—Internal arrangements
exposed and detailed.

F all the changes that constantly vary the face of
nature, the calm that succeeds a storm is one of
the most beautiful, and the most agreeable, perhaps, to
the feelings of man. Few conditions of nature convey
to the mind more thoroughly the idea of complete repose,
—of deep rest after mortal strife, of sleep after ex-
hausting toil; and those who have passed through the
violence of the storm and done battle with its dangers
are, by the physical rest which they enjoy after it is
over, the more fitted to appreciate and sympathize with
the repose which reigns around them.

When the sun rose, on the morning after the storm,
it shone upon a scene so calm and beautiful, so utterly
unconnected with anything like the sin of a fallen
world, and so typical, in its deep tranquillity, of the
mind of Him who created it, that it seemed almost
possible for a moment to fancy that the promised land
was gained at last, and that all the dark clouds, the
storms and dangers, the weary journeyings and the
troubles of the wilderness, were past and gone for ever.
So glorious was the scene that when Edith, rising from
her rude couch and stepping over the prostrate forms of
her still slumbering companions, issued from the shelter



UNGAVA. 93

of the canoe and cast her eyes abroad upon the glassy
sea, she could not restrain her feelings, and uttered a
thrilling shout of joy that floated over the waters and
reverberated among the glittering crags of the surround-
ing icebergs.

The island on which the travellers had been cast was
a mere knoll of sand, not more than a few hundred
yards in circumference, that scarcely raised its rounded
summit above the level of the water, and at full tide
was reduced to a mere speck, utterly destitute of vege-
tation. The sea around it was now smooth and clear as
glass, though undulated by a long, regular swell, which
rolled, at slow, solemn intervals, in majestic waves to-
wards the sand-bank, where they hovered for a moment
in curved walls of dark-green water, then, lipping over
at their crests, fell in a roar of foam that hissed a deep
sigh on the pebbles of the beach, and left the silence
greater than before. Masses of ice floated here and
there on the surface of the deep, the edges and fantastic
points of which were tipped with light. Not far from
the northern extremity of the sand-bank a large iceberg
had grounded, from the sides of which several pinnacles
had been hurled by the shock and now lay stranded on
the beach.

The shout with which Edith had welcomed the morn-
ing roused the whole party, and in a few minutes they
were all assembled outside of their little hut, some
admiring the scene, others—of a less enthusiastic and
more practical turn—examining the circumstances of
their position, and considering the best course that
should be pursued in their difficulty.

Mr. Stanley, Dick Prince, and Massan, as was their
wont, held a council upon the existing state of things,
and after much gazing round at the sea and up at the



94, UNGAVA.

sky, and considerable grunting of his deep voice and
rubbing of his capacious chin, on the part of the latter,
he turned to Dick Prince, as if appealing to his superior
sagacity, and said—

“Well, ye see, my ’pinion’s jist this: yonder’s the
mainland there” (pointing to the eastward, where, about
ten miles distant, the rocks and trees were seen distorted
and faintly looming through a tremulous haze), “an’
there’s our canoes there” (jerking his thumb over his
shoulder in the direction of the large canoes, whose torn
sides and damaged ribs, as they lay exposed on the sand,
bore sad testimony to the violence of the previous night’s
storm), “and there’s the little canoe yonder” (glancing
toward the craft in question, which lay on the beach a
hopelessly-destroyed mass of splinters and shreds of bark
that projected and bristled in all directions, as if in un-
controllable amazement at the suddenness and entirety
of its own destruction). “Now, that bein’ the case, an’
the baggage all wet, an’ the day parfitly beautiful, an’
the sun about hot enough to bile the sea, we can’t do
better nor stay where we are an’ mend the canoes, dry
the goods, an’ start fair to-morrow mornin’.”

Stanley looked at Prince, as if expecting a remark
from him; but the grave countenance of the silent
bowman indicated that he was absorbed in contemplation.

“Tis quite evident, Massan,” said Stanley, “that we
must repair the canoes; but a few hours could do that,
and I don’t like the idea of staying another night on a
strip of sand like this, which, I verily believe, another
stiff nor’-wester would blow away altogether.—But what
say you, Prince? Do you advise our remaining ?”

“Yes,” replied Dick, “I do. Ye see there’s no fear of
another storm soon. "Tis a good chance for dryin’ the
goods, so I vote for stoppin’.”



UNGAVA. 95

“ Well, then, we shall stay,” replied Stanley. “To say
truth, I agreed with you at first, Massan, but it’s always
advisable to look at both sides of a question—”

“Yes, and ‘in the multitude of counsellors there is
wisdom, ” said Frank Morton, coming up at the moment,
and tapping his friend on the shoulder. “If you will
include me in your confabulation, you shall have the
benefit of deep experience and far-sighted sagacity.”

“Come, then, Master Frank,” replied Stanley, “what
does your sagacity advise on the point of our staying on
this sand-bank ? Shall we spend another night on it in
order to dry the goods, or shall we up and away to terra
firma as soon as the canoes are seaworthy ?”

“Stay, of course,” said Frank. “As to the sand-bank,
‘tis firm enough, to my mind, after resisting the shock
of the wave that dashed me ashore last night. Then,
we have everything we need—shelter and food, and
even fuel.” As Frank mentioned the last word, he
glanced round with a rueful countenance and pointed to
the bark and timbers of his broken canoe.

“True, Frank, we have wherewith to boil the kettle,
and as the water-cask was full when we started yester- -
day morning, there will be enough at least for one or
two days.”

“By the way, that reminds me that Eda and your
wife are particularly desirous of having breakfast,” said
Frank. “In fact they sent me specially to lay their
melancholy case before you; and I have great fears that
Eda will lay violent hands on the raw pork if her morn-
ing meal is delayed much longer. As for Chimo, he is
rushing about the island in a state of ravenous despair ;
so pray let us be going.”

“Be it so, Frank,” said Stanley, taking his friend’s
arm, and sauntering towards the canoe, while Massan



Full Text


Cre
AWA
WY

a
we
\

ea

.












RESCUE OF FRANK MORTON
v EES 2










UD NN G@ ea a

A Tale of Esquimau Land

By

Robert Michael Ballantyne

Author of “The Dog Crusoe and his Master,” “The Young Fur-Traders,”
“The Gorilla-Hunters,’ ‘* The World of Ice,”
“ The Coral Island,”

&e.

NEW EDITION

7% NELSON AND SONS

LONDON: EDINBURGH
NEIV YORK

1895

PuREE el ORE.

et npg ne

Tun following story is intended to illustrate one of the
many phases of the fur-trader’s life in those wild regions
of North America which surround Hudson's Bay.

Most of its major incidents are facts—fiction being
employed chiefly for the purpose of weaving these facts
into a readable form.

If this volume should chance to fall into the hands
of any of those who acted a part in the first settlement
of Ungava, we trust that they will forgive the liberty
that has been taken with their persons and adventures,
remembering that transpositions, modifications, and
transformations are necessary in constructing a tale out
of the “raw material.”

We take this opportunity of expressing to the Leader
of the adventurous band our grateful acknowledgments
for his kindness in placing at our disposal the ground-

work on which this story has been reared.

CON TB IN TIES,

CHAPTER I.
The forest, and the leaders of the forlorn-hope—A good shot—A consultation—-
An ice-floe, and a narrow escape tr a SIAUL WHY... sieececce eee eeeeen cece eo

CHAPTER II.
Head-quarters—The men—Disputation and uncertainty—New uses for the
skins of dead boys /—Mlutinous resolves ........ccevcccnenseccnneeeceeeeeeeseseeee ses LD)
CHAPTER III.

Shows how Stanley deigned to consult with womankind—The opinions of a child
developed—Persuasion fails—Example triumphs—The first volunteers to

CHAPTER IV.
Explanatory, but not dry /—Murderous designs thwarted by vigorous treat-
ment—The cattle pay for it /—Preparations for a long, long voyage........ 3
CHAPTER V.
Ice looks wunpropitious—The start—An important member of the party nearly
AOTRROUTD OLR eciicoroneaanoxseedoretine nob seaéedorododje0e anonb aoa Gonnscaqasacéoodeadadnad 40
CHAPTER VI.
Character partially developed—Ducks for supper—A threatened “‘nip”—
EBUNULEOROULOTULLERLCC heer ee ee eee OO
CHAPTER VII.
Shows how the party made themselves at home in the bush—Talk round the
camp fire—A flash of temper—Lurntng U1 ee.cccecceccccccrcceeerseceeeesesseee DT
CHAPTER VIII.

Bryan’s adventure with a polar beat, Cb0.........0.ccccc cece eeeee cer sennteeseeeteentes 71
Vi CONTENTS.

CHAPTER IX.
A storm brewing—Tt bursts, and produces consequences—The party take to the
water per force—All saved...........0.ccceeeeeees iow uncesussutcuescus cases comes 82
CHAPTER X.
The sand-bank—Dismal prospects—Consuliations—Internal arrangements ex-
posed and detailed-........ PR RCH eee cece Aenean en eater Eee Cees 92
CEAPTER XI.

Staré afresh—Superstitious notions—The whirlpool—The interior—Fishing in
the old way on new ground, and what came of it—A cold bath—The rescue
—Saved—Deeper and deeper into the wilderness ............ccscceeeeee certs 100



CHAPTER XII.

A new sceene—The Esquimau—Decr slaying—Enemies in the bush

CHAPTER XIII.
Savage love—A uife purchased—The attack—The flight—The escape—The
DREDGE CREE aecneneoocepntieaee20000o89edotiondb dacaeadpgbobains4dads5ooga0H08e006000090000 127

CHAPTER XIV.
The purguit—Seal spearing—The giant’s Mespett’ ee... .ccceceeceeccescecseeeeeeeees 186

CHAPTER XV.
End. of the voyage—Plans and prospects—Eaploring parties sent out.......... 143

CHAPTER XVI.
Resources of the country begin to devclop—Bryan distinguishes himself—Fish-
AIL COLTON AULT Y err nore mee eee ee eee ceee 154
CHAPTER XVII.

Successes and encouragement—Bryan lost and found .......ceieeececceseesseeeeeees 168

CHAPTER XVIII.

Outpost-building—Fort Chimo—An unexpected arrival, which causes much

CHAPTER XIX.
Bustle and business—A great feast, in which Bryan and La Roche are prime
movers—New ideas in the art of COOKING. ......ccccccececccscenseeesceeeueenee ieee 188
CHAPTER XX.

Winter approaches—Esquimaux arrive—Effect of a word—A sucking baby—
PUOSTECLB. OF ETA Gis, wr nctc cone na eee s eau ae Rete ee Ee Le eee 200
CONTENTS. vil

CHAPTER XXI.
Silent conversation—Raw food—Female tails—A terrible battle terminated by
the interposition Of G GUant.....ccccecciccceere ee tes ene etttee teen este eaten ies 210
CHAPTER XXII.
Maximus—Deer spearing—A surprisingly bad shot-—Character of the na-
ELLCS eee eee renin eee tose tinal lia tetas esa chan 218
CHAPTER XXIII.
More arrivals—Honesty—Indians come upon the scene—The tribes reconciled—
Disease and death change the aspect of things—Philosophic discourse... 228.
CHAPTER XXIV.
Effect of snow on the feelings, not to mention the landscape—A wonderful dome

CHAPTER XXV.
Buried alive—But not killed—The giant in the snow-stor Mi. .....icseeereeseerers 250:

CHAPTER XXVI.
An excursion—Igloe building, and fishing under the ice—A snow-table and a
good feast—Edith spends the night under a snow-roof for the first but not
the UASE UINC.....cccescceneccesessccnssctanssceencctsenscceesesnseseeceesesan scenes ecenen ens 263
CHAPTER XXVII.
Frank Morton gets into difficulties... cies eet ccs . 273.

CHAPTER XXVIII.
Edith becomes a heroine indeed... ci... cece cece eee etn eee 286

CHAPTER XXIX.

A dark cloud of sorrow envelops Fort Chimo.......-..ccccccccestier escent tees 295

CHAPTER XXX.
An old friend amid new friends ‘and novelties—A desperate battle, and a
GMOVUOUS VICLOTY. oe seeeeeseeceenee cent ee ene tent e eee Ee EEE eee ee eens 302
CHAPTER XXXI.
Another desperate battle, and a decided victory—The Esquimaux suffer a
SEVEN LOGS... cccececcccccnveveeseeccenser sescecneeseseeseenarecseceers er ceesemenatereeceerees 320:
CHAPTER XXXII.

Edith waxes melancholy, but her sadness is suddenly turned into joy ; and the
Esquimaua receive a surprise, and find a friend, and LOSE ONE. ... 60s cee eee 330
Vill 5 CONTENTS.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

The clouds are broken, the sun bursts through and once more irradiates Fort
Chamo—Hopes and fears for Maxtmus.......cccccccccccceseeeccsscceceesececeses 341

' CHAPTER XXXIV.

Rough and tumble—A polar bear made useful—Fishing, and floundering, and
narrow escupes—An unexpected discovery, productive of mingled perplexity
COLO OU Rewees sa eae a tec ct anes ae Ue teens teen OO er MLE ep 346

CHAPTER XXXV.
A stirring period in the life of Maxtmus.....cccccccceccccecsssssscscssscsesseeecesece. 362

CHAPTER XXXVI.

Happy meetings and joyous feastings—Love, marriage, desertion, desolation, and
COMCLUSLON .. 0... .0.cecenseceeeceeeeeces ass tecte erecta ctsenitet yarn neet a tear 378
UNGAVA.



CHAPTER I.

The forest, and the icaders of the forlorn-hope—A good shot—A consultation—
An ice-floc, and @ narrow escape in a small way.

= ]T ALLO! where are you?” shouted a voice that

rang through the glades of the forest like the
blast of a silver trumpet, testifying to lungs of leather
and a throat of brass.

The ringing tones died away, and nought was heard
save the rustling of the leafy canopy overhead, as the
young man, whose shout had thus rudely disturbed the
surrounding echoes, leaned on the muzzle of a long rifle,
and stood motionless as a statue, his right foot resting
on the trunk of a fallen tree, and his head bent slightly
to one side, as if listening for a reply. But no reply
came. A squirrel ran down the trunk of a neighbouring
pine, and paused, with tail and ears erect, and its little
black eyes glittering as if with surprise at the temerity
of him who so recklessly dared to intrude upon and
desecrate with his powerful voice the deep solitudes of
the wilderness. They stood so long thus that it seemed
as though the little animal and the man had been
petrified by the unwonted sound. If so, the spell was
quickly broken. The loud report of a fowling-piece
10 UNGAVA.

was heard at a short distance. The squirrel incontinently
disappeared from the spot on which it stood, and almost
instantaneously reappeared on the topmost branch of
a high tree; while the young man gave a smile of
satisfaction, threw the rifle over his shoulder, and, turning
round, strode rapidly away in the direction whence the
shot proceeded.

A few minutes’ walk brought him to the banks of a
little brook, by the side of which, on the projecting root
of a tree, sat a man, with a dead goose at his feet and
a fowling-piece by his side. He was dressed in the
garb of a hunter; and, from the number of gray hairs
that shone like threads of silver among the black curls
on his temples, he was evidently past the meridian of
life,—although, from the upright bearing of his tall
muscular frame, and the quick glance of his fearless
black eye, it was equally evident that the vigour of his
youth was not yet abated.

“Why, Stanley,” exclaimed the young man as he
approached, “ I’ve been shouting till my throat is cracked,
for at least half-an-hour. I verily began to think that
you had forsaken me altogether.”

“In which case, Frank,” replied the other, “I should
have treated you as you deserve, for your empty game-
bag proves you an unworthy comrade in the chase.”

“So, so, friend, do not boast,” replied the youth with
asmile; “if I mistake not, that goose was winging its
way to the far north not ten minutes agone. Had I
come up half-an-hour sooner, I suspect we should have
met on equal terms; but the fact is, that I have not
seen hair or feather, save a tree-squirrel, since I left you
in the morning.”

“Well, to say truth, I was equally unfortunate until ©
I met this luckless goose, and fired the shot that brought
UNGAVA. cm

him down and brought you up. But I’ve had enough
o’ this now, and shall back to the fort again. What
say you,—will you go in my canoe or walk ?”

The young man was silent for a few seconds ; then,
without replying to his companion’s question, he said,—

« By-the-by, is it not to-night that you mean to make
another attempt to induce the men to volunteer for the
expedition ?”

“Tt is,” replied Stanley, with a slight frown.

“And what if they still persist in refusing to go?”

“Tl try once more to shame them out of their
cowardice. But if they won’t agree, I'll compel them to
go by means of more powerful arguments than words.”

“Tis not cowardice; you do the men injustice,” said
Frank, shaking his head. ;

« Well, well, I believe I do, lad; you're right,” replied
Stanley, while a smile smoothed out the firm lines that
had gathered round his lips for a few seconds. “No
doubt they care as little for the anticipated dangers of
the expedition as any men living, and they hesitate to
go simply because they know that the life before them
will be a lonely one at such an out-o-the-way place as
Ungava. But we can’t help that, Frank ; the interests
of the Company must be attended to, and so go they
must, willing or not willing, But I’m annoyed at this
unexpected difficulty, for there's a mighty difference
between men who volunteer to go and men who go
merely because they must and can’t help it.”

The young man slowly rubbed the stock of his rifle
with the sleeve of his coat, and looked as if he understood
and sympathized with his friend’s chagrin.

“Jf Prince were only here just now,” said he, looking
up, “there would be no difficulty in the matter. These

fellows only want a bold, hearty comrade to step forward
12 UNGAVA.

and show them the way, and they will follow to the
North Pole if need be. They look upon our willingness
to go as a mere matter of course, though I don’t see
why we should be expected to like banishment more
than themselves. But if Prince were—”

“ Well, well, Prince is not here, so we must do the
best we can without him,” said Stanley.

As he spoke, the trumpet note of a goose was heard
in the distance.

“ There he goes !—down with you!” exclaimed Frank,
darting suddenly behind the stump of the tree, while
his companion crouched beside him, and both began to
shout at the top of their voices in imitation of the goose.
The bird was foolish enough to accept the invitation
immediately, although, had it been other than a goose,
it would have easily recognized the sound as a wretched
counterfeit of the goose language. It flew directly
towards them, as geese always do in spring when thus
enticed, but passed at such a distance that the elder
sportsman was induced to lower his piece.

“Ah! he’s too far off. You'd better give him a shot
with the rifle, Frank ; but you’re sure to miss.”

“To hit, you mean,” cried his companion, flushing
with momentary indignation at this disparaging remark.
At the same moment he took a rapid aim and fired.
For a few yards the goose continued its forward flight
as if unhurt; then it wavered once or twice, and fell
heavily to the ground.

“Bravo, boy!” cried Stanley. “There, don’t look
nettled ; I only jested with you, knowing your weakness
on the score of rifle-shooting. Now, pick up your bird.
and throw it into the canoe, for I must away.”

Frank finished reloading his piece as his friend spoke.
and went to pick up the goose; while the cther walked
UNGAVA. 13

down to the edge of the rivulet, and disengaged a light
birch-bark canoe from the long grass and sedges that
almost hid it from view.

“Make haste, Frank!” he shouted; “there’s the ice
coming up with the flood-tide, and bearing down on the
creek here.”

At a short distance from the spot where the sportsmen
stood, the streamlet already alluded to mingled its waters
with a broad river, which, a few miles farther down,
flows into James’s Bay. As every one knows, this bay
lies to the south of Hudson’s Bay, in North America.
Here the river is about two miles wide; and the shores
on either side being low, it has all the appearance of an
extensive lake. In spring, after the disruption of the
ice, its waters are loaded with large floes and fields of
ice; and later in the season, after it has become quite
free from this wintry encumbrance, numerous detached
masses come up with every flood-tide. It was the
approach of one of these floes that called forth Stanley’s
remark.

The young man replied to it by springing towards
the canoe, in which his companion was already seated.
Throwing the dead bird into it, he stooped, and gave
the light bark a powerful shove into the stream, ex-
claiming, as he did so, “There, strike out, you've no
time to lose, and I'll go round by the woods.”

There was indeed no time to lose. The huge mass
of ice was closing rapidly into the mouth of the creek,
and narrowing the only passage through which the ,
canoe could escape into the open water of the river
beyond. Stanley might, indeed, drag his canoe up the
bank, if so disposed, and reach home by a circuitous
walk through the woods; but by doing so he would
lose much time, and be under the necessity of carrying
14 UNGAVA.

his gun, blanket, tin kettle, and the goose, on his back.
His broad shoulders were admirably adapted for such a
burden, but he preferred the canoe to the woods on the
present occasion. Besides, the only risk he ran was
that of getting his canoe crushed to pieces. So, plunging
his paddle vigorously in the water, he shot through the
lessening channel like an arrow, and swept out on the
bosom of the broad river just as the ice closed with a
crash upon the shore and ground itself to powder on
the rocks. i

“Well done!” shouted Frank, with a wave of his
cap, as he witnessed the success of his friend’s exploit.

“Ali right,” replied Stanley, glancing over his
shoulder.

In another moment the canoe disappeared behind a
group of willows that grew on the point at the river’s
mouth, and the young man was left alone. For a few
minutes he stood contemplating the point behind which
his companion had disappeared; then giving a hasty
glance at the priming of his rifle, he threw it across his
shoulder, and striding rapidly up the bank, was soon
lost to view amid the luxuriant undergrowth of the
forest.
CHAPTER II.

Head-quarters~The men—Disputation and uncertainty—New uses for the
skins of dead boys /—Afutinous resolves.

OOSE FORT, the head-quarters and depot of the
fur-traders, who prosecute their traffic in almost

all parts of the wild and uninhabited regions of North .
America, stands on an island near the mouth of Moose
River. Like all the establishments of the fur-traders,
it is a solitary group of wooden buildings, far removed
beyond the influences—almost beyond the ken—of the
civilized world, and surrounded by the primeval wilder-
ness, the only tenants of which were, at the time we
write of, a few scattered tribes of Muskigon Indians, and
the wild animals whose flesh furnished them with food
and whose skins constituted their sole wealth. There
was little of luxury at Moose Fort. The walls of the
houses within the stockade, that served more as an
ornament than a defence, were of painted, in some cases
unpainted, planks. The floors, ceilings, chairs, tables,
and, in short, all the articles of furniture in the place,
were made of the same rough material. A lofty scaffold-
ing of wood rose above the surrounding buildings, and
served as an outlook, whence, at the proper season,
longing eyes were wont to be turned towards the sea in
expectation of “the ship” which paid the establishment
an annual visit from England. Several large iron field-
16 UNGAVA.

pieces stood before the front gate; but they were more
for the sake of appearance than use, and were never
fired except for the purpose of saluting the said ship on
the occasions of her arrival and departure.’ The first
boom of the cannon unlocks the long-closed portals of
connection between Moose Fort and England ; the second
salvo shuts them up again in their frozen domains for
another year! A century and a half ago, the band of
“adventurers trading into Hudson’s Bay” felled the
first trees and pitched their tents on the shores of
James’s Bay, and successive generations of fur-traders
have kept the post until the present day; yet there is
searcely a symptom of the presence of man beyond a
few miles round the establishment. Years ago the fort
was built, and there it stands now, with new tenants it
is true, but in its general aspect unchanged; and there
it is likely to remain, wrapped in its barrier of all but
impregnable solitude, for centuries to come.
Nevertheless, Moose is a comfortable place in its way,
and when contrasted with other trading establishments
is a very palace and temple of luxury. There are men
within its walls who can tell of log-huts and starvation,
solitude and desolation, compared with which Moose is a
terrestrial paradise. Frank Morton, whom we have
introduced in the first chapter, said, on his arrival at
Moose, that it appeared to him to be the very fag-end
of creation. He had travelled night and day for six
weeks from what he considered the very outskirts of
civilization, through uninhabited forests and almost un-
known rivers, in order to get to it; and while the feeling
of desolation that overwhelmed him on his first arrival was
strong upon him, he sighed deeply, and called it a “ horrid
dull hole.” But Frank was of a gay, hearty, joyous
disposition, and had not been there long ere he loved


UNGAVA. 17

the old fort dearly. Poor fellow! far removed though
he was from his fellow-men at Moose, he afterwards
learned that he had but obtained an indistinct notion of
the signification of the word “ solitude.”

There were probably about thirty human beings at
Moose, when Mr. George Stanley, one of the principal fur-
traders of the place, received orders from the governor
to make preparations, and select men, for the purpose of
proceeding many hundred miles deeper into the northern
wilderness, and establishing a station on the distant,
almost unknown, shores of Ungava Bay. No one at
Moose had ever been there before; no one knew any-
thing about the route, except from the vague report of
a few Indians; and the only thing that was definitely
known about the locality at all was, that its inhabitants
were a few wandering tribes of Esquimaux, who were
at deadly feud with the Indians, and generally massacred
all who came within their reach. What the capabilities
of the country were, in regard to timber and provisions,
nobody knew, and, fortunately for the success of the
expedition, nobody cared! At least those who were to
lead the way did not; and this admirable quality of
total indifference to prospective dangers is that which,
to a great extent, insures success in a forlorn-hope.

Of the leaders of this expedition the reader already
knows something. George Stanley was nearly six feet
high, forty years of age, and endued with a decision of
character that, but for his quiet good-humour, would
have been deemed obstinacy. He was deliberate in all
his movements, and exercised a control over his feelings
that quite concealed his naturally enthusiastic disposi-
tion. Moreover, he was married, and had a daughter
of ten years of age. This might be thought a dis-
advantage in his present circumstances ; but the governor

9

a
18 UNGAVA.

of the fur-traders, a most energetic and active ruler,
thought otherwise. He recommended that the family
should be left at Moose until an establishment had been
built, and a winter passed at Ungava. Afterwards they
could join him there. As for Frank Morton, he was an
inch taller than his friend Stanley, and equally powerful ;
fair-haired, blue-eyed, hilarious, romantic, twenty-two
years of age, and so impulsive that, on hearing of the
proposed expedition from one of his comrades, who
happened to be present when Stanley was reading the
despatches, he sprang from his chair, which he upset—
dashed out at the door, which he banged—and_ hurried
to his friend’s quarters in order to be first to volunteer
his services as second in command; which offer was
rendered unnecessary by Stanley’s eee the mo-
ment he entered his room,—

“Ha, Frank, my lad, the very man I wanted to see!
Here’s a letter from head-quarters ordering me off on an
expedition to Ungava. Now, I want volunteers; will
you go?”

It is needless to add that Frank’s blue eyes sparkled
with animation as he seized his friend’s hand and
replied, “To the North Hole if you like, or farther if
need be!”

It was evening. The sun was gilding the top of the
flag-staff with a parting kiss, and the inhabitants of
Moose Fort, having finished their daily toil, were making
preparations for their evening meal. On the end of the
wharf that jutted out into the stream was assembled
a picturesque group of men, who, from the earnest
manner in which they conversed, and the energy of
their gesticulations, were evidently discussing a subject:
of more than ordinary interest. Most of them were clad
in corduroy trousers, gartered below the knee with


UNGAVA. 19

thongs of deer-skin, and coarse striped cotton shirts,
open at the neck so as to expose their sun-burnt
breasts. A few wore caps which, whatever might have
been their original form, were now so much soiled and
battered out of shape by long and severe service that
they were nondescript; but most of these hardy back-
woodsmen were content with the covering afforded by
their thick bushy locks.

“No, no,” exclaimed a short, thick-set, powerful man,
with a somewhat ascetic cast of countenance ; “I’ve seen
more than enough o’ these rascally Huskies.* "Tis well
for me that I’m here this blessed day, an’ not made into
a dan to bob about in Hudson's Straits at the tail of a
white whale, like that poor boy Peter who was shot by
them varmints.”

“ What’s a dan?” asked a young half-breed who had
lately arrived at Moose, and knew little of Esquimau
implements.

“What a green-horn you must be, Frangois, not to
know what a dan is!” replied another, who was inclined
to be quizzical. .“ Why, it’s a sort of sea-carriage that
the Esquimaux tie to the tail of a walrus or sea-
horse when they feel inclined for a drive. When they
can’t get a sea-horse they catch a white whale asleep,
and wake him up after fastening the dan to his
tail. I suppose they have conjurers or wizards among
them, since Massan told us just now that poor Peter
was—”

“Bah! gammon,” interrupted Frangois with. a smile,
as he turned to the first speaker. “ But tell me, Massan,
what 7s a dan?”

“Tts a sort o’ float or buoy, lad, used by the Huskies,
and is made out o’ the skin o’ the seal. They tie it

* Esquimaux.
20 UNGAVA.

with a long line to their whale spears to show which
way the fish bolts when struck.”

“And did they use Peter's skin for such a purpose?”
inquired Francois, earnestly.

“They did,” replied Massan.

“And did you see them do it?”

“Yes, I did.”

Frangois gazed intently into his comrade’s face as he
spoke; but Massan was an adept at what is usually
ealled drawing the long bow, and it was with the most
imperturbable gravity that he continued—< Yes, I saw
them do it; but I could not render any assistance to
the poor child, for I was lying close behind a rock at
the time, with an arrow sticking between my shoulders,
and a score o’ them oily varmints a-shoutin’, and yellin’,
and flourishing their spears in search o’ me.”

“Tell us how it happened, Massan. Let’s hear the
story,” chorused the men, as they closed round their
comrade.

“Well then,” began the stout backwoodsman, pro-
ceeding leisurely to fill his pipe from an ornamented bag
that hung at his belt, “here goes. It was about the
year—a—lI forget the year, but it don’t matter—that
we were ordered off on an expedition to the Huskies;
’xactly sich a one as they wants us to go on now, and—
but you've heerd o’ that business, lads, haven’t you ?”

“ Yes, yes, we’ve heard all about it; go on.”

“Well,” continued Massan, “I needn’t be wastin’
time tellin’ you how we failed in that affair, and how
the Huskies killed some of our men and burnt our ship
to the water’s edge. After it was all over, and they
thought they had killed us all, I was, as I said, lyin’
behind a great rock in a sort o’ cave, lookin’ at the
dirty villains as they danced about on the shore, and took


UNGAVA. 21

possession of all our goods. Suddenly I seed two o
them carry Peter down to the beach, an’ I saw, as they
passed me, that he was quite dead. In less time than
I can count a hundred they took the skin off him, cut
off his head, sewed up the hole, tied his arms and legs
in a knot, blew him full o’ wind till he was fit to bu’st,
an’ then hung him up to dry in the sun! In fact they
made a dan of him !” ,

A loud shout of laughter greeted this startling con-
clusion. In truth, we must do Massan the justice to
say, that although he was much in the habit of amusing
his companions by entertaining them with anecdotes
which originated entirely in his own teeming fancy, he
never actually decerved them, but invariably, either by
a sly glance or by the astounding nature of his com-
munication, gave them to understand that he was dealing
not with fact but fiction.

“ But seriously, lads,” said Francois, whose intelligence,
added to a grave, manly countenance and a tall, muscular
frame, caused him to be regarded by his comrades as a
sort of leader both in action and in council, “what do
you think of our bourgeois’ plan? For my part, I’m
willing enough to go to any reasonable part o’ the
country where there are furs and Indians; but as for
this Ungava, from what Massan says, there’s neither
Indians, nor furs, nor victuals,—nothin’ but rocks, and
mountains, and eternal winter; and if we do get the
Huskies about us, they'll very likely serve us as they
did the last expedition to Richmond Gulf.”

“ Ay, ay,” cried one of the others, “ you may say that,
Francois. Nothin’ but frost and starvation, and nobody
to bury us when we're dead.”

“ Except the Huskies,” broke in another, “who would
save themselves the trouble by converting us all into dans!”
22 UNGAVA.

“Tush, man! stop your clapper,” cried Frangois, im-
patiently ; “let us settle this business. You know that
Monsieur Stanley said he would expect us to be ready
with an answer to-night—What think you, Gaspard ?
shall we go, or shall we mutiny ?”

The individual addressed was a fine specimen of an
animal, but not by any means a good specimen of a
man. He was of gigantic proportions, straight and tall
as a poplar, and endowed with the strength of a Hercules.
His glittering dark eyes and long black hair, together
with the hue of his skin, bespoke him of half-breed
extraction. But his countenance did not correspond to
his fine physical proportions. True, his features were
good, but they wore habitually a scowling, sulky ex-
pression, even when the man was pleased, and there
was more of sarcasm than joviality in the sound when
Gaspard condescended to laugh.

“Tl be shot if I go to such a hole for the best
bourgeois in the country,’ said he in reply to Frangois’
question.

“You'll be dismissed the service if you don’t,” re-
marked Massan with a smile.

To this Gaspard vouchsafed no reply save a growl
that, to say the best of it, did not sound amiable.

*Well, I think that we’re all pretty much of one
mind on the point,” continued Frangois; “and yet I
feel half ashamed to refuse after all, especially when I
see the good will with which Messieurs Stanley and
Morton agree to go.”

“T suppose you expect to be a bourgeois too some
day,” growled Gaspard with a sneer.

“Eh, tu gros chien?” cried Frangois, as with flashing
eyes and clinched fists he strode up to his ill-tempered
comrade.
UNGAVA. 23

“Come, come, Francois, don’t quarrel for nothing,”
said Massan, interposing his broad shoulders and pushing
him vigorously back.

At that moment an exclamation from one of the men
diverted the attention of the others.

“Voila! the canoe.”

“ Ay, it’s Monsieur Stanley’s canoe. I saw him and
Monsieur Morton start for the swamp this morning.”

“JT wonder what Dick Prince would have done in this
business had he been here,” said Francois to Massan in
a low tone, as they stood watching the approach of their
bourgeois’ canoe.

“Can’t say. I half think he would have gone.”

“There’s no chance of him coming back in time, I
fear.”

“None; unless he prevails on some goose to lend him
a pair of wings for a day or two. He won't be back
from the hunt for three weeks good.”

In a few minutes more the canoe skimmed up to the
wharf,

“ Here, lads,’ cried Mr. Stanley, as he leaped ashore
and dragged the canoe out of the water; “one of you
come and lift this canoe up the bank, and take these
geese to the kitchen.”

Two of the men instantly hastened to obey, and
Stanley, with the gun and paddles under his arm, pro-
ceeded towards the gateway of the fort. As he passed
the group assembled on the wharf, he turned and
said,—

“You'll come to the hall in an hour, lads; I shall
expect you to be ready with an answer by that time.”

“ Ay, ay, sir,” replied several of the men.

“ But we won’t go for all your expectations,” said one
in an undertone to a comrade.
24, UNGAVA.

“TI should think not,’ whispered another.

“Tl be hanged, and burnt, and frozen if J do,” said
a third.

In the meantime Mr. Stanley walked briskly towards
his dwelling, and left the men to grumble over their
troubles and continue their debate as to whether they
should or should not agree to go on the pending ex-
pedition to the distant regions of Ungava.
CHAPTER III.

Shows how Stanley deigned to consult with womankind—The opinions of a child
developed—Persuasion fails—Example triumphs—The first volunteers to
Ongava.

N reaching his apartment, which was in an angle

of the principal edifice in the fort, Mr. Stanley

flung down his gun and paddles, and drawing a chair

close to his wife, who was working with her needle

near a window, took her hand in his and heaved a deep
sigh.

“Why, George, that’s what you used to say to me
when you were at a loss for words in the days of our
courtship.”

“True, Jessie,” he replied, patting her shoulder with
a hand that rough service had rendered hard and long
exposure had burnt brown. “But the producing cause
then was different from what it is now. Zhen it was
love; now it is perplexity.”

Stanley’s wife was the daughter of English parents,
who had settled many years ago in the fur countries.
Being quite beyond the reach of any school, they had
been obliged to undertake the instruction of their only
child, Jessie, as they best could. At first this was an
easy matter, but as years flew by, and little Jessie’s
mind expanded, it was found to be a difficult matter to
carry on her education in a country in most parts of
26 UNGAVA.

which books were not to be had and schoolmasters did
not exist. When the difficulty first presented itself,
they talked of sending their little one to England to
finish her education; but being unable to bring them-
selves to part with her, they resolved to have a choice
selection of books sent out to them. Jessie’s mother
was a clever, accomplished, and lady-like woman, and
decidedly pious, so that the little flower, which was
indeed born to blush unseen, grew up to be a gentle,
affectionate woman—one who was a lady in all her
thoughts and actions, yet had never seen polite society,
save that of her father and mother. In process of time
Jessie became Mrs. Stanley, and the mother of a little
girl whose voice was, at the time her father entered,
ringing cheerfully in an adjoining room. Mrs. Stanley’s
nature was an earnest one, and she no sooner observed
that her husband was worried about something, than
she instantly dropped the light tone in which she at first
addressed. him.

“And what perplexes you now, dear George?” she
said, laying down her work and looking’ up in his face
with that straightforward, earnest gaze that in days of
yore had set the stout backwoodsman’s heart on fire, and
still kept it in a perennial blaze.

“Nothing very serious,’ he replied with a smile;
“only these fellows have taken it into their stupid heads
that Ungava is worse than the land beyond the Styx;
and so, after the tough battle that I had with you this
morning in order to prevail on you to remain here for a
winter without me, I’ve had to fight another battle with
them in order to-get them to go on this expedition.”

“Have you been victorious?” inquired Mrs. Stanley.

* No, not yet.”

“Do you really mean to say they are afraid to go?
UNGAVA. 27

Has Prince refused? are Francois, Gaspard, and Massan
cowards ?” she inquired, her eye kindling with indigna-
tion.

“Nay, my wife, not so. These men are not cowards ;
nevertheless they don’t feel inclined to go; and as for
Dick Prince, he has been off hunting for a week, and I
don’t expect him back for three weeks at least, by which
time we shall be off.”

Mrs. Stanley sighed, as if she felt the utter helpless-
ness-of woman in such affairs.

“Why, Jessie, that’s what you used to say to me when
you were at a loss for words in the days of our court-
ship,” said Stanley, smiling.

“Ah, George, like you I may say that the cause is
now perplexity ; for what can J do to help you in your
present difficulty ?”

“Truly not much. But I like to tell you of my
troubles, and to make more of them than they deserve,
for the sake of drawing forth your sympathy. Bless
your heart!” he said, in a sudden burst of enthusiasm,
“T would gladly undergo any amount of trouble every
day, if by so doing I should secure that earnest, loving,
anxious gaze of your sweet blue eyes as a reward!”
Stanley imprinted a hearty kiss on his wife’s cheek as
he made this lover-like speech, and then rose to place
his fowling-piece on the pegs from which it usually
hung over the fire-place.

At that moment the door opened, and a little girl,
with bright eyes and flaxen hair, bounded into the
room.

“QO mamma, mamma!” she said, holding up a sheet
of paper, while a look of intense satisfaction beamed on
her animated countenance, “see, I have drawn Chimo’s
portrait. Is it like, mamma? Do you think it like?”

1?
28 UNGAVA.

“Come here, Eda, my darling, come to me,” said
Stanley, seating himself on a chair and extending his
arms. Edith instantly left the portrait of the dog in
her mother’s possession, and, without waiting for an
opinion as to its merits, ran to her father, jumped on his
knee, threw her arms round his neck, and kissed him.
Edith was by no means a beautiful child, but miserable
indeed must have been the taste of him who would have
pronounced her plain-looking. Her features were not
regular; her nose had a strong tendency to what is
called snubbed, and her mouth was large; but to counter-
balance these defects she had a pair of large deep-blue
eyes, soft golden hair, a fair rosy complexion, and an
expression of sweetness at the corners of her mouth that
betrayed habitual good-nature. She was quick in all
her movements, combined with a peculiar softness and
grace of deportment that was exceedingly attractive.

“Would you like to go, my pet,” said her father, “to
a country far, far away in the north, where there are
high mountains and deep valleys, inhabited by beautiful
reindeer, and large lakes and rivers filled with fish ;
where there is very little daylight all the long winter,
and where there is scarcely any night all the long bright
summer? Would my Eda like to go there?”

The child possessed that fascinating quality of being
intensely interested in all that was said to her. As her
father spoke, her eyes gradually expanded and looked
straight into his, while her head turned slowly and very
slightly to one side. As he concluded, she replied, “Oh!
very, very, very much indeed,” with a degree of energy
that made both her parents laugh.

“Ah, my darling! would that my lazy men were
endued with some of your spirit,” said Stanley, patting
the child’s head.
- UNGAVA. 29

“Tg Prince a lazy man, papa?” inquired Edith
anxiously.

“No, certainly, Prince is not. Why do you ask?”

“ Because I love Prince.”

“ And do you not love all the men?”

“No,” replied Edith, with some hesitation ; “at least
I don’t love them very much, and I hate one!”

“Hate one!” echoed Mrs. Stanley. “Come here, my
darling.”

Eda slipped from her father’s knee and went to her
mother, feeling and looking as if she had said something
wrong.

Mrs. Stanley was not one of those mothers who,
whenever they hear of their children having done any-
thing wrong, assume a look of intense, solemnized horror,
that would lead an ignorant spectator to suppose that
intelligence had just been received of some sudden and
appalling catastrophe. She knew that children could
not be deceived by such pieces of acting. She expressed
on her countenance precisely what she felt—a slight
degree of sorrow that her child should cherish an evil
passion, which, she knew, existed in her heart in common
with all the human race, but which she expected, by
God’s help and blessing, to subdue effectually at last.
Kissing Eda’s forehead she said kindly,—

“Which of them do you hate, darling ?”

“Gaspard,” replied the child.

“And why do you hate him?”

“Because he struck my dog,” said Eda, while her face
flushed and her cyes sparkled; “and he is always rude
to everybody, and very, very eruel to the dogs.”

“That is very wrong of Gaspard ; but, dearest Eda,
do you not remember what is written in God’s Word,—
‘Love your enemies’? It is wrong to hate anybody.”
30 UNGAVA.

“T know that, mamma, and I don’t wish to hate
Gaspard, but I can’t help it. I wish if I didn’t hate
him, but it won't go away.”

“Well, my pet,” replied Mrs. Stanley, pressing the
child to her bosom, “but you must pray for him, and
speak kindly to him when you meet him, and that will
perhaps put it away. And now let us talk of the far-
off country that papa was speaking about. I wonder
what he has to tell you about it!”

Stanley had been gazing out of the window during
the foregoing colloquy, apparently inattentive, though,
in reality, deeply interested in what was said. Turning
round, he said,—

“TI was going to tell Eda that you had arranged to
follow me to that country next year, and that perhaps
you would bring her along with you.”

“ Nay, George, you mistake. I did not arrange to do
so,—-you only proposed the arrangement; but, to say
truth, I don’t like it, and I can’t make up my mind to
let you go without us. I cannot wait till next year.”

“Well, well, Jessie, I have exhausted all my powers
of persuasion. I leave it entirely to yourself to do as
you think best.”

At this moment the sound of deep voices was heard
in the hall, which was separated from Stanley’s quarters
by a thin partition of wood. In a few seconds the door
opened, and George Barney, the Irish butler and general
factotum to the establishment, announced that the “min
wos in the hall awaitin’.”

Giving Eda a parting kiss, Stanley vose and entered
the hall, where F rangois, Massan, Gaspard, and several
others were grouped in a corner. On their bourgeois
entering, they doffed their bonnets and bowed.

“Well, lads,” began Stanley, with a smile, “ you’ve


UNGAVA. 31

* thought better of it, I hope, and have come to volunteer
for this expedition” He checked himself and frowned,
for he saw by their looks that they had come with quite
a different intention. “What have you to say to me?”
he continued, abruptly.

The men looked uneasily at each other, and then fixed
their eyes on Francois, who was evidently expected to
be spokesman. :

“Come, Francois, speak out,” said Stanley; “if you
have any objections, out with them,—you're free to say
what you please here.”

As he spoke, and ere Francois could reply, Frank
Morton entered the room. “Ah!” he exclaimed, as he
deposited his rifle in a corner and flung his cap on the
table, “in time, I see, to help at the council!”

“T was just asking Francois to state his objections to
going,” said Stanley, as his young friend took his place
beside him.

“Objections!” repeated Frank; “what objections can
bold spirits have to go on a bold adventure? The ques-
tion should have been, ‘ Who will be first to volunteer 2’ ”

At this moment the door of Stanley’s apartment
opened, and his wife appeared leading Eda by the hand.

' “Here are two volunteers,” she said, with a smile;
“pray put us at the head of your list. We will go with
you to any part of the world!”

“Bravo!” shouted Frank, catching up Eda, with
whom he was a great favourite, and hugging her tightly
in his arms.

“Nay, but, wife, this is sheer folly. You know not
the dangers that await you—”

“Perhaps not,” interrupted Mrs. Stanley, “but you
know them, and that is enough for me.”

“Indeed, Jessie, I know them not. I can but guess
32 UNGAVA.

at them.—But, ah! well, ‘tis useless to argue further.
Be it so; we shall head the list with you and Eda.”

“ And put my name next,” said a deep-toned voice from
behind the other men. All turned round in surprise.

“Dick Prince!” they exclaimed ; “you here?”

“ Ay, lads,” said a tall man of about forty, who was
not so remarkable for physical development (though in
this respect he was by no means deficient) as for a
certain decision of character that betrayed itself in every
outline of his masculine, intelligent countenance—“ ay,
lads, ’m here; an’ sorry am I that I’ve jist comed in
time to hear that you're sich poor-spirited rascals as to
hang back when ye should jump for’ard.”

“But how came you so opportunely, Prince?” inquired
Stanley.

“JT met an Injin, sir, as told me you was goin’ off; so
I thought you might want me, and comed straight back.
And now, sir, I’m ready to go; and so is Francois,” he
continued, turning to that individual, who seized his
hand and exclaimed, “That am I, my boy, to the moon
if ye like!”

“ And Massan, too,” continued Prince.

“All right; book me for Nova Zembla,” replied that
worthy.

“So, so,” eried Mr. Stanley, with a satisfied smile.
“T see, lads, that we’re all of one mind now. Is it not
so? Are we agreed ?”

“Agreed! agreed!” they replied with one voice.

“That’s well,” he continued. “Now then, lads, clear
out and get your kits ready—And ho! Barney, give
these men a glass of grog.—Prince, I shall want to talk
with you this evening. Come to me an hour hence——
And now,” he added, taking Eda by the hand, “come
along, my gentle volunteers ; let’s go to supper.”
CHAPTER IV.

Explanatory, but not dry !—Murderous designs thwarted by vigorous treat-
ment—The cattle pay for it /—Preparations for a long, long voyage.

N order to render our story intelligible, it is necessary

here to say a few words explanatory of the nature

and object of the expedition referred to in the foregoing
chapters.

Many years previous to the opening of our tale, it
was deemed expedient, by the rulers of the Hudson’s
Bay Fur Company, to effect, if possible, a reconciliation
or treaty of peace between the Muskigon Indians of
James’s Bay and the Esquimaux of Hudson’s Straits,
The Muskigons are by no means a warlike race; on the
contrary, they are naturally timid, and only plucked up
courage to make war on their northern neighbours in
consequence of these poor people being destitute of fire-
arms, while themselves were supplied with guns and
ammunition by the fur-traders. The Esquimaux, how.
ever, are much superior to the Muskigon Indians physic-
ally, and would have held their adversaries in light
esteem had they met on equal terms, or, indeed, on any
terms at all; but the evil was that they never met.
The Indians always took them by surprise, and from
behind the rocks and bushes sent destruction into their
camps with the deadly bullet; while their helpless foes
could only reply with the comparatively harmless arrow

3
34 UNGAVA.

and spear. Thus the war was in fact an annual raid of
murderers. The conceited Muskigons returned to their
wigwams in triumph, with bloody scalps hanging at their
belts; while the Esquimaux pushed farther into their
ice-bound fastnesses, and told their comrades, with lower-
ing brows and heaving bosoms, of the sudden attack,
and of the wives and children who had been butchered
in cold blood, or led captive to the tents of the cowardly
red men.

At such times those untutored inhabitants of the
frozen regions vowed vengeance on the Indians, and
cursed in their hearts the white men who supplied them
with the deadly gun. But the curse was unmerited.
In the councils of the fur-traders the subject of Esqui-
mau wrongs had been mooted, and plans for the
amelioration of their condition devised. Trading posts
were established on Richmond Gulf and Little Whale
River; but owing to circumstances which it is unneces-
sary to detail here, they turned out failures, and were
at length abandoned. Still, those in charge of the dis-
tricts around Hudson’s Bay and Labrador continued to
use every argument to prevail on the Indians to cease
their murderous assaults on their unoffending neigh-
bours, but without much effect. At length the governor
of East Main—a, territory lying on the eastern shores
of James’s Bay—adopted an argument which proved
eminently successful, at least for one season.

His fort was visited by a large band of Muskigons
from Albany and Moose districts, who brought a quantity
of valuable furs, for which they demanded guns and
ammunition, making no secret of their intention to pro-
ceed on an expedition against their enemies the Esqui-
maux. On hearing of this, the governor went out to
them, and, in a voice of extreme indignation, assured
UNGAVA. 35

them that they should not have an ounce of supplies for
such a purpose.

“But we will pay you for what we ask. We are not
beggars!” exclaimed the astonished Indians, into whose
calculations it had never entered that white traders would
refuse good furs merely in order to prevent the death of
a few Hsquimaux.

“See,” cried the angry governor, snatching up the
nearest bale of furs—<“see, that’s all I care for you or
your payment!” and hurling the pack at its owner's head,
he felled him therewith to the ground. “No,” he con-
tinued, shaking his fist at them, “ I'll not give you as much
powder or shot as would blow off the tail of a rabbit,
if you were to bring me all the skins in Labrador !”

The consequence of this vigorous conduct was that
the Indians retired crest-fallen—vutterly discomfited.
But in the camp that night they plotted revenge. In
the darkness of the night they slaughtered all the cattle
around the establishment, and before daybreak were
over the hills and far away in the direction of their
hunting-erounds, loaded with fresh beef sufficient for the
supply of themselves and their families for the winter !
It was a heavy price to pay; but the poor Esquimaux
remained unmolested that year, while the Indians re-
ceived a salutary lesson. But the compulsory peace was
soon broken, and it became apparent that the only
effectual way to check the bloodthirsty propensity of
the Indians was to arm their enemies with the gun.
The destruction of the first expedition to the Esquimaux,
and the bad feeling that existed in the minds of the na-
tives of Richmond Gulf consequent thereon, induced the
fur-traders to fix on another locality for a new attempt.
Tt was thought that the remote solitudes of Ungava
Bay, at the extreme north of Labrador,—where the white
36 UNGAVA.

man’s axe had never yet felled the stunted pines of the
north, nor the ring of his rifle disturbed its echoes—would
be the spot best suited for the erection of a wooden fort.

Accordingly, it was appointed that Mr. George Stanley
should select a coadjutor, and proceed with a party of
picked men to the scene of action as early in the spring
as the ice would permit, and there build a fort as he
best could, with the best materials he could find; live
on whatever the country afforded in the shape of food ;
establish a trade in oil, whalebone, arctic foxes, etc., etc.
if they were to be got; and bring about a reconciliation
between the Esquimaux and the Indians of the interior,
if that were possible. With the careful minuteness
peculiar to documents, Stanley’s instructions went on to
point out that he was to start from Moose—with two
half-sized canoes, each capable of carrying ten pieces or
packages of 90 lbs. weight each, besides the erew—and
bore through the ice, if the ice would allow him, till he
should reach Richmond Gulf; cross this gulf, and ascend,
if practicable, some of the rivers which fall into it from
the height of land supposed, but not positively known,
to exist somewhere in the interior. Passing this height,
he was to descend by the rivers and lakes (if such ex-
isted) leading to the eastward, until he should fall upon
a river reported to exist in these lands, and called by
the natives Caniapuscaw, or South River, down which
he was to proceed to the scene of his labours, Ungava
Bay; on reaching which he was considerately left to the
unaided guidance of his own discretion! Reduced to
their lowest term and widest signification, the instruc-
tions directed our friend to start as early as he could,
with whom he chose, and with what he liked; travel as
fast as possible over terra incognita to a land of ice—
' perhaps, also, of desolation—and locate himself among
UNGAVA. 37

bloody savages. It was hoped that there would be
found a sufficiency of trees wherewith to build him a
shelter against a prolonged winter; in the meantime he
might enjoy a bright arctic summer sky for his canopy!

But it was known, or at least supposed, that the
Esquimaux were fierce and cruel savages, if not can-
nibals. Their very name implies something of the sort.
It signifies eaters of raw flesh, and was bestowed on
them by their enemies the Muskigons. They call them-
selves Innuit—men, or warriors; and although they
certainly do eat raw flesh when necessity compels them
—which it often does—they asserted that they never
did so from choice. However, be this as it may, the
remembrance of their misdeeds in the first expeditions
was fresh in the minds of the men in the service of the
fur-traders, and they evinced a decided unwillingness to
venture into such a country and among such a people,
—an unwillingness which was only at length overcome
when Mrs. Stanley and her little daughter heroically
volunteered to share the dangers of the expedition in
the manner already narrated.

Stanley now made vigorous preparations for his de-
parture. Some of the men had already been enrolled,
as we have seen, and there were more than enough of
able and active volunteers ready to complete the crews.

“Come hither, lads,” he cried, beckoning to two men
who were occupied on the bank of the river, near the
entrance to Moose Fort, in repairing the side of a canoe.

The men left their work and approached. They were
both Esquimaux, and good stout, broad-shouldered, thick-
set specimens of the race they were. One was called
Oolibuck,* the other Augustus; both of which names are

* This name is spelt as it should be pronounced. The correct spelling is
Ouligbuck.
38 UNGAVA.

now chronicled in the history of arctic adventure as hav-
ing belonged to the well-tried and faithful interpreters
to Franklin, Back, and Richardson, in their expeditions
of north-west discovery.

“Tm glad to see you busy at the canoe, boys,” said
Stanley, as they came up. “Of course you are both
willing to revisit your countrymen.”

“Yes, sir, we is. Glad to go where you choose send
us,” answered Oolibuck, whose broad, oily countenance
lighted up with good-humour as he spoke.

“It will remind you of your trip with Captain Frank-
lin,” continued Stanley, addressing Augustus.

“Me no like to ‘member dat,” said the Esquimau,
with a sorrowful shake of the head. “Me love bour-
geois Franklin, but tink me never see him more.”

“T don’t know that, old fellow,” returned Stanley,
with a smile. “Franklin is not done with his discoveries
yet; there’s a talk of sending off another expedition
some of these days, I hear, so you may have a chance
yet.”

Augustus’s black eyes sparkled with pleasure as he
heard this. He was a man of strong feeling, and dur-
ing his journeyings with our great arctic hero had become
attached to him im consequence of the hearty and un-
varying kindness and consideration with which he treated
all under his command. But the spirit of enterprise had
been long slumbering, and poor Augustus, who was now
past the prime of life, feared that he should never see
his kind master more.

“Now I want you, lads, to get everything in readi-
ness for an immediate start,” continued Stanley, glancing
upwards at the sky; “if the weather holds, we shan’t
be long of paying your friends a visit. Are both canoes
repaired ?”






UNGAVA. 39

“ Yes, sir, they is,’ replied Oolibuck.

“ And the bageage, is it laid out? And—”

“Pardon, monsieur,” interrupted Massan, walking up,
and touching his cap. “Tve jest been down at the
point, and there’s a rig’lar nor’-wester a-comin’ down.
The ice is sweepin’ into the river, an’ it'll be choked up
by to-morrow, I’m afraid.”

Stanley received this piece of intelligence with a slight
frown, and looked seaward, where a dark line on the
horizon and large fields of ice showed that the man’s
surmise was fale to prove correct.

“Tt matters not,” said Stanley, hastily; “I’ve made
arrangements to start to-morrow, and start we shall, in
Spite of ice or wind, if the canoes will float!”

Massan, who had been constituted principal steersman
of the expedition, in virtue of his well-tried skill and
indomitable energy, felt that the tone in which this was
said implied a want of confidence in his willingness to
go under any circumstances, so he said eee

“ Pardon, monsieur ; I did not say we could not start.”

“True, true, Massan; don’t be hurt. I was only
grumbling at the weather,” answered Stanley, with a
laugh.

Just then the first puff of the coming breeze swept up
the river, ruffling its hitherto glassy surface.

“There it comes,” cried Stanley, as he quitted the
spot. “Now, Massan, see to it that the crews are assem-
bled in good time on the beach to-morrow. We start at
daybreak.”

“Oui, monsieur,” replied Massan, as he turned on his
heel and walked away. “Parbleu! we shall indeed start
to-morrow, an’ it please you, if all the ice and wind in
the polar regions was blowed down the coast and crammed
into the river’s mouth. C'est vrai!”
CHAPTER V.

Ice looks unpropitious—The start—An important member of the party nearly
forgotten—Chimo.

TANLEY’S forebodings and Massan’s prognostica-
tions proved partly incorrect on the following
morning. The mouth of the river, and the sea beyond,
were quite full of ice; but it was loose, and intersected
in all directions by lanes of open water. Moreover,
there was no wind.

The gray light of early morning brightened into
dawn, and the first clear ray of the rising sun swept
over a scene more beautiful than ever filled the fancy
of the most imaginative poet of the Temperate Zones.
The sky was perfectly unclouded, and the surface of the
sea was completely covered with masses of ice, whose
tops were pure white like snow, and their sides a
delicate greenish-blue, their dull, frosted appearance
forming a striking contrast to the surrounding water,
which shone, when the sun glanced upon it, like bur-
nished silver. The masses of ice varied endlessly in
form and size, some being flat and large like fields,
others square and cornered like bastions or towers—
here a miniature temple with spires and minarets, there
a crystal fortress with embrasures and battlements; and,
in the midst of these, thousands of broken fragments,
having all the varied outlines of the larger masses,




UNGAVA. 4

appearing like the smaller houses, cottages, and villas
of this floating city of ice.

“Oh how concn exclaimed little Edith, as her
father led her and Mrs. Stanley towards the canoes,
which floated lightly in the water, while the men stood
in a picturesque group beside them, leaning on their
bright red. paddles.

“Tt is indeed, my pet,” replied Stanley, a smile almost
of sadness playing around his lips.

“Come, George, don’t let evil forebodings assail you
to-day,” said Mrs. Stanley in a low tone. “It does not
become the leader of a forlorn-hope to cast a shade over
the spirits of his men at the very outset.” She smiled
as she said this, and pressed his arm; but despite her-
self, there was more of sadness in the smile and in the
pressure than she intended to convey.

Stanley’s countenance assumed its usual firm but
cheerful expression while she spoke. “True, Jessie,
I must not damp the men; but when I look at you
and our darling Eda, I may be forgiven for betraying
a passing glance of anxiety. May the Almighty pro-
tect you !”

“Ts the country we are going to like this, papa?”
inquired Eda, whose intense admiration of the fairylike
scene rendered her oblivious of all else.

“Yes, dear, more like this than anything else you
have ever seen; but the sun does not always shine so
brightly as it does just now, and sometimes there are
terrible snow-storms. But we will build you a nice
house, Eda, with a very large fire-place, so that we

won't feel the cold.”

The entire population of Moose Fort was assembled
on the beach to witness the departure of the expedi-
tion. The party consisted of fifteen souls. As we
42 UNGAVA.

shall follow them to the icy regions of Ungava, it
may be worth while to rehearse their names in order
as follows :—

Mr. and Mrs. Staniey and Epitx.

Frank Morton.

Massan, the guide.

Dick PRINCE, principal hunter to the party.

La Rocug, Stanley’s servant and cook.

Bryan, the blacksmith.

FRANCo!s, the carpenter.

OOLIBUCK,

AuGuUSTUS, )Esquimau interpreters.

Moszs,

GASPARD, labourer and fisherman.

OOSTESIMOW,

Ma-IsTEQUAN,

The craft in which these were about to embark were

three canoes, two of which were large and one small.
They were made of birch bark, a substance which is
tough, light, and buoyant, and therefore admirably
adapted for the construction of craft that have not
only to battle against strong and sometimes shallow
currents, but have frequently to be carried on the
shoulders of their crews over rocks and mountains.
The largest canoe was sixteen feet long by five feet
broad in the middle, narrowing gradually towards the
bow and stern to a sharp edge. Its loading consisted
of bales, kegs, casks, and bundles of goods and provi-
sions; each bale or cask weighed exactly 90 lbs., and was
called a piece. There were fifteen pieces in the canoe,
besides the crew of six men, and Mr. Stanley and his
family, who occupied the centre, where their bedding,
tied up in flat bundles and covered with oiled cloth,
formed a comfortable couch. Notwithstanding the size

finan guides and hunters.
UNGAVA. 43

and capacity of this craft, it had been carried down to
the beach on the shoulders of Massan and Dick Prince,
who now stood at its bow and stern, preventing it with
their paddles from rubbing its frail sides against the
wharf; for although the bark is tough, and will stand
a great deal of tossing in water and plunging among
rapids, it cannot sustain the slightest blow from a rock or
other hard substance without being cracked, or having the
eum which covers the seams scraped off. To those who
are unacquainted with travelling in the wild regions of
the north it would seem impossible that a long journey
could be accomplished in such tender boats; but a little
experience proves that, by judicious treatment and careful
management, voyages of great length may be safely accom-
plished in them—that they are well adapted for the
necessities of the country, and can be taken with greater
ease through a rough, broken, and mountainous region
than ordinary wooden boats, even of smaller size, could be.

The second canoe was in all respects similar to the
one we have described, excepting that it was a few
inches shorter. The third was much smaller—so small
that it could not contain more than three men, with
their provisions and a few bales, and so light that it
could with the greatest ease be carried on the shoulders
of one man. It was intended to serve as a sort of
pioneer and hunting craft, which should lead the way,
dart hither and thither in pursuit of game, and warn
the main body of any danger that should threaten them
ahead. It was manned by the two Indian guides, Oostesi-
mow and Ma-istequan, and by Frank Morton, who being
acknowledged one of the best shots of the party, was by
tacit understanding regarded as commissary-general. It
might have been said that Frank was the best shot,
were it not for the fact that the aim of Dick Prince
44, UNGAVA.

was perfect, and it is generally admitted that perfection
cannot be excelled.

Although differing widely in their dispositions and
appearance, the men of the expedition were similar at
least in one respect—they were all first-rate, and had
been selected as being individually superior to their
comrades at Moose Fort. And a noble set of fellows
they looked, as they stood beside their respective canoes,
leaning on their little, brilliantly coloured paddles, await-
ing the embarkation of their leaders. They all wore
new suits of clothes, which were sufficiently similar to
give the effect of a uniform, yet so far varied in detail
as to divest them of monotony, and relieve the eye by
agreeable contrast of bright colours. All of them wore
light-blue cloth capotes with hoods hanging down
behind, all had corduroy trousers gartered below the
knee, and all wore moccasins, and had fire-bags stuck
in their belts, in which were contained the materials
for producing fire, tobacco, and pipes. So far they were
alike, but the worsted belts of some were scarlet, of
others crimson, and of others striped. Some gartered
their trousers with thongs of leather, others used elegant
bands of bead-work—the gifts, probably, of sorrowing
sweethearts, sisters, or mothers— while the fire-bags,
_ besides being composed some of blue, some of scarlet
cloth, were ornamented more or less with flowers and
fanciful devices elegantly wrought in the gaily-dyed
quills of the porcupine.

On seeing Stanley and his wife and child approach-
ing, Massan gave the order to embark. In a moment
every man divested himself of his capote, which he
folded up and placed on the seat he was to occupy ;
then, shaking hands all round for the last time, they
stepped lightly and carefully into their places.
UNGAVA. 45

“All ready I see, Massan,” said Stanley, as he came
up, “and the ice seems pretty open. How say you?
shall we make a good day of it?”

Massan smiled dubiously as he presented his thick
shoulder as a support to Mrs. Stanley, while she stepped
into her place. He remembered the conversation of the
previous evening, and determined that, whatever should
happen, he at least would not cast the shadow of a
doubt on their prospects. But in his own mind he
suspected that their progress would be interrupted ere
long, as the wind, although very light—almost imper-
ceptible—was coming from the north-west.

“T¢1l be full flood in less nor half-an-hour,” he replied,
“and—(take care, Miss Edith, give me your little hand ;
there, now, jump light)—and we'll be past the pint by
that time, and git the good o’ the ebb till sun-down.”

“T fear,” said Frank Morton, approaching, “that the
ice is rather thick for us; but it don’t much matter, it
will only delay us a bit—-and at any rate we'll make
good way as far as the point.”

“True, true,” said Stanley; “and it’s a great matter
to get fairly started. Once off, we must go forward.
All ready, lads ?”

“ Ay, ay, six.”

“ Now, Frank, into your canoe and show us the way;
mind we trust to your guidance to keep us clear of
blind alleys among these lanes of water in the ice.”

At this moment Edith—who had been for the last
few minutes occupied in alternately drying her eyes and
kissing her hands to a group of little children who had
been her play-fellows during her sojourn at the fort—
uttered a loud exclamation.

“Oh! oh! papa, mamma—Chimo !—-we've forgot
Chimo! Oh me! don’t go away yet!”


46 UNGAVA.

“So we have!” said her father; “dear me, how
stupid to forget our old friend !—Hallo! Frank, Frank,
we've forgot the dog,” shouted Stanley to his young
comrade, who was on the point of starting.

On hearing this, Frank gave a long shrill whistle.
“That'll bring him if he’s within ear-shot.”

When the well-known sound broke upon Chimo’s ear,
he was lying coiled up in front of the kitchen fire, being
privileged to do so in consequence of his position as
Edith’s favourite. The cook, having gone out a few
minutes previously, had left Chimo to enjoy his slumbers
in solitude, so that, when he started suddenly to his
feet on hearing Frank’s whistle, he found himself a
prisoner. But Chimo was a peculiarly strong-minded
and strong-bodied dog, and was possessed of an iron
will! He was of the Esquimau breed, and bore some
resemblance to the Newfoundland, but was rather shorter
in the legs, longer in the body, and more powerfully
made. Moreover, he was more shaggy, and had a stout,
blunt, straightforward appearance, which conveyed to
the beholder the idea that he scorned flattery, and would
not consent to be petted on any consideration. Indeed
this was the case, for he always turned away with quiet
contempt from any of the men who attempted to fondle
him. He made an exception, however, of little Edith,
whom he not only permitted to clap him to any extent,
but deliberately invited her to do so by laying his great
head in her lap, rubbing himself against her, and wag-
ging his bushy tail, as if to say, “Now, little girl, do
what you will with me!” And Eda never refused the
animal’s dumb-show request. When she was very young
and had not much sense—at which time Chimo was
young too, but possessed of a great deal of sense—she
formed a strong affection for the Esquimau dog, an
UNGAVA. A

affection which she displayed by putting her little arms
round his neck and hugging him until he felt a tendency
to suffocation; she also pulled his ears and tail, and
stuffed her fat little hands into his eyes and mouth,—all
of which dreadful actions she seemed to think, in her
childish ignorance, must be very pleasant to Chimo, and
all of which the dog appeared really to enjoy. At all
events, whether he liked it or not, he came regularly
to have himself thus treated every day. As Eda grew
older she left off choking her favourite and poking out
his eyes, and contented herself with caressing him.
Chimo also evinced a partiality for Mr. Stanley and
Frank Morton, and often accompanied the latter on his
hunting excursions; but he always comported himself
towards them with dignified hauteur, accepting their
caresses with a slight wag of acknowledgment, but
never courting their favour.

On jumping up, as we have already said, and observ-
ing that the door was shut, the dog looked slowly and
calmly round the apartment, as if to decide on what
was best to be done; for Chimo was a dog of great
energy of character, and was never placed in any cir-
cumstances in which he did not pursue some decided
course of action. On the present occasion there was
not a hole, except the key-hole, by which he could hope
to make his escape. Yes, by-the-by, there was a hole
in the window, which was made of parchment ; but as
that was merely the bullet-hole through which the
animal that had given his skin for a window had been
shot, and was not larger than a shilling, it did not afford
much hope. Nevertheless Chimo regarded it with a
steady gaze for a minute or two, then he turned to the
fire, and having satisfied himself that the chimney was
impracticable, being full of flames and smoke, he faced
48 UNGAVA.

the window once more, and showed his teeth, as if in
chagrin.

“Whew-ew! Chimo-o-o!” came Frank’s voice, float-
ing faintly from afar. Chimo took aim at the bullet-
hole. One vigorous bound—a horrible crash, that
nearly caused the returning cook to faint—and the
dog was free.

“Ah, here he comes !—good dog!” cried Frank, as
the animal came bounding over intervening obstacles
towards the canoes. Chimo made straight for the small
canoe, in answer to his master’s call; but, like many
dogs and not a few men, he owned a higher power than
that of a master. The voice of his little mistress
sounded sweetly in his ear, like the sound of a silver
bell. “O Chimo, Chimo! my darling pet! come here
—here.” It was a soft, tiny voice at the loudest, and
was quite drowned amid the talking and laughter of the
men, but Chimo heard it. Turning at a sharp angle
from his course, he swept past the light canoe, and
bounding into that of Mr. Stanley, lay down beside
Eda and placed his head in her lap, where it was
immediately smothered in the caresses of its young
niistress.

Mr. Stanley smiled and patted his little girl on the
shoulder, as he said, “That’s right, Eda; the love of
a faithful dog is worth having and cherishing.” Then
turning towards the stern of the canoe, where Massan
stood erect, with his steering paddle ready for action,
he said to that worthy,—

“ Now, Massan, all ready ; give the word.”

“ Ho, ho, boys; forward!”

The paddles dipped simultaneously in the water with
a loud, gurgling sound; the two large canoes shot out
into the stream abreast of each other, preceded by the
UNGAVA. 49

light one, which, urged forward by the powerful arms
of Frank and the two Indians, led the way among the
floating fields of ice. The people on shore took off
their caps and waved a last farewell. Dick Prince, who
possessed a deep, loud, sonorous voice, began one of those
beautiful and wild yet plaintive songs peculiar to the
voyageurs of the wilderness. The men joined, with a
full, rich swell, in the chorus, as they darted forward
with arrow-like speed—and the voyage began.
CHAPTER VI

Character partially developed—Ducks for supper—A threatened nap —
Bundled out on the ice.

ORTUNATELY the wind veered round to the
south-east soon after the departure of the canoes
from Moose Fort, and although there was not enough of
it to ruffle the surface of the river, it had the effect
of checking the influx of ice from James’s Bay, The
tide, too, began to ebb, so that the progress of the
canoes was even more rapid than it appeared to be;
and long before the sun set, they were past the point
at the mouth of the river, and coasting along the shores
of the salt ocean.

Outside of them the sea was covered with hummocks
and fields of ice, some of which ever and anon met in
the cross currents caused by the river, with a violent
shock. Close to the shore, however, the thickness of
the ice caused it to strand, leaving a lane of open water,
along which the canoes proceeded easily, the depth of
water being much more than sufficient for them, as the
largest canoe did not draw more than a foot. Some-
times, however, this space was blocked up by smaller
fragments, and considerable difficulty was experienced
in steering the canoes amongst them. Had the party
travelled in boats, they would have easily dashed through
many of these checks; but with canoes it is far otherwise.
UNGAVA. 51

Not only are their bark sides easily broken, but the
seams are covered with a kind of pitch which becomes
so brittle in ice-cold water that it chips off in large
lumps with the slightest touch. For the sea, therefore,
boats are best; but when it comes to carrying the craft
over waterfalls and up mountain sides, for days and weeks
together, canoes are more useful, owing to their lightness.

“Take care, Massan,” said Mr. Stanley, on approach-
ing one of these floes. “Don’t chip the gum off if you
can help it. If we spring a leak, we shan’t spend our
first night on a pleasant camping-ground, for the shore
just hereabouts does not look inviting.”

“No fear, sir,” replied Massan. “Dick Prince is in
the bow, and as long as his mouth’s shut I keep my
mind easy.”

“You appear to have unlimited confidence in Prince,”
said Stanley, with a smile. “Does he never fail in any-
thing, that you are so sure of him ?”

“Fail!” exclaimed the steersman, whose paddle swept
constantly in a circle round his head, while he changed
it from side to side as the motions of the canoe required
—*fail! ay, that does he sometimes. Mortal man must
get on the wrong side o’ luck now and then. I’ve seen
Dick Prince fail, but I never saw him make a mistake.”

“Well, I’ve no doubt that he deserves your good
opinion. Nevertheless, be more than ordinarily careful.
If you had a wife and child in the canoe, Massan, you
would understand my anxiety better.” Stanley smiled
as he said this, and the worthy steersman replied in a
grave tone,—

“T have the wife and child of my bourgeois under
my care.”

“True, true, Massan,” said Stanley, lying back on his
couch and conversing with his wife in an undertone.
52 UNGAVA.

«Tis curious,” said he, “to observe the confidence that
Massan has in Prince; and yet it would be difficult to say
wherein consists the superiority of the one over the other.”

“Perhaps it is the influence of a strong mind over a
weaker,” suggested his wife.

“Ti may be so. Yet Prince is an utterly uneducated
man. True, he shoots a hair’s-breadth better than
Massan; but he is not a better canoeman, neither is
he more courageous, and he is certainly less powerful :
nevertheless Massan looks up to him and speaks of him
as if he were greatly his superior. The secret of his
power must lie in that steady, never-wavering inflexi-
bility of purpose, that characterizes our good bowman in
everything he does.”

“Papa,” said Edith, who had been holding a long con-
yersation with Chimo on the wonders of the scene
around them—if we may call that a conversation where
the one party does all the talking and the other all the
listening—‘ papa, where shall we all sleep to-night ?”

The thought seemed to have struck her for the first
time, and she looked up eagerly for an answer, while
Chimo gave a deep sigh of indifference, and went to
sleep, or pretended to do so, where he was.

“In the woods, Eda. How do you think you will
like it 2”

“Oh, I’m sure I shall like it very much,” replied the
little one. “Ive often wished to live in the woods
altogether, like the Indians, and do nothing but wander
about and pull berries.”

“ Ah, Jessie,” said Stanley, “what an idle little bag-
gage your daughter is! I fear she’s a true chip of the
old block !”

“Which do you consider the old block,” retorted Mrs.
Stanley —* you or me?”






UNGAVA. 53

“Never mind,wife; we'll leave that an open question.—
But tell me, Eda, don’t you think that wandering about
and pulling berries would be a very useless sort of
life ?” :

“No,” replied Edith, gravely. “Mamma, often tells
me that God wants me to be happy, and I’m quite sure
that wandering about all day in the beautiful woods
would make me happy.”

“But, my darling,” said Stanley, smiling at the sim-
plicity of this plausible argument in favour of an idle
life, “don’t you know that we ought to try to make
others happy too, as well as durselves ?”

“Oh yes,” replied Eda, with a bright smile, “I know
that, papa; and I would try to make everybody happy
by going with them and showing them where the finest
flowers and berries were to be found; and so we would
all be happy together, and that’s what God wants, is
it not?”

Mr. Stanley glanced towards his wife with an arch
smile. “There, Jessie, what think you of that?”

“Nay, husband, what think you ?”

“TI think,” he replied in an undertone, “that your
Sagacious teaching against idleness, and in favour of
diligence and attention to duty, and so forth, has not
taken very deep root yet.”

“And J think,” said Mrs. Stanley, “ that however wise
you men may be in some things, you are all most incom-
prehensibly stupid in regard to the development of young
minds.”

“Take care now, Jessie; you’re verging upon meta-
physics. But you have only given me your opinion of
Men as.yet; you have still to say what you think of
Eda’s acknowledged predilection for idleness.”

“Well,” replied Mrs. Stanley, “I think that my
54 UNGAVA.

sagacious teaching, as you are pleased to call it, has
taken pretty firm root already, and that Eda’s speech is
one of the first bright, beautiful blossoms, from which
we may look for much fruit hereafter; for to make
one’s self and one’s fellow-creatures happy, because such
és the will of God, seems to me a simple and comprehen-
sive way of stating the whole duty of man.”

Stanley’s eyes opened a little at this definition. “ Hum!
multum in parvo; it may be so,” he said; and casting
down his eyes, he was soon lost in a profound reverie,
while the canoe continued to progress forward by little
inipulsive bounds, under the rapid stroke of the paddles.
Eda rested her fair cheek on the shaggy brow of Chimo,
and accompanied him to the land of nod, until the sun
began to sink behind the icebergs on the seaward
horizon, where a dark line indicated an approaching
breeze.

Massan cast an uneasy glance at this from time to
time. At length he called to his friend in the bow,
“Hallo, Prince! will it come stiff, think ye?”

“No,” replied Prince, rising and shading his eyes with
his hand; “itll be only a puff; but that’s enough to
drive the ice down on us, an’ shut up the open water.”

“It’s my pinion,” said Massan, “that we should hold
away for the p’int yonder, an’ camp there.”

Dick Prince nodded assent, and resumed his paddle.

As he did so the report of a gun came sharply over
the water.

“ Ha!” exclaimed Stanley, looking out ahead ; “what's
that ?”

“Only Mr. Frank,” said Massan; “he’s dowsed two
birds. I seed them splash into the water.”

“That's right,’ said Stanley; “we shall have some-
thing fresh for the kettle to-night. And, by the way,
UNGAVA. 55

we'll need all we can kill, for we haven’t much provision
to depend on, and part of it must be reserved in case of
accidents, so that if Frank does not do his duty, we shall
have to live on birch bark, Massan.”

“That would be rayther tough, I’m afeerd,” replied
the steersman, laughing. “I’ve tried the tail o’ a deer-
skin coat afore now, an’ it wasn’t much to boast of ; but
I niver tried a birch-bark steak. I doubt it would need
a power o’ chewin’!”

By this time the two large canoes had drawn grad-
ually nearer to the leading one. As they approached
Frank ordered his men to cease paddling.

“Well, Frank, what success?” said’ Stanley, as they
came up.

“There’s our supper,” cried Frank, tossing a large
duck into the canoe; “and there’s a bite for the men,”
he added, sending a huge gray goose into the midst of
them. “I saw a herd of reindeer on the other side of
the point; but the ice closed up the passage, and pre-
vented me from getting within range. It will stop our
further progress for to-night too; so I waited to advise
you to camp here.”

“There it comes!” cried Dick Prince. “Jump out on
the ice, lads, and unload as fast as you can.”

As Dick spoke he sprang on to a field of ice which
was attached to the shore, and drawing the cance along-
side, began hastily to remove the cargo. His example
was instantly followed by the men, who sprang over
the gunwales like cats; and in less than five minutes
the cargoes were scattered over the ice. Meanwhile, the
breeze which Massan had observed continued to freshen,
and the seaward ice bore rapidly down on the shore,
gradually narrowing and filling up the lanes of water
among which the travellers had been hitherto wending
56 UNGAVA.

their way. Dick Prince’s sudden action was caused by
his observing a large solid field, which bore down on
them with considerable rapidity. His warning was just
in time, for the goods were scarcely landed and the three
canoes lifted out of the water, when the ice closed in
with a crash that would have ground the frail barks to
pieces, and the passage was closed up. So completely
was every trace of water obliterated, that it seemed as
though there never had been any there before.
CHAPTER VII

Shows how the party made themselves at home in the bush—Talk round the
camp fire—A flash of temper—Turning in.

HE spot where they were thus suddenly arrested

in their progress was a small bay, formed by a

low point which jutted from the mainland, and shut out
the prospect in advance. There was little or no wood
on the point, except a few stunted willows, which being
green and small would not, as La Roche the cook re-
marked, “make a fire big enough to roast the wing of
a mosquito.” There was no help for it, however. The
spot on which Massan had resolved to encamp for the
night was three miles on the other side of the point,
and as the way was now solid ice instead of water,
there was no possibility of getting there until a change
of wind should drive the ice off the shore. Moreover,
it was now getting dark, and it behoved them to make
their preparations with as much speed as possible. Ac-
cordingly, Massan and Prince shouldered one canoe,
Francois and Gaspard carried the other, and the light
one was placed on the shoulders of Bryan the black-
smith ; La Roche took the provision-basket and cooking
utensils under his special charge ; while the three Esqui-
mau interpreters and the two Indian guides busied
themselves in carrying the miscellaneous goods and
baggage into camp. As for Chimo, he seated himself
58 UNGAVA.

quietly on a lump of ice, and appeared to superin-
tend the entire proceedings; while his young mistress
and her mother, accompanied by Frank and Stanley,
crossed the ice to the shore, to select a place for their
encampment.

But it was some time ere a suitable place could be
found, as the point happened to be low and swampy,
and poor Eda’s first experience of a life in the woods
was stepping into a hole which took her up to the knees
in mud and water. She was not alone, however, in
misfortune, for just at the same moment Bryan passed
through the bushes with his canoe, and staggered into
the same swamp, exclaiming as he did so, in a rich
brogue which many years’ residence among the French
half-breeds of Rupert's Land had failed to soften,
“Thunder an’ turf! such a blackguard counthry I niver
did see. Och, Bryan dear, why did ye iver lave yer
native land ?”

“Pourquoi, why, mon boy? for ver’ goot raison,”
eried La Roche, in a horrible compound of French and
broken English, as he skipped lightly past, with a loud
laugh, “for ver’ goot raison—dey was tired of you to
home, vraiment. You was too grande raskale; dey
could not keep you no longer.”

“Thrue for ye,,La Roche,” replied the blacksmith,
“thrue for ye, boy; they sartinly could not keep me on
nothin’, an’ as the murphies was all sp’iled wi’ the rot,
I had to lave or starve.”

At last, after a long search, Frank Morton found a
spot pretty well adapted for their purpose. It was an
elevated plot of gravel, which was covered with a thin
carpet of herbage, and surrounded by a belt of willows,
which proved a sufficient shelter against the wind. A
low and rather shaggy willow-tree spread its branches
UNGAVA. 59

over the spot, and gave to it a good deal of the feeling
and appearance of shelter, if not much of the reality.
This was of little consequence, however, as the night
proved fine and comparatively mild, so that the black
vault of heaven, spangled with hosts of brilliant stars,
amply compensated for the want of a leafy canopy.

Under the willow-tree, Frank and La Roche busied
themselves in spreading a very small white tent for
Mr. Stanley and his family. Frank himself, although
entitled from his position in the Company’s service to
the luxury of a tent, scorned to use one, preferring to
rough it like the men, and sleep beneath the shelter of
the small canoe. Meanwhile, Mr. Stanley proceeded to
strike a light with his flint and steel, and Bryan, having
deposited his burden near the tent, soon collected a
sufficiency of drift-wood to make a good fire. Edith and
her mother were not idle in the midst of this busy scene.
They collected a few bundles of dried twigs to make
the fire light more easily, and after the blaze was casting
its broad glare of light over the camp, and the tent was
pitched, they assisted La Roche in laying the cloth for
supper. Of course, in a journey like this, none but neces-
sary articles were taken, and these were of the most
homely character. The kettle was the tea-pot, the cups
were tin pannikins, and the table-cloth was a large
towel, while the table itself was the eround, from the
damp of which, however, the party in the tent were
protected by an ample oil-cloth.

When all the things were carried up, and the men
assembled, the camp presented the following appearance :
in the centre of the open space, which nature had ar-
ranged in the form of a circle, blazed the fire; and a
right jovial, sputtering, outrageous fire it was, sending
its sparks flying in all directions, like the artillery of a
60 UNGAVA.

beleaguered fortress in miniature, and rolling its flames
about in fierce and wayward tongues, that seemed bent
on licking in and swallowing up the entire party, but
more especially La Roche, who found no little difficulty
in paying due attention to his pots and kettles. Some-
times the flames roared fiercely upwards, singeing off
the foliage of the overhanging willow as they went, and
then, bursting away from their parent fire, portions of
them floated off for a few seconds on the night air.
On the weather side of this fire stood Mr. Stanley’s
tent, under the willow-tree, as before described, its pure
white folds showing strongly against the darkness of
the sky beyond. The doorway, or curtain of the tent,
was open, displaying the tea-equipage within, and the
smiling countenances of Stanley and his wife, Frank
and Eda, who, seated on blankets and shawls around
the towel, were preparing to make an assault on the
fat duck before mentioned. This duck had been split
open and roasted on a piece of stick before the blaze,
and now stood with the stumps of its wings and legs
extended, as if demanding urgently to be eaten—a de-
mand which Chimo, who crouched near the doorway,
could scarce help complying with.

To the right of the tent was placed the small canoe,
bottom up, so as to afford a partial protection to the
bedding which Oostesimow was engaged in spreading
out for Frank and himself and his comrade Ma-istequan.
Facing this, at the other side of the fire, and on the left
of the tent, the largest canoe was turned up in a similar
manner, and several of the men were engaged in cover-
ing the ground beneath it with a layer of leaves and
branches, above which they spread their blankets ; while
others lounged around the fire and smoked their beloved
pipes, or watched with impatient eyes the operations of
UNGAVA. 61

Bryan, who, being accustomed to have familiar dealings
with the fire, had been deemed worthy of holding the
office of cook to the men, and was inducted accordingly.

It is due to Bryan to say that he fully merited the
honour conferred upon him; for never, since the days
of Vulcan, was there a man seen who could daringly
dabble in the fire as he did. He had a peculiar sleight-
of-hand way of seizing hold of and tossing about red-
hot coals with his naked hand, that induced one to be-

lieve he must be made of leather. Flames seemed to
have no effect whatever on his sinewy arms when they
licked around them; and as for smoke, he treated it
with benign contempt. Not so La Roche: with the
mercurial temperament of his class he leaped about the
fire, during his culinary operations, in a way that afforded
infinite amusement to his comrades, and not unfrequently
brought him into violent collision with Bryan, who
usually received him on such occasions with a strong
Trish growl, mingled with a disparaging or contemptuous
remark.

Beyond the circle of light thrown by the fire was the
belt of willows which encompassed the camp on all sides
except towards the sea, where a narrow gap formed a
natural entrance and afforded a glimpse of the ocean
with its fields and hummocks of ice floating on its calm
bosom and glancing in the faint light of the moon, which
was then in its first quarter.

“How comfortable and snug everything is!” said Mrs.
Stanley, as she poured out the tea, while her husband
carved the duck.

“Yes, isn’t it, Eda?” said Frank, patting his favourite
on the head, as he held out her plate for a wing.
“There, give her a bit of the breast too,” he added. “I
know she’s ravenously hungry, for I saw her looking at
62 UNGAVA.

Chimo, just before we landed, as if she meant to eat him
for supper without waiting to have him cooked.”

“© Frank, how can you be so wicked?” said Eda,
taking up her knife and fork and attacking the wing
with so much energy as almost to justify her friend's
assertion.

“Snug, said you, Jessie? yes, that’s the very word to
express it,” said Stanley. “There's no situation that I
know of (and I wasn’t born yesterday) that is so per-
fectly snug, and in all respects comfortable, as an en-
campment in the woods on a fine night in spring or
autumn.”

“Or winter,” added Frank, swallowing a pannikin of
tea at a draught, nodding to Chimo, as much as to say,
“Do that if you can, old fellow,” and handing it to Mrs.
Stanley to be replenished. “Don’t omit winter—cold,
sharp, sunny winter. An encampment in the snow, in
fine weather, is as snug as this.”

“ Rather cold, is it not?” said Mrs. Stanley.

“Cold! not a bit,” replied Frank, making a reckless
dive with his hand into the biscuit-bag; “if you have
enough wood to get up a roaring fire, six feet long by
three broad and four deep, with a bank of snow five
feet high all around ye, a pine-tree with lots of thick
branches spreading overhead to keep off the snow, and
two big green blankets to keep out the frost—(another
leg of that widgeon, please)—you've no notion how
snug it is, I assure you.”

“Hum!” ejaculated Stanley, with a dubious smile,
“you forgot to add—a youthful, robust frame, with
the blood careering through the veins like wild-fire, to
your catalogue of requisites. No doubt it is pleasant
enough in its way; but commend me to spring or
autumn for thorough enjoyment, when the air is mild,
UNGAVA. 63

and the waters flowing, and the woods green and
beautiful.”

“Why don’t you speak of summer, papa?” said Eda,
who had been listening intently to this conversation.

“Summer, my pet! because—”

“Allow me to explain,” interrupted Frank, laying
down his knife and fork, and placing the fore-finger of
his right hand in his left palm, as if he were about to
make a speech.

“ Because, Eda, because there is such a thing as heat—
long-continued, never-ending, sweltering heat. Because
there are such reprehensible and unutterably detestable
insects as mosquitoes, and sand-flies, and bull-dogs;
and there is such a thing as being bitten, and stung,
and worried, and sucked into a sort of partial madness ;
and I have seen such sights as men perpetually slapping
their own faces, and scratching the skin off their own
cheeks with their own nails, and getting no relief thereby,
but rather making things worse; and I have, moreover,
seen men’s heads swelled until the eyes and noses were
lost, and the mouths only visible when opened, and their
general aspect like that of a Scotch haggis; and there
is a time when all this accumulates on man and beast
till the latter takes to the water in desperation, and
the former takes to intermittent insanity, and that time
is—swmmer.—Another cup, please, Mrs. Stanley. ’Pon
my conscience it creates thirst to think of it.”

At this stage the conversation of the party in the
tent was interrupted by a loud peal of laughter mingled
with not a few angry exclamations from the men. La
Roche, in one of his frantic leaps to avoid a tongue of
flame which shot out from the fire with a vicious velocity
towards his eyes, came into violent contact with Bryan
while that worthy was in the act of lifting a seething-
64 UNGAVA.

kettle of soup and boiled pork from the fire. Fortu-
nately for the party whose supper was thus placed in
jeopardy, Bryan stood his ground; but La Roche, trip-
ping over a log, fell heavily among the pannikins, tin
plates, spoons, and knives, which had been just laid out
on the ground in front of the canoe.

“ Ach! mauvais chien,” growled Gaspard, as he picked
up and threw away the fragments of his pipe, “you're
always cuttin’ and jumpin’ about like a monkey.”

“Oh! pauvre crapaud,” cried Frangois, laughing ;
“don’t abuse him, Gaspard. He’s a useful dog in his
way.”

“Tare an’ ages! you've done it now, ye have. Bad
luck to ye! wasn’t I for iver tellin’ ye that same.
Shure, if it wasn’t that ye’re no bigger or heavier than
a wisp o pea straw, ye’d have cee me and the soup
into the fire, ye would. Be the big toe o’ St. Patrick,
not to mintion his riverince the Pope—”

“Come, come, Bryan,” cried Massan, “don’t speak ill
o’ the Pope, an’ down wi’ the ketitle.”

“The kittle, is it? Sorra a kittle yell touch, Massan,
till it’s cool enough to let us all start fair at wance.
Ye’ve got yer mouth and throat lined wi’ brass, I
believe, an’ would ate the half o’'t before a soul of us
could taste it!”

“Don’t insult me, you red-faced racoon,’ retorted
Massan, while he and his comrades circled round the
kettle, and began a vigorous attack on the scalding
mess; “my throat is not so used to swallowin’ fire as
your own. I never knowed a man that payed into the
grub as you do. Bah! how hot it is—I say, Oolibuck,
doesn’t it remember you o’ the dogs o’ yer own country,
when they gits the stone kettle to clean out?”

Oolibuck’s broad visage expanded with a chuckle as
UNGAVA. 65

he lifted an enormous wooden spoonful of soup to his
ample mouth. “Me tink de dogs of de Innuit * make
short work of dis kettle if ’e had ‘im.”

“Do the dogs of the Huskies eat with their masters ?”
inquired Frangois, as he groped in the kettle with his
fork in search of a piece of pork.

“Dey not eat wid der masters, but dey al’ays clean
hout de kettle,” replied Moses, somewhat indignantly.

“Ha!” exclaimed Massan, pausing for a few minutes
to recover breath ; “yes, they always let the dogs finish
off the feast. Ye must know, comrades, that I’ve seed
them do it myself—anyways, I’ve seed a man that knew
@ feller who said he had a comrade that wintered once
with the Huskies, which is pretty much the same thing.
An’ he said that sometimes when they kill a big seal,
they boil it whole an’ have a rig’lar feast. Ye must
understand, mes gargons, that the Huskies make thumpin’
big kittles out o’ a kind o’ soft stone they find in them
parts, an’ some o’ them’s big enough to boil a whole seal
in. Well, when the beast is cooked, they take it out 0’
the pot, an’ while they're tuckin’ into it, the dogs come
and sit in a ring round the pot to wait till the soup’s
cool enough to eat. They knows well that it’s too hot
at first, an’ that they must have a deal o’ patience; but
afore long some o’ the young uns can’t hold on, so they
steps up somewhat desperate like, and pokes their snouts
in, Of course they pulls them out pretty sharp with a
yell, and sit down to rub their noses for a bit longer.
Then the old uns take courage an’ make a snap at it
now and again, but very tenderly, till it gits cooler at
last, an’ then at it they go, worryin’, an’ scufflin’, an’
barkin’, an’ gallopin’, just like Moses there, till the pot’s
as clean as the day it wos made.”

* Tisquimaux.

5
66 UNGAVA.

“Hal ha! oh, ver’ goot, tres bien; ah! mon cceur,
just tres splendiferous!” shouted La Roche, whose risi-
bility was always easily tickled.

« Ti’s quite true, though—isn’t it, Moses ?” said Massan,
as he once more applied to the kettle, while some of his
comrades cut up the goose that Frank had shot in the ~
afternoon.

“Why, Moses, what a capacity you have for grub!”
said Francois. “If your countrymen are anything like
you, I don’t wonder that they have boiled seals and
whales for dinner.”

“I¢ll take a screamin’ kittle for a whale,” spluttered
Bryan, with his mouth full, “an’ a power o’ dogs to
drink the broth.”

“You tink you funny, Bryan,” retorted Moses, while
an. oily smile beamed on his fat, good-humoured counte-
nance; “but you not; you most dreadful stupid.”

“Thrue for ye, Moses; I was oncommon stupid to let
you sit so long beside the kittle,” replied the Irishman,
as he made a futile effort to scrape another spoonful
from the bottom of it. “Och! but ye’ve licked it as
clane as one of yer own dogs could ha’ done it.”

“Mind your eye!” growled Gaspard, at the same time
giving La Roche a violent push, as that volatile worthy,
in one of his eccentric movements, nearly upset his can
of waiter.

“Oh! pardon, monsieur,” exclaimed La Roche, in pre-
tended sorrow, at the same time making a grotesque bow
that caused a general peal of laughter.

“Why, one might as well travel with a sick bear as
with you, Gaspard,” said Frangois half angrily.

“Hold your jaw,” replied Gaspard.

“Not at your bidding,” retorted Frangois, half rising
from his reclining posture, while his colour heightened.
UNGAVA. 67

Gaspard had also started up, and it seemed as if the
little camp were in danger of becoming a scene of
strife, when Dick Prince, who was habitually silent and
unobtrusive, preferring generally to listen rather than to
speak, laid his hand on Gaspard’s broad shoulder and
pulled him somewhat forcibly to the ground.

“Shame on you, comrades!” he said, in a low, grave
voice, that instantly produced a dead silence; “shame
on you, to quarrel on our first night in the bush! We've
few enough friends in these parts, I think, that we
should make enemies o’ each other.”

“That's well said,’ cried Massan, in a very decided
tone. “It won’t do to fall out when there’s so few of
us.” And the stout voyageur thrust his foot against
the logs on the fire, causing a rich cloud of sparks to
ascend, as if to throw additional light on his remark.

“Pardon me, mes comrades,” cried Francois; “I did
not intend to quarrel;” and he extended his hand to
Gaspard, who took it in silence, and dropping back
again to his recumbent posture, resumed his pipe.

This little scene was witnessed by the party in the
tent, who were near enough to overhear all that was
said by the men, and even to converse with them if
they should desire to do so. A shade of anxiety crossed
Mr. Stanley’s countenance, and some time after, recur-
ring to the subject, he said,—

“I don’t feel quite easy about that fellow Gaspard.
He seems a sulky dog, and is such a Hercules that he
might give us a deal of trouble if he were high-spirited.”

A slight smile of contempt curled Frank’s lip as he
said, “ A strong arm without a bold heart is not of more
value than that of my Eda here in the hour of danger.
But I think better of Gaspard than you seem to do.
He’s a sulky enough dog, ’tis true; but he is a good hard
68 UNGAVA.

worker, and does not grumble; and I sometimes have
noticed traces of a better spirit than usually meets the
eye. As for his bulk, I think nothing of it; he wants
high spirit to make it available. Francois could thrash
him any day.”

“Perhaps so,” replied Stanley; “I hope they won’t
try their mettle on each other sooner than we expect.
Not that I care a whit for any of the men having a
round or two now and then and be done with it; but
this fellow seems to ‘nurse his wrath to keep it warm.’
On such an expedition as ours, it behoves us to have a
good understanding and a kindly feeling in the camp.
One black sheep in the flock may do much damage.”

“He's only piebald, not black,” said Frank laughing,
as he rose to quit the tent. “But I must leave you. I
see that Hda’s eyes are refusing to keep open any longer,
so good-night to you all, and a sound sleep.”

Frank’s concluding remarks in reference to him were
overheard by Gaspard, who had risen to look at the night,
and afterwards kneeled near the tent, in order to be at
some distance from his comrades while he said his
prayers ; for, strange though it may seem, many of the
rough and reckless voyageurs of that country, most of
whom are Roman Catholics, regularly retire each night
to kneel and pray beneath a tree before lying down on
their leafy couches, and deem the act quite consistent
with the swearing and quarrelling life that too many of
them lead. Such is human nature! As Gaspard rose
from his knees Frank’s words fell upon his ear, and
when he drew his blanket over his head that night,
there was a softer spot in his heart and a wrinkle less
on his brow.

When Frank stepped over to the place where his canoe
lay, the aspect of the camp was very different from
UNGAVA. 69

what it had been an hour before. The fire had burned
low, and was little more than a mass of glowing embers,
from which a fitful flame shot forth now and then, casting
a momentary glare on the forms of the men, who, having
finished their pipes, were all extended in a row, side by
side, under the large canoe. As they possessed only a
single green blanket each, they had to make the most
of their coverings, by rolling them tightly around their
bodies, and doubling the ends down under their feet
and over their heads; so that they resembled a row of
green bolsters, all their feet being presented towards the
fire, and all their heads resting on their folded capotes.
A good deal of loud and regular snoring proved that
toil and robust health seldom court the drowsy god
long in vain. Turning to his own canoe, Frank ob-
served that his Indian friends were extended out under
it, with a wide space between them, in which his own
bedding was neatly arranged. The grave sons of the
forest had lain down to rest long before their white
comrades, and they now lay as silent and motionless as
the canoe that covered their heads. Being a small
canoe, it did not afford protection to their legs and feet ;
but in fine weather this was of no consequence, and for
the morrow they cared not.

Before lying down Frank kneeled to commend him-
self and his comrades to the protection of God; then
stirring up the embers of the fire, he pulled out a small
Bible from his breast pocket and sat down on a log to
read. Frank was a careless, rollicking, kind-hearted
fellow, and how much there was of true religion in
these acts none but himself could tell. But the habit of
reading the Word, and of prayer, had been instilled into
him from infancy by a godly mother, and he carried it
with him into the wilderness.
70 UNGAVA.

When he drew his blanket over him and laid his
head on his capote the stars were still twinkling, and the
moon still sailed in a clear sky and gave silver edges to
the ice upon the sea. All was calm and solemn and
beautiful, and it seemed as if it could never be other-
wise in such a tranquil scene. But nature does not
always smile. Appearances are often deceitful.
CHAPTER VIII.

Bryan’s adventure with a polar bear, ete.

CE, ice, ice! everything seemed to have been con-
verted into ice when the day broke on the follow-
ing morning and awoke the sleepers in the camp. A
sharp frost during the night, accompanied by a fall of
snow, had, as if by magic, converted spring into winter.
Icy particles hung upon and covered, not only the young
leaves and buds of the bushes, but the branches also,
giving to them a white and extremely airy appearance.
Snow lay on the upper sides of the canoes, and weighed
heavily on the tent, causing its folds, once seemingly so
pure and white, to look dirty by contrast. Snow lay
on the protruding legs of the men, and encircled the
black spot where rested the ashes of last night's brilliant
fire. Ice grated on the pebbles of the shore ; ice floated
on the sea; icy hummocks and mounds rose above its
surface ; and icebergs raised their pinnacles on the far-
off horizon, and cut sharply into the bright blue sky.

It was cold, but it was not cheerless ; for when Eda put
out her head at the curtain doorway of the tent, and
opened her eyes upon the magic scene, the sun’s edge
rose above the horizon, as if to greet her, and sent a
flood of light far and near through the spacious universe,
converting the sea into glass, with islands of frosted
silver on its bosom. ‘It was a gorgeous scene, worthy of
72 UNGAVA.

its great Creator, who in his mysterious working scatters
gems of beauty oftentimes in places where there is scarce
a single human eye to behold their excellence.

Although the sea was covered with ice, there were,
nevertheless, several lanes of open water not far from
the shore; so that when Stanley called a council, com-
posed of Frank Morton, Dick Prince, and Massan, it was
agreed unanimously that they should attempt to proceed.
And it was well that they did so; for they had not
advanced many miles, winding their way cautiously
among the canals of open water, when they doubled a
promontory, beyond which there was little or no ice to
be seen, merely a few scattered fragments and fields,
that served to enhance the beauty of the scene by the
airy lightness of their appearance in contrast with the
bright blue of the sea and sky, but did not interrupt the
progress of the travellers. The three canoes always
maintained their relative positions during the journey as
much as possible. That is to say, Frank and the two
Indians went first in the small canoe, to lead the way,
while the two large canoes kept abreast of each other
when the open water was wide enough to permit of
their doing so. This, besides being more sociable,
enabled the two crews to join in the chorus of those
beautiful songs with which they frequently enlivened
the voyage.

During all this day, and for many days following,
they continued to enjoy fine weather and to make rapid
progress. Sometimes the ice was pretty thick, and once
or twice they narrowly escaped being nipped by col-
lapsing masses, which caused them to jump out, hastily
throw the baggage on the ice, and haul the canoes out
of the water. On these occasions the men proved them-
selves to be sterling fellows, nearly all of them being
UNGAVA. 73

cool, prompt, and collected in the moment of danger.
No doubt there were exceptions. La Roche, when any
sudden crisis of danger arose, usually threw himself
blindly over the side of the canoe on to the ice with the
lightness and agility of a harlequin. He recked not
whether he came down on his head or his feet, and more
than once nearly broke his neck in consequence of his
precipitancy. But La Roche was no coward, and the
instant the first burst of excitement was over he rushed
to render effective assistance. Bryan, too, although not
so mercurial as La Roche, was apt to lose self-command
for about five minutes when any sudden danger assailed
him, so that he frequently sat still, staring wildly straight
before him, while the others were actively unloading the
canoes; and once, when the danger was more critical
than usual, having sat till the canoe was empty, and
paid no attention to a prompt gruff order to jump ashore,
he had been seized by the strong arms of Gaspard and
tossed out of the canoe like a puppy dog. On these
occasions he invariably endeavoured to make up for his
fault by displaying, on recovery, the most outrageous
and daring amount of unnecessary recklessness,—utter-
ing, at the same time, an amazing number of strange
expressions, among which “Tare an’ ages!” “Och!
murder!” and several others less lucid in signification,
predominated. Chimo was always first ashore, and in-
stantly wheeled round to greet Eda, who was also always
second, thanks to the strong and prompt arm of Frangois,
who sat just in front, and by tacit agreement took her
under his special charge. As for Mrs. Stanley, the arm
that was rightfully her own, and had been her shield in
many a scene of danger, proved ever ready and able to
Succour the “first volunteer” to Ungava.

At times the sea was quite free of ice, and many miles
74, UNGAVA.

were soon added to the space which separated the little
band of adventurers from the rest of the human world.
Their encampments varied according to the nature of the
coast, being sometimes among pine-trees, or surrounded
by dwarf willows; at other times on the bare sand of
the sea-shore ; and occasionally at the extremity of long-
projecting capes and promontories, where they had to
pitch their tent and make their beds in the clefts of the
solid rock. But wherever they laid them down to rest—
on the rock, or on the sand, or within the shade of the
forest—it was always found, as Mrs. Stanley remarked of
the first night’s encampment, that they were extremely
comfortable and eminently snug.

They were successful, too, in procuring an ample
supply of fresh provisions. There were ducks and geese
of various kinds, and innumerable quantities of plover,
cormorants, gulls, and eider-ducks, the eggs of which
they found in thousands. Many of these birds were
good for food, and the eggs of most of them, especially
those of the eider-duck, were excellent. Reindeer were
also met with; and, among other trophies of his skill as
a hunter, Frank one day brought in a black bear, parts
of which were eaten with great gusto by the Esquimaux
and Indians, to the immense disgust of Bryan, who ex-
pressed his belief that the “haythens was barely fit to
live,” and were most justly locked out from society in
“thim dissolate polar raygeons.” There were many seals,
also, in the sea, which put up their ugly, grotesque heads
ever and anon, gazed at the canoes with their huge fishy
eyes, as if in surprise at the sight of such novel marine
monsters, and then sank slowly beneath the wave.
These animals were never molested, out of respect to the
feelings of the two Indians, who believed them to be
gods, and assured Stanley that the destruction of one
UNGAVA. 75

would infallibly bring down ill-luck and disaster on the
heads of the party. Stanley smiled inwardly at this,
but gave orders that no seals should be shot—an order
which all were very willing to obey, as they did not re-
quire the animals either for food or any other purpose.
Several white polar bears were seen, but they also were
spared, as they require a great deal of shot to kill them,
if not hit exactly behind the ear; and besides, neither
their bodies nor skins were of any use to the travellers.

Thus all went favourably for a time. But life is a
chequered story, and the sun of prosperity does not
always shine, as we shall see.

One fine morning, as they were paddling cheerfully
along in the neighbourhood of Cape Jones, it struck Mr.
Stanley that he might prove the correctness of his sextant
and other instruments before entering upon the country
which to most of the party was terra incognita. This
was the more necessary that he could not depend on the
guidance of Oostesimow and Ma-istequan, they having
travelled only once, long ago, through part of the country,
while the latter part of it was totally unknown to them.
It was one of those beautiful mornings that are peculiar
to arctic regions, when the air is inexpressibly still, and
all inanimate nature seems hushed in profound repose—
a repose which is rather rendered more effective than
otherwise by the plaintive cries of wild-fowl or the oc-
casional puffing of a whale. There was a peculiar brill-
iancy, too, in the atmosphere, caused by the presence of
so many fields and hummocks of white ice, looming
fantastically through a thin, dry, gauze-like haze, which,
while it did not dim the brightness of the solar rays,
lent an additional charm to every object by shrouding
it in a veil of mystery.

On passing the point the men ceased rowing, and pro-
76 UNGAVA.

ceeded to solace themselves with a five-minutes’ pipe—
an indulgence which voyageurs always claim as their due
after a long spell at the oars or paddles.

“Put ashore here, Massan,” said Stanley, turning to
the guide; “I shall take an observation, if possible, and
you can set the men to hunt for eggs. We shall want
them, as the larder is rather low just now.”

Massan muttered assent, and, shouting to the other
canoe to put ashore, ran alongside the rocks.

“You'd better hail the little canoe,” said Stanley, as
he landed. “TI shall want Mr. Morton to assist me.”

Massan stepped upon an elevated rock, and, shading
his eyes with his hands, looked earnestly ahead where he
observed the little canoe almost beyond vision, and just
going to double a point of land. Transferring his hands
to his mouth, he used them as a trumpet, and gave forth
a shout the like of which had never startled the echoes
of the place before.

“Tt’s no use, sir,” said Massan; “he’s past hearin’.
I’m afeerd that they’re off in the direction o’ the White
Bear Hills, in hopes o’ gittin’ a shot.”

“Try again, Massan,” urged Stanley ; “raise your pipe
a little higher. Perhaps it will reach them.”

Massan shook his head. “Try it, Bryan,’ he said,
turning to the Irishman, who was sitting on a rock
leisurely filling his short black pipe.

“Ts it to halloo ye want me?” replied Bryan, rising.
“Shure the great gun of Athlone itself could niver hold
a candle to ye, Massan, at yellin’; but Ill try, anyhow ;”
and putting his hands to his mouth he gave forth a roar
compared to which Massan’s was nothing. There was a
sort of crack in the tone of it, however, that was so
irresistibly ridiculous that the whole party burst incon-
tinently into a fit of laughter. Loud though it was, it
UNGAVA. 17

failed to reach the ears of those in the little canoe, which
in a few seconds doubled the point and disappeared.

“Ah, bad luck to it!” said Bryan, in disgust; “the
pipe’s damaged intirely. Small pace to ye, Bob Mahone;
for shure it was howlin’ and screechin’ at your wake like
a born scrandighowl that broke it.”

“Never mind, lad; what remains of it is not bad,”
said Stanley, laughing, as he proceeded to open the box
containing his scientific instruments.

Meanwhile his wife and Edith wandered along the
rocks picking up shells and pebbles; and the men
dispersed, some to smoke and chat, others to search for
egos. Bryan and La Roche, who were both aspiring
geniuses, and had formed a sort of rough attachment to
each other, asked permission to take a walk to the point
ahead, where they would wait for the canoes. Having
obtained it, they set off at a good round pace, that would
have been “throublesome to kape up,” as Bryan re-
marked, “with payse in yer shoes!”

“Why you come for to jine de company ?” inquired
La Roche, as they jogged along.

“Why? bekase I’d nothin’ else to do, as the ould
song says. Ye see, Losh” (Bryan had invented a con-
traction for his friend’s name, which he said was “ con-
vanient ”)—“ ye see, Losh, there may be more nor wan
raison for a gintleman lavin’ his native land in order to
thravel in furrin parts. It’s thrue I had nothin’ in the
univarse to do, for I could niver git work nohow, an’
whin I got it I could niver kape it. I niver could
onderstan’ why, but so it was. Nivertheless I managed
to live well enough in the ould cabin wid the murphies—”

“Vat is murphies ?” inquired La Roche.

“Bliss yer innocent face, don’t ye know it’s praties ?”

“Tis vat ?”
78 UNGAVA.

“ Praties, boy, or pit-taties, if I must be partic’lar.”

“Ah! goot, goot, I understan’—pettitoes. Oui, oui, ve
call him ponume de terre.”

“Hum! well, as I was sayin’, I got on pretty well
wid the pumdeterres an’ the pig, but the pig died wan
day—choked hisself on a murphy—that is, a pumble-
terre; an’ more betoken, it was the last murphy in the
house, a powerful big wan that my grandmother had
put by for supper. After this ivery thin’ wint to
smithereens. The rot came, and I thought I should
have to list for a sodger. Well, Bob Mahone died o’
dhrvink and starvation, an’ we had a beautiful wake ;
but there was a rig’lar shindy got up, an’ two or three
o’ the county p’lice misbehaved themselves, so I jist
floored them all, wan after the other, an’ bolted. Well,
I wint straight to Dublin, an’ there I met wid an ould
friend who was the skipper o’ a ship bound for New
York. Says ‘he, ‘Bryan, will ye go?’ Says I, ‘Av
coorse;’ an’ shure enough I wint, an’ got over the say
to Meriky. But I could niver settle down, so, wan way
or another, I came at last to Montreal and jined the
Company; an’ afther knockin’ about in the Columbia
and Mackenzie's River for some years, I was sint to ,
Moose, an’ here I am, Losh, yer sarvant to command.”

“Goot, ver’ goot, mais peculiaire,” said La Roche,
whose intimacy with this son of Erin had enabled him
to comprehend enough of his jargon to grasp the general
scope of his discourse.

“ Ay ye mane that lavin’ the ould country was goot,”
said Bryan, stooping to pick up a stone and skim it
along the smooth surface of the sea, “p’raps ye’re right ;
but there’s wan thing I niver could make my mind aisy
about,” and the blacksmith’s voice became deep and his
face grave as he recalled these bygone days.
UNGAVA. 79

“Vat were dat?” inquired La Roche.

“Why, ye see, Losh, I was so hard druve by the
plice that I was forced to lave wid-out sayin’ good day
to my ould mother, an’ they tould me it almost broke
her heart; but I’ve had wan or two screeds from the
priest wid her cross at them since, and she’s got over it,
an’ lookin’ out for my returnin’—bliss her sowl !—an’
I’ve sint her five pounds ivery year since I left: so ye
see, Losh, I’ve great hope o’ seein’ her yit, for although
she’s ould she’s oncommon tough, an’ having come o’ a
long-winded stock, I’ve great hopes of her.”

Poor Bryan! it never entered into his reckless brain
to think that, considering the life of almost constant
peril he led in the land of his pilgrimage, there was more
hope of the longevity of his old mother than of himself.
Like many of his countrymen, he was a man of strong,
passionate, warm feelings, and remarkably unselfish.

“Ts your contry resemblance to dat?” inquired La
Roche, pointing, as he spoke, towards the sea, which was
covered with fields and mountains of ice as far out as
the eye could discern.

“ Be the nose o’ my great-grandmother (an’ that was be
no manes a short wan) no!” replied Bryan, with a laugh.
“The say that surrounds ould Ireland is niver covered
with sich sugar-plums as these. But what have we here?”

As he spoke they reached the point at which they
were to await the coming up of the canoes, and the
object which called forth Bryan’s remark was the little
canoe, which lay empty on the beach just beyond the
point. From the manner in which it lay it was evident
that Frank and his Indians had placed it there ; but there
was no sign of their presence save one or two footprints
on the sand. While La Roche was examining these, his
companion walked towards a point of rock that jutted
80 UNGAVA.

out from the cliffs and intercepted the view beyond. On
turning round this, he became suddenly rooted to the
spot with horror. And little wonder, for just two yards
before him stood an enormous polar bear, whose career
was suddenly arrested by Bryan’s unexpected appearance.
Ji is difficult to say whether the man or the beast ex-
pressed most surprise at the rencounter. They both
stood stock still, and opened their eyes to the utmost
width. But the poor Irishman was evidently petrified
by the apparition. He turned deadly pale, and his
hands hung idly by his sides; while the bear, recovering
from his surprise, rose on his hind legs and walked up
to him—a sure sign that he was quite undaunted, and
had made up his mind to give battle. As for La Roche,
the instant he cast his eyes on the ferocious-looking
quadruped, he uttered a frightful yell, bounded towards
a neighbouring tree, and ceased not to ascend until its
topmost branches were bending beneath his weight.
Meanwhile the bear walked up to Bryan, but not
meeting with the anticipated grapple of an enemy, and
feeling somewhat uneasy under the cataleptic stare of
the poor man’s eyes—for he still stood petrified with
horror—it walked slowly round him, putting its cold
nose on his cheek, as if to tempt him to move. But the
five minutes of bewilderment that always preceded
Bryan’s recovery from a sudden fright had not yet
expired. He still remained perfectly motionless, so that
the bear, disdaining, apparently, to attack an unresisting
foe, dropped on his fore legs again. It is difficult to
say whether there is any truth in the well-known
opinion that the calm, steady gaze of a human eye can
quell any animal. Doubtless there are many stories,
more or less authentic, corroborative of the fact; but
whether this be true or not, we are ready to vouch for
UNGAVA. 8l

the truth of this fact—namely, that under the influence
of the blacksmith’s gaze, or his silence it may be, the
bear was absolutely discomfited. It retreated a step or
two, and walked slowly away, looking over its shoulder ,
now and then as it went, as if it half anticipated an on-
slaught in the rear.

We have already said that Bryan was no craven, and
that when his faculties were collected he usually dis-
played a good deal of reckless valour on occasions of
danger. Accordingly, no sooner did he see his shaggy
adversary in full retreat, than the truant blood re-
turned to his face with a degree of violence that caused
it to blaze with fiery red, and swelled the large veins
of his neck and forehead almost to bursting. Uttering
a truly Irish halloo, he bounded forward like a tiger,
tore the cap off his head and flung it violently before
him, drew the axe which always hung at his belt, and
in another moment stood face to face with the white
monster, which had instantly accepted the challenge,
and rose on its hind legs to receive him. Raising the
axe with both hands, the man aimed a blow at the bear’s
head; but with a rapid movement of its paw it turned
the weapon aside and dashed it into the air. Another
such blow, and the reckless blacksmith’s career would
have been brought to an abrupt conclusion, when the
crack of a rifle was heard. Its echo reverberated along
the cliffs and floated over the calm water as the polar
bear fell dead at Bryan’s feet.

“Hurrah!” shouted Frank Morton, as he sprang
from the bushes, knife in hand, ready to finish the
work which his rifle had so well begun. But it
needed not. Frank had hit the exact spot behind
the ear which renders a second ball unnecessary—the
bear was already quite dead.

6
CHAPTER IX.

A storm brewing—Ié bursts, and produces consequences—The party take to the
water per force—All saved.

“A H, Bryan! ‘a friend in need is a friend indeed, ”

said Frank, as he sat on a rock watching the
blacksmith and his two Indians while they performed
the operation of skinning the bear, whose timely de-
struction has been related in the last chapter. “I must
say I never saw a man stand his ground so well, with a
brute like that stealing kisses from his cheek. Were
they sweet, Bryan? Did they remind you of the fair
maid of Derry, hey ?”

“Ah! thrue for ye,” replied the blacksmith, as he
stepped to a rock for the purpose of whetting his knife ;
“yer honor was just in time to save me a power 0
throuble. Bad skran to the baste! it would have taken
three or four rounds at laste to have finished him nately
off, for there’s no end o’ fat on his ribs that would have
kep’ the knife from goin’ far in.”

Frank laughed at this free-and-easy way of looking
at it. “So you think you would have killed him, do
you, if I had not saved you the trouble ?”

“Av coorse I do. Shure a man is better than a
baste any day ; and besides, had I not a frind at my
back ridy to help me?” Bryan cast a comical leer at
La Roche as he said this, and the poor Frenchman
blushed, for he felt that his conduct in the affair had

a
UNGAVA. 83

not been very praiseworthy. It is due to La Roche to
say, however, that no sooner had he found himself at
the top of the tree, and had a moment to reflect, than
he slid rapidly to the bottom again, and ran to the
assistance of his friend, not, however, in time to render
such assistance available, as he came up just at the
moment the bear fell.

In half-an-hour afterwards the two large canoes came
up, and Bryan and his little friend had to undergo a
rapid fire of witticism from their surprised and highly-
amused comrades. Even Moses was stirred up to say
that “Bryan, him do pratty well: he most good ’nuff to
make an Eskimo !”

Having embarked the skin of the bear, the canoes
once more resumed their usual order and continued on
their way. The carcass of the bear being useless for
food, was left for the wolves; and the claws, which
were nearly as large as a man’s finger, were given by
Frank to the blacksmith, that he might make them
into a necklace, as the Indians do, and keep it in re-
membrance of his rencounter.

But the weather was now beginning to change. Dick
Prince, whose black eye was ever roving about observ-
antly, told Massan that a storm was brewing, and that
the sooner he put ashore in a convenient spot the better.
But Stanley was anxious to get on, having a long
journey before him, at the termination of which there
would be little enough time to erect a sufficient protec-
tion against the winter of the north; so he continued to
advance along shore until they came to a point beyond
which there was a very deep bay that would take them
many hours to coast. By making a traverse, however,
in a direct line to the next point, they might cross it in
a much shorter time.
84 UNGAVA.

“ How say you, Prince? shall we cross?” asked Stan-
ley, as they rested on their paddles and cast furtive
glances up at the dark clouds and across the still quiet
bay.

Prince shook his head. “I fear we won't have time
to cross. The clouds are driving too fast and growin’
black.”

“Well, then, we had better encamp,” said Stanley.
—‘Ts there a proper place, Massan, hereabouts ?”

“No, sir,” replied the guide. “The stones on the
beach are the only pillows within six mile o’ us.”

“Ho! then, forward, boys, make a bold push for it,”
cried Stanley; “if it does begin to blow before we're
over, we can run back again at all events.”

In another moment the canoes swept out to sea, and
made for the point far ahead like race-horses. Although
the clouds continued to gather, the wind did not rise,
and it seemed as though they would get over easily,
when a sudden gust came off the shore—a direction
whence, from the appearance of the clouds, it had not
been expected. Rufiling the surface of the water for a
few seconds, it passed away.

“Give way, boys, give way” cried Massan, using his
large steering paddle with a degree of energy that sent
the canoe plunging forward. “We can’t go back, an’ if
the storm bursts off the shore—”

A loud peal of thunder drowned the remainder of the
sentence, and in a few seconds the wind that had been
dreaded came whistling violently off the shore and
covered the sea with foam. The waves soon began to
rise, and ere long the frail barks, which were ill cal-
culated to weather a storm, were careering over them
and shipping water at every plunge.

It now became a matter of life and death with them
UNGAVA. 85

that they should gain the point, for, deeply loaded as
they were, it was impossible that they could float long
in such a sea. It is true that a wind off the shore does
not usually raise what sailors would consider much of a
sea; but it must be remembered that, although it was
off shore, the bay which they were crossing extended
far inland, so that the gale had a wide sweep of water
to act upon before it reached them. Besides this, as has
already been explained, canoes are not like boats. Their
timbers are weak, the bark of which they are made is
thin, the gum which makes their seams tight is easily
knocked off in cold water, and, in short, they cannot face
a sea on which a boat might ride like a sea-gull. .

For a considerable time the men strained every nerve
to gain the wished-for point of land, but with so little
success that it became evident they would never reach
it. The men began to show signs of flagging, and cast
uneasy glances towards Stanley, as if they had lost all
hope of accomplishing their object, and waited for him
to suggest what they should do. Poor Mrs. Stanley sat
holding on to the gunwale with one hand and clasping
Edith round the waist with the other, as she gazed wist-
fully towards the cape ahead, which was now almost lost
to. view under the shadow of a dark cloud that rolled
towards them like a black pall laden with destruction.

“God help us!” murmured Stanley, in an undertone,
as he scanned the seaward horizon, which was covered
with leaden clouds and streaks of lurid light, beneath
which the foaming sea leaped furiously.

“Call upon Me in the time of trouble, and I will de-
liver thee,” said Mrs. Stanley, who overheard the ex-
clamation.

Stanley either heard her not or his mind was too
deeply concentrated on the critical nature of their posi-
86 UNGAVA.

tion to make any reply. As she buried her face in her
hands, Edith threw her trembling arms round her
mother and hid her face in her bosom. Even Chimo
seemed to understand their danger, for he crept closer
to the side of his young mistress and whined in a low
tone, as if in sympathy. The waves had now increased
to such a degree that it required two of the men to bail
incessantly in order to prevent their being swamped,
and as Stanley cast a hurried glance at the other canoes,
which were not far off, he observed that it was as much
as they could do to keep afloat. “Could we not run
back, Massan ?” asked Stanley, in despair.

“Unposs’ble, sir,’ replied the guide, whose voice was
almost drowned by the whistling of the wind. “We're
more nor half-way over, an’ it would only blow us farther
out to sea if we was to try.”

While the guide spoke, Stanley was gazing earnestly
in the direction of the horizon.

“Round with you, Massan,” he exclaimed suddenly ;
“put the canoe about and paddle straight out to sea.—
Hallo!” he shouted to the other canoes, “follow us out
to sea—straight out.”

The men looked aghast at this extraordinary order.
“Look alive, lads,” continued their leader; “I see an
island away there to leeward. Perhaps it’s only a rock,
but any way it’s our only chance.”

The canoes’ heads were turned round, and in another
moment they were driving swiftly before the wind in
the direction of the open sea.

“Right, right,” murmured Dick Prince, as they made
towards this new source of hope; “mayhap it’s only a
bit o’ ice, but even that’s better than nothin’.”

“If ‘tis only ice,” cried La Roche, “ve have ver’
pauvre chance at all.”
UNGAVA. 87

“Shure an’ if we are to go ashore at all, at all,” said
Bryan, whose spirits had suddenly risen with this gleam
of hope from fifty degrees below to fifty above zero—
“if we are to go ashore at all, at all, it’s better to land
on the ice than on the wather.”

With such a breeze urging them on, the three canoes
soon approached what appeared to be a low sand-bank,
on which the sea was dashing~in white foam. But
from the tossing of the waves between them and the
beach, it was difficult to form a conjecture as to its size.
Indeed, at times they could scarcely see it at all, owing
to the darkness of the day and the heavy rain which
began to fall just as they approached; and more than
once Stanley’s heart sank when he lost sight of the
bank, and he began to think that he had made a mis-
take, and that they were actually flying out to the deep
sea, in which case all hope would be gone for ever.
But God’s mercy was extended to them in this hour of
peril. The island appeared to grow larger as they
neared it,and at last they were within a stone’s-throw of
the shore. But a new danger assailed them here. The
largest canoe, which neared the island first, had begun
to leak, and took in water so fast that the utmost
efforts of those who bailed could not keep it under, and
from the quantity that was now shipped they made very
little way. To add to the horror of the scene, the sky
became very dark, and another crash of thunder pealed
forth accompanied by a blinding flash of lightning.

“Paddle, boys, paddle for your lives!” cried Stanley,
throwing off his coat, and seizing a tin dish, with which
he began to throw out the water.

The canoe rose on a huge wave which broke all round
it. This nearly filled it with water, and carried it to-
wards the shore with such velocity that it seemed as if
88 UNGAVA.

they should be dashed in pieces; but they fell back into
the trough of the sea, and lay motionless like a heavy
log, and in a sinking condition.

“ Now, lads, look out for the next wave, and give way
with a will,” cried Massan. The worthy steersman acted
rather too energetically on his own advice, for he dipped
his paddle with such force that it snapped in two.

“Be ready to jump out,” cried Dick Prince, standing
up in the bow in order to give more power to his
strokes.

As he spoke, Stanley turned to his wife and said,
“ Jessie, hold on by my collar; I'll take Eda in my
arms.” At that instant the canoe gave a lurch, and
before Stanley could grasp his child, they were all
struggling in the sea! At this awful moment, instead
of endeavouring to do as her husband directed, Mrs.
Stanley instinctively threw her arms around Edith, and
while the waves were boiling over her, she clasped the
child tightly to her bosom with her left arm, while with
her right she endeavoured to raise herself to the surface.
Twice she succeeded, and twice she sank, when a box of
merchandise providentially struck her arm. Seizing this,
she raised herself above the water, and poor Edith
gasped convulsively once or twice for air. Then the box
was wrenched from her grasp by a wave, and with a
wild shriek she sank again. Just then a strong arm
was thrown around her, her feet touched the ground,
and in a few seconds she was dragged violently from
the roaring waves and fell exhausted on the beach.

“Thanks be to God we are saved!” murmured Mrs.
Stanley, as her husband assisted her to rise and led her
beyond the reach of the waves, while Edith still clung
with a deadly grasp to her mother’s neck.

“ Ay, Jessie, thank God indeed! But for his mercy
UNGAVA. _ 89

we should have all been lost. I was floundering about
beside the canoe when your scream showed me where
you were, and enabled me to save you. But rest here,
in the lee of this bale. I cannot stay by you. Frank
is in danger still.”

Without waiting for a reply, he sprang from her side
and hurried down to the beach. Here everything was
in the utmost confusion. The two large canoes had been
saved and dragged out of the reach of the waves, and
the men were struggling in the boiling surf to rescue
the baggage and provisions, on which latter their very
lives depended. As Stanley reached the scene of action,
he observed several of the men watching the small canoe
which contained Frank and his two Indians. It had
been left some distance behind by the others, and was
now approaching with arrow speed on the summit of a
large wave. Suddenly the top of the billow curled over,
and in another moment the canoe was turned bottom
up! Like a cork it danced on the wave’s white crest,
then falling beneath the thundering mass of water, it
was crushed to pieces and cast empty upon the beach.
But Frank and his men swam like otters, and the party
on shore watched them with anxious looks as they
breasted manfully over the billows. At last a towering
wave came rolling majestically forward. It caught the
three swimmers in its rough embrace, and carrying them
along on its crest, launched them on the beach, where it
left them struggling with the retreating water. Those
who have bathed in rough weather on an exposed coast
know well how difficult it is to regain a firm footing on
loose sand while a heavy wave is sweeping backward
into its parent ocean. Frank and the two Indians ex-
perienced this; and they might have struggled there till
their strength had been exhausted, were it not for
90 UNGAVA.

Stanley, Prince, and Massan, who rushed simultaneously
into the water and rescued them.

As the whole party had now, by the goodness of God,
reached the land in safety, they turned their undivided
energies towards the bales and boxes which were rolling
about in the surf. Many of these had been already
collected, and were carried to the spot where Mrs. Stan-
ley and Edith lay under the shelter of a bale. As the
things were successively brought up they were piled
around the mother and child, who soon found themselves
pretty well sheltered from the wind, though not from the
rain, which still fell in torrents. Soon after Frank
came to them, and said that all the things were saved,
and that it was time to think of getting up some sort
of shelter for the night. This was very much needed,
for poor Edith was Besinuine to shiver from the wet and
cold.

“ Now then, Francois, Massan,” shouted Frank, “lend
a hand here to build a house for Eda. We'll be all as
snug as need be in a few minutes.”

Despite the cold and her recent terror, the poor child
could not help smiling at the idea of building a house
in a few minutes, and it was with no little curiosity that
she watched the operations of the men. Meanwhile Mr.
Stanley brought some wine in a pannikin, and made
Hdith and his wife drink a little. This revived them
greatly, and as the rain had now almost ceased they rose
and endeavoured to wring the water out of their gar-
ments. In less than half-an-hour the men piled the
bales and boxes in front of the largest canoe, which was
turned bottom up, and secured firmly in that position by
an embankment of sand. Over the top of all three oil-
cloths were spread and lashed down, thus forming. a
complete shelter, large enough to contain the whole
UNGAVA. 91

party. At one end of this curious house Mr. Stanley
made a separate apartment for his wife and child, by
placing two large bales and a box as a partition; and
within this little space Edith soon became very busy in
arranging things, and “putting the house to rights,” as
she said, as long as the daylight lasted, for after it went
away they had neither candles nor fire, as the former
had been soaked and broken, and as for the latter no
wood could be found on the island. The men’s clothes
were, of course, quite wet, so they cut open a bale of
blankets, which had not been so much soaked as the
other goods, having been among the first things that
were washed ashore.

At the time they were wrecked the dashing spray
and the heavy rain, together with the darkness of the
day, had prevented the shipwrecked voyageurs from
ascertaining the nature of the island on which they had
been cast; and as the night closed in while they were
yet engaged in the erection of their temporary shelter,
they had to lie down to rest in ignorance on this point.
After such a day of unusual fatigue and excitement, they
all felt more inclined for rest than food ; so, instead of
taking supper, they all lay down huddled together under
the canoe, and slept soundly, while the angry winds
whistled round them, and the great sea roared and
lashed itself into foam on the beach, as if disappointed
that the little band of adventurers had escaped and were
now beyond the reach of its impotent fury.
CHAPTER X.

The sand-bank—Dismal prospects—Consultations—Internal arrangements
exposed and detailed.

F all the changes that constantly vary the face of
nature, the calm that succeeds a storm is one of
the most beautiful, and the most agreeable, perhaps, to
the feelings of man. Few conditions of nature convey
to the mind more thoroughly the idea of complete repose,
—of deep rest after mortal strife, of sleep after ex-
hausting toil; and those who have passed through the
violence of the storm and done battle with its dangers
are, by the physical rest which they enjoy after it is
over, the more fitted to appreciate and sympathize with
the repose which reigns around them.

When the sun rose, on the morning after the storm,
it shone upon a scene so calm and beautiful, so utterly
unconnected with anything like the sin of a fallen
world, and so typical, in its deep tranquillity, of the
mind of Him who created it, that it seemed almost
possible for a moment to fancy that the promised land
was gained at last, and that all the dark clouds, the
storms and dangers, the weary journeyings and the
troubles of the wilderness, were past and gone for ever.
So glorious was the scene that when Edith, rising from
her rude couch and stepping over the prostrate forms of
her still slumbering companions, issued from the shelter
UNGAVA. 93

of the canoe and cast her eyes abroad upon the glassy
sea, she could not restrain her feelings, and uttered a
thrilling shout of joy that floated over the waters and
reverberated among the glittering crags of the surround-
ing icebergs.

The island on which the travellers had been cast was
a mere knoll of sand, not more than a few hundred
yards in circumference, that scarcely raised its rounded
summit above the level of the water, and at full tide
was reduced to a mere speck, utterly destitute of vege-
tation. The sea around it was now smooth and clear as
glass, though undulated by a long, regular swell, which
rolled, at slow, solemn intervals, in majestic waves to-
wards the sand-bank, where they hovered for a moment
in curved walls of dark-green water, then, lipping over
at their crests, fell in a roar of foam that hissed a deep
sigh on the pebbles of the beach, and left the silence
greater than before. Masses of ice floated here and
there on the surface of the deep, the edges and fantastic
points of which were tipped with light. Not far from
the northern extremity of the sand-bank a large iceberg
had grounded, from the sides of which several pinnacles
had been hurled by the shock and now lay stranded on
the beach.

The shout with which Edith had welcomed the morn-
ing roused the whole party, and in a few minutes they
were all assembled outside of their little hut, some
admiring the scene, others—of a less enthusiastic and
more practical turn—examining the circumstances of
their position, and considering the best course that
should be pursued in their difficulty.

Mr. Stanley, Dick Prince, and Massan, as was their
wont, held a council upon the existing state of things,
and after much gazing round at the sea and up at the
94, UNGAVA.

sky, and considerable grunting of his deep voice and
rubbing of his capacious chin, on the part of the latter,
he turned to Dick Prince, as if appealing to his superior
sagacity, and said—

“Well, ye see, my ’pinion’s jist this: yonder’s the
mainland there” (pointing to the eastward, where, about
ten miles distant, the rocks and trees were seen distorted
and faintly looming through a tremulous haze), “an’
there’s our canoes there” (jerking his thumb over his
shoulder in the direction of the large canoes, whose torn
sides and damaged ribs, as they lay exposed on the sand,
bore sad testimony to the violence of the previous night’s
storm), “and there’s the little canoe yonder” (glancing
toward the craft in question, which lay on the beach a
hopelessly-destroyed mass of splinters and shreds of bark
that projected and bristled in all directions, as if in un-
controllable amazement at the suddenness and entirety
of its own destruction). “Now, that bein’ the case, an’
the baggage all wet, an’ the day parfitly beautiful, an’
the sun about hot enough to bile the sea, we can’t do
better nor stay where we are an’ mend the canoes, dry
the goods, an’ start fair to-morrow mornin’.”

Stanley looked at Prince, as if expecting a remark
from him; but the grave countenance of the silent
bowman indicated that he was absorbed in contemplation.

“Tis quite evident, Massan,” said Stanley, “that we
must repair the canoes; but a few hours could do that,
and I don’t like the idea of staying another night on a
strip of sand like this, which, I verily believe, another
stiff nor’-wester would blow away altogether.—But what
say you, Prince? Do you advise our remaining ?”

“Yes,” replied Dick, “I do. Ye see there’s no fear of
another storm soon. "Tis a good chance for dryin’ the
goods, so I vote for stoppin’.”
UNGAVA. 95

“ Well, then, we shall stay,” replied Stanley. “To say
truth, I agreed with you at first, Massan, but it’s always
advisable to look at both sides of a question—”

“Yes, and ‘in the multitude of counsellors there is
wisdom, ” said Frank Morton, coming up at the moment,
and tapping his friend on the shoulder. “If you will
include me in your confabulation, you shall have the
benefit of deep experience and far-sighted sagacity.”

“Come, then, Master Frank,” replied Stanley, “what
does your sagacity advise on the point of our staying on
this sand-bank ? Shall we spend another night on it in
order to dry the goods, or shall we up and away to terra
firma as soon as the canoes are seaworthy ?”

“Stay, of course,” said Frank. “As to the sand-bank,
‘tis firm enough, to my mind, after resisting the shock
of the wave that dashed me ashore last night. Then,
we have everything we need—shelter and food, and
even fuel.” As Frank mentioned the last word, he
glanced round with a rueful countenance and pointed to
the bark and timbers of his broken canoe.

“True, Frank, we have wherewith to boil the kettle,
and as the water-cask was full when we started yester- -
day morning, there will be enough at least for one or
two days.”

“By the way, that reminds me that Eda and your
wife are particularly desirous of having breakfast,” said
Frank. “In fact they sent me specially to lay their
melancholy case before you; and I have great fears that
Eda will lay violent hands on the raw pork if her morn-
ing meal is delayed much longer. As for Chimo, he is
rushing about the island in a state of ravenous despair ;
so pray let us be going.”

“Be it so, Frank,” said Stanley, taking his friend’s
arm, and sauntering towards the canoe, while Massan
96 UNGAVA.

and Prince went to inform their comrades of the deter-
mination of their leader.

In an hour after the above discourse breakfast was
over, and the men, under Stanley’s inspection, arranged
and examined the baggage, which, considering that it
had been rolled about by the surf for a considerable
time, was not so much soaked as might have been ex-
pected. The two kegs of gunpowder were first inspected,
being the most valuable part of the cargo, as on them
depended much of their future livelihood. They were
found to be quite dry, except a small portion of powder
at the seams of the staves, which, having caked with the
moisture, had saved the rest from damage. Some of the
bales, however, containing knives and other hardware,
were very wet, and had to be opened out and their con-
tents wiped and spread out to dry. Blankets, too, and
other woollen garments that had suffered, were also
spread out on the sand, so that in a short tinie the little
island was quite covered with a strange assortment of
miscellaneous articles, that gave to it the appearance of
a crowded store. The entire wealth of the fur-traders
was now exposed to view, and it may perhaps be inter-
esting to enumerate the different articles, in order to
give some idea of the outfit deemed necessary on such
an expedition.

And, first, there were two kegs of gunpowder, as
before mentioned, containing each thirty pounds, with
four bags of ball and three of shot of various sizes—in
all, about 250 pounds of lead. Six nets of four and a
half inch mesh. nets—most of the men being able to construct these
useful articles. A small bag of gun-flints. Sixty
pounds of roll tobacco. Twelve large axes. Six augers,
Seven dozen scalping-knives. Six pounds of variously-
UNGAVA. 97

coloured beads. Two dozen fire-steels, and a pretty large
assortment of awls, needles, thread, nails, and such like
small articles, which, though extremely useful, were too
numerous and comparatively insignificant to mention in
detail. Besides these, there was a small bale containing
gaudy ornaments and attractive articles, which were
intended as propitiatory presents to the Esquimaux
when they should be met with. Then there were two
runlets of salt pork, containing about ninety pounds
each, and in the centre of each runlet were two hams.
A barrel of flour and a barrel of oatmeal constituted all
their provision, if we except a small cask of hard biscuit,
and a little tea and sugar, which were the private pro-
perty of Stanley and Frank Morton. There was also a
large deerskin tent, capable of holding from twenty to
thirty men, which was intended to be used while they
were engaged in building their winter residence at
Ungava. As to arms, each man had one of the long
single-barrelled fowling-pieces that are supplied by the
Fur Company to the natives, and are styled Indian
guns. Stanley had a double-barrelled flint fowling-
piece; and Frank had a rifle, besides a single gun of a
description somewhat finer than that supplied to the
Indians. Of course each man carried a scalping-knife
and an axe in his belt, not for the purpose of self-
defence, but for carving their food and cutting their fuel.

It may be well to remark here that the goods and
provisions which we have detailed above were merely
intended as a supply for their immediate necessities,
and to enable them to commence active operations at
once on arriving at their destination, while the heavy
stores and goods necessary for the year’s trade were to
be forwarded in a small sloop from the depot direct
through Hudson's Straits to Ungava Bay.

7
98 UNGAVA.

When the work of unpacking and exposing the things
to dry in the sun was accomplished, it was long past
noon, and high time for dinner, so a fire was lighted by
Bryan, who cut up another portion of Frank’s canoe for
the purpose. A rasher of pork and a flour cake were
disposed of by each of the party in a surprisingly short
time, and then the men bestirred themselves in mending
the canoes. This was a more troublesome job than they
expected, but being accustomed not only to mend but
to make canoes, they worked with a degree of skill and
diligence that speedily put all to rights. In Massan’s
canoe there was a hole large enough, as Bryan remarked,
to stick his head through, though it was a “big wan, an’
no mistake.” Taking up a roll of bark, which was
carried with them for the purpose, Massan cut from it a
square patch, which he sewed over the hole, using an
awl for a needle and the fibrous roots of the pine-tree,
called wattape, for thread. After it was firmly sewed
on, the seams were covered with melted gum, and the
broken spot was as tight and strong as ever. There
were next found several long slits, one of them fully
three feet, which were more easily managed, as they
merely required to be sewed and covered with gum.
Several broken ribs, however, were not so easily re-
paired. Had there been any wood on the island,
Massan’s quick knife would have soon fashioned new
ribs ; as it was, he had to make the best job he could,
by splicing the old ones with several pieces abstracted
from Frank’s little canoe.

It was sunset before all was put in complete order,
the goods repacked, and placed in readiness for a start
at daybreak on the following morning. After all was
done, the remains of the small canoe were converted
into a bonfire, round which the tired and hungry
UNGAVA. 99

travellers assembled to smoke and chat, while supper
was being prepared by the indefatigable Bryan and his
friend La Roche. As the day faded away the stars
came out, one by one, until they glittered in millions
in the sky, while the glare of the fire became every
moment more and more intense as the darkness deepened.
It was a strange, wild scene,—especially when viewed
from the extremity of the little sand-bank, which was
so low as to be almost indiscernible in the dark night,
and seemed scarce a sufficient foundation for the little
busy group of human beings who stood radiant in the
red light of their camp-fire, like a blazing gem cast upon
the surface of the great cold sea.
CHAPTER XI.

Start afresh—Superstitious notions—The whirlpool—The interor—Fishing in
the old way on new ground, and what came of it—A cold bath—The rescue
—Saved—Deeper and deeper into the wilderness.

Ae if to make amends for its late outrageous con-

duct, the weather, after the night of the great
storm, continued unbrokenly serene for many days,
enabling our travellers to make rapid progress towards
their destination. It would be both tiresome and un-
necessary to follow them step by step throughout their
journey, as the part of it which we have already de-
scribed was, in many respects, typical of the whole
voyage along the east coast of Hudson’s ‘Bay. Some-
times, indeed, a few incidents of an unusual character
did occur. Once they were very nearly being crushed
between masses of ice ; twice the larger canoe struck on
a hummock, and had to be landed and repaired ; and
frequently mishaps of a slighter nature befell them.
Their beds, too, varied occasionally. At one time they
laid them down to rest on the sand of the sea-shore ; at
another, on the soft turf and springy moss of the woods.
Sometimes they were compelled to content themselves
with a couch of pebbles, few of which were smaller than
a man’s fist; and, not unfrequently, they had to make
the best they could of a flat rock, whose unyielding sur-
face seemed to put the idea of anything like rest to
UNGAVA. 101

flight, causing the thin men of the party to growl and
the fat ones to chuckle. Bryan was one of the well-
favoured, being round and fleshy; while his poor little
friend La Roche possessed a framework of bones that
were so sparingly covered with softer substance, as to
render it a matter of wonder how he and the stones
could compromise the matter at all, and called forth
from his friend frequent impertinent allusions to “ thrid-
papers, bags o’ bones, idges o’ knives, half fathoms 0’
pump water,” and such like curious substances. But
whatever the bed, it invariably turned out that the
whole party slept soundly from the time they lay down
till the time of rising, which was usually at the break
of day.

Owing to the little Indian canoe having been wrecked
on the sand-bank, Frank and his men had to embark in
the smaller of the large canoes, a change which was in
some respects a disadvantage to the party, as Frank
could not now so readily dash away in pursuit of game.
However, this did not much matter, as, in a few days
afterwards, they arrived at the mouth of the river by
which they intended to penetrate into the interior of the
country. The name of the river is Deer River, and it
flows into Richmond Gulf, which is situated on the east
shore of Hudson’s Bay, in lat. 56° N. Richmond Gulf
is twenty miles long, and about the same in breadth ;
but the entrance to it is so narrow that the tide pours
into it like a torrent until it is full. The pent-up
waters then rush out on one side of this narrow inlet
while they are running in at the other, causing a whirl-
pool which would engulf a large boat and greatly
endanger even a small vessel. Of course it was out of
the question to attempt the passage of such a vortex in
canoes, except at half flood or half ebb tide, at which
102 UNGAVA,

periods the waters become quiet. On arriving at the
mouth of the gulf, the travellers found the tide out, and
the entrance to it curling and rolling in massive volumes,
as if all the evil water-spirits of the north were holding
their orgies there. Oostesimow and Ma-istequan, being
by nature and education intensely superstitious, told
Stanley—after they had landed to await the flow of the
tide—that it was absolutely necessary to perform certain
ceremonies in order to propitiate the deities of the place,
otherwise they could not expect to pass such an awful
whirlpool in safety. Their leader smiled, and told them
to do as they thought fit, adding, however, that he
would not join them, as he did not believe in any deities
whatever, except the one true God, who did not require
to be propitiated in any way, and could not be moved
by any other means than by prayer in the name of
Jesus Christ. The red men seemed surprised a little at
this, but, with their proverbial stoicism, refrained from
any further or more decided expression of feeling.

Nevertheless, the Indians sufficiently showed their
faith in their own doctrines by immediately setting
about a series of curious and elaborate ceremonies, which
it was impossible to comprehend, and decidedly unprofit-
able to describe. They appeared, however, to attach
much importance to their propitiatory offerings, , the
chief among which seemed to be a few inches of tobacco,
with which it was fondly hoped the deities of the gulf
would condescend to smoke the pipe of peace while their
red children ventured to trespass a little on their domain;
and hard indeed must have been the hearts of the said
spirits had they refused so valuable an offering, for
tobacco is the life and marrow, the quintessence of ter-
restrial felicity, the very joy and comfort of a voyageur,
and the poor Indians had but little of it to spare.
UNGAVA. 103

While this was going on, Bryan stood with his back
to the fire, a remarkably short and peculiarly black pipe
in his mouth, and his head inclined sagaciously to one
side, as if he designed, by dint of a combination of
intense mental abstraction, partial closing of his eyes,
severe knitting of his brows, and slow but exceedingly
voluminous emission of smoke, to come to a conclusion
in regard to the unfathomable subject of Indian supersti-
tion. La Roche, steeped in unphilosophic indifference on
such matters, and keenly alive to the gross cravings of
hunger, busied himself in concocting a kettle of soup ;
while the rest of the party rambled about the beach or
among the bushes in search of eggs. In this latter
search Frank and Edith were very successful, and
returned with pockets laden with excellent eggs of the
eider-duck, which were immediately put into the kettle,
and tended not a little to increase the excellence of the
soup and the impatience of the men.

Meanwhile the tide rose, the power of the current was
gradually checked, and towards noon they passed the
dangerous narrows in safety. From the view that was
now obtained of the interior, it became evident that the
worst of their journey yet lay before them. On arriv-
ing at the mouth of Deer River, the mountains were
seen to rise abruptly and precipitously, while far away
inland their faint blue peaks rose into the sky. Indeed,
from this point the really hard work of the voyage may
be said to have commenced ; for, scarcely had they pro-
ceeded a few miles up the river, when their further
progress, ab least by water, was effectually interrupted
by a rapid which came leaping madly down its rocky |
bed, as if the stream rejoiced to escape from the chasms
and mountain gorges, and find rest at last on the ample
bosom of the great deep.
104 UNGAVA.

“What think ye of that, boy?” said Stanley to
Frank Morton, as they leaped from their respective
canoes, and stood gazing at the rugged glen from which
the rapid issued, and the wild appearance of the hills
beyond. “It seems to me that report spoke truly when
it said that the way to Clearwater Lake was rugged.
Here is no despicable portage to begin with; and yonder
cliffs, that look so soft and blue in the far distance, will
prove to be dark and hard enough when we get at them,
I warrant.”

“When we get at them!” echoed Mrs, Stanley, as
she approached, leading Edith by the hand. “Get at
them, George! Had any one asked me if it were
possible to pass over these mountains with our canoes
and cargoes, I should have answered, ‘ Decidedly not !’”

“ And yet you were so foolish and reckless as to be
the first to volunteer for this decidedly impossible ex-
Reon ” replied Stanley.

“There you are inconsistent,” said Mrs. Stanley, smil-
ing. “If reckless, I cannot be foolish, according to your
own showing; for I have heard you give it as your
opinion that recklessness is one of the most essential
elements in the leaders of a forlorn-hope. But really
the thing does seem to my ignorant mind impossible.—
What think you, Eda ?”

Mrs. Stanley bent down and looked into the face of
her child, but she received no reply. The expanded
eyes, indeed, spoke volumes; and the parted lips, on
which played a fitful, exulting smile, the heightened
colour, and thick-coming bread told eieqcentlys of her
anticipated delight in these new regions, which seemed
so utterly Acree from the shores of the bay: but her
tongue was mute.

And well might Mrs. Stanley think the passage over
UNGAVA. ; 105

these mountains impossible; for, except to men accus-
tomed to canoe travelling in the American lakes and
rivers, such an attempt would have appeared as hopeless
as the passage of a ship through the ice-locked polar
seas in winter.

Not so thought the men. Already several of the
most active of them were scrambling up the cliffs with
heavy loads on their backs ; and, while Stanley and his
wife were yet conversing, two of them approached
rapidly, bearing the large canoe on their shoulders.
The exclamation that issued from the foremost of these
proved him to be Bryan.

“ Now, bad luck to ye, Gaspard! can’t ye go stidy ?
It’s mysilf that’ll be down on me blissid nose av ye go
staggerin’ about in that fashion. Sure it’s Losh, the
spalpeen, that would carry the canoe better than you.”

Gaspard made no reply. Bryan staggered on, growl-
ing as he went, and in another minute they were hid
from view among the bushes.

“What do you see, Frank?” inquired Stanley ; “ you
stare as earnestly as Bryan did at the white bear last
week. What is’t, man? speak!”

“A fish,” replied Frank. “I saw him rise in the
pool, and I’m certain he’s a very large one.”

“Very likely, Frank ; there ought to be fish of some
sort there. I’ve been told—hist! there he’s again. As
I live, a salmon! a salmon, Frank! Now for your rod,
my boy.”

But Frank heard him not, for he was gone. In a few
minutes he returned with a fishing-rod, which he was
busily engaged in putting up as he hurried towards the
rocks beside the pool.

Now, Frank Morton was a fisher. We do not mean
to say that he was a fisher by profession; nor do we
106 UNGAVA.

merely affirm that he was rather fond of the gentle art
of angling, or generally inclined to take a cast when he
happened to be near a good stream. By no means.
Frank was more than that implies. He was a steady,
thorough-going disciple of Izaak Walton; one who, in
the days of his boyhood, used to flee to the water-side
at all seasons, in all weathers, and despite all obstacles.
Not only was it his wont to fish when he could, or how
he could, but too often was he beguiled to fish at times
and in ways that were decidedly improper ; sometimes
devoting those hours which were set apart expressly for
the acquirement of Greek and Latin, to wandering by
mountain stream or tarn, rod in hand, up to the knees
in water, among the braes and woodlands of his own
native country. And Frank’s enthusiasm did not de-
pend entirely on his success. It was a standing joke
among his school-fellows that Frank would walk six
miles any day for the chance of a nibble from the ghost
of a minnow. Indeed he was often taunted by his
ruder comrades with being such a keen fisher that he
was quite content if he only hooked a drowned cat
during a day’s excursion. But Frank was good-natured;
he smiled at their jests, and held on the even tenor of
his way, whipping the streams more pertinaciously than
his master whipped him for playing truant; content
alike to bear ignominy and chastisement, so long as he
was rewarded by a nibble, and overjoyed beyond expres-
sion when he could return home with the tail of a two-
pounder hanging over the edge of his basket. Far be it
from us to hold up to ridicule the weakness of a friend,
but we cannot help adding that Master Frank made the
most of his tails. His truthful and manly nature, in-
deed, would not stoop to actual deception, but he had
been known on more than one occasion to offer to carry
UNGAVA. 107

a friends waterproof fishing-boots in his basket, when
his doing so rendered it impossible to prevent the tails
of his trout from protruding arrogantly, as if to insinuate
that there were shoals within. Another of Frank’s
weaknesses was, upon the hooking of every fish, to
assert, with overweening confidence and considerable
excitement, that it was a tremendously big one. Ex-
perience had, during all his piscatorial career, contra-
dicted him ninety-nine times out of every hundred; but
Frank’s firm belief in his last minnow being a big trout
—at least until it lay gasping on the bank at his feet—
was as unshaken after long years of mistaken calcula-
tion as when first he sallied forth to the babbling brook
with a willow branch, a fathom of twine, and a crooked
pin!

Such untiring devotion of course could not fail to
make Frank particularly knowing in all the details and
minutie of his much-loved sport. He knew every hole
and corner of the rivers and burns within fifteen miles
of his father’s house. He became mysteriously wise in
regard to the weather ; knew precisely the best fly for
any given day, and, in the event of being unhappily
destitute of the proper kind, could dress one to perfec-
tion in ten minutes. As he grew older and taller, and
the muscles on his large and well-made limbs began to
develop, Frank slung a more capacious basket on his
back, shouldered a heavier rod, and, with a pair of thick
shoes and a home-spun shooting suit, stretched away
over the Highland hills towards the romantic shores of
the west coast of Scotland. Here he first experienced
the wild excitement of salmon-fishing; and here the
Waltonian chains, that had been twining and thickening
around him from infancy, received two or three addi-
tional coils, and were finally rivetted for ever. During
108 UNGAVA.

his sojourn in America, he had happened to dwell in
places where the fishing, though good, was not of a very
exciting nature ; and he had not seen a salmon since the
day he left home, so that it is not matter for wonder
that his stride was rapid and his eye bright while he
hurried towards the pool, as before mentioned.

He who has never left the beaten tracks of men, or
trod the unknown wilderness, can have but a faint con-
ception of the feelings of a true angler as he stands by
the brink of a dark pool which has hitherto reflected
only the antlers of the wild deer—whose dimpling
eddies and flecks of foam have been disturbed by no
fisher since the world began, except the polar bear.
Besides the pleasurable emotions of strong hope, there is
the additional charm of uncertainty as to what will rise,
and of certainty that if there be anything piscatine
beneath these fascinating ripples it undoubtedly will
rise—and bite too! Then there is the peculiar satisfac-
tion of catching now and then a drop of spray from, and
hearing the thunder of, a cataract, whose free, surging
bound is not yet shackled by the tourist’s sentimental
description ; and the novelty of beholding one’s image
reflected in a liquid mirror whose geographical position
is not yet stereotyped on the charts of man. Alas for
these maps and charts! Despite the wishes of scientific
geographers and the ignorance of unscientific explorers,
we think them far too complete already; and we can
conceive few things more dreadful or crushing to the
enterprising and romantic spirits of the world than the
arrival of that time (if it ever shall arrive) when it shall
be said that terra incognita exists no longer—when
every one of those fairy-like isles of the southern seas,
and all the hidden wonders of the polar regions, shall be
put down, in cold blood, on black and white, exposed
UNGAVA. 109

profanely on the schoolroom walls, and drummed into
the thick heads of wretched little boys who don’t want
to learn, by the unsympathizing hands of dominies who,
it may be, care but little whether they do or not!

But to return. While Frank stood on the rocks,
attaching to the line a salmon-fly which he had selected
with much consideration from his book, he raised his
eyes once or twice to take a rapid glance at his position
and the capabilities of the place. About fifty yards
farther up the river the stream curled round the base of
a large rock, and gushed into a pool which was encircled
on all sides by an overhanging wall, except where the:
waters issued forth in a burst of foam. Their force,
however, was materially broken by another curve, round
which they had to sweep ere they reached this exit, so
that when they rushed into the larger pool below they
calmed down at once, and, on reaching the point where
Frank stood, assumed that oily, gurgling surface, dimpled
all over with laughing eddies, that suggests irresistibly
the idea of fish not only being there, as a matter of
course, but being there expressly and solely for the pur-
pose of being caught! A little farther down, the river
took a slight bend, and immediately after, recurring to
its straight course, it dashed down, for a distance of fifty
yards, in a tumultuous rapid, which swept into sudden
placidity a few hundred yards below. Having taken all
this in at a glance, Frank dropped the fly into the water
and raised his rod to make a cast. In this act he almost
broke the rod, to his amazement ; for, instead of whip-
ping the fly lightly out of the water, he dragged a trout
of a pound weight violently up on the bank.

“Bravo!” eried Stanley, laughing heartily at his
friend’s stare of mingled wonder and amazement,—
“bravo, Frank! I’m no fisher myself, but I’ve always
110 UNGAVA.

understood that fish required a little play before being
landed. However, you have convinced me of my igno-
rance. J see that the proper way is to toss them over
your head! A salmon must be rather troublesome to
toss, but no doubt, with your strong arms, you'll manage
it easily, hey ?”

“Why, what an appetite they must have!” replied
Frank, answering his friend’s badinage with a smile.
“If the little fellows begin thus, what will not the big
ones do?”

As he spoke, he disengaged the fish and threw it
down, and made the next cast so rapidly, that if another
trout was waiting to play him a similar trick, it must
have been grievously disappointed. The line swept
lightly through the air, and the fly fell gently on the
stream, where it had not quivered more than two
seconds when the water gurgled around it. The next
moment Frank’s rod bent like a hoop, and the line flew
through the rings with whirring rapidity, filling these
lonely solitudes for the first time with the pleasant
“music of the reel.” Almost before Frank had time to
take a step in a downward direction, fifty yards were
run out, the waters were suddenly cleft, and a salmon
sprang like a bar of burnished silver twice its own
height into the air. With a sounding splash it returned
to its native element; but scarcely had its fins touched
the water, when it darted towards the bank. Being
brought up suddenly here, it turned at a tangent, and
flashed across the pool again, causing the reel to spin
with renewed velocity. Here the fish paused for a
second, as if to collect its thoughts, and then coming,
apparently, to a summary determination as to what it
meant to do, it began steadily to ascend the stream, not,
indeed, so rapidly as it had descended, but sufficiently so
UNGAVA. 111

to give Frank some trouble, by means of rapidly wind-
ing up, to keep the line tight. Having bored doggedly
towards the head of the rapid, the fish stopped and
began to shake its head passionately, as if indignant at
being foiled in its energetic attempts to escape. After a
little time, it lay sulkily down at the bottom of the
pool, where it defied its persecutor to move it an inch.

“What’s to be done now ?” asked Stanley, who stood
ready to gaff the fish when brought near to the bank.

“We must rouse him up,” said Frank, as he slowly
wound up the line. “Just take up a stone and throw
ib at him.”

Stanley looked surprised, for he imagined that such a
proceeding would frighten the fish and cause it to snap
the line; but seeing that Frank was in earnest, he did
as he was directed. No sooner had the stone sunk than
the startled fish once more dashed across the river ; then
taking a downward course, it sped like an arrow to the
brink of the rough water below. ‘To have allowed the
salmon to go down the rapid would have been to lose it,
so Frank arrested the spinning of his reel and held on.
For a second or two the rod bent almost in a circle, and
the line became fearfully rigid.

“You'll break it, Frank,’ cried Stanley, in some
anxiety.

“It can’t be helped,” said Frank, compressing his
lips; “he must not go down there. The tackle is new ;
I think it will hold him.”

Fortunately the tackle proved to be very good. The
fish was arrested, and after one or two short runs, which
showed that its vigour was abated, it was drawn care-
fully towards the rocks. As it drew near it rolled over
on its side once or twice—an evident sign of being
much exhausted.
112 UNGAVA.

“ Now, Stanley, be careful,” said Frank, as his friend
stepped cautiously towards the fish and extended the
gaff. “ve seen many a fine salmon escape owing to
careless gaffing. Don’t be in a hurry. Be sure of your
distance before you strike, and do it quickly. Now,
then—there—give it him—hurrah!” he shouted, as
Stanley passed the iron hook neatly into the side of the
fish, and lifted it high and dry on the rocks.

The cheer to which Frank gave vent, on this success-
ful termination to the struggle, was re-echoed heartily
by several of the men who, on passing the spot with
their loads, had paused and become deeply interested
spectators of the sport.

“Powerful big fish, sir,” said Bryan, throwing down
his pack and taking up the salmon by the gills. “'Twinty
pounds at laste, av it’s an ounce.”

“Scarcely that, Bryan,” said Stanley; “but it’s not
much less, I believe.”

“Ah! oui, ’tis ver’ pritty. Ver’ superb for supper,”
remarked La Roche.

The little Frenchman was right in saying that it was
pretty. Unlike the ordinary salmon, it was marked
with spots like a trout, its head was small and its
shoulders plump, while its silvery purity was exceed-
ingly dazzling and beautiful.

“Tis a Hearne-salmon,” said Massan, approaching
the group. “I’ve seed lots o’ them on the coast to the
south’ard o’ this, an’ I’ve no doubt we'll find plenty o’
them at Ungava.”

While the men were discussing the merits of the fish,
Frank had hooked another, eel although quite as
large, gave him much less trouble to land; and before
the: men had finished carrying the canoes and goods
over the portage, he had taken three fish out of the
UNGAVA. 113

same pool. Wishing, however, to try for a larger one
nearer the sea, he proceeded to take a cast below the
rapid.

Meanwhile, La Roche, whose activity had enabled
him to carry over his portion of the cargo long before
his comrades, came to the pool which Frank had just
left, and seating himself on a large stone, drew forth
his tobacco-pouch. With a comical leer at the water
which had so recently been deprived of its denizens, he
proceeded leisurely to fill a pipe.

It is impossible to foresee, and difficult to account for,
the actions of an impulsive human being. La Roche
sat down to smoke his pipe, but instead of smoking it,
he started to his feet and whirled it into the river.
This apparently insane action was followed by several
others, which, as they were successively performed,
gradually unfolded the drift of his intentions. Drawing
the knife which hung at his girdle, he went into the
bushes, whence he quickly returned, dragging after him
a large branch. From this he stripped the leaves and
twigs. Fumbling in his pocket for some time, he drew
forth a piece of stout cord, about four yards long, with
a cod-hook attached to the end of it. This line had
been constructed some weeks before when the canoes
were wind-bound at a part of the coast where La Roche,
desirous of replenishing the kettle, had made an un-
successful attempt at sea-fishing. Fastening this line to
the end of his extemporized rod, La Roche proceeded to
dress his hook. This he accomplished by means of the
feather of a duck which Frank shot the day before, and
a tag from his scarlet worsted belt; and, when finished,
it had more the appearance of some hideous reptile than
a gay fly. However, La Roche surveyed it for a mo-
ment or two with an expression of deep satisfaction,

8
114 UNGAVA.

and then, hurrying to the brink of the water, made a
violent heave.

“Oh! cent milles tonnerres!” he exclaimed angrily,
as the enormous hook caught in the leg of his trousers.
The large and clumsy barb was deeply imbedded, so there
was no help for it but to use the knife. The second
throw was more successful, and the hook alighted in the
water with a splash that ought to have sent all the fish
in the pool away in consternation. Instead of this, how-
ever, no sooner did the reptile trail upon the stream than
a trout dashed at it in such violent haste that it nearly
missed it altogether. As it was, it hooked itself very
slightly, and the excitable Frenchman settled the matter
by giving the line a violent tug, in his anxiety to land
the fish, that pulled the hook entirely out of its mouth.

“Ah! cest damage, ver’ great; mais try it encore,
my boy,” exclaimed the mortified angler. The next
throw, although well accomplished, produced nothing ;
but at the third attempt, ere the reptile had settled
on the water for a second, it was engulfed by a salmon
fully six pounds weight, and La Roche’s rod was almost
drawn out of his grasp.

“ Hilloa, Losh! what have ye got there?” exclaimed
Bryan, as, with several of the men, he approached to
where the Frenchman and the salmon strove in un-
certain conflict.

« By the mortial, he’s hucked a whale! Out with it,
boy, afore it pulls ye in!” said the Irishman, running to
the rescue.

Just then the salmon gave a pull of more than or-
dinary vigour, at the same moment La Roche slipped
his foot, and, ere Bryan could lay hold of him, fell
headlong into the water and disappeared. Bryan’s
hands hung helplessly down, his jaw dropped, and his
UNGAVA. 115

eyes opened wide, as he gazed in mute wonderment at
the spot where his friend’s toes had vanished. Sud-
denly he wrenched off his cap and flung it down, and
proceeded to tear off his coat, preparatory to leaping
into the river to the rescue, when his arms were pinioned
to his sides by the powerful gripe of Massan.

“ Come, Bryan,” said he, “you know very well that
you can’t swim ; you'd only make things worse.”

“Och! murder! he can’t swim neither. Let me go, ye
black villain. Thunder an’ turf! will ye see the poor lad
drownded forenint yer two eyes?” cried the poor Irish-
man, as he made violent but unavailing struggles to get
free. But Massan knew that to allow him to escape
would only add to the number requiring to be saved, and
as he himself could not swim, he saw at once that the
only service he could render under the circumstances would
be to hold the Irishman down. Clasping him, therefore,
as in a vice, he raised his head and gave a shout for
help that rolled in deep echoes among the overhanging
cliffs. Another shout was uttered at the same instant.
Edith, who happened to come up just as La Roche’s
head emerged from the water gasping for breath, uttered
a wild shriek that made more than one heart among
the absentees leap as they flew to the rescue.

Meanwhile La Roche rose and sank several times in
the surges of the pool. His face on these occasions
exhibited a mingled expression of terror and mischievous
wildness ; for although he could not swim a stroke, the
very buoyancy of his mercurial temperament seemed
partially to support him, and a feeling of desperate
determination induced him to retain a death-like gripe
of the rod, at the end of which the salmon still struggled.
But his strength was fast going, and he sank for the
fourth time with a bubbling cry, when a step was heard
116 UNGAVA.

crashing through the adjacent bushes, and Dick Prince
sprang down the slope like a deer. He did not pause
when the scene burst upon his view, but a smile of
satisfaction played upon his usually grave face when
he saw Edith safe on the banks of the stream. Another
spring and an agile bound sent him headlong into the
pool about a yard from the spot where La Roche had
last sunk. Scarcely had he disappeared when the dog
Chimo bounded towards the scene of action, and, with
what intent no one could tell, leaped also into the
water. By this time Frank, Stanley, and nearly all the
party had assembled on the bank of the river, ready to
render assistance. In a few seconds they had the satis-
faction of seeing Dick Prince rise, holding poor La
Roche by the collar of his capote with his left hand,
while he swam vigorously towards the shore with his
right. But during the various struggles which had
taken place they had been gradually sucked into the
stream that flowed towards the lower rapid, and it now
became apparent to Prince that his only chance of safety
was in catching hold of the point of rock that formed
the first obstruction to the rush of water. Abandoning
all effort, therefore, to gain the bank beside him, he
swam with the current, but edged towards the shore as
he floated down.

“Hallo! La Roche!” he exclaimed loudly. “Do you
hear ? do you understand me?”

“Ah! oui, vraiment. I not dead yit.”

“Then let go that rod and seize my collar, and mind,
sink deep in the water. Show only enough o’ your face
to breathe with, or I'll drown ye.”

The Frenchman obeyed to the extent of seizing Dick’s
collar and sinking deep in the water, so as not to over-
burden his friend; but nothing could induce him to quit
UNGAVA. 117

the rod to which he had clung so long and so resolutely.
Prince’s arms being now free, one or two powerful
strokes placed him beyond the influence of the strong
current, and as he passed the rocks before mentioned, he
seized an overhanging branch of a small shrub, by
which he endeavoured to drag himself ashore. This,
however, he found to be impossible, partly owing to the
steepness of the shelving rock, and partly to the fact
that Chimo, in his ill-directed attempts to share in the
dangers of his friends, had seized La Roche by the skirts
of the coat in order to prevent himself from going down
the stream. Those on shore, on seeing Prince make for
the rock, ran towards the spot; but having to make a
slight detour round the bend of the river, they did not
reach it until he seized the branch, and when Frank,
who was the first, sprang down the slope to the rescue,
he found them streaming out and waving to and fro in
the current, like some monstrous reptile—Dick holding
on to the branch with both hands, La Roche holding on
to Dick, Chimo holding on by his teeth to La Roche,
and the unfortunate salmon holding on to the line which
its half-drowned captor scorned to let go.

A few seconds sufficed to drag them dripping from the
stream; and the energetic little Frenchman no sooner
found his feet on solid ground than he hauled out his
fish and landed it triumphantly with his own hand.

“Tis a pretty fish, La Roche,” said Frank, laughing,
as he busied himself in taking down his rod, while
several of the men assisted Dick Prince to wring the
water out of his clothes, and others crowded round La
Roche to congratulate him on his escape—‘’tis a pretty
fish, but it cost you some trouble to catch it.”

“Throuble, indeed!” echoed Bryan, as he sat on a rock
smoking his pipe; “troth it’s more nor him came to
118 UNGAVA.

throuble by that same fish: it guve me the throuble o
bein’ more nor half choked by Massan.”

“Half choked, Bryan! what mean you?” asked Frank.

“Mane? I just mane what I say; an’ the raison
why’s best known to himself.” |

A loud peal of laughter greeted Massan’s graphic ex-
planation of the forcible manner in which he had pre-
vented the Irishman from throwing himself into the river.

The party now turned earnestly to the more serious
duties of the journey. Already too much time had
been lost in this “playing themselves with fish,” as
Stanley expressed it, and it behoved them to embark as
speedily as possible. About a mile above the pool which
had nearly proved fatal to La Roche was the head of a
series of insurmountable rapids, which extended all the
way down to the waterfall. Beyond this was a pretty
long reach of calm water, up which they proceeded
easily; but as they advanced the current became so
strong that no headway could be made with the paddles,
and it was found necessary to send a party of the men
ashore with a long line, by means of which the canoes
were slowly dragged against the current. At length
they came to shallow water, which necessitated another
portage ; and as it was about sunset when they reached
it, Stanley ordered the tent to be pitched for the night,
and the fire lighted, under the shadow of a stupendous
mountain, the rocky sides of which were sprinkled with
dwarf pine trees, and partially covered with brush and
herbage. “Here Edith and her mother discovered mul-
titudes of berries, the most numerous being cloud and
crow berries; both of which were found to be good,
especially the former, and a fragrant dish of these
graced the towel that evening at supper.

Thus, day by day, our adventurous travellers penetrated
UNGAVA. 119

deeper and deeper into the heart of the wilderness, which
became more savage and mountainous as they left the
coast. Stanley drew forth his quadrant and compass,
wherewith he guided the party towards their future
home. At night, after the labour of the day was over,
he and Frank would spread their charts in the blaze of
the camp fire, and study the positions of the land so far
as ib was laid down; while Edith sat beside her mother,
helping her to repair the torn and way-worn habiliments
of her husband and Frank, or listening with breathless
interest to the men, as they recounted their experiences
of life in the different regions through which they had
travelled. Many of these tales were more or less col-
oured by the fancy of the narrators, but most of them
were founded on fact, and proved an unfailing source
of deep interest to the little child. Frank’s fishing-rod
was frequently in requisition, and often supplied the
party with more than enough of excellent fish; and at
every new bend and turn of the innumerable lakes and
rivers through which they passed, reindeer were seen
bounding on the mountain-sides, or trotting down the
ravines to quench their thirst and cool their Gis in the
waters; so that food was abundant, and their slender
stock of provisions had not to be trenched upon, while
the berries that grew luxuriantly everywhere proved a
grateful addition to their store. Thus, day by day, they
slowly retreated farther and farther from the world of
mankind—living in safety under the protection of the
Almighty, and receiving the daily supply of all their ne-
cessities from His fatherly and bountiful hand ; thus, day
by day, they rose with the sun, and lay down at night
to rest upon the mountain’s side or by the river’s bank ;
and thus, day by day, they penetrated deeper and deence

into the heart of the unknown wilderness.
CHAPTER XII.

A new scene—TLhe Esquimau—Deer slaying—Enemies in the bush.

URN we now to another, a more distant, and a
wilder scene. Near the bleak shores of Hudson’s
Straits there flows a river which forms an outlet to the
superfluous waters of the almost unknown territory lying
between the uninhabited parts of Labrador and that tract
of desert land which borders Hudson’s Bay on the east,
and is known to the fur-traders by the appellation of
Kast Main. This river is called the Caniapuscaw, and
discharges itself into Ungava Bay.

The scene to which we would turn the fealoe s atten-
tion is upwards of twenty miles from the mouth of this
river, at a particular bend, where the stream spreads
itself out into a sheet of water almost worthy of being
called a lake, and just below which two bold cliffs shut
out the seaward view, and cause an abrupt narrowing of
the river. The scene is peculiar, and surpassingly grand.
On each side of the stream majestic mountains raise
their bald and rugged peaks almost into the clouds.
Little herbage grows on the more exposed places, and
nothing, save here and there a stunted and weather-worn
pine, breaks the sharp outline of the cliffs. But in the
gorges and dark ravines—for there are no valleys—
clumps of small-sized spruce-fir and larch trees throw a
softness over some of the details of a spot whose general
UNGAVA. 121

aspect is one of sterility. The mountains rise in a suc-
cession of irregular steps or terraces, whose faces are so
precipitous that they cannot be ascended. To accomplish
the feat of scaling the mountain-tops it would be neces-
sary to clamber up a ravine until the first terrace should
be gained, then, walking along that, ascend the next
yavine, and so on. At the upper end of the lake (as we
shall hereafter call this wide part of the river) lies a low
island, fringed with a scanty growth of willows; and
not far from this, on the eastern bank of the river, lies
a small patch of level sand. This spot is somewhat
peculiar, inasmuch as it is backed by a low platform of
rock, whose surface is smooth asa table. At the foot
of this rock bubbles a little spring, which, meandering
through a tangled spot of stunted shrubbery ere it
mingles with the sand, gives unusual greenness and
vitality to the surrounding herbage. On the edge of
this rocky platform sat the figure of a man.

It was evening. The declining sun shot its last few
rays over the brow of the opposite mountains, and bathed
him in mellow light, as he sat apparently contemplating
the scene before him. The man’s costume bespoke him
a native of the savage region in the midst of which he
seemed the only human being. But although an Esqui-
mau, he exhibited several physical peculiarities not com-
monly supposed to belong to that people. To an altitude
of six feet three he added a breadth of shoulder and ex-
pansion of chest seldom equalled among men of more
highly-favoured climes; and his real bulk being very
greatly increased by his costume, he appeared to be a
very giant—no unfitting tenant of such giant scenery.
The said costume consisted of an extremely loose coat or
shirt of deerskin, having the hair outside, and a capa-
cious hood, which usually hung down behind, but covered
122 UNGAVA.

his head at this time, in order to protect it from a sharp
north-west breeze that whirled among the gullies of the
mountains, and surging down their sides, darkened the
surface of the water. A pair of long sealskin boots en-
cased his limbs from foot to thigh; and a little wallet
or bag of sealskin, with the hair outside, hung from his
shoulders. Simple although this costume was, it had a
bulky rotundity of appearance that harmonized well
with the giant’s frank, good-humoured countenance,
which was manly, firm, and massive, besides being rosy,
oily, and fat. In the latter peculiarity he partook of
the well-known characteristic of his tribe; but the
effeminacy in appearance that is produced by a round
fat face was done away in the case of our giant by a
remarkably black though as yet downy moustache and
beard, of a length suitable to twenty-three winters. His
hair was long, straight, and black, besides being uncom-
monly glossy—an effect attributable to the prevalence
of whale-oil in these regions. On the forehead the locks
were cut short, so as to afford free scope to his black
eyes and sturdy-looking nose. By his side lay a long
hunting spear, and a double-bladed paddle, fully fifteen
feet long ; which latter belonged to a kayak, or Esquimau
canoe, that lay on the sand close to the water's edge.
Sitting there, motionless as the rocks around him, the
giant looked like a colossal statue of an Esquimau. He
was no figure of stone, however, but a veritable human
being, as was proved by his starting suddenly from his
reverie and hastening towards the spring before men-
tioned, at which he stooped and drank rapidly, like one
who had to make up for lost time.
After a few hurried gulps, the man strode towards his
canoe, but as he went his restless eye became fixed on
the branching antlers of a deer, that were tossed in the
UNGAVA. 123

air on the summit of a neighbouring cliff Like one who
is suddenly paralyzed, the Esquimau stood transfixed in
the attitude in which he had been arrested. He did not
even seem to breathe, as the antlers moved to and fro,
clearly defined against the blue sky. At length they
disappeared, and the animal to which they belonged
slowly descended a ravine towards the river. Then, as
if set free from a spell, the man glided into his kayak,
and swept rapidly but noiselessly behind a projecting point
of rock, where he waited patiently till the deer took to the
water. He had not long to wait, however, for in a few
minutes afterwards the deer, followed by several com-
panions, walked out upon the patch of sand, snuffed the
air once or twice, and entered the stream with the inten-
tion of crossing.

But there was an enemy near whom they little
dreamed of—not an enemy who would dash excitedly
into the midst of them, or awaken the thunders of the
place with his noisy gun, but a foe who could patiently
bide his time, and take cool and quiet advantage of it
when it came. When the deer had proceeded about a
hundred yards into the river, the Esquimau dipped his
paddle twice, and the narrow, sharp-pointed canoe, which,
at a short distance, seemed little more than a floating
plank, darted through the water and ranged alongside of
the startled animals. The fattest of the herd was sepa-
rated from its fellows and driven towards the shore from
which it had started, while the others struggled across
the river. Once or twice the separated deer endeavoured
to turn to rejoin its comrades; an attempt which was
frustrated by the Esquimau, who could paddle infinitely
faster over the water in his skin canoe than the deer
could swim. As they neared the shore, the giant cast
on it one or two glances, and having made up his mind
124 UNGAVA.

as to the most convenient spot for landing, he urged the
point of his canoe between the antlers of the deer, and
steered it in this manner to the sand-bank. The deer,
thus directed, had no resource but to land where its per-
secutor chose; but no sooner did its foot touch ground,
than it sprang convulsively forward in the vain hope to
escape. The same instant its captor’s canoe shot beside
it. Grasping the long lance before mentioned in his
hand, he placed its glittering point on the deer’s side,
tickled it slowly to ascertain that it was between two
ribs, and, with a quick thrust, stabbed it to the heart.
A convulsive shudder, as the deers head sank in the
stream, proved that, though cold-blooded in appearance,
the action was more effective and less cruel than many
other more approved methods of killing game.

Our Esquimau thought neither of the method of slay-
ing his deer nor of man’s opinion regarding it. His sole
object was to procure supper, having tasted nothing since
early morning ; and the manner in which he ate showed
at once the strength of his appetite and his total indiffer-
ence to cookery, for he ate it raw. There was a certain
appearance of haste in all his actions which, however,
seemed unaccountable, considering the peaceful nature of
the vast solitudes around him. Scarcely had he cut off
and devoured a portion of the deer than he hastened
again to his canoe, and darted like an arrow from the
shore. This is no exaggerated simile. The long, thin,
sharp Esquimau kayak is highly suggestive of an arrow
in its form, and much more so in its extraordinary speed.
It consists of an extremely light frame-work of wood
covered with sealskin parchment, which is stretched
upon it all over as tight as a drum. The top of the
canoe being covered as well as the bottom, it is thus, as
it were, decked; and a small hole in the middle of this
UNGAVA. 125

deck admits its occupant. The kayak can only hold
one person. The paddle, as already said, is a long pole
with a blade at each end. It is dipped alternately on
each side, and is used not only to propel the kayak, but
to prevent it from upsetting. Indeed, so liable is it to
upset, that nothing but the wonderful adroitness of its
occupant prevents it from doing so with every swing of
his body.

Quick, however, though the kayak sped over the rip-
pling wave, it could not have escaped the messenger of
death that seemed about to be despatched after it by a
dark-skinned, red-painted Indian, who, at the moment the
vessel left the shore, leapt from behind a rocky point,
and, levelling a long gun, took a steady aim at the un-
conscious Esquimau. A little puff of powder answered
to the click of the lock, as the gun missed fire. With an
exclamation of anger the savage seized his powder-horn
to reprime, when a rude grasp was laid on his shoulder,
and another Indian, who, from the eagle feather in his
hair, and his general bearing, appeared to be a chief,
exclaimed ,—

“Fool! you have the impatience of a woman, and you
have not yet shown that you have the heart of a man.
Would the scalp of yon Eater-of-raw-flesh pay us for
coming so far from our hunting-grounds? If your gun
had spoken among these mountains, we would have found
the empty wigwams of his people, instead of fringing our
belts with their scalps.”

With a frown of anger the chief turned on his heel
and retraced his steps into the ravine from which he
had emerged, followed by his abashed and silent com-
panion.

Meanwhile the Esquimau, ignorant of the fate from
which he had just escaped, continued to ply his paddle with
126 UNGAVA.

right good-will. The little craft, obedient to the powerful
impulse, combined as it was with the current of the ebb-
tide, flew rather than floated toward the narrows, through
which it passed, and opened up a view of the ice-encum-
bered waters of Ungava Bay. Directing his course along
the western shores of the river, the Esquimau speedily
reached the coast at a point where several low, rough-
built summer huts clustered near the shore. Here he
ran his kayak into a little creek, and, having lifted it
beyond tide mark, betook himself to his dwelling.
CHAPTER XIII.

Savage love—A wife purchased—The attack—The jflight—The escape—The
wounded man.

CARCELY had the stout Esquimau proceeded a few
steps along the shore, when he was met by a
young girl who laid her hand on his arm. Taking her
gently by the shoulders, he drew her towards him and
kissed her on both cheeks; an action which caused her
to blush deeply as, with a half smile half frown on her
face, she pushed him away.

Love is the same all the world over, whether it glows
beneath the broad-cloth and spotless linen of a civilized
gentleman, or under the deerskin coat of a savage.
And its expression, we suspect, is somewhat similar
everywhere. The coy repulse of pretended displeasure
came as naturally from our plump little arctic heroine
as it could have done from the most civilized flirt, and
was treated with well-simulated contrition by our arctic
giant, as they walked slowly towards the huts. But
the Esquimau had other matters than love in his head
Just then, and the girl’s face assumed a grave and some-
what anxious look as he continued to whisper in her ear.

At the little hamlet they separated, and the maiden
went to her grandfather’s abode, while her lover, lifting
the skin-curtain door of a rudely-constructed hut, entered
his own humble dwelling. The room was empty, and
128 UNGAVA.

its owner did not seem as if he meant to cheer it with
his presence long. In one corner lay a pile of miscella-
neous articles, which he removed, and, taking the tusk
of a walrus which lay near his hand, began to dig with
it in the sand. In a few seconds it struck a hard
substance, and the Esquimau, putting his hand into the
hole, drew forth a glittering axe, upon which he gazed
with supreme satisfaction.

Now be it known to you, reader, that among the
Esquimaux of the frozen north iron is regarded with
about as much delight as gold is by ourselves. And the
reason is simple enough. These poor people live en-
tirely upon the produce of the chase. Polar bears, seals,
walruses, and whales are their staff of life. To procure
these animals, spears are necessary; to skin and cut
them up, knives are needful. But bone and stone make
sorry knives and spears; so that, when a bit of iron, no
matter how poor its quality or small its size, can be
obtained, it is looked on as the most valuable of posses-
sions; and the ingenuity displayed by Esquimaux in
fashioning the rudest piece of metal into the most useful
of implements is truly astonishing, proving, in the most
satisfactory way, that necessity is indeed the mother of
invention. The precious metal is obtained in two ways:
by the discovery of a wreck, which is extremely rare ;
and by barter with those tribes which sometimes visit
the Moravian settlements of Labrador. But neither source
is very productive. Even a nail is treasured as a blessing,
while an axe is a fortune! When our giant, therefore,
drew forth the shining implement, and gazed with delight
at its keen edge, he experienced as great satisfaction as
a miser does when gloating over his banker’s book !

Having satisfied himself that the axe was free from
all approximation to rust, he stuck it into a belt of raw
UNGAVA. 129

hide, which he put on for the express purpose of sustain-
ing it—as Esquimaux do not generally wear belts. He
then sallied forth, and walked with the air of a man
who wears the grand cross of the Legion of Honour.
As he went to the hut in which lived the oldest man of
the tribe, the shade of anxiety, which had clouded his
brow more than once during the day, again rested on
his face. On entering, he observed the cld Esquimau
listening with anxious countenance to the ycung girl
whom we have already introduced to the reader.

Now this girl—Aneetka by name—was by no means
an angel in Esquimau habiliments. Among civilized
fol probably she would not have been deemed even
pretty. Nevertheless, in the eyes of her lover she was
most decidedly beautiful, and round, and fat, and rosy,
and young, awkward, and comfortable! And the giant
loved her—never so strongly, perhaps, as when he saw
her striving to allay the fears of her old grandfather.
But this same grandfather was obstinate. He wanted
her to become the wife of an Esquimau who lived far to
the westward, and who once had dealings with the fur-
traders, and from whom he expected to derive consider-
able advantages and gifts of bits of hoop-iron and nails.
But she wanted to become the giant’s wife—so there the
matter stood.

“The spirits o’ the wind and sea protect us, and may
the god o’ the mist cover us!” said the old man, as the
young Esquimau sat down on a dead seal beside him.
“Ts it true that you saw the men of fire?”

This was, of course said in the language of the
Esquimaux, and we render it as literally as possible.

“Yes, it is true,” replied the young man. “I saw
them at the rapid water in Caniapuscaw, and I took
kayak to bring the news.”

9
130 UNGAVA.

Various exclamations of mingled surprise and anger
escaped from the compressed lips of several stalwart
natives, who had crowded into the tent on hearing of
the arrival of their comrade.

“Yes,” continued the young man, “we must go away
this night. They had fire-tubes, and there were thirty
men. We have only ten.”

Again a murmur ran through the listeners, but no
one spoke for a few seconds.

“Did they see you?” asked the old man, anxiously.

“No. I came on them suddenly, when I was chasing
deer, and almost ran into their camp; but I saw, and
fell in the grass. I thought the chief raised his head
quickly when I feil; but he looked down again, and I
crawled away.”

In this the young Esquimau was mistaken. He
knew little of the craft and the quickness of the red
Indian, and easily fell into the snare of his savage
enemy, who, having been momentarily startled by the
sudden sound of the Esquimau approach, had endeav-
oured to throw him off his guard, by pretending that
although he heard the sound he thought nothing of it.
But no sooner had the Esquimau retired than he was
closely followed and watched by the whole party. They
could have easily shot him. but refrained from doing so,
that he might unwittingly be their guide to the habita-
tions of his people. The rapid flight of his kayak dis-
tanced his pursuers at first, but they made up for this
during an hour or two in the night, when the tired
Esquimau allowed himself a short season of repose to
recruit his energies for the following day’s journey.
During this period the Indians shot far ahead of him,
and when he arrived at the coast next day they were
not much in the rear.
UNGAVA. 131

“ And now, old man,” said our young Esquimau, “it is
time that I should have my wife. If the Allat* come
here to-night, as I know they will, I want to have a
right to defend her, and carry her away when we flee.
Are you willing ?”

The young giant said this with a degree of roughness
and decision that at any other time would have made
the obstinate old grandfather refuse point blank ; but as
there was every probability of having to flee for his life
ere the break of another day, and as his old heart
trembled within him at the thought of the dreaded guns
of the Indians, he merely shook his head and pondered
a little.

“What will you give me?” he said, looking up.

The young man answered by drawing the axe from
his belt and laying it on the ground before him. The
old man’s eyes glistened with pleasure as he surveyed
the costly gift.

“Good; that will do. Take her and go.”

A second bidding was not needed. The young man
arose hastily, took his blushing bride by the hand, and
led her from the tent of her grandfather towards his
own. Here she set to work instantly to assist her hus-
band in hurriedly packing up their goods and chattels ;
and, immediately afterwards, the little village became a
perfect Babel of confusion, as the alarmed inhabitants,
on learning the threatened danger, prepared for instant
flight. In less than an hour the most of them were
ready. The men launched their kayaks, while the
women, having loaded their oomiaks with their goods,
tossed their dogs and children on the top of them.

The oomiak, or women’s boat, is quite a different
affair from the kayak, in which the men travel singly.

* Esquimau name for Indians.
132 UNGAVA.

It is usuaily made large and capacious, in order to hold
the entire household of the Esquimau. Like the kayak
it is made of skin, but has no covering above, and is
propelled by means of short single-bladed paddles, which
are worked by the women, upon whom devolves the
entire care and management of the oomiak. It is a
clumsy affair to look at, but, like the boats of savages
generally, it is uncommonly useful and a good sea-boat.

While the Esquimaux were busied in completing their
arrangements, one of the dogs rushed towards the bushes
that lined the shore just behind the village, and barked
vociferously. Instantly it was joined by the whole
pack, and the Esquimaux, who, ever since they had
heard of the proximity of their Indian foes, were in a
state of the utmost trepidation, made a general rush
towards their canoes. Before they reached them, how-
ever, a volley of musketry was fired from the bushes,
and three of their number—a man and two women—
filled the air with their death-shriek, as they fell dead
upon the beach; while the Indians sprang from their
concealment, and, brandishing their knives and toma-
hawks, rushed with a fearful yell upon the terror-stricken
Hsquimaux.

Shrill and terrible though the Indian war-cry is
proverbially known to be, it was excelled in appalling
wildness by the shriek which arose from the Esquimaux,
as they hurried tumultuously into their canoes and put
off to sea. These poor creatures were naturally brave—
much more so, indeed, than their assailants; but the
murderous effects of the terrible gun caused the sternest
brow among them to blanch and the stoutest heart to
quail. The arrow and the spear, however rapid, could
be avoided if observed in time; but this dreaded im-
plement of destruction was so mysterious to them, and
UNGAVA. 133

its death-dealing bullet so quick, and the smoke, the
fire, and the loud report so awful, that they shuddered
even when they thought of it. No wonder, then, that
they uttered a despairing cry when it actually sounded
in their ears.

When the dogs first gave tongue, our tall Esquimau
was alone in his hut, having just sent his wife down
with a bundle to the oomiak; when the volley rang in
his ears, he rushed towards the beach, supposing that
she was there before him. This was not the case, how-
ever. Aneetka had gone towards her grandfather’s hut,
and when the Indians fired she rushed in to assist him
to fly. But the old man was already gone. Turning
instantly, she sprang nimbly towards the shore. At
that moment a single shot was fired, and she saw her
husband stumble forward and fall headlong to the earth,
where he lay motionless. Her first impulse was to run
towards the body and throw herself upon it; but this
intention was effectually checked by a strong, dark-
skinned arm which encircled her waist, and, despite her
cries and struggles, bore her away into the bushes.
Her captor was the Indian whose gun once before on
that day had been levelled at her lover’s head.

When the young Esquimau fell, as already related, he
was so close to the water that he stumbled into it, and,
fortunately, not a yard distant from an oomiak which
the women were franticly thrusting into the sea. They
had no time to lift so heavy a weight on board, but, as
the light craft darted from the shore, an old woman,
who had often received kind attentions from the good-
natured youth, leant over the stern and seized him by
the hair. In this manner he was dragged through the
water until they were out of gun-shot, when he was
lifted inside and laid beside the dogs and children.
134 UNGAVA.

Meanwhile the Indians had rushed into the water up
to their middle, in the hope of catching the last of the
little fleet, but without success. Mad with disappointed
rage, they waded back to the shore, and, standing in a
line along the edge of the waves, reloaded their guns
with the utmost rapidity. The poor Esquimaux knew
well what would follow, and strained every nerve to
increase their distance. Once more the guns belched
forth their leaden shower, which went skipping over the
water towards the flotilla. Only one kayak was hit by
the discharge. It was that of the old grandfather
already mentioned. The ball ripped up the side of the
canoe, which filled and upset, and the poor old man
would certainly have been drowned but for the oppor-
tune coming up of the oomiak containing his wounded
grandson. The old woman who had already saved the
life of the young giant of the tribe, again put forth her
skinny hand and grasped the patriarch, who was soon
hauled on board in safety. A few minutes more placed
the whole party out of dangev.

In the meantime, the Indians, furious with disappoint-
ment, scalped the three dead bodies and tossed them into
the sea; after which they went into the huts in order
to collect all the valuables that might have been left
behind. Very little, however, was to be found, as the
entire property of an Esquimau is not worth much to a
red man. The most useful thing they laid hands on
was the axe which the old grandfather had left behind
in his hurried flight. Having taken all they could
carry, the savages destroyed the rest, and then, setting
fire to the village, they returned to the bush. Here a
fire was made, and a council of war held.

When the Indian who had captured the Esquimau
girl led her forward towards the fire, there was a general
UNGAVA. 135

yell of indignation. Tomahawks were grasped, and
more than one knife was unsheathed. But the chief
commanded silence.

“What does White Heart mean to do with the Eater-
of-raw-flesh ?” he inquired, turning to the young man.

“He will take her to the hunting-grounds of the
Crees.”

“That cannot be,” said the chief, “The girl must
die, and White Heart must kill her.”

The young man made no reply.

“Tf” continued the chief sarcastically, “White Heart
is afraid to see blood on his knife, another warrior will
show him how to do it!”

As he spoke, a dark-visaged savage drew his scalping-
knife, and, with one stride, stood beside the trembling
girl, who, during the consultation of the savages, had
stood silently beside her captor listening intently to the
words which she did not comprehend.

Seizing her by the shoulder, the savage plunged his
knife at her bosom; but, ere the keen point reached it,
the arm was caught by the young Indian, and the
scowling savage was hurled violently back. With
dilated eye and expanded nostril, the young man, not
deigning to bestow a glance upon his fallen comrade,
turned to his chief and said,—

“Did not I take her? The girl is mine. I will
carry her to my tent and make her my wife.”

“Be it so,” replied the chief abruptly. Then turning
to his followers, he gave orders to start immediately.

In a few minutes all was ready. The chief led the
way into the bush. The Esquimau girl and her captor
followed, and the whole band, silently and in single file,
commenced to retrace their steps to the far distant
hunting-grounds of the Cree Indians.
CHAPTER XIV.

The pursuit—Seal spearing—The giant's despar.

HEN the young Esquimau began to recover from
the lethargic state into which his wound had
thrown him, he found himself lying at the bottom of
the women’s oomiak with his old grandfather by his
side, and a noisy crew of children and dogs around him.
Raising himself on his elbow, he brushed the clotted
blood and hair from his temples, and endeavoured to
recall his scattered faculties. Seeing this, the old crone
who had saved his life laid down her paddle and handed
him a sealskin cup of water, which he seized and drank
with avidity. Fortunately the wound on his forehead,
although it had stunned him severely at first, was trifling,
and in a few minutes after partaking of the cool water,
he recovered sufficiently to sit up and look around him.

Gradually his faculties returned, and he started up
with a troubled look.

“Where are the Allat? Where is my wife?” he
exclaimed vehemently, as his eye fell on the prostrate
form of his still insensible grandfather.

“Gone,” answered several of the women.

“Gone!” repeated the youth, gazing wildly among the
faces around him in search of that of his wife. “Gone!
Tell me, is she in one of the other oomiaks ?”

The women trembled as they answered, “ No.”
UNGAVA. 187

“Have the Allat got her?”

There was no reply to this question, but he did not
need one. Springing like a tiger to the stern of the
oomiak, he seized the steering paddle, and turning the
head of the boat towards the shore, paddled with all
his energy. Nearly two hours had elapsed since they
had commenced their flight, and as all danger of pursuit
was over the moment the Indians turned their backs on
the sea, the Esquimaux had gradually edged in-shore
again, so that a few minutes sufficed to run the prow
of the oomiak on the shingle of the beach. Without
saying a word, the young man sprang over the side,
drew a hunting-spear from the bottom of the boat, and
hurried back in the direction of the deserted village at
the top of his speed. The women knew that nothing
could stop him, and feeling that he was quite able to
take care of himself, they quietly put to sea again, and
continued their voyage.

The limbs of the young Esquimau, as we have
already said, were gigantic and powerful, enabling him
to traverse the country at a pace which few of his
fellows could keep up with; and although a stern-chase
is proverbially a long one, and the distance between
two parties travelling in opposite directions is amazingly
increased in a short space of time, there is no doubt
that he would have overtaken his Indian foes ere many
hours had passed, but for the wound in his head, which,
although not dangerous, compelled him more than once
to halt and sit down, in order to prevent himself from
falling into a swoon. Hunger had also something to
do with this state of weakness, as he had eaten nothing
for many hours. In his hasty departure from the boat,
however, he had neglected to take any provisions with
him, so that he had little hope of obtaining refreshment
138 UNGAVA.

before arriving at the village, where some scraps might
perhaps be picked up.

Slowly, and with a reeling brain, he staggered on;
but here no relief awaited him, for every scrap of food
had been either taken away or destroyed by the Indians,
and it was with a heavy sigh and a feeling akin to
despair that he sat down beside the blackened: ruins of
his late home.

But Esquimaux, more than other men, are accustomed
to reverses of fortune, and the sigh with which he
regarded the ruins of his hut had no reference whatever
to the absence of food. He knew that about this time
the mouth of the river would be full of ice, carried up
by the flood-tide, and that seals would, in all probability,
be found on it; so he started up, and hastening along
the beach soon gained the floes, which he examined
carefully. A glance or two sufficed to show him that
he was right in his conjecture. On a sheet of ice not
more than a couple of hundred yards from shore were
two seals fast asleep. These he prepared to stalk.
Between the floe and the shore ran a stream of water
twenty yards broad. Over this he ferried himself on
a lump of loose ice; and, on reaching the floe, he went
down on his hands and knees, holding the spear in his
right hand as he advanced cautiously towards his
victim.

The Esquimau seal-spear is a curious weapon, and
exhibits in a high degree the extraordinary ingenuity
of the race. The handle is sometimes made of the horn
of the narwal, but more frequently of wood. It has
a movable head or barb, to which a long line of walrus
hide or sealskin is attached. This barb is made of
ivory tipped with iron, and is attached to the handle in
such a way that it becomes detached from it the instant
UNGAVA. 139

the animal is struck, and remains firmly imbedded in
the wound with the line fastened to it, while the handle
floats away on the water or falls on the ice, as the case
may be.

When the Esquimau had approached to within a
hundred yards, he lay down at full length and slowly
worked himself forward. Meanwhile the seals raised
their heads, but seeing, as they imagined, a companion
coming towards them, they did not make for their holes,
which were a few yards distant from them. Having
drawn near enough to render the animals suspicious,
the young giant now sprang up, rushed forward, and
got between one seal and its hole just as its more active
companion dived into the water. In another moment
the deadly lance transfixed its side and killed it. This
was a fortunate supply to the Esquimau, whose powers
of endurance were fast failing. He immediately sat
down on his victim, and cutting a large steak from its
side, speedily made a meal that far exceeded the powers
of any alderman whatsoever! It required but a short
time to accomplish, however, and a shorter time to
transfer several choice junks to his wallet; with which
replenished store he resumed his journey.

Although the man’s vigour was restored for a time,
so that he travelled with great speed, it did not last
long, owing to the wound in his head, which produced
frequent attacks of giddiness, and at last compelled him,
much against his will, to halt for a couple of hours’
repose. Glancing round, in order to select a suitable
camping ground, he soon observed such a spot in the
form of a broad overhanging ledge of rock, beneath
which there was a patch of scrubby underwood. Here
he lay down with the seal blubber for a pillow, and
was quickly buried in deep, untroubled slumber. In
140 UNGAVA.

little more than two hours he awoke with a start, and,
after a second application to the contents of the wallet,
resumed his solitary march. The short rest seemed to
have quite restored his wonted vigour, for he now stalked
up the banks of the river at a rate which seemed only
to accelerate as he advanced. As has been already said,
these banks were both rugged and precipitous. In some
places the rocks jutted out into the water, forming
promontories over which it was difficult to climb; and
frequently these capes terminated in abrupt precipices,
necessitating a detour in order to advance. In other
places the coast was indented with sandy bays, which
more than doubled the distance the traveller would have
had to accomplish had he possessed a kayak. Unfortu-
nately in his hasty departure he neglected to take one
with him; but he did his best to atone for this oversight
by making almost superhuman exertions. He strode
over the sands like an ostrich of the desert, and clambered
up the cliffs and over the rocks—looking, in his hairy
garments, like a shaggy polar bear. The thought of
his young and pretty bride a captive in the hands of
his bitterest foes, and doomed to a life of slavery, almost
maddened him, and caused his dark eye to flash and his
broad bosom to heave with pent-up emotion, while it
spurred him on to put forth exertions that were far
' beyond the powers of any member of his tribe, and
could not, under less exciting circumstances, have been
performed even by himself. As to what were his
intentions should he overtake the Indians, he knew not.
The agitation of his spirits, combined with the influence
of his wound, induced him to act from impulse; and
the wild tumult of his feelings prevented him from
calculating the consequences or perceiving the hope-
lessness of an attack made by one man, armed only
UNGAVA. 141

with knife and spear, against a body of Indians who
possessed the deadly gun.

Alas! for the sorrows of the poor human race.
In all Jands they are much the same, whether civilized
or savage—virtue and vice alternately triumphing.
Bravery, candour, heroism, in fierce contest with
treachery, cowardice, and malevolence, form the salient
points of the record among all nations, and in all ages.
No puissant knight of old ever buckled on his panoply
of mail, seized his sword and lance, mounted his charger,
and sallied forth single-handed to deliver his mistress
from enchanted castle, in the face of appalling perils,
with hotter haste or a more thorough contempt of
danger than did our Esquimau giant pursue the Indians
who had captured his bride; but, like many a daring
spirit of romance, the giant failed, and that through no
fault of his.

On arriving at the rocky platform beside the spring
where we first introduced him to the reader, the
Esquimau sat down, and, casting his spear on the ground,
gazed around him with a look of despair. It was not
a slight matter that caused this feeling to arise. Not-
withstanding his utmost exertions, he had been unable
to overtake the Indians up to this point, and beyond
this point it was useless to follow them. The mountains
here were divided into several distinct gorges, each of
which led into the interior of the country; and it was
impossible to ascertain which of these had been taken
by the Indians, as the bare rocky land retained no
mark of their light moccasined feet. Had the pursuer
been an Indian, the well-known sagacity of the race in
following a trail, however slight, might have enabled
him to trace the route of the party; but the Esquimaux
are unpractised in this stealthy, dog-like quality.
142 UNGAVA.

Their habits and the requirements of their condition
render it almost unnecessary; so that, in difficult cir-
cumstances, their sagacity in this respect is not equal
to the emergency. Add to this the partial confusion
created in the young giant’s brain by his wound, and
it will not appear strange that despair at length seized
him, when, after a severe journey, he arrived at a spot
where, as it were, half-a-dozen cross-roads met, and he
had not the most distant idea which he ought to follow.
It is true the valley of the river seemed the most
probable route; but after pursuing this for a whole
day without coming upon a vestige of the party, he
gave up the pursuit, and, returning to the spring beside
the rock, passed the night there with a heavy heart.
When the sun rose on the following morning he quitted
his lair, and, taking a long draught at the bubbling
spring, prepared to depart. Before setting out, he cast
a melancholy glance around the amphitheatre of gloomy
hills; shook his spear, in the bitterness of his heart,
towards the dark recesses which had swallowed up the
light of his eyes, perchance for ever; then, turning
slowly towards the north, with drooping head, and with
the listless tread of a heart-broken man, he retraced his
steps to the sea-coast, and, rejoining his comrades, was
soon far away from the banks of the Caniapuscaw River.
CHAPTER XV.

Lind of the voyage—Plans and prospects—Exploring partves sent out.

HREE weeks after the departure of the Esquimaux
from the neighbourhood of Ungava Bay, the
echoes of these solitudes were awakened by the merry
song of the Canadian voyageurs, as the two canoes of
Stanley and his comrades swept down the stream and
approached the spring at the foot of the flat rock.

As the large canoe ran its bow lightly on the sand,
the first man who leaped ashore was La Roche. He
seemed even more sprightly and active than formerly,
but was a good deal darker in complexion, and much
travel-stained. Indeed, the whole party bore marks of
having roughed it pretty severely for some time past
among the mountains. Edith’s face was decidedly
darker than when she left Moose, and her short frock
considerably shorter in consequence of tear and wear.

“Bad luck to ye, Losh! Out o’ the way, an’ let yer
betters land before ye,” exclaimed Bryan, as he jumped
into the water, and dragged the canoe towards the
beach.

The only marks that rough travelling had put on
Bryan were one or two additional wrinkles in his bat-
tered white hat; as for his face, it was already so thor-
oughly bronzed by long exposure, that a week or two
more or less made no difference in its hue.
144 UNGAVA.

“Jump into my arms, Miss Edith,” said Francois, as
he stood in the water beside the canoe.

“Steady, boy; mind the gum,” cried Massan, as Ooli-
buck strained the canoe roughly in shouldering a package.

“ Look out ashore, there,” cried Dick Prince, throwing
the tent poles on the beach as he spoke.

Regardless of the warning, Gaspard did not “look
out,” and received a rap on the leg from one of the
poles, whereat he growled savagely, and threw down a
sack, which rested on his shoulder, so violently that it
nearly knocked over Ma-istequan, who was passing at
the time with the camp-kettle in his hand.

“What an ould buffalo it is!” exclaimed Bryan,
pushing Gaspard rudely aside with his left shoulder,
and hitching off La Roche’s cap with his right, as he

sprang back to the canoe for another load. “ Pardonay
mwa, Losh, may garson,” he exclaimed, with a broad
grin. “Now thin, boys, out wid the fixin’s. Faix it’s

mysilf is plazed to git ashore anyhow, for there’s nothin’
gone into my intarior since brickfust this mornin’.”

At this moment the bow of the other canoe grated
on the sand, and Frank Morton leaped ashore.

“Capital place to camp, Frank,” said Stanley, who
had just finished pitching the tent on the scrimp herbage
that forced its way through the sand. “There’s a
splendid spring of pure water below yonder rock. I’ve
just left my wife and Eda busy with the tea-cups, and
La Roche preventing them from getting things ready,
by way of helping them.”

“Tt does indeed seem a good place,” replied Frank,
“and might do for temporary head-quarters, perhaps,
while we make excursions to the coast to fix on a spot
for our new home.”

Stanley gazed contemplatively around him as his
UNGAVA. 145

friend spoke. “Hand me the telescope, Frank; it
strikes me we are nearer the sea than you think. The
water here is brackish, and yonder opening in the
mountains might reveal something beyond, if magnified
by the glass.”

After a lengthened survey of the surrounding hills,
Frank and Stanley came to the conclusion that they
could make nothing of it, at least that night; and as it
was becoming gradually dark, they resolved to postpone
all further consideration of the subject till the next day.

Meanwhile, the men busied themselves in preparing
supper, and Chimo unexpectedly lent them some assist-
ance by bringing into camp a ptarmigan which he had
just killed. True, Chimo had, in his innocence, designed
this little delicacy of the season for his own special
table ; but no sooner was he seen with the bird between
his teeth, than it was snatched from him and transferred
to the pot forthwith.

The following day was an era in the existence of the
travellers. For the first time since commencing their
arduous voyage, the cargoes were left behind, and the
canoes paddled away, light and buoyant, on a trip of
investigation. Stanley had rightly judged that they
were now near the sea, and the great breadth of the
river led him to believe that there might be water suffi-
cient to float the vessel in which the goods for the
station were to be forwarded. If this should turn out
as he expected, there could not be a better spot for
establishing a fort than that on which they had en-
camped, as it was situated just below the last rapids of
the river; had a fine spring of fresh water in its vicinity ;
and was protected from the cold blasts of winter, to
some extent at least, by the surrounding mountains.

“Now, Frank,” added Mr. Stanley, after stating his

10
146 UNGAVA.

opinion on this point, “what I mean to do is this: I
shall take the large canoe, with Dick Prince, Frangois,
Gaspard, La Roche, and Augustus—the last to interpret
should we fall in with Esquimaux, whom I am surprised
not to have found hereabouts. With these I will pro-
ceed to the sea, examine the coast, observe whether
there be any place suitable for building on, and, if all goes
well, be back to supper before sunset. You will take
the other canoe, with Bryan, Massan, Oolibuck, and Ma-
istequan, and proceed down the opposite side of the
river a short way. Examine the shores there, and above
the island ; see whether there be any place better than
where we stand for a permanent residence; and at
night we shall compare notes. My wife and Eda shall
remain in camp under the care of Oostesimow and Moses.”

“And pray who is to defend your poor wife and
innocent child in the event of an attack by a band of
savage natives?” inquired Mrs. Stanley, as she joined
her husband and Frank.

“No fear of the wife and child,” replied Stanley,
patting his better half on the shoulder. “If Indians
should find out the camp, Oostesimow can palaver with
them; and should Esquimaux pay you a visit, Moses
will do the polite. Besides, had you not interrupted, I
was going to have given special instructions to Frank
regarding you. So, Master Frank, be pleased to take
Kda off your shoulder, and give ear to my instructions.
While you are examining the other side of the water,
you will keep as much as possible within eye-shot, and
always within ear-shot, of the camp. In a still day
like this a gun-shot can be heard five or six miles off;
and should you see any sign of the natives having been
here recently, return instantly to the camp.”

Frank promised implicit obedience to these instruc-
UNGAVA. 147

tions, and the whole party then set to work to pile the
goods on a ledge in the steep cliffs behind the spring, so
that a fortress was soon formed, which, with two such
stout and courageous men as Moses and Oostesimow,
armed with two guns each, a brace of pistols, two cut-
lasses, and an ample supply of ammunition, could have
stood a prolonged siege from much more practised ene-
mies than Indians or Esquimaux. After having com-
pleted these defensive arrangements, and provided occu-
pation for those who remained in camp, by laying on
them the duty of having the goods examined, in order
to see that nothing had been damaged by wet or rough
usage, the two canoes pushed from the shore, and bounded
lightly away, while the men sang merrily at their easy
labour; for now that the canoes were light, they might
have been propelled by two men. Frank directed his
course obliquely up the river, towards the island already
alluded to, and Stanley proceeded with the current to-
wards the narrows beyond which he expected to catch
sight of the sea.

After passing above the island, which was found to
be low and thinly covered with vegetation and a few
serubby bushes, Frank and his men pushed over to the
other side and proceeded carefully to examine the coast.
It was found to be much the same as that which they
had just left. A narrow belt of sandy and shingly
beach extended along the margin of the river, or, as it
might be more appropriately termed, the lake, at least
in as far as appearance went. This strip or belt was
indented here and there with numerous bays and inlets,
and in many places was intersected by rocky capes
which jutted out from the mountains. These mountains
were bare and precipitous, rising abruptly, like those on
the other side, from the edge of the sand, and ascending
148 UNGAVA.

in a succession of terraces, whose faces were so steep
that it was almost impossible to scale them. They
could be ascended in succession, however, by means of
the ravines and numerous gullies which rose in rugged
and zigzag lines from the beach to the mountain tops.
In the very first of these gullies in which the exploring
party landed, they found the remains of an Esquimau
summer encampment. These consisted of a few stunted
trees, which appeared to have been built in the form of
rude huts; but they were thrown about in some con-
fusion, and altogether bore evidence of having remained
in a state of ruin for many years. Another discovery
of a more satisfactory kind was made—namely, the
tracks of deer, which were so fresh as to induce Frank
to take his rifle and mount the ravine in search of the
animals, accompanied by Massan, whose natural tem-
perament was exceedingly prone to enjoy the excitement
of the chase. So much, indeed, was this the case, that
the worthy guide had more than once been on the point
of making up his mind to elope to the backwood settle-
ments of the States, purchase a rifle and ammunition
there, don a deerskin hunting-shirt, and “make tracks,”
as he styled it, for the prairies, there to dwell and hunt
until his eye refused to draw the sight and his finger -
to pull the trigger of a Kentucky rifle. But Massan’s
sociable disposition came in, the way of this plan, and
the thought of leading a solitary life always induced
him to forego it.

“Ts my pinion, sir,” remarked the guide, as he fol-
lowed Frank up the ravine, the sheltered parts of
which were covered with a few clumps of stunted pines
—“it’s my ’pinion that we'll have to cut our logs a long
bit up the river, for there’s nothin’ fit to raise a fort
with hereabouts.”
UNGAVA. 149

“True, Massan,” replied Frank, glancing from side to
side, hunter fashion, as he walked swiftly over the
broken ground; “there’s not a tree that I can see big
enough to build a backwoods shanty with.”

“Well, master, ’twill do for firewood, if it’s fit for
nothin’ else, and that’s a blessin’ that’s not always to
be comed by everywhere. Let’s be thankful for small
matters. I see sticks growin’ up them gullies that'll
do for stakes for the nets, an’ axe handles, an’ paddles,
an’ spear shafts, an’—”

The honest guide’s enumeration of the various articles
into which the small timber of the place might be con-
verted was brought to a sudden pause by Frank, who
laid his hand on his shoulder, and while he pointed with
the butt of his rifle up the ravine, whispered, “Don’t
you see anything else up yonder besides trees, Massan ?”

The guide looked in the direction indicated, and by
an expressive grunt showed that his eye had fallen on
the object referred to by his companion. It was a deer
which stood on an overhanging ledge of rock, high up
the cliffs—so high that it might easily have been mis-
taken for a much smaller animal by less practised sports-
men. Below the shelf on which it stood was a yawning
abyss, which rendered any attempt to get near the
animal utterly hopeless.

“What a pity,’ said Frank, as he crouched behind a
projecting rock, “that it’s out of shot. It would take
us an hour at least to get behind it, and there’s little
chance, I fear, of its waiting for us.”

“No chance whatever,” replied Massan decidedly.
“But he’s big enough to cover from where we stand.”

“To cover! Ay, truly, I could point straight at his
heart easy enough—indeed I would think it but slight
boasting to say I could cover his eye from this spot:
150 UNGAVA.

but the bullet would refuse to go, Massan; it’s far be-
yond shot.”

“Try, sir, try,” exclaimed the guide quickly, for as
they spoke the deer moved. “I’ve been huntin’ on the
Rocky Mountains afore now, an’ I know that distance
cheats you in sich places. It’s not so far as you think—”

He had scarcely finished speaking when Frank’s rifle
poured forth its contents. The loud echoes of the crags
reverberated as the smoke floated away to leeward.
The next instant the deer sprang with one wild bound
high into the air—over the cliff—and descending with
lightning speed through the dark space, was dashed
almost in pieces on the rocks below.

Massan gave a low chuckle of satisfaction as he
walked up to the mangled animal, and pointing to a
small round hole just over its heart, he said, “The old
spot, Mr. Frank; ye always hit them there.”

Having paid Frank this compliment, Massan bled the
animal, which was in prime condition, with at least two
inches of fat on his flanks, and having placed it on his
shoulders, returned with his companion to the canoe.

While Frank was thus engaged, Stanley had descended
towards the shores of Ungava Bay, which he found to
be above twenty-five miles distant from the encamp-
ment beside the spring. He made a rapid survey of
the coast as they descended, and sounded the river at
intervals. When he reached its mouth he had made
two important discoveries. The one was that there did
not seem to be a spot along the whole line of coast so
well fitted in all respects for an establishment as the
place whereon their tents were already pitched, The
other was, that the river, from its mouth up to that
point, was deep enough to float a vessel of at least
three or four hundred tons burden. This was very
UNGAVA. 151

satisfactory, and he was about to return to the camp
when he came upon the deserted Esquimau village
which, a few weeks before, had been the scene of a
murderous attack and a hasty flight. On a careful
examination of the place, the marks of a hasty departure
were so apparent that Stanley and his men made a
pretty near guess at the true state of affairs; and the
former rightly conjectured that, having made a pre-
cipitate flight in consequence of some unexpected attack,
there was little probability of their returning soon to
the same locality. This was unfortunate, but in the
hope that he might be mistaken in these conjectures,
and that the natives might yet return before winter,
he set up a pole on a conspicuous place, and tied to the
top of it a bag containing two dozen knives, one dozen
fire-steels, some awls and needles, several pounds of
beads, and a variety of such trinkets as were most
likely to prove acceptable to a savage people.

While Bryan was engaged in piling a heap of stones
at the foot of this pole to prevent its being blown down
by the wind, the rest of the party re-embarked, and
prepared to return home; for although the camp beside
the spring was scarcely one day old, the fact that it was
likely to become the future residence of the little party
had already invested it with a species of home-like
attraction. Man is a strange animal, and whatever un-
travelled philosophers may say to the contrary, he speed-
ily makes himself “at home” anywhere !

“Hallo, Bryan!” shouted Stanley from the canoe,
“look sharp; we’re waiting for you!”

“Ay, ay, yer honour,” replied the Irishman, lifting a
huge mass of rock; “jist wan more, an’ it'll be stiff an’
stidy as the north pole himself.” Then in an undertone
he added, “‘ Look sharp,’ is it ye say? It’s blunt ye
152 UNGAVA.

are to spake that way to yer betters. Musha! but it’s
mysilf wouldn't give a tinpinny for all that bag houlds,
twinty times doubled; an’ yit thim haythens, thim
pork-faced Huskimos, Il dance round this here pole wi’
delight till they're fit to dhrop. Och! but salvages is
a quare lot; an’, Bryan, yer a cliver boy to come this
far all the way to see thim.”

With this self-complimentary conclusion, Bryan re-
sumed his place at the paddle, and the party returned
to the camp.

Here they found things in a most satisfactory state.
Frank and his party had returned, and the deer, now
cut up into joints and steaks, was impaled on a number
of stakes of wood, and stuck up to roast round a large
and cheering fire. The savoury steam from these, with
the refreshing odour of the tea-kettle, produced a delect-
able sensation in the nostrils of the hungry explorers.
Stanley’s tent was erected with its back towards the
mountains and its open door towards the fire, which
lighted up its snug interior, and revealed Mrs. Stanley
and Edith immersed in culinary operations, and Chimo
watching them with a look of deep, grave sagacity—
his ears very erect, and his head a good deal inclined
to one side, as if that position favoured the peculiar
train of his cogitations. La Roche was performing feats
of agility round the fire, that led one to believe he must
be at least half a salamander. At a respectful distance
from Stanley’s tent, but within the influence of the
fire, the men were employed in pitching, for the first
time, the large skin tent which was to be their residence
until they should build a house for themselves; and on
a log, within dangerous proximity to the mercurial La
Roche, sat Frank Morton, busily employed in entering
in his journal the various events of the day.
UNGAVA. 153

There was much talk and loud laughter round the
fire that night, for the different parties had much to tell
and much to hear regarding the discoveries that had
been made, and discussions as to the prospects of the
expedition were earnest and long. It was generally
admitted that first appearances were, upon the whole,
favourable, although it could not be denied that the
place looked dreadfully barren and rugged. Under the
happy influence of this impression, and the happier in-
fluence of the savoury steaks on which they had supped,
the entire party lay down to rest, and slept so pro-
foundly that there was neither sound nor motion to
indicate the presence of human beings in the vast soli-
tudes of Ungava, save the fitful flame of the fire as it
rose and fell, casting a lurid light on the base of the
rugged mountains, and a sharp reflection on the dark
waters.
CHAPTER XVI.

Resources of the country begin to develop—Bryan distinguishes himself—
Fishing extraordinary.

HERE is a calm but deep-seated and powerful
pleasure which fills the heart, and seems to per-
meate the entire being, when one awakens to the con-
viction that a day of arduous toil is about to begin—
toil of an uncertain kind, perhaps connected with danger
and adventure, in an unexplored region of the earth.
Ignorance always paints coming events in glowing
colours; and the mere fact that our adventurers knew
not the nature of the country in which their tent was
pitched—knew not whether the natives would receive
them as friends or repel them as foes—knew not whether
the nature and capabilities of the country were such as
would be likely to convert the spot on which they lay
into a comfortable home or a premature grave ;—the
mere fact of being utterly ignorant on these points was,
in itself, sufficient to fill the poorest spirit of the band
(had there been a poor spirit among them) with a glow
_ of pleasurable excitement, and a firm resolve to tax
their powers of doing and suffering to the uttermost.
When the sun rose on the following morning the
whole party was astir, the fire lighted, and an early break-
fast in course of preparation. Much had: to be done,
and it behoved them to set about it with energy, and at
UNGAVA. 155

once, for the short autumn of these arctic regions was
drawing on apace, and a winter of great length and of
the utmost severity lay before them.

There was also one consideration which caused some
anxiety to Stanley and Frank, although it weighed little
on the reckless spirits of the men, and this was the
possibility of the non-arrival of the ship with their
winter supply of provisions and goods for trade. With-
out such a supply.a winter on the shores of Ungava
Bay would involve all the hardships and extreme perils
that too often fall to the lot of arctic discoverers; and
he who has perused the fascinating journals of those
gallant men, knows that these hardships and perils are
neither few nor light. The leaders of the expedition
were not, indeed, men to anticipate evils, or to feel
unduly anxious about possible dangers; but they would
have been more or less than human had they been able
to look at Mrs. Stanley and little Edith without a feeling
of anxiety on their account. This thought, however,
did not influence them in their actions; or, if it did, it
only spurred them on to more prompt and vigorous
exertions in the carrying out of their undertaking.

After breakfast Stanley assembled his men, and gave
each special directions what to do. One of the most
important points to ascertain was whether there were
many fish in the river. On this hung much of the
future comfort and well-being, perhaps even the exist-
ence, of the party. Gaspard was, therefore, ordered to
get oub his nets and set them opposite the encamp-
ment. Oolibuck, being officially an interpreter of the
Esquimau language, and, when not employed in his
calling, regarded as a sort of male maid-of-all-work, was
ordered to assist Gaspard. The next matter of primary
importance was to ascertain what animals inhabited the
156 UNGAVA.

region, and whether they were numerous. Dick Prince,
being the recognized hunter of the party, was directed
to take his gun and a large supply of ammunition, and
sally forth over the mountains in search of game; and
as Massan was a special friend of his, a good shot, and,
moreover, a sagacious fellow, he was ordered to accom-
pany him. They were also directed to observe par-
ticularly the state of the woods and the quality of the
timber growing therein ; but as this last required special
attention, the style and size of the future fort being
dependent on it, Francois, the carpenter, was appointed
to make a journey of observation up the Caniapuscaw
River, in company with Augustus the Esquimau and
Ma-istequan the Indian —it being thought probable
that if natives were to be met with at all, they would
be on the banks of the river rather than in the moun-
tains. It was further arranged that Frank Morton
should ascend the mountains in company with Bryan,
and ascertain if there were any lakes, and whether or
not they contained fish. As for Mr. Stanley, he resolved
to remain by the camp. On entering his tent after
despatching the several parties, he said to his wife,—

“Tm going to stay by you to-day, Jessie. All the
men, except Moses, Oostesimow, Gaspard, and La Roche,
are sent off to hunt and fish in the mountains, and I
have kept these four to paddle about this neighbour-
hood, in order to take soundings and examine the coast
more carefully; because, you see, it would be an un-
fortunate thing if we began our establishment in a place
not well suited for it.”

Mrs. Stanley and Edith were, of course, quite pleased
with this arrangersent, and while the males of the
party were absent, the former employed herself in dress-
ing the skin of the deer that had been shot the day
UNGAVA. 157

before. She accomplished this after the Indian fashion,
by scraping and rubbing it with the animal’s brains.
Afterwards she smoked it over a fire of green wood,
and in this way produced a soft, pliant substance
similar to chamois leather, but coarser and stouter. As
for Edith, she rambled at will among the bushes of the
nearest ravine, under the faithful guardianship of Chimo,
and hurried back to the camp almost every hour, laden
with cloudberries, cranberries, blaeberries, and crow-
berries, which grew in profusion everywhere.

Opposite to the camp the water was found to be
eight fathoms deep. This was of great importance, as
affording facility for unloading the ship abreast of the
establishment. Higher up the river the ground was
more favourable for building, both on account of its
being more sheltered and better wooded with timber
fit for the construction of houses; but the water was
too shallow to float the ship, and the island before
mentioned, which was named Cross Island, proved an
effectual barrier to the upward progress of any craft
larger than a boat. But as Stanley surveyed the spot
on which the tent was pitched, and observed the
sheltering background of mountains, with their succession
of terraces; the creek or ravine to the right, with its
growth of willows and stunted pines; the level parcel
of green-sward, with the little fountain under the rock ;
and the fine sandy bay in which Gaspard and Oolibuck
were busily engaged in setting a couple of nets——when
he surveyed all this, he felt that, although not the best
locality in the neighbourhood, it was, nevertheless, a
very good one, and well suited in many respects for
the future establishment.

“ Please, sir, the net him set,” shouted Oolibuck from
the shore to his master, who floated in the bay at the
158 UNGAVA.

distance of a hundred yards, busily engaged with the sound-
ing-line. On receiving this piece of information, Stanley
ran the canoe on the beach, and said to his follower,—

“Oolibuck, I have been thinking much about that
river which we saw yesterday, off the mouth of this one;
and I cannot help fearing that the ship will run into it,
instead of into this, for the land is very deceptive.”

“Me tink dat is true,’ answered the Esquimau, with
a look of grave perplexity. “If de ship go into dat
rivr he tink we no arrive, and so he go "way, and
we all starve!”

“Nay, Oolibuck, I trust that such would not be the
sad result of the ship failing to find us; but in order to
prevent this, if possible, I intend to send you down to
the coast, with a few days’ provisions, to keep a look-
out for the ship, and light a fire if you sce her, so that
she may be guided to the right place. So get a blanket
and your gun as fast as you can, and be off. I can only
afford you four days’ provisions, Oolibuck, so you will
have to prove yourself a good hunter, else you'll starve.
Will four days’ provisions do?”

Oolibuck’s eyes disappeared. We do not mean to
say that they flew away, or were annihilated. But
Oolibuck was fat—so fat that, when he laughed, his
eyes reduced themselves into two little lines surrounded
by wrinkles, a result which was caused by a physical
incapacity to open the mouth and eyes at the same time.
As a general rule, when Oolibuck’s mouth was open his
eyes were shut, and when his eyes were open his mouth
was shut. Being a good-humoured fellow, and of a
risible nature, the alternations were frequent. It was
the idea of Stanley doubting the sufficiency of four days’
provisions that closed the eyes of the Esquimau on the
present occasion.
UNGAVA. 159

“Two days’ grub more dan ‘nuff,’ said Oolibuck.
“Give me plenty powder and shot, and me no starve—
no fear.”

“Very well,” rejoined Stanley, laughing, “take as
much ammunition as you require, but be careful of it;
if the ship fails us we shall need it all. And don’t be
too eager after the deer, Oolibuck; keep a sharp look-
out seaward, be on the hill-tops as much as you can,
and keep your eyes open.”

Oolibuck replied by closing the said eyes with a smile,
as he hurried towards the tent to prepare for his expe-
dition, In the meantime Stanley directed Oostesimow
and La Roche to set about building a small canoe out
of the birch bark which they had carried with them for
the purpose, the large canoes being too cumbrous for
the purpose of overhauling the nets.

The nets had been set by Gaspard in the usual way
—that is, with stones attached to the lower lines to act
ag sinkers, and floats attached to the upper lines to keep
them spread; and it was with no little impatience that
the party in the camp awaited the issue. Indeed they
scarcely permitted an hour to pass without an inspection
being ordered; but to their chagrin, instead of finding
fish, they found the nets rolled up by the conflicting
currents of the river and the tide into the form of

two ropes.
“This will never do,” cried Stanley, as they brought
the nets ashore. “We must set stake-nets immediately.

It is nearly low tide now, so if we work hard they
may be ready to set up before the tide has risen much.”

In pursuance of this plan, Stanley and his men went
to the ravine, of which mention has been already made,
and proceeded to cut stakes for the nets; while Oolibuck,
having explained to Mrs. Stanley and Edith that he was
160 UNGAVA.

“going to look hout for de ship,” shouldered his wallet
and gun, and ascending the ravine, speedily gained the
first terrace of the mountains, along which he hastened
in the direction of the sea-coast.

While the party in the camp were thus engaged,
Frank Morton and Bryan instituted a thorough in-
vestigation of the country that lay directly in the rear
of the camp, in the course of which investigation they
made sundry interesting discoveries.

After ascending the ravine in which we left Stanley
and his men cutting stakes for the nets, Frank and
Bryan reached the first terrace, and proceeded along it
in the opposite direction from that pursued by Oolibuck.
A walk of a quarter of a mile, or less, brought them to
another ravine, into which they turned, and the first
thing that greeted them as they pushed their way
through the stunted willows that thickly covered this
gorge in the mountains was a covey of ptarmigan.
These birds are similar in form and size to ordinary
grouse, perhaps a little smaller. In winter they are
pure white—so white that it is difficult to detect them
amid the snow; but in summer their coats become brown,
though there are a few of the pure white feathers left
which never change their colour. Being unaccustomed
to the sight of man, they stood gazing at Frank and
Bryan in mute surprise, until the latter hastily threw
forward his gun, when they wisely took to flight. But
Frank arrested his follower’s arm.

“Don’t waste your powder and shot, Bryan, on such
small game. There may be something more worthy of
a shot among the mountains; and if you once raise the
echoes among these wild cliffs, I fear the game will not
wait to inquire the cause thereof.”

“Maybe not, sir,” replied Bryan, as he fell back a
UNGAVA. 161

pace, and permitted Frank to lead the way; “but there’s
an ould proverb that says, ‘A bird in the hand’s worth
two in the buss, an’ I’ve great belaif in that same.”

“Very true, Bryan, there is much wisdom in old pro-
verbs; but there are exceptions to every rule, and this is
a case in point, as you will admit if you cast your eyes
over yonder valley, and observe the edge of the moun-
tain top that cuts so clear a line against the sky.”

Frank pointed, as he spoke, to the shoulder or spur
of one of the mountains which rose at a considerable
distance in the interior, and from which they were
separated by a dark glen or gorge; for none of the
yavines in this part of the country merited the name of
valley, save that through which flowed the Caniapuscaw
River. The ravine up which they had been toiling for
some time led into this darksome glen, and it was on
rounding a bold precipice, which had hitherto concealed
it from view, that Frank’s quick eye caught sight of
the object to which he directed the attention of his
companion.

“Tis a crow,” said Bryan, after a gaze of five minutes,
during which he had gone through a variety of strange
contortions—screwing up his features, shading his eyes
with his hand, standing on tip-toe, although there was
nothing to look over, and stooping low, with a hand on
each knee, though there was nothing to look under, in
the vain hope to increase by these means his power
of vision.

Frank regarded him with a quiet smile, as he said,
“Look again, Bryan. Saw you ever a crow with
antlers ?” :

“ Anthlers!” exclaimed the Irishman, once more
wrinkling up his expressive face, and peering under
his palm; “anthlers, say you? Sorra a thing duv I

11
162 UNGAVA.

see ’xcept a black spot on the sky. If ye see anthlers
on it, ye’re nothin’ more nor less than a walkin’ spy-
glass.”

“ Nevertheless I see them, Bryan; and they grace the
head of a noble buck. Now, you see, it is well you did
not fire at the ptarmigan. Away with you, lad, down
into that ravine, and clamber up the mountain through
yonder gap with the fallen rock in the middle of it—
d’ye see ?—and wait there, lest the deer should turn
back. In the meantime, Ill run round by the way we
came, and descend to the water's edge, to receive him
when he arrives there. Now don’t lose yourself, and
take care not to fire at smaller game.”

As Frank concluded these orders, which he issued in
a quick low voice, he threw his gun into the hollow of
his left arm and strode rapidly away, leaving his com-
panion gazing after him with an expression of blank
stupidity on his face. Gradually his cheeks and brow
were overspread with a thousand wrinkles, and a smile
took possession of his lips.

“Don’t lose yersilf!’ Faix, Master Frank, ye’re
free an’ aisy. Arrah now, Bryan dear, don’t lose
yersilf ; you that’s crossed the salt saes, an’ followed
the Red Injins to the prairie, and hunted in the Rocky
Mountains, and found yer way to Ungava—not to
mintion havin’ comed oraginally from ould Ireland—
which ov itsilf secures ye agin mistakes of every kind
whatsumdiver, Lose yersilf! Musha, but ye had
better git some wan to look after ye, Bryan boy. Take
care now; go softly and kape yer eyes open, for fear
ye lose yersilf !”

As Bryan mumbled forth this bantering soliloquy, he
lifted up a large bag which contained a couple of fishing-
lines and a few hooks, and throwing it across the stock
UNGAVA. 163

of his gun, and both across his shoulder, he took his
way down the rugged but well-beaten deer-path which
led to the ravine or glen. The idea of losing himself
seemed to have taken such a hold of Bryan’s mind, and
afforded him so much amusement and such scope for
the continued flow of bantering soliloquy to which he
was in truth much addicted, that he failed to note the
fact that he was walking along the edge of a steep
declivity, at the foot of which lay a small dark sheet
of water, which was connected by a short river or strait
with a larger lake, whose wavelets rippled at the base
of the mountain beyond. ‘The scene was magnificently
wild and lonely, and would have rivetted the attention
and excited the admiration of any one less absent than
Bryan. High, rugged, and to all appearance inaccessible
mountains surrounded the vale on all sides; and although
there were several outlets from it, these were so con-
cealed by the peculiar formation of the wild mountains
that they could not be seen until they were actually
entered.

Had Bryan’s eyes been more active he would have
seen that the fringe of bushes by the side of the deer-
track, along which he walked, concealed a declivity so
steep that it almost merited the name of a precipice.
But Bryan was lost in philosophic contemplation, and the
first thing that awakened him to the fact was the slip-
ping of a stone, which caused him to trip and fall head-
long over the bank! The Irishman grasped convulsively
at the bushes to arrest his fall, but the impetus with
which he had commenced the descent tore them from
his grasp, and after one or two unpleasant bounds and
a4 good deal of crashing through shrubs that tore his
garments sadly, he found himself stretched at full length
on the margin of the river that connected the two lakes.
164 UNGAVA.

So nearly had he been hurled into this strait by the
violence of his descent that his head was hanging over
the bank ere he stopped! Being partially stunned by
the fall, Bryan lay for a few seconds motionless. As
his shaken faculties returned, however, he became aware
of the fact that a fish of fully two feet long lay at the
bottom of the pool over which his head hung. Starting
up, and totally forgetting his bruises, he turned to look
for the bag containing the fishing-lines, and observing it
lying on the ground not far distant, still wrapped round
the gun, he ran to pick it up.

“Oh! wow! poor thing!” he exclaimed, on lifting
up his gun, which, though fortunately not broken, was
sadly bent, “ye’re fit for nothin’ but shootin’ round the
corner now! It’s well for you, Bryan, ye spalpeen, that
your backbone is not in the same fix.”

While he thus muttered to himself, Bryan drew from
the bag a stout cod-line, to which he fastened a hook of
deadly dimensions, and dressed it into the form of a fly,
much in the same manner as was formerly done by La
Roche. This line and fly he fastened to the end of a
short stout pole which he cut from a neighbouring tree,
and approaching cautiously to the bank of the strait—
for there was too little motion in it to entitle it to be
called a stream—he cast the fly with a violent splash
into the water. The violence was unintentional—at least
the exclamations of reproach that followed the cast would
lead us to suppose so. The fish here were as tame as
those caught in Deer River. In a few seconds the fly
was swallowed, and Bryan, applying main force to the
pole, tossed a beautiful trout of about two pounds weight
over his head.

“Och! ye purty crature,” exclaimed the delighted
Irishman, rubbing his hands with glee as he gazed at
UNGAVA. 165

the fish after having unhooked it. “Shure ye’ll make
a beautiful fagure in the kittle this night. An’ musha!
there’s wan o’ yer relations to kape ye company,” he
added, as, exerting an enormous degree of unnecessary
force, he drew another trout violently from the water.
The second trout was larger than the first, and Bryan
soon became so excited in the sport that he totally
forgot Frank’s orders, and the deer, and everything else
in the world, for the time being. Having caught six
or seven trout, varying from two to four pounds weight,
he changed his position a little, and made a cast over a
deep pool nearer to the large lake. As heretofore the
fly was engulfed the instant it fell on the water; but
Bryan did not, as heretofore, haul the fish violently out
of its native element. It is true he attempted to do so,
but the attempt proved utterly futile; moreover, the
fish darted with such velocity and strength towards the
lake, that the angler, albeit entirely ignorant of his art,
experienced an inward conviction that the thick cord
would snap altogether if not eased of the enormous
strain. He therefore followed the fish at the top of his
speed, uttering incomprehensible sounds of mingled rage
and amazement as he went, and tripping over rocks and
bushes in his headlong career. After a smart run of
half-a-minute the fish stopped, turned, and darted back
so rapidly that Bryan tripped in turning and fell into
the water! The place was shallow, but having fallen
on his back, he was thoroughly drenched from head to
foot. He did not lose the grasp of his rod, however.
Spluttering, and gasping, and dripping, he followed the
fish in its wild career until it turned again at a tangent,
and darted towards the bank on which he stood. There
was a shelving bed of pebbles, where the water shoaled
very gradually. Bryan saw this. Availing himself of
166 UNGAVA.

the fish’s impetus, and putting all his force to the rod,
he dragged it into two inches of water, when the line
broke. Instantly the fish struggled towards deep water ;
but it was so large, and the place to which it had been
dragged so shallow, that it afforded the excited angler
time to rush forward and throw himself bodily on the
top of it!

The battle that now ensued was of an energetic and
deadly character on the part of both man and fish,
Those who have not grasped a live salmon in their arms
have no conception of the strength of a fish; and perhaps
it may be said with equal truth that those who have never
wielded a forehammer have but a faint conception of the
strength of a blacksmith’s knuckles. Bryan had thrown
his whole weight on the fish, and grasped it, as with a
vice, in both hands; but at every struggle of its powerful
frame he felt how uncertain was the hold he had of its
slippery body. Once it almost escaped, and dashed the
spray over its adversary’s face with its tail, as it wriggled
out of his grasp; but with a desperate plunge Bryan
seized it by the head and succeeded in thrusting his
thumb under its gill and choking it, while himself was
well-nigh choked at the same moment by unintentionally
swallowing a gulp of the muddy compound which they
had stirred up in their struggles. Slowly and with
caution Bryan rose on one knee, while he crushed the
fish against the bottom with both hands; then making a
last exertion, he hurled it up the bank, where it fell
beyond all hope of return to its native element.

The fish thus captured was a beautiful trout of about
twenty pounds weight. The lake trout of North America
are, some of them, of enormous size, being not unfre-
quently taken of sixty pounds weight, so that as a
specimen of those inhabiting these lakes this was by no
UNGAVA. 167

means a large one. Nevertheless it was a splendid fish,
and certainly the largest that had ever been captured
by the worthy son of Vulcan.

The thick coat of liquid mud with which his face
was covered could not entirely conceal the smile of
intense satisfaction with which he regarded his prize,
as he sat down on the bank before it.

“Kape quiet now, honey!” he exclaimed, as the
trout made a last fluttering attempt to escape. “ Kape
quiet. Have patience, darlint. It’s o’ no manner o’ use
to hurry natur’. Just lie still an’ itll be soon over.”

With this consolatory remark, Bryan patted the fish
on the head, and proceeded to wring the water from
his upper garments, after which he repaired his broken
tackle, and resumed his sport with an eagerness and zest
that cold and water and mud could not diminish in
the smallest degree.
CHAPTER XVII.

Successes and encouragement—Bryan lost and found.

T was evening before the tide began to fall and
uncover the stake-nets, which were eagerly and
earnestly watched by those who had remained in the
camp. Mrs. Stanley and Edith were seated on an empty
box by the margin of the sandy bay; Mr. Stanley sat
on a nail-keg beside them; La Roche and the Indian
were still working at the small canoe a few yards from
the tent ; and Gaspard, with folded arms, and an unusual
smile of good-humour playing on his countenance, stood
close behind Stanley.

None of the hunting and exploring parties had re-
turned, although the sun had long since disappeared
behind the mountains, and the mellow light of evening
was deepening over the bay.

“There’s a tail, sir,’ said Gaspard, as he hurried
towards the net.

“So it is!” cried Stanley, leaping up.—* Come along,
Eda, and take the first fish.”

Edith needed no second invitation, but bounded
towards the edge of the water, which was now gradually
leaving the nets. Gaspard had already disengaged a
white-fish from the mesh, and wading to the beach, gave
it to the little girl, who ran with it joyously to her
mother. Meanwhile, another and another fish was left
UNGAVA. 169

by the tide, and Stanley soon after brought up a splen-
did salmon of about twenty-five pounds weight, and laid
it at Edith’s feet.

“Oh, how very beautiful!” cried the child, as she
gazed in delight at the silvery scales of the fish.

“My mind is much relieved by this, Jessie,” said
Stanley, reseating himself on the keg, while Oostesimow
and La Roche carried the fish ashore as Gaspard freed
them from the nets. “I now see that there are plenty
of fish in the river, and if the hunters bring in a good
report to-night, our anxiety on the score of food will be
quite removed.”

Although none of the party had ever set a net on stakes
before, they had frequently heard of this manner of fish-
ing, and their first attempt proved eminently successful.
At low tide stakes had been driven into the sand, extend-
ing from the edge of the water towards high-water mark.
On these the nets had been spread, and thus the misfor-
tune which had attended the setting of the nets with
floats and sinkers was avoided. The quantity of fish
taken gave promise of an ample supply for the future.
There were two Hearne-salmon (that is, spotted like
trout), and one large common salmon, besides thirty
white-fish, averaging between two to six pounds weight
each, all of which were in excellent condition. The white-
fish is of the salmon species, but white in the flesh, and
being less rich than the salmon, is much preferred by
those who have to use it constantly as an article of food.

“This is a most fortunate supply,” remarked Stanley,
“and will prevent the necessity of putting the men on
short allowance.”

“Short allowance!” exclaimed his wife; “I thought
we had more than enough of food to last us till the ar-
rival of the ship.”
170 UNGAVA.

“Ay, so we have. But until now I did not feel at
liberty to use it; for if through any accident the ship
does not come, and if there had chanced to be no fish in
the river, the only course open to us would be to re-
trace our steps, and as that would be a long and slow
process we would require to economize our food. In
fact, I had resolved to begin operations by putting the
men on short allowance; but this haul of fish shows me
that we shall have more than enough.

“But who comes here?” he added, on observing the
figure of a man approaching the camp. “He seems to
carry a burden on his back, as far as I can make out in
the uncertain light.”

“Did any of the men go out alone?” inquired Mrs.
Stanley.

“No; but I suppose that this one must have sepa-
rated from his comrade.—Hallo! who goes there?”

The man tossed the bundle from his shoulders, and
hastening forward revealed the flushed countenance of
Frank Morton.

“What! Frank! why, man, you seem to have had a
hard day of it, if I may judge by your looks.”

“Not so hard but that a good supper will put its
effects to flight,” replied Frank, as he rested his gun
against a rock and seated himself on the keg from which
Stanley had risen. “The fact is, I have slain a noble
buck, and being desirous that the men should have as
much of it as possible, I loaded myself rather heavily.
The ground, too, is horribly bad; but pray send Gaspard
for the bundle. I should have been here sooner but for
the time required to dissect the animal.”

“Where is Bryan, Frank?” inquired Mrs. Stanley.
“You went away together.”

“Bryan! I know not. He and I parted in the moun-
UNGAVA. 171

tains some hours ago; and as he failed to keep his ap-
pointment with me, I concluded that he must have
become foot-sore and returned to camp.”

“He has not returned,” said Stanley ; “but I have no
fear for the honest blacksmith. He’s too old a nor’-
wester to lose himself, and he’s too tough to kill) But
come, Frank, let us to our tent. I see that La Roche
has already prepared our salmon for the kettle, and so—”

“Salmon !” interrupted Frank.

“ Ay, lad, salmon! a twenty-five pounder too! But
come, change your foot-gear, and then we shall have our
supper, in the course of which we shall exchange news.”

As they proceeded towards the camp the voices of
some of the men were heard in the distance; it was
now too dark to see them. In a few minutes Francois,
followed by Augustus and Ma-istequan, strode into the
circle of light around the fire, and laying aside their
guns proceeded to light their pipes, while they replied
to the questions of Frank and Stanley.

“You do not come empty-handed,” remarked the
latter, as Francois and his comrades threw down several
fat ducks and a few grouse, which, after the fashion of
hunters, they had carried pendent by the necks from
their belts.

“We only shot a few, monsieur,’ replied Frangois,
“to put in the kettle for supper. We might have loaded
a canoe had we chosen.”

“That is well,” said Stanley; “but the kettle is full
already, and supper prepared. See, Frank has shot a
deer, so that we shall fare well to-night—Ah, Prince !
come along. What! more game?” he added, as Dick
and Massan entered the halo of light, and threw down
the choice morsels of a fat deer which they had killed
among the mountains,
172 UNGAVA.

“Ah! oui, monsieur,” said Massan, chuckling as he
laid aside his axe and gun; “we might ha’ killed three
o’ them if we had been so minded; but we couldn’t ha’
brought them into camp, an’, as Dick said, ’tis a pity to
kill deer to feed the wolves with.”

“ Right!” exclaimed Frank ; “ but did any of you see
Bryan? He gave me the slip in the mountains, and, I
fear, has lost himself.”

To this the men replied in the negative, and some of
them smiled at the idea of the blacksmith being lost.

“No fear, vraiment! He no lost,” cried La Roche
with a laugh, as he lifted the huge kettle from the fire
and placed it in the midst of the men, having previously
abstracted the best portions for the special benefit of his
master. “No fear ov Bryan, certainment; he like one
bad shilling—he come up toujours. Ah! mauvais chien,
him give me all de trouble ov get supper ready mylone.”

“T trust it may be so,” said Stanley. “We are all
here except him and Oolibuck, whom I have sent to the
coast for a few days to watch for the ship. But let us
have supper, La Roche, and spread ours nearer the fire
to-night—it is rather cold; besides I want to hear the
reports of the men.”

In compliance with this order, the lively Frenchman
spread the supper for his master’s family close beside
that of the men, and in a few minutes more a most
vigorous attack was made on the viands, during the first
part of which the hungry travellers maintained unbroken
silence. But as the cravings of nature began to be sat-
isfied, their tongues found time to remark on the excel-
lence of the fare. The salmon was superb. Even Edith,
who seldom talked about what she ate, pronounced it
very good. The white-fish were better than any of the
party had ever eaten in their lives, although most of
UNGAVA. 1738

them had travelled over the length and breadth of the
North American wilderness. The ducks were perfect.
Even the ptarmigan were declared passable; and the
venison, with an inch of fat on the haunches—words
were not found sufficiently expressive to describe it.
Those who are philosophically inclined may suspect that
some of this super-excellence lay in the keen appetites
of the men. Well, perhaps it did.

While the travellers were in the midst of this, and
ere yet their tongues were fairly loosened, a loud un-
earthly shout rang with appalling reverberations among
the surrounding cliffs, causing the entire party to start
up and rush for their arms. Again the cry was heard.

“Ah! bad skran to ye, Losh !—Hould on, Moses, ye
fat villain. Lave me wan mouthful, jist wan, to kape
me from givin’ up the ghost intirely.”

A shout of laughter greeted the advent of Bryan’s
voice, but it was nothing to the peals that burst forth
on the appearance of that individual in propria persona.
To say that he was totally dishevelled would convey
but half the truth. Besides being covered and clotted
with mud, he was saturated with water from head to
foot, his clothes rent in a most distressing manner, and
his features quite undistinguishable.

“Why, Bryan, what ails you? Where have you
been ?” inquired Stanley, in a tone of sympathy.

“Bin, is it? Sorra wan o me knows where I’ve bin.
It’s mysilf is glad to be sartin I’m here, anyhow.”

“Tm glad you’re certain of it,” said Frank, “for if it
were not for the sound of your voice, I should doubt it.”

“Ah, monsieur,” said La Roche, “make your mind
easy on dat. No von but Bryan ever regard de kettle
dat way.”

“Taizy voo, ye petit varmint,” said Bryan, approach-
174 UNGAVA.

ing the said kettle, and smiling rapturously through the
mud that encrusted his face on beholding its contents.
Without waiting to change his garments the hungry
blacksmith began supper, having first, however, directed
attention to the bag which he had brought in. From
this bag La Roche now extracted about a dozen trout,
some of which were of great size—especially one, whose
bulk exceeded that of the large salmon.

“There’s plinty more where thim comed from,” said
Bryan, through a mouthful of venison; “but I'll tell ye
ov it afther supper.”

“Ah, true! don’t let us interrupt him just now,” said
Stanley. “In the meantime, Francois, since you seem
to be about done, tell us what you have seen, and let
us hear what you have to say of the country.”

Frangois having lighted his pipe, cleared his throat
and began :—

“Well, monsieur, after we had paddled a short bit
beyond the point below the last rapid in Caniapuscaw
River, we shoved the canoe ashore, and landed Prince
and Massan, who set off to look for game, leavin’
Augustus, Ma-istequan, and me to paddle up the river
as well as we could. But we soon found that three
men in a big canoe could not make much way agin the
strong current of the river, so we put ashore again and
took to our legs.

“After making a long tramp up the banks o’ the
river, we fell in with some good-sized pines; but although
they are big for this part of the country, they are not
big enough for building. Then we pushed into the
gullies, which are sheltered from the cold winds off the
bay, and here we found the trees a good deal bigger.
There are pines and larch in abundance, and some of
the larch are even bigger than we require.”
UNGAVA. 175

“ Are they far inland ?” inquired Stanley.

“No, monsieur, they are only a few hundred yards
from the banks of the river, and growin’ on the edge of
a small creek, which I- noticed is deep enough to float
them down.”

“Good, very good,” said Stanley, filling his pipe with
a fresh charge of tobacco; “that is most fortunate, for
it will save time, and take fewer men to bring them
here. Go on, Francois.”

“Bien, monsieur. Then I felled one or two o’ the
trees, to see what like they are; and I found that they
are very tough and good. The pines are firmer and
tougher than any I ever saw in the Indian country,
owing, I suppose, to their stunted growth. While I was
thus employed, Augustus shot the grouse we brought
home, and we saw a great many coveys of them. In
fact, we might have shot many more; but as we did not
know how far we should have to walk, we thought it
best not to burden ourselves too much. We also saw a
great many ducks, and shot a few, as you see.”

“Did you see goose?” inquired La Roche, whose mind
had a natural tendency to culinary matters.

“No,” replied Francois, “I saw no geese; but I did
not go out of my way to look for them. I was
more taken up with the timber than replenishing the
kettle.”

“Ah! that ver’ great pity. Oui, grand damage. De
kittle toujours de most importance t’ing on de voyage.
If you forget him—you goot for noting. Mais, Francois,
did you look into the deep clear pool at de foot of de
rapid ?”

Frangois emitted a cloud of smoke with a negative in
the middle of it.

“Ah!” said La Roche with a sigh, “I thought not:
176 UNGAVA.

mais it was pity. You see one goose for certain, if
you have look straight down into dat pool.”

“Bien,” continued Francois, turning to Stanley. “I
then went into one or two more gullies, and saw some
more sticks fit for building; but after all it is only in
the gullies they grow, and there are not very many.
The trees on the banks of the river are chiefly pines,
and only fit for firewood.”

“And an important item is firewood, as we shall find
ere long,” remarked Stanley. “Your account of the
timber is very satisfactory, Francois. Did you see traces
of Indians or Esquimaux ?”

“No; I saw none.”

“Perhaps you did, Prince,” continued Stanley, turning
to that worthy, who was stretched, along with Massan,
at full length before the blaze, and had been listening
attentively to the conversation while he solaced himself
with his pipe.

“Yes, sir, we seed the marks they left behind them,”
answered Prince, while he glanced towards Massan, as if
to invite him to give the desired information.

“Ay, we saw their marks, no doubt,” said the guide,
knocking the ashes out of his pipe, and raising himself
from his reclining posture to that of a tailor, the more
conveniently to recharge that beloved implement. “ Ay,
we saw their marks, and they was by no means pleasant
to look on. After we had landed above the pint, as
Frangois told ye, Dick Prince and me went up one 0’
the gullies, an’ then gettin’ on one o’ them flat places
that run along the face of all the mountains hereabouts,
we pushed straight up the river. We had not gone far
when, on turnin’ a p’int, we both clapped eyes at the
same moment on the most ill-lookin’ blackguard of a
wolf I ever saw. Up went both our guns at once, and
UNGAVA. - 177

I believe we were very near puttin’ a bullet in each of
his eyes, when we noticed that these same eyes were
not lookin’ at us, but starin’, most awful earnest like,
up a gully in the mountains; so we looked up, an’, sure
enough, there we saw a deer on the mountain-top, tossin’

its head and snuffin’ round to see that the coast was «

clear before it came down to the water. We noticed
that a regular beaten deer-track passed down this gully,
and master wolf, who knowed the walk very well, was
on the look-out for his dinner; so we waited quiet till
the deer came down, an’ Dick put a bullet in its heart,
an’ I put one into the wolf's head, so they both tumbled
down the cliffs together. The shot made another deer,
that we had not seen, start off into the river; but before
it got a few yards from the shore, Dick loaded again
and put a bullet into its head too, an’ it was washed
ashore at the p'int below us.

“Havin’ fixed them off comfortably, we cut up the
deer, and put all we could carry on our shoulders, for
we knowed that if we left them, we'd find nothin’ but
the bones when we came back. About an hour after
this we came upon a deserted camp of Indians. It was
so fresh that we think they must have passed but a few
weeks ago. The whole camp was strewed with bones
of deer, as if the red varmints had been havin’ a feast.
An’ sure enough, a little farther on, we came upon the
dead carcasses of ninety-three deer! ‘The rascals had
taken nothin’ but the tongues an’ tit-bits, leavin’ the
rest for the wolves.”

“Ay, they’re a reckless, improvident set,’ remarked
Stanley. “I’ve been told that the Esquimaux are quite
different in this respect. They never kill what they
don’t require; but the redskins slaughter the deer by
dozens for the sake of their tongues.”

12
178 UNGAVA.

“We also found the broken head of an Esquimau
seal-spear, and this little bit of sealskin.” Massan handed
these as he spoke to Stanley.

“T fear,” said Frank, “this looks as if they had made
an attack on the Esquimaux very recently.”

“JT fear it much,” said Stanley, examining the little
shred of sealskin, which had beautifully glossy hair on
one side, and on the other, which was dressed, there were
sundry curious marks, one of which bore a rude resem-
blance to an Indian wigwam, with an arrow pointing
towards it.

“J found the bit o’ sealskin hanging on a bush a little
apart from the place where they camped, an’ from what
TP’ve seen 0’ the ways o’ redskins, it’s my ’pinion that it
was put there for some purpose or other.”

“Very likely.—Take care of it, Jessie,” said Stanley,
throwing it to his wife; “it may be explained some day.
—wWell, Massan, did you see any other animals ?”

“ Yes, sir, lots o’ them. We saw deer on the hill-tops,
and might ha’ shot more o them if we could have
brought them into camp. An’ we saw porcupines in all
the pine bluffs. An’ we saw fish in the lakes among
the .mountains. There are lots o’ them lakes—small
things some o’ them—in all the gullies, and fish in most
o them; but we had neither lines nor hooks, so we
catched none.”

“ Faix, if ye catched none, yer betters catched plinty,”
said Bryan, who, having concluded supper and changed
his garments, was now luxuriating in a smoke. The
blacksmith pointed as he spoke to the bag of splendid
trout which lay at a short distance from the fire. “’Tis
mysilf’s the boy to catch them. I would have brought
ye two times as much, if it wasn’t that I lost my hook
and line. I think it must have bin a fresh-water
UNGAVA. 179

whale, the last wan, bad luck to it! for it pulled me
into the wather three times, an’ wint off at last with
two fathom o’ cod-line trailin’ behind it.”

“So then, Bryan,” said Frank, “it must have been
the yells with which you accompanied your fishing that
frightened the deer I was after and caused me to lose
him. However, as I got another soon afterwards which
must have been frightened towards me by these same
halloos, I forgive you.”

Frank now gave the party an account of what he
had seen, but as his experience merely corroborated
that of Dick Prince and Massan we will not trouble the
reader with the details. The evidence of the various
exploring parties, when summed up, was undoubtedly
most satisfactory, and while it relieved the mind of the
leaders of the band, it raised and cheered the spirits of
the men. ‘Timber, although not plentiful or very large,
was to be had close to the spot where they proposed to
erect their fort; game of all kinds swarmed in the moun-
tains in abundance; and the lakes and rivers were well
stocked with excellent fish: so that, upon the whole,
they considered that they had made an auspicious com-
mencement to their sojourn in the land of the Esquimaux.
CHAPTER XVIII.

Outpost-building—Fort Chimo—An unexpected arrival, which causes much joy.

HE band of fur-traders now set earnestly about

the erection of their winter dwelling. The

season was so far advanced that the men could no
longer be spared from the work to hunt or fish in the
mountains, so that they lived chiefly on the produce of
the stake-nets in front of the camp, and a small allow-
ance of the provisions with which they had started from
Moose Fort. Occasionally Frank sallied forth and re-
turned with the best parts of a deer on his shoulders;
but these excursions were rare, as both he and Stanley
worked with the men in the erection of the fort. No
one was idle for a moment, from the time of rising—
shortly after daybreak-—to the time of going to rest at
night. Even little Edith found full occupation in assisting
her mother in the performance of a host of little house-
hold duties, too numerous to recapitulate. The dog Chimo
was the only exception to the general rule. He hunted
the greater part of the forenoon, for his own special bene-
fit, and slept when not thus occupied, or received with
philosophical satisfaction the caresses of his young mistress.
The future fort was begun on the centre of the level
patch of green-sward at the foot of the flat rock by the
spring, where the party had originally encamped. A
square was traced on the ground to indicate the stockade ;
and within this, Stanley marked off an oblong patch,
UNGAVA. 181

close to the back stockade, for the principal dwelling-
house, facing the river. Two other spaces were on
either side of this—one for a store, the other for a
dwelling for the men. When finished, the fort would
thus have the form of three sides of a square surrounded
by a stockade. In the centre of this, and the first thing
that was erected, was a flag-staff, on which the H.B.C.*
flag was hoisted, and saluted with three cheers as its
crimson folds fluttered out in the breeze for the first
time. The plan on which the houses were constructed
was that on which all the dwellings of the fur-traders
are built—namely, a framework of timber, the inter-
stices of which are filled up with logs sliding into
grooves cut in the main posts and beams. This manner
of building is so simple that a house can be erected
without any other instruments than an axe, an auger,
and a large chisel; and the speed with which it is put
up would surprise those whose notions of house-building
are limited to stone edifices.

The axes of the wood-cutters resounded among the
gullies and ravines of Ungava, and awakened the
numerous echoes of the mountains. The encampment
no longer presented a green spot, watered by a tiny rill,
but was strown with logs in all stages of formation, and
chips innumerable. The frameworks of the dwelling-
houses began to rise from the earth, presenting, in their
unfinished condition, a bristling, uncomfortable appear-
ance, suggesting thoughts in the beholder’s mind highly
disparaging to art, and deeply sympathetic with out-
raged nature. The tents still stood, and the camp-fire
burned, but the superior proportions of the rising fort
threw these entirely into the shade. A rude wharf of
unbarked logs ran from the beach into the river. It

* Hudson’s Bay Company.
182 UNGAVA.

had been begun and finished in a couple of days, for the
convenience of Gaspard while visiting his nets, as he
sometimes did before the water left them. Everything,
in short, bore evidence of the most bustling activity and
persevering energy ; and in a few weeks from the time of
their first landing, the dwelling-houses were sufficiently
weather-tight to be habitable, and the other portions of
the establishment in an advanced condition.

The openings between the logs of the houses were
calked with a mixture of mud and moss, and left in that
condition in the meantime, until the pit-saw could be set
to work to produce boards for the better protection of the
walls without and within. The window and door frames
were also made, and covered temporarily with parchment,
until the arrival of the ship should enable them to fill
the former with glass and the latter with broad panels.

The effect of the parchment-covered door, however,
was found to be somewhat troublesome. Being large,
and tightly covered, it sounded, when shut violently, with
a noise so strongly resembling the report of a distant
cannon that, during the first day after its erection, the
men more than once rushed down to the beach in the ex-
pectation of seeing the long and ardently wished-for ship,
which was now so much beyond the time appointed for
her arrival that Stanley began to entertain serious appre-
hensions for her safety. This ship was to have sailed
from York Fort, the principal depot of the fur-traders
in Hudson’s Bay, with supplies and goods for trade with
the Esquimaux during the year. She was expected at
Ungava in August, and it was now September. The frost
was beginning, even at this early period, to remind the
expedition of the long winter that was at hand, and in the
course of a very few weeks Hudson’s Straits would be im-
passable ; so that the anxiety of the traders was natural.
UNGAVA. 183

Just before the partitions of the chief dwelling-house
were completed, Stanley went to the tent in which his
wife and child were busily employed in sewing.

“Can you spare Edith for a short time, wife?” said
he, as his partner looked up to welcome him.

“Yes, for a short time; but she is becoming so useful
to me that I cannot afford to spare her long.”

“Tm afraid,” said Stanley, as he took his child by the
hand and led her away, “that I must begin to put in my
claim to the services of this little baggage, who seems to
be so useful. What say you, Eda; will you allow me
to train you to shoot, and fish, and walk on snow-shoes,
and so make a trader of you?”

“TI would like very much, papa, to learn to walk on
snow-shoes, but I think the gun would hurt me—it
seems to kick so. Don’t you think I am too little to
shoot a gun off?”

Stanley laughed at the serious way in which the
child received the proposal.

“Well, then, we won’t teach you to shoot yet, Eda;
but, as you say, the snow-shoe walking is worth learning,
for if you cannot walk on the long shoes when the snow
falls, I fear you'll not be able to leave the fort at all.”

_ “Yes, and Francois has promised to make me a pair,”
said Edith gaily, “and to teach me how to use them;
and mamma says I am old enough to learn now. Is it
not kind of Francois? He is always very good to me.”

“Indeed it is very kind of him, my pet; but all the
men seem to be very good to you—are they not?”

“Oh yes!—all of them. Even Gaspard is kind now.
He never whips Chimo, and he patted me on the head
the other day when I met him alone in the ravine—the
berry ravine, you know, where I go to gather berries.
I wonder if there are berries in all the other ravines ?—
184 UNGAVA.

but I don’t care much, for there are thousands and thou-
sands of all kinds in my own ravine, and—where are
you going, papa ?”

This abrupt question was caused by her father turning
into the square of the new fort, in which the most of the
men were at work.

“T’m going to show you our house, Eda, and to ask
you to fix on the corner you like best for your own
room. The partitions are going to be put up, so we
must fix at once.”

As he spoke they passed through the open doorway
of the new dwelling, which was a long, low building;
and, placing his little daughter in the centre of the
principal hall, Stanley directed her to look round and
choose a corner for herself.

For a few minutes Edith stood with an expression of
perplexity on her bright face ; then she began to examine
the views from each of the corner windows. This could
only be done by peeping through the bullet-hole in the
parchment skins that in the meantime did duty for glass.
The two windows at the back corners looked out upon
the rocky platform, behind which the mountains rose
like a wall, so they were rejected; but Edith lingered
at one of them, for from it she saw the spring at the
foot of the rock, with its soft bed of green moss and
surrounding willow-bushes. From the front corner on
the left hand Cross Island and the valley of the river
beyond were visible ; but from the window on the right
the view embraced the whole sweep of the wide river
and the narrow outlet to the bay, which, with its frown-
ing precipices on either side, and its bold flanking moun-
tains, seemed a magnificent portal to the Arctic Sea.

“JT think this is the nicest corner,” said Edith, turn-
ing with a smile to her father.
UNGAVA. 185

«Then this shall be yours,” said Stanley.

“But,” exclaimed Edith, as a sudden thought occurred
to her, “ perhaps Frank would like this corner. I would
not like to have it if Frank wants it.”

“Fyank doesn’t want it, and Frank shan’t have it.
There now, run to your mother, you little baggage; she
can’t get on without you. Off you go, quick!”

With a merry laugh Edith bounded through the door-
way, and disappeared like a sunbeam from the room.

On the 25th of September, Stanley was standing on
the beach, opposite the fort, watching with a smile of
satisfaction the fair, happy face of his daughter, as she
amused herself and Chimo by throwing a stick into the
water, which the latter dutifully brought out and laid
at her feet as often as it was thrown in. Frank was
also watching them.

«What shall we call the fort, Frank?” said his com-
panion. “We have a Fort Good Hope, and a Fort
Resolution, and a Fort Enterprise already. It seems as
if all the vigorous and hearty words in the English
language were used up in naming the forts of the
Hudson’s Bay Company. What shall we call it?”

“Chimo! Chimo! Chimo!” shouted Edith to the dog,
as the animal bounded along the beach.

Both gentlemen seemed to be struck with the same
idea simultaneously.

“There’s an answer to your question,” said Frank ;
“call the fort ‘Chimo. ”

“The very thing!” replied Stanley ; “I wonder it did
not occur to me before. Nothing could be more appro-
priate. I salute thee, Fort Chimo,” and Stanley lifted
his cap to the establishment.

In order that the peculiar appropriateness of the name
may appear to the reader, it may be as well to explain
186 UNGAVA.

that Chimo (the ¢ and o of which are sounded long) is an
Esquimau word of salutation, and is used by the natives
when they meet with strangers. It signifies, Are you
friendly ? by those who speak first, and seems to imply,
We are friendly, when returned as an answer. So well
known is the word to the fur-traders who traffic with
the natives of Hudson’s Straits that they frequently
apply it to them as a name, and speak of the Esquimaux
as Chimos. It was, therefore, a peculiarly appropriate
name for a fort which was established on the confines of
these icy regions, for the double purpose of entering into
friendly traffic with the Esquimaux, and of bringing
about friendly relations between them and their old
enemies, the Muskigon Indians of East Main.

After playing for some time beside the low wharf,
Edith and her dog left the beach together, and rambled
towards a distant eminence, whence could be obtained a
commanding bird’s-eye view of the new fort. She had
not sat many minutes here when her eye was arrested
by the appearance of an unusual object in the distance.
Frank, who was yet engaged in conversation with
Stanley on the beach, also noticed it. Laying his
hand on the arm of his companion, he pointed towards
the narrows, where a small, white, triangular object was
visible against the dark cliff. As they gazed, a second
object of similar form came into view; then a fore and
top sail made their appearance; and, in another second,
a schooner floated slowly through the opening! Ere
the spectators of this silent apparition could give utter-
ance to their joy, a puff of white smoke sprang from the
vessel’s bow, and a cannon-shot burst upon the moun-
tains. Leaping on from cliff to crag, it awakened a
crash of magnificent echoes, which, after prolonged repeti-
tions, died away in low mutterings like distant thunder.
UNGAVA. 187

It was followed by a loud cheer from the. schooner’s
deck, and the H.B.C. flag was run up to the main,
while the Union Jack floated at the peak.

“ Now, Frank, give the word,” cried Stanley, taking off
his cap, while the men ran down to the beach en masse.

“ Hip, hip, hurrah !”

“ Hurrah !” echoed the men, and a cheer arose among
the cliffs that moved to the very centre the hearts of
those who heard and gave it.

Again and again the stirring shout arose from the
fort, and was replied to from the schooner. It was no
matter of form, or cheer of ceremony. There was a
deep richness and a prolonged energy in the tone, which
proved that the feelings and lungs of the men were
roused to the uttermost in its delivery. It told of long
gathering anxieties swept entirely away, and of deep
joy at seeing friendly faces in a sterile land, where
lurking foes might be more likely to appeav.

At all times the entrance of a ship into port is a
noble sight, and one which touches the heart and evokes
the enthusiasm of almost every human being; but when
the ship arriving is almost essential to the existence of
those who watch her snowy sails swelling out as they
urge her to the land—when her keel is the first that
has ever ploughed the waters of their distant bay—and
when her departure will lock them up in solitude for
a long, long year—such feelings are roused to their
utmost pitch of intensity.

Cheer upon cheer rose and fell, and rose again,
among the mountains of Ungava. Even Edith’s tiny
voice helped to swell the enthusiastic shout; and more
than one cheer was choked by the rising tide of emo-
tion that forced the tears down more than one bronzed
cheek, despite the iron wills that bade them not to flow.
CHAPTER XIX.

Bustle and business—A great feast, in which Bryan and La Roche are prime
“ movers—New ideas in the art of cooking.

HE scene at Fort Chimo was more bustling and
active than ever during the week that followed
the arrival of the schooner. The captain told Stanley,
as they sat sipping a glass of Madeira in the hall of the
new fort, that he had been delayed by ice in the straits
so long, that the men were afraid of being set fast for
the winter, and were almost in a state of mutiny, when
they fortunately discovered the mouth of the river. As
had been anticipated by Stanley, the ship entered False
River by mistake, unseen by Oolibuck, notwithstanding
the vigilance of his lookout. Fortunately he observed it
as it came out of the river, just at the critical period
when the seamen began to threaten to take the law into
their own hands if the search were continued any longer.
Oolibuck no sooner beheld the object of his hopes
than he rushed to the top of a hill, where he made a
fire and sent up a column of smoke that had the im-
mediate effect of turning the vessel’s head towards him.
Soon afterwards a boat was sent ashore, and took the
Esquimau on board, who explained, in his broken English,
that he had been watching for them for many days, and
would be happy to pilot the vessel up to the fort.
“You may be sure,” continued the captain, “that I
UNGAVA. 189

was too happy to give the ship in charge to the fellow,
who seemed to understand thoroughly what he was
about. He is already quite a favourite with the men,
who call him Oilybuss, much to his own amusement ;
and he has excited their admiration and respect by his
shooting, having twice on the way up shot a goose on
the wing.”

“Not an unusual exhibition of skill among fur-traders,”
said Stanley; “but I suppose your men are not much
used to the gun. And now, captain, when must you
start ?”

“The moment the cargo is landed, sir,” replied the
captain, who was distinguished by that thorough self-
sufficiency and prompt energy of character which seem
peculiar to sea-captains in general. “We may have
trouble in getting out of the straits, and, after getting to
Quebec, I am bound to carry a cargo of timber to En-
gland.”

“I will do my best to help you, captain. Your
coming has relieved my mind from a load of anxiety,
and one good turn deserves another, so I'll make my
fellows work night and day till your ship is discharged.”

Stanley was true to his word. Not only did the men
work almost without intermission, but he and Frank
Morton scarce allowed themselves an hour’s repose during
the time that the work was going on. Night and day
“yo heave ho” of the Jack Tars rang over the water ;
and the party on shore ran to and fro, from the beach
to the store, with bales, kegs, barrels, and boxes on their
shoulders. ‘There were blankets and guns, and axes and
knives, powder and shot, and beads and awls, and nets
and twine. There were kettles of every sort and size;
cloth of every hue; capotes of all dimensions, and minute
etceteras without end: so that, had it been possible to
190 UNGAVA.

prevail on the spirits of the ice to carry to the Esquimaux
intelligence of the riches contained in the store at Chimo,
an overwhelming flood of visitors would speedily have
descended on that establishment. But no such messen-
gers could be found—although Bryan asserted positively
that more than “wan o’ them” had been seen by him
since his arrival; so the traders had nothing for it but
to summon patience to their aid and bide their time.

When the work of discharging was completed, and
while Stanley and the captain were standing on the
beach watching the removal of the last boat-load to the
store, the former said to the latter: “Now, captain, I
have a favour to request, which is that you and your
two mates will dine with me to-morrow. Your men
will be the better of a day’s rest after such a long spell
of hard work. You could not well get away till the
evening of to-morrow at any rate, on account of the tide,
and it will be safer and more pleasant to start early on
the day after.”

“I shall be most happy,” replied the captain heartily.

“That's right,” said Stanley. “Dinner will be ready
by four o’clock precisely; and give my compliments to
your crew, and say that my men will expect them all to
dinner at the same hour.”

Ten minutes after this, Stanley entered his private
apartment in the fort, which, under the tasteful manage-
ment of his wife, was beginning to look elegant and
comfortable.

“Wife,” said he, “I will order La Roche to send you
a box of raisins and an unlimited supply of flour, butter,
etc., wherewith you will be so kind as to make, or cause
to be made—on pain of my utmost displeasure in the
event of failure—a plum-pudding large enough to fill
the largest sized washing-tub, and another of about
UNGAVA. 191

quarter that size; both to be ready boiled by four to-
‘morrow afternoon.”

“Sir, your commands shall be obeyed. I suppose you
intend to regale the sailors before they leave. Is it not
so?”

“You have guessed rightly for once; and take care
that you don’t let Eda drown herself in the compost
before it is tied up. I must hasten to prepare the
men.”

Two minutes later and Stanley stood in the midst of
his men, who, having finished their day’s work, were
now busy with supper in their new house, into which
they had but recently moved.

“Lads,” said Stanley, “you have stuck to your work
so hard of late that I think it a pity to allow you to
fall into lazy habits again. I expect you all to be up
by break of day to-morrow.”

“Och! musha!” sighed Bryan, as he laid down his
knife and fork with a look of consternation.

“I have invited the ship’s crew,” continued Stanley,
“to dine with you before they leave us. As the larder
is low just now, you'll all have to take to the hills for a
fresh supply. Make your arrangements as you please,
but see that there is no lack of venison and fish. I'll
guarantee the pudding and grog.”

So saying, he turned and left the house, followed by
a tremendous cheer.

“Oh! parbleu! vat shall I do?” said La Roche, with
a look of affected despair. “I am most dead for vant
of sleep already. C’est impossible to cook pour every-
body demain. I vill be sure to fall ’sleep over de fire,
prehaps fall into him.”

“Och, Losh, Losh, when will ye larn to think nothin’
0’ yoursilf ? Ye'll only have to cook for the bourgeois ;
192 UNGAVA.

but think o’ me! All the min, an’ the ship’s crew to
boot !”

The blacksmith concluded by knocking La Roche's
pipe out of his mouth, in the excess of his glee at the
prospective feast; after which he begged his pardon
solemnly in bad French, and ducked his head to avoid
the tin can that was hurled at it by the indignant
Frenchman.

At the first streak of dawn the following morning,
and long before the sun looked down into the ravines of
Ungava, Massan and Dick Prince were seen to issue with
noiseless steps from the fort, with their guns on their
shoulders, and betake themselves to the mountains.
Half-an-hour later Bryan staggered out of the house,
with a bag on his shoulder, scarcely half awake, rub-
bing his eyes and muttering to himself in a low tone, as
he plunged rather than walked into the ravine which
led to the first terrace,on the mountain.

When the sun rose over the mountain-tops and looked
down upon the calm surface of the river, there was not
a man remaining in the fort, with the exception of
Stanley and Frank, and their active servant La Roche.

A deep calm rested on the whole scene. ‘The sailors
of the vessel, having risen to despatch breakfast, retired
‘to their hammocks again and went to sleep; Stanley,
Frank, and their household, were busy within doors;
Chimo snored in the sunshine at the front of the fort;
and the schooner floated on a sheet of water so placid,
that every spar and delicate rope was clearly reflected.
Nothing was heard save the soft ripple on the shore, the
distant murmur of mountain streams, and, once or twice
through the day, the faint reverberation of a fowling-piece.

But as the day advanced, evidences of the approach-
ing feast began to be apparent. Early in the forenoon
UNGAVA. 193

Massan and Prince returned with heavy loads of venison
on their shoulders, and an hour later Bryan staggered
into the fort bending under the weight of a well-filled
bag of fish, He had been at his favourite fishing
quarters in the dark valley, and was dripping wet from
head to foot, having fallen, as usual, into the water.
Bryan had a happy facility in falling into the water
that was quite unaccountable—and rather enviable in
warm weather. As the cooking operations were con-
ducted on an extensive scale, a fire was kindled in the
open air in the rear of the men’s house; round which
fire, in the course of the forenoon, Bryan and La Roche
performed feats of agility so extravagant, and apparently
so superhuman, that they seemed to involve an element
of wickedness from their very intensity. Of course no
large dinner ever passed through the ordeal of being
cooked without some accidents or misfortunes, more or
less. Even in civilized life, where the most intricate
appliances are brought to bear on the operation by
artistes thoroughly acquainted with their profession, in-
fallibility is not found. It would be unjust, therefore,
to expect that two backwoods-men should be perfectly
successful, especially when it is remembered that their
branch of the noble science was what might be techni-
cally termed plain cookery, the present being their first
attempt in the higher branches.

Their first difficulty arose from the larger of the two
plum-puddings, which La Roche had compounded under
the directions of Mrs. Stanley and the superintendence
of Edith.

“I say, Losh,” cried Bryan to his companion, whose
head was at the moment hid from view in a cloud of
steam that ascended from a large pot over which he bent,
apparently muttering incantations.

13
194, UNGAVA.

“Vell, fat you want?”

“ Faix, and it’s just fat that I don’t want,” said Bryan,
pointing, as he spoke, to the large pudding, which, being
much too large for the kettle, was standing on the rim
thereof like the white ball of foam that caps a tankard
of double X. “It’s more nor twice too fat already,
The kittle won’t hould it, no how.”

“Oh, stuff him down, dat is de way,” suggested La
Roche.

“Stuff it down, avic, an’ what's to come o’ the
wather ?” said Bryan.

“Ah! true, dat is perplexible, vraiment.”

At this moment the large pot boiled over and a cloud
of scalding steam engulfed the sympathetic Frenchman,
causing him to yell with mingled pain and rage as he
bounded backwards.

“Musha! but ye’ll come to an early death, Losh, if ye
don’t be more careful 0’ yer dried-up body.”

“Taisez vous, done,” muttered his companion, half
angrily.

“Taisin’ ye? avic, sorra wan o’ me’s taisin’ ye. But
since ye can’t help me out o’ me throubles, I'll try to
help mysilf.”

In pursuance of this noble resolve, Bryan went to the
store and fetched from thence another large tin kettle.
He then undid the covering of the unwieldy pudding,
which he cut into two equal parts, and having squeezed
them into two balls, tied them up in the cloth, which he
divided for the purpose, and put them into the separate
kettles, with the air of a man who had overcome a great
difficulty by dint of unfathomable wisdom. It was
found, however, that the smaller pudding, intended for
Stanley’s table, was also too large for its kettle; but the
energetic blacksmith, whose genius was now thoroughly
UNGAVA. 195

aroused, overcame this difficulty by cutting off several
pounds of it, and transferring the pudding thus reduced
to the kettle, saying in an under-tone as he did so,
“There’s more nor enough for the six 0’ ye yit, av yer
only raisonable in yer appetites.”

But the superfluity of the pudding thus caused be-
came now a new source of trouble to Bryan.

“ What’s to be done wid it, Losh 2 I don’t like to
give it to the dogs, an’ it’s too small intirely to make a
dumplin’ of.”

“You better heat him raw,” suggested La Roche.

“ Faix, an’ I’ve half a mind to; but it would spile my
dinner. Hallo! look out for the vainison, Losh.”

“Ah, oui; oh! misere!” cried La Roche, springing
over the fire, and giving a turn to the splendid haunch
of venison which depended from a wooden tripod in
front of the blaze, and, having been neglected for a few
minutes, was beginning to singe.

“What have ye in the pot there?” inquired Bryan.

“Von goose, two duck, trois plovre, et von leetle
bird—I not know de name of—put him in pour ex-
periment.”

“Very good, Losh; out wid the goose and we'll cram
the bit o’ dumplin’ into him for stuffin’.”

“Ah! superb, excellent,” cried La Roche, laughing, as
he lifted out the goose, into which Bryan thrust the
mass of superfluous pudding; after which the hole was
tied up and the bird re-consigned to the pot.

Everything connected with this dinner was strikingly
Suggestive of the circumstances under which it was
given. The superabundance of venison and wild-fowl ;
the cooking done in the open air; the absence of women,
and the performance of work usually allotted to them
by bronzed and stalwart voyageurs; the wild scenery in
196 UNGAVA.

the midst of which it took place; and the mixture of
Trish, English, French, Indian, Esquimau, and compound
tones, that fell upon the ear as the busy work went on,
—all tended to fill the mind with a feeling of wild
romance, and to suggest powerfully the idea of being, if
we may so express it, far, far away! As the proceedings
advanced towards completion, this feeling was rather in-
creased than removed.

Tables and chairs were a luxury that still remained
to be introduced at Fort Chimo, when the men found
leisure from more urgent duties to construct them.
Therefore the dining-table in Stanley’s hall was com-
posed of three large packing-cases turned bottom up.
There was no cloth wherewith to cover its rough boards ;
but this was a matter of little importance to the com-
pany which assembled round it, punctually at the hour
of four. In place of chairs there were good substantial
nail-kegs, rather low, it is true, and uncommonly hard,
but not to be despised under the circumstances. Owing
to the unusual demand for dishes, the pewter plates
and spoons and tin drinking-cups—for they had little
crockery—were of every form and size that the store
contained; and the floor on which it all stood was the
beaten ground, for the intended plank flooring was still
growing in the mountain glens.

But if the equipage was homely and rude, the fare
was choice and abundant; and an odour that might
have gladdened the heart of an epicure greeted the
nostrils of the captain and his two mates when they
entered the hall, dressed in blue surtouts with bright
brass. buttons, white duck trousers, and richly flowered
vests. There was a splendid salmon, of twenty pounds
weight, at one end of the board; and beside it, on the
same dish, a lake-trout of equal size and beauty. At
UNGAVA. 197

the other end smoked a haunch of venison, covered with
at least an inch of fat; and beside it a bowl of excellent
cranberry jam, the handiwork of the hostess. A boiled
goose and pease-pudding completed the catalogue. After-
wards, these gave place to the pudding which had
caused Bryan so much perplexity, and several dishes of
raisins and figs. Last, but not least, there was a bottle
of brandy and two of port wine ; which, along with the
raisms and figs, formed part of the limited supply of
luxuries furnished by the Hudson’s Bay Company to
Stanley, in common with all the gentlemen in the service,
in order to enable them, now and then, on great occasions,
to recall, through the medium of a feast, the remembrance
of civilized life.

The display in the men’s house was precisely similar
to that in the hall. But the table was larger and the
viands more abundant. The raisins and figs, too, were
wanting; and instead of wine or brandy, there was a
small supply of rum. It was necessarily small, being
the gift of Stanley out of his own diminutive store,
which could not, even if desired, be replenished until the
return of the ship next autumn.

On the arrival of the guests a strange contrast was
presented. The sailors, in white ducks, blue jackets
with brass buttons, striped shirts, pumps, and straw
hats, landed at the appointed hour, and in hearty good-
humour swaggered towards the men’s house, where
they were politely received by the quiet, manly-looking
voyageurs, who, in honour of the occasion, had put on
their best capotes, their brightest belts, their gayest
garters, and most highly-ornamented moccasins. The
French Canadians and half-breeds bowed, shook hands,
and addressed the tars as messiewrs. The sailors
laughed, slapped their entertainers on the shoulders, and
198 UNGAVA.

called them messmates. The Indians stood, grave and
silent, but with looks of good-humour, in the back-
ground; while the Esquimaux raised their fat cheeks,
totally shut up their eyes, and grinned perpetually, not
to say horribly, from ear to ear. But the babel that
followed is beyond the powers of description, therefore
we won't attempt it.

Here, however, the characteristic peculiarity of our
scene ceases. The actual demolition of food is pretty
much the same among all nations that are not absolutely
savage ; and, however much contrast might have been
observed in the strange mixture of human beings as-
sembled under the hospitable roof of Fort Chimo, there
was none whatever in the manner in which they de-
molished their viands. As the evening advanced, a
message was sent to Monsieur Stanley for the loan of
his violin.

“Ay,” said he, as the instrument was delivered to
Bryan, who happened to be the messenger and also the
performer—‘ ay, I thought it would come to that ere
long. Don’t be too hard on the strings, lad. “Twill be
a rough ball where there are no women.”

“Thrue, yer honour,” replied the blacksmith, as he re-
ceived the instrument, “there’s a great want of faymales
in thim parts; but the sailors have consinted to ripresint
the purty craytures on the present occasion, which is
but right, for, ye see, the most o’ thim’s shorter nor us,
an’ their wide breeches are more like the pitticoats than
our leggin’s.”

Many were the stories that were told and re-told,
believed, disbelieved, and doubted, on that memorable
night ; and loud were the songs and long and strong the
dancing that followed. But it was all achieved under
the influence of pure animal spirits, for the rum supplied
UNGAVA. 199

afforded but a thimbleful to each. The consequence
was that there were no headaches the following morn-
ing, and the men were up by break of day as fresh and
light as larks. A feeling of sadness, however, gradually
crept over the band as the dawn advanced and the
schooner prepared for her departure.

By six o'clock the flood-tide turned, and a few
minutes later all the sailors were aboard, hoisting the
sails and anchor, while the men stood silently on the
beach where they had just parted from their guests.

“Good-bye once more, Mr. Stanley; good-bye, Mr.
Morton,” said the captain, as he stepped into his. boat.
“T wish you a pleasant winter and a good trade.”

“Thank you, thank you, captain,” replied Stanley ;
“and don’t forget us out here, in this lonely place, when
you drink the health of absent friends at Christmas
time.”

In afew minutes the anchor was up, and the schooner,
bending round with a fair wind and tide, made for the
narrows.

“Give them a cheer, lads,” said Frank.

Obedient to the command, the men doffed their caps
and raised their voices; but there was little vigour in
the cheer. It was replied to from the schooner’s deck.
Just as the flying-jib passed the point a gun was fired,
which once more awakened the loud echoes of the place.
When the smoke cleared away, the schooner was gone.

Thus was severed the last link that bound the
civilized world to the inhabitants of Fort Chimo.
CHAPTER XX.

Winter approaches—Esquimaux arrive—Effect of a word—A sucking baby—
Prospects of trade.

f° many days after the ship’s departure the work

of completing the fort went forward with the
utmost rapidity, and not until the houses and stores
were rendered weather-tight and warm did Stanley con-
sider it advisable to send out hunting and fishing parties
into the mountains. Now, however, the frosts continued
a great part of the day as well as during the night, so
it was high time to kill deer and fish in order to freeze,
and so preserve them for winter’s consumption.

Up to this time no further traces of Esquimaux had
been discovered, and Stanley began to express his fears
to Frank that they had left the neighbourhood altogether,
in consequence of the repeated attacks made upon them
by Indians. Soon after this, however, the fur-traders
were surprised by a sudden visit from a party of these
denizens of the north.

It happened on the afternoon of a beautiful day to-
wards the close of autumn, that charming but brief
season which, in consequence of its unbroken serenity,
has been styled the Indian summer. The men had all
been despatched into the mountains in various directions,
some to fish, others to shoot; and none were left at the
fort except its commandant with his wife and child, and
UNGAVA. 201

Oolibuck the Esquimau. Stanley was seated on a stone
ab the margin of the bay, admiring the vivid alterations
of light and shade, as the sun dipped behind the moun-
tains of the opposite shore, when his eye was attracted
towards one or two objects on the water near the narrows.
Presently they advanced, and were followed by several
others. In a few minutes he perceived that they were
Esquimau canoes.

Jumping hastily up, Stanley ran to the fort, and bid-
ding his wife and child keep out of sight, put two paix
of pistols in his pockets and returned to the beach, where
he found Oolibuck gazing at the approaching flotilla with
intense eagerness.

“ Well, Oolibuck, here come your countrymen at last,”
said Stanley. “Do they look friendly, think you ?”

“Me no can tell; they most too quiet,” replied the
interpreter.

Esquimaux in general are extremely noisy and full of
animated gesticulation on meeting with strangers, espe-
cially when they meet on decidedly friendly terms. The
silence, therefore, maintained by the natives as they ad-
vanced was looked upon as a bad sign. The fleet con-
sisted of nine kayaks, and three large oomiaks full of
women and children; and a curious appearance they
presented at a distance, for the low kayaks of the men
being almost invisible, it seemed as if their occupants
were actually seated on the water. The oomiaks being
much higher, were clearly visible. On coming to within
a quarter of a mile of the fort, the men halted to allow
the women to come up; then forming in a crescent in
front of the oomiaks, the whole flotilla advanced slowly
towards the beach. When within a hundred yards or
so, Stanley said, “Now, Oolibuck, give them a, hail.”

“Chimo! Chimo! Chimo-o-o!” shouted the interpreter.
202 UNGAVA.

The word acted like a talisman.

“Chimo!” yelled the Esquimaux in reply, and the
kayaks shot like arrows upon the sand, while the women
followed as fast as they could. In another minute a
loud chattering and a brisk shaking of hands was taking
place on shore,

The natives were dressed in the sealskin garments
with which arctic travellers have made us all more or
less acquainted. They were stout burly fellows, with
fat, oily, and bearded faces.

“ Now tell them, Oolibuck, the reason of our coming
here,” said Stanley.

Oolibuck instantly began, by explaining to them that
they had come for the purpose of bringing about peace
and friendship between them and the Indians; on hear-
ing which the Esquimaux danced and shouted for nearly
a minute with joy. But when the interpreter went on
to say that they intended to remain altogether among
them, for the purpose of trading, their delight knew no
bounds; they danced and jumped, and whooped and
yelled, tossed up their arms and legs, and lay down on
the sand and rolled in ecstasy. In the midst of all this,
Mrs. Stanley rushed out of the house, followed by Edith,
in great terror at the unearthly sounds that had reached
her ears; but on seeing her husband and Oolibuck
laughing in the midst of the grotesque group, her fears
vanished, and she stood an amused spectator of the
scene,

Meanwhile, Stanley went down and stepped into the
midst of one of the oomiaks, with a few beads and
trinkets in his hands; and while Oolibuck entertained
the men on shore, he presented gifts to the women, who
received them with the most childish demonstrations of
joy. There was something irresistibly comic in the
UNGAVA. 208

childlike simplicity of these poor natives. Instead of
the stiff reserve and haughty demeanour of their Indian
neighbours, they danced and sang, and leaped and roared,
embraced each other and wept, with the most reckless
indifference to appearances, and seemed upon all occa-
sions to give instant vent to the feelings that happened
to be uppermost in their minds. As Stanley continued
to distribute his gifts, the women crowded out of the
other oomiaks into the one in which he stood, until they
nearly sank it; some of them extending their arms for
beads, others giving a jolt to the hoods on their backs,
which had the effect of bringing to light fat, greasy-faced
little babies, who were pointed to as being peculiarly
worthy of attention.

At length Stanley broke from them and leaped ashore,
where he was soon followed by the entire band. But
here new objects—namely, Mrs. Stanley and Edith—
attracted their wondering attention. Approaching to-
wards the former, they began timidly to examine her
dress, which was indeed very different from theirs, and
calculated to awaken curiosity and surprise. The Esqui-
mau women were dressed very much like the men—
namely, in long shirts of sealskin or deerskin with the
hair on, short breeches of the same material, and long
sealskin boots. The hoods of the women were larger
than those of the men, and their boots much more capa-
cious; and while the latter had a short stump of a tail
or peak hanging from the hinder part of their shirts, the
women wore their tails so long that they trailed along
the ground as they walked. In some cases these tails
were four and six inches broad, with a round flap at the
end, and fringed with ermine. It was, therefore, with
no little surprise that they found Mrs. Stanley entirely
destitute of a tail, and observed that she wore her upper
204 UNGAVA.

garment so long that it reached the ground. Becoming
gradually more familiar, on seeing that the strange
woman permitted them to handle her pretty freely, one
of them gently lifted up her gown to see whether or not
she wore boots; but receiving a somewhat prompt re-
pulse, she began to caress her, and assured her that she
did not mean to give offence.

By this time Frank and some of the men had joined
the group on the shore, and as it was getting late Stanley
commanded silence.

“Tell them I have somewhat to say to them, Ooli-
buck.”

The interpreter’s remark instantly produced a dead
silence,

“Now ask them if they are glad to hear that we are
going to stay to trade with them.”

A vociferous jabbering followed the question, which,
by Oolibuck’s interpretation, meant that their joy was
utterly inexpressible.

“ Have they been long on the coast ?”

“No; they had just arrived, and were on their
way up the river to obtain wood for building their
kayaks.”

“Did they see the bundle of presents we left for them
at the coast?”

“Yes, they had seen it; but not knowing whom it
was intended for, they had not touched it.”

On being told that the presents were intended for
them, the poor creatures put on a look of intense chagrin,
which, however, passed away when it was suggested to
them that they might take the gifts on their return to
the coast.

“And now,” said Stanley, in conclusion, “ ’tis getting
late. Go down to the point below the fort and encamp
UNGAVA. 205

there for the night. We thank you for your visit, and
will return it in the morning. Good-night.”

On this being translated, the Esquimaux gave a gen-
eral yell of assent and immediately retired, bounding
and shouting and leaping as they went, looking, in
their gleesome rotundity, like the infant progeny of a
race of giants.

“T like the look of these men very much,” said Stan-
ley, as he walked up to the house with Frank. “Their
genuine trustfulness is a fine trait in their character.”

“No doubt of it,” replied Frank. “There is much
truth in the proverb, ‘Evil dreaders are evil doers.’
Those who fear no evil intend none. Had they been
Indians, now, we should have had more trouble with
them.”

“T doubt it not, Frank. You would have been pleased
to witness the prompt alacrity with which the poor
creatures answered to our cry of Chimo, and ran their
kayaks fearlessly ashore, although, for all they knew to
the contrary, the rocks might have concealed a hundred
enemies.”

“And yet,” said Frank, with an air of perplexity,
“the Esquimau character seems to me a difficult problem
to solve. When we read the works of arctic voyagers,
we find that one man’s experience of the Esquimaux
proves them to be inveterate thieves and liars; while
another speaks of them as an honest, truthful people,
and that, too, being said of the same tribe. Nay, fur-
ther, I have read of a tribe being all that is good and
amiable at one time, and all that is bad and vile at
another. Now the conduct of these good-natured fel-
lows, in reference to the bundle of trinkets we left at
the mouth of the river, indicates a degree of honesty
that is almost too sensitive; for the merest exertion of
206 UNGAVA.

common sense would show that a bundle hung up in
an exposed place to public view must be for the public
good.”

“Nevertheless they seem both honest and friendly,”
returned Stanley, “and I trust that our experience of
them may never change. To-morrow I shall give them
some good advice in regard to procuring furs, and show
them the wealth of our trading store.”

When the morrow came the visit of the Esquimaux
was returned by the entire force of Fort Chimo, and
the childish delight with which they were received was
most amusing. The childishness, however, was only ap-
plicable to these natives when expressing their strong
' feelings. In other respects, particularly in their physical
actions, they were most manly; and the thick black
beards and moustaches that clothed the chins of most
of the men seemed very much the reverse of infantine.
The children were so exactly like to their parents in
costume, that they seemed miniature representations of
them. In fact, were a child viewed through a magnifying
glass it would become a man, and were a man viewed
through a diminishing glass he would become a child—
always, of course, excepting the beard,

Bryan became a special favourite with the natives
when it was discovered that he was a worker in iron,
and the presents with which he was overwhelmed were
of a most extraordinary, and, in some cases, perplexing
nature. One man, who seemed determined to get into
his good graces, offered him a choice morsel of broiled seal.

“No, thankee, lad,” said Bryan; “I’ve had my brick-
fust.”

Supposing that the broiling had something to do with
the blacksmith’s objection, the Esquimau hastily cut off
a slice of the raw blubber and tendered it to him.
UNGAVA. 207

“D’ye think I’m a haythen?” said Bryan, turning
away in disgust.

“ Ah, try it, Bryan,” cried La Roche, turning from an
Esquimau baby, in the contemplation of which he had
been absorbed—‘try it; “tis ver’ goot, I ‘sure you,
Ver’ goot for your complaint, Bryan. But come here,
vitement. Just regardez dat hinfant. Come here,
queek !”

Thus urged, Bryan broke away from his host, who
had just split open the shin-bone of a deer, and offered
him the raw marrow, but without success; and, going
towards La Roche, regarded the baby in question. It
was a remarkably fine child, seemingly about ten
months old, with a round, rosy, oily face, coal-black
hair, and large, round, coal-black eyes, with which it
returned the stare of the two men with interest. But
that which amused the visitors most was a lump of
fat or blubber, with a skewer thrust through it, which
its mother had given to the child to suck, and which
it was endeavouring to thrust down its throat with
both hands.

“Come here, Oolibuck ; pourquoi is de stick ?”

“Ho! ho! ho!” laughed Oolibuck. “Dat is for keep
de chile quiet ; and de stick is for no let him choke;
him no can swallow de stick.” _

“Musha! but it would stick av he did swallow it,”
said Bryan, turning away with a laugh.

In the course of the day Stanley and Frank conducted
the natives to the fort, and having given them all an
excellent dinner, and a few gifts of needles, scissors, and
knives, led them to the store, where the goods for trade
were ranged temptingly on shelves round the walls. A
counter encompassed a space around the entrance-door,
within which the natives stood and gazed on wealth
208 UNGAVA.

which, to their unsophisticated minds, seemed a dream
of enchantment.

Having given them time to imbibe a conception of the
room and its treasures, Stanley addressed them through
the interpreter; but as reference to this worthy individual
is somewhat hampering, we will discard him forthwith—
retaining his style and language, however, for the benefit
of his fellow-countrymen.

“Now, you see what useful things I have got here for
you; but I cannot give them to you for nothing. They
cost us much, and gave us much trouble to bring them
here. But I will give them for skins and furs and oil,
and the tusks of the walrus; and when you go to your
friends on the sea-coast, you can tell them to bring skins
with them when they come.”

“Ve vill do vat you vish. Ve most happy you come.
Ve vill hunt very mush, and make your house empty of
all dese tings if ve can.”

“That’s well. And now I am in need of boots for
my men, and you have a good many, I see; so, if you
can spare some of these, we will begin to trade at once.”

On hearing this, the natives despatched several of their
number down to the camp, who soon returned laden
with boots. These boots are most useful articles. They
are neatly made of sealskin, the feet or soles being of
walrus hide, and perfectly waterproof. They are in-
valuable to those who have to walk much in ice-cold
water or among moist snow, as is the case in those
regions during spring and autumn. In winter the frost
completely does away with all moisture, so that the
Indian moccasin is better at that season than the Es-
quimau boot.

For these boots, and a few articles of native clothing,
Stanley paid the natives at the rates of the regular tariff
UNGAVA. 209

throughout the country ; and this rate was so much be-
yond the poor Esquimau estimate of the relative value
of boots and goods, that they would gladly have given
all the boots and coats they possessed for what they re-
ceived as the value of one pair.

Overjoyed at their good fortune, and laden with
treasure, they returned to their camp to feast, and to
sing the praises of the Kublwnat, as they termed the
fur-traders.

14
CHAPTER XXI.

Silent conversation—Raw food—Female tails—A terrible battle terminated by
the interposition of a giant.

F all the people at Fort Chimo no one was more
interested in the Esquimaux than little Edith.
She not only went fearlessly among them, and bestowed
upon them every trinket she possessed, but, in her
childlike desire for the companionship and sympathy of
human beings of her own age and sex, she took forcible
possession of two little girls who happened to be cleaner,
and, therefore, prettier than the others, and led them
away to her own ravine, where she introduced them to
her favourite berries and to her dog Chimo. At first |
the dog did not seem to relish the intrusion of these
- new favourites, but seeing that they did not induce
his mistress to caress him less than before, he consider-
ately tolerated them. Besides, the Esquimaux had
brought their dogs along with them, and Chimo, being
of an amicable disposition, had entered into social fellow-
ship with his own kind. We have said that Chimo
was sagacious, and it is quite possible he may have felt
the propriety of granting to Edith that liberty which he
undoubtedly claimed for himself.
But Edith’s intercourse with her little Esquimau pro-.
tégées was necessarily confined to looks, the language of
the eye making up for the absence of that of the tongue.
UNGAVA. 211

There were many things, however, in which language
was not required as a medium of communication between
the children. When the berries were good, the brighten-
ing eyes and smacking lips spoke a language common
to all the human race. So, also, when the berries were
sour or bitter, the expression of their faces was peculiarly
emphatic. The joyous shout, too, as they discovered a
new scene that pleased their eyes, while they roved
hand in hand through the ravines, or the shrinking
glance of fear as they found themselves unexpectedly
on the edge of a precipice, was sufficiently intelligible
to the trio. The little friends presented a striking and
grotesque contrast. It would have been difficult to say
whether the little Esquimaux were boys or girls. If
anything, the costume seemed more to indicate the
former than the latter. Like their mothers, they wore
loose deerskin shirts with the hair on the outside, which
gave them a round, soft, burly appearance—an appear-
ance which was increased by their little boots, which
were outrageously wide, and quite as long as their legs.
The frocks or shirts had hoods and tails, which latter,
according to fashion, were so long that they trailed on
the ground. The inconvenience of the tail is so great
that the women, while travelling on a journey, get rid
of it by drawing it between their legs, and, lifting up
the end, fastening it in front to a button sewed to their
frock for the purpose. In travelling, therefore, Esqui-
mau women seem to be destitute of this appendage;
but, on arriving at camp, they undo the fastening, and
walk about with flowing tails behind them!

Edith’s costume consisted of a short frock made of
dark blue cloth, and a head-dress peculiar to the Indian
women among the Crees. It was preferred by the little
wearer to all other styles of bonnet, on account of the
212 UNGAVA.

ease with which it could be thrown off and on. She
also wore ornamented leggings and moccasins. Alto-
gether, with her graceful figure, flaxen curls, and pic-
turesque costume, she presented a strong contrast to the
fat, dark, hairy little creatures who followed her by
brook and bush and precipice the livelong day.

One morning, about two weeks after the arrival of
the Esquimaux, Edith went down to the camp after
breakfast, and found her two companions engaged in
concluding their morning meal. The elder, whose name
was Arnalooa, was peering with earnest scrutiny into
the depths of a marrow-bone, from which she had al-
ready extracted a large proportion of the raw material.
The younger, Okatook, seized a lump of raw seal’s flesh,
as Edith entered their hut, and, cutting therefrom a
savoury morsel, put it into her mouth as she rose to
welcome her visitor.

“Oh! how can you?” said Edith, with a look of dis-
gust at this ravenous conduct on the part of her friend.
But Edith had said, “Oh! how can you?” and “Oh!
shocking,” and “Oh! why don’t you give up eating it
raw?” and “Oh! why won’t you have it cooked?”
nearly every day for the last two weeks, without pro-
ducing any other effect than a gleeful laugh from the
little Esquimaux ; for, although they did not comprehend
her words, they clearly understood her looks of dis-
approval. But although they would not give up the
habit of eating raw flesh, which théy had been accus-
tomed to from their infancy, they were prevailed on so
far to break through the habits of their people as to
wash their hands and faces before going out to play.
This they did because Edith positively refused to go
with them unless they did so.

Lifting up the end of her tail and wiping her mouth
UNGAVA. 213

therewith, Arnalooa smiled at Edith’s look of reproach,
and ran laughing towards the shore, where she and
Okatook washed their hands, after which they followed
Edith and Chimo to their favourite ravine. Although
she knew that they did not understand a word of what
she said, Edith invariably kept up a running fire of
small talk, in reference chiefly to the objects of nature
by which they were surrounded. To this the little
hairy creatures listened intently with smiling faces,
and sometimes they laughed prodigiously, as though
they understood what was said, so that their companion
felt as if she were really conversing with them, although
she was sadly perplexed at the utter impossibility of
obtaining an intelligible reply to a question when she
chanced to put one.

“Oh, what a lovely glen!” cried Edith, her eyes
beaming with delight, as, on turning the point of a
projecting crag, she and her companions found themselves
in a spot which they had not before seen during their
rambles. It was a wild, savage gorge, full of fallen rocks,
hemmed in with high cliffs, fringed here and there with
willows and mosses, among which were a few brilliant
wild-flowers. The lights and shadows of the spot were
thrown into powerful contrast by a gleam of sunshine
which flashed down among the rugged masses, lighting
up peaks and sharp edges in some spots, while in others
they were thrown into the profoundest gloom.

“Oh! is it not a delightful place?” cried Edith, as
she bounded up the rugged path, followed by Chimo,
while the two Esquimau girls buttoned up their tails,
and followed her as fast as their more cumbrous habili-
ments would permit.

For a quarter of an hour the party toiled up the steep
ascent, pausing now and then to pluck a flower, or to
214, UNGAVA.

look back on the wild path by which they had come,
until they reached a ridge of rock, beyond which lay a
small lake or pool. So dark and still did it lie within
the shadow of the overhanging cliffs that it resembled
a pool of ink. Here the adventurous explorers sat down
to recover breath, and to gaze in childish delight, not
unmixed with awe, at the wild scene around them.

The peculiar wildness of the spot seemed to exercise
an unusual influence over the dog; for, instead of lying
down, as it was wont to do, at the feet of its young
mistress, it moved about uneasily, and once or twice
uttered a low growl.

“Come here, Chimo,” said Edith, when these symptoms
of restlessness had attracted her attention; “what is the
matter with you, my dear dog? Surely you are not
frightened at the appearance of this wild place! Speak,
dog—see, Arnalooa is laughing at you.”

Edith might have said with more propriety that
Arnalooa was laughing at herself, for the little Esqui-
mau was much amused at the serious manner in which
her Kublunat friend spoke to her dog. But Chimo
refused to be comforted. He raised his snout, snuffed
the air once or twice, and then, descending the gorge a
short distance, put his nose close to the ground and
trotted away.

“That is very odd of Chimo,” said Edith, looking into
Arnalooa's face with an expression of perplexity.

As she spoke Okatook pointed, with an eager glance,
up the ravine. Turning her eyes hastily in the direction
indicated, Edith beheld a deer bounding towards them.
It was closely followed by a savage wolf. The deer
seemed to be in the last stage of exhaustion. Its flanks
were wet with moisture, its eyes starting from their
sockets, and its breath issued forth in deep sobs, as it
UNGAVA. 215

bounded onwards, seemingly more by the force of its
impetus than by any voluntary exertion. More intent
on the danger behind than on that which lay before it,
the deer made straight for the pass in which the three
girls stood, and scarcely had they time to spring up the
sides of the cliff, when it swept by like an arrow.
Instantly after, and ere it had taken two bounds past
them, the wolf sprang forward, caught it by the throat,
and dragged it to the ground, where, in a few seconds,
it worried the noble animal to death. It is probable
that the chase now terminated had begun at early dawn
that day, for deer being fleeter than wolves they pro-
long the chase until overcome by the superior strength
and dogged perseverance of their ravenous enemies.
Over mountain and hill they had bounded along together,
through glen and gorge, across river and lake, bursting
headlong through bush and brake, or under the shadow
of frowning cliffs, and toiling, at a foot pace and with
panting sides, up the steep hills, in the fierce blaze of
the sun—the one impelled by hunger, the other by
fear, until at length the scene closed in the wild pass,
almost at the feet of the three children.

But retribution was in store for the savage destroyer.
Ere yet the life’s blood had ceased to flow from the
throat of the dying deer, and while the wolf's fangs
were still dripping with its gore, a fierce bark, followed
by a terrific growl, rang among the cliffs, and Chimo,
with his ears laid back and his formidable row of teeth
exposed, rushed up the gorge and seized the wolf by the
neck! Thus assailed, the wolf returned the bite with
interest, and immediately a fight of the most energetic
character ensued.

The wolf was much larger and more powerful than
Chimo, but was greatly exhausted by its long chase,
216 UNGAVA.

while the dog was fresh and vigorous. Once or twice
Chimo tossed his huge adversary by main strength, but
as often he was overturned and dreadfully shaken,
while the long fangs of the wolf met in his neck, an
mingled the blood of the deer, which bespattered his
black muzzle, with the life’s blood that began to flow
copiously from Chimo’s veins. At this moment a shont
was heard farther up the ravine. The three girls turned
hastily, and saw, on a point of rock which projectad
from the mountain side and overhung the dark pool,
the figure of a man, of such immense proportions that
they instinctively shrank back with terror. The position
in which he stood made him appear larger than he
really was. The scattered gleams and slant rays of sun-
shine that played around the spot invested him as with
a supernatural halo, while a bright glow of light on the
cliff behind detached him prominently from the sur-
rounding shadows. He poised a spear in his right hand,
and, while Edith gazed at him in terror, the weapon
flew whistling through the air and was buried in the
side of the wolf. But so close did the spear pass, that
Edith involuntarily stepped back as she heard it whiz.
In doing so she lost her balance and fell over the cliff.
Fortunately “Arnalooa caught her by the dress and
partially broke her fall, but the descent was sufficiently
steep and rugged to render the child insensible.

When Edith recovered consciousness, her first emotion
was that of terror, on beholding a large dark bearded
face bending over her; but a second glance showed
her that the eyes of the stranger gazed upon her
with a look of tenderness, and that Arnalooa and
Okatook were kneeling beside her with an expression of
anxiety. Had anything further been wanting to allay
her fears, the sight of Chimo would have done it. It is
UNGAVA. 217

true the sturdy dog panted heavily, and occasionally
licked his wounds, as he sat on his haunches at her
feet; but he was wonderfully calm and collected after
his recent mortal conflict, and regarded his young
mistress from time to time with an air of patronizing
assurance.

As Edith opened her eyes, the stranger muttered
some unintelligible words, and, rising hastily, went to a
neighbouring spring, at which he filled a rude cup with
water. In doing this, he revealed the huge proportions
of the gigantic Esquimau whom we introduced to our
reader in a former chapter. He was dressed in the
same manner as when we first saw him, but his face
was somewhat altered, and his black eye-brows were
marked by that peculiar curve which is expressive of
deep melancholy. Returning quickly from the spring,
he kneeled beside the little girl, and, raising her head
on his broad hand, held the goblet to her lips.

“Thank you,” said Edith faintly, as she swallowed a
few drops; “I think I had better go home. Is Chimo
safe? Chimo!” She started up as the recollection of
the fight with the wolf flashed upon her; but the fall
had stunned her rather severely, and scarcely had she
risen to her feet when she staggered and fell back into
the arms of the Esquimau.

Seeing that she was quite unable to walk, he raised
her in his powerful arm as if she had been a young
lamb. Catching the dead wolf by the neck as he passed,
and springing from rock to rock with cat-like agility,
he bore his burden down the ravine, and strode towards
the fort under the guidance of Okatook and Arnalooa.
CHAPTER XXII.

Maxinus—Deer spearing—A surprisingly bad shot—Character of the natives.

i ALLO! what have we here?” exclaimed Stanley,

starting from his seat in amazement, as the
giant entered the hall of Fort Chimo—his left hand
grasping a blood-stained wolf by the throat, and Hdith
resting in his right arm.

At first the startled father imagined his child must
have been wounded, if not killed, by the savage animal ;
but his mind was immediately relieved on this point by
Edith herself, who was no sooner laid on her bed than
she recovered sufficiently to narrate the circumstances
attending her fall.

“Well, Maximus,” said Stanley, returning to the hall
and applying to the bulky savage the term that seemed
most appropriate to him, “shake hands with me, my
good fellow. You've saved Chimo’s life, it seems; and
that’s a good turn Till not forget. But a—, I see you
don’t understand a word I say. Hallo! Moses, Moses!
you deaf rascal, come here!” he shouted, as that worthy
passed the window.

“ Yis, mogsue,” said Moses, entering the hall. “Oh,
me! what a walrus am dis! Me do b/lieve him most
high as a tree an’ more broader nor iveryting !”

“Hold thy tongue, Moses, and ask the fellow where
he came from ; but tell him first that I’m obliged to him
for saving Chimo from that villanous wolf.”
UNGAVA. 219

While Moses interpreted, Arnalooa and Okatook, being
privileged members of the tribe, crossed over to Kdith’s
room.

“Well, what says he?” inquired Stanley, at the end
of a long address which the giant had delivered to
Moses.

“Him say he heered we have come to trade, from
Eiskeemo to west’ard, and so him come for to see us.”

“A most excellent reason,” said Stanley. “Has he
brought any furs ?”

“Yis; him brought one two fox, and two tree deer.
No have much furs in dis country, him say.”

“Sorry to hear that. Perhaps his opinion may change
when he sees the inside of our store. But I would like
him to stay about the fort as a hunter, Moses; he seems
a first-rate man. Ask him if he will consent to stay for
a time.”

“ P’raps he fuss-rate, p’raps not,” muttered Moses in a
disparaging tone, as he turned to put the question.

“Tim say yis.”

“Very good; then take him to your house, Moses,
and give him some food and a pipe, and teach him
[ahah as fast as you can, and see that it is grammatical
D'ye hear ?”

“Yis, mossue, me quite sure for to teach him dat.”

As Moses turned to quit the hall, Stanley called him
back. “Ask Maximus, by-the-by, if he knows any-
thing of a party of Esquimaux who seem to have been
attacked, not long ago, by Indians in this neighbour-
hood.”

No sooner was this question put than the face of
Maximus, which had worn a placid, smiling expression
during the foregoing conversation, totally changed. His
brows lowered, and his lips were tightly compressed, as
220 UNGAVA.

he regarded Stanley for a few moments ere he ventured
to reply. Then, in a deep, earnest tone, he related the
attack, the slaughter of his people, their subsequent
escape, and the loss of his bride. Even Moses was
agitated as he went on, and showed his teeth like an
enraged mastiff when the Esquimau came to speak of
his irreparable loss.

“Stay one moment,” said Stanley, when Maximus
concluded. “I have something to show you;” and
hastening into his room, he quickly returned with the
little piece of sealskin that had been found at the
deserted Indian camp. “Do you know anything of
this, Maximus? Do you understand these marks ?”

The Esquimau uttered a cry of surprise when his eye
fell on the piece of skin, and he seemed much agitated.
while he put several quick, earnest questions to Moses,
who replied as earnestly and quickly; then turning
rapidly on his heel, he sprang through the doorway,
and was soon lost to view in the stunted woods of the
ravine above the fort.

“That fellow seems in a hurry,’ exclaimed Frank
Morton, entering the room just as the savage made his
exit. “Who is he, and wherefore in so great haste?”

“As to who he is,” answered Stanley, “Tl tell you
that after Moses has explained the cause of his sudden
flight.”

“He say that him’s wife make dat skin, and de
arrow on him skin show dat de Injuns take her to deir
tents.”

“But did you not tell him that we found the skin
long ago, and that the Indians must be far, far away by
this time—nobody knows where?” demanded Frank.

“Yis, me tell him. But he go for to see de spot.
Tink him find more t’ings, p’raps.”
UNGAVA. 221

“Oh, messieurs, voila!” shouted La Roche, pointing
towards the river, as he rushed, breathless with haste,
into the hall; “les Esquimaux, dem kill all de deer dans
le kontry. Oui, voila! dans les kayak. Two dozen at
vonce—vraiment!” Without waiting a reply, the ex-
cited Frenchman turned round and rushed out of the
house, followed by Stanley and Frank, who seized their
guns, which always hung ready loaded on the walls of
the apartment.

On reaching the water's edge, the scene that met their
eye was indeed sufficient to account for the excitement
of La Roche. A herd of perhaps fifty or sixty deer, on
their way to the coast, and ignorant of the foes who
had so recently invaded their solitudes, had descended
the ravine opposite the fort, with the intention of cross-
ing the river. The Esquimaux had perceived this, and
keeping themselves and their kayaks concealed until
most of the animals were in the water, and the leaders
of the herd more than two-thirds over, they then gave
chase, and, getting between the deer and the opposite
shore, cut off their retreat, and drove them towards their
encampment.

Here the slaughter commenced, and Stanley and
Frank arrived at the scene of action while they were in
the midst of the wholesale destruction. In all directions
the kayaks, with their solitary occupants, were darting
about hither and thither like arrows in the midst of the
affrighted animals ; none of which, however, were speared
until they were driven quite close to the shore. In their
terror, the deer endeavoured to escape by swimming in
different directions; but the long double-bladed paddles
of the Esquimaux sent the light kayaks after them like
lightning, and a sharp prick on their flanks turned them
in the right direction. There were so many deer, how-
222 UNGAVA.

ever, that a few succeeded in gaining the land; but here
the guns of the traders awaited them. In the midst of
this wild scene, Frank’s attention was arrested by the
cool proceedings of an Esquimau, whose name was
Chacooto. He had several times exhibited a degree of
shrewdness beyond his fellows during his residence near
the fort, and was evidently a man of importance in the
tribe. Chacooto had collected together a band of the
herd, amounting to fifteen, and, by dint of cool decision
and quick movements, had driven them to within a few
yards of the shore, exactly opposite the spot whereon his
tent stood. One young buck, of about two years old,
darted away from the rest more than once, but, with a
sweep of the paddle and a prick of the lance, Chacooto
turned it back again, while a quiet sarcastic smile played
on his countenance. Having driven the herd close
enough in for his purpose, the Esquimau ended the
career of the refractory buck with a single thrust of his
lance, and then proceeded coolly to stab them all one
after another.

“Och, the spalpeen!” said a voice at Frank’s ear.
“Tis himsilf knows how to do it, an’ no mistake.
Musha ! his lance goes out and in like a thailor’s needle;
an’ he niver strikes more nor wance, the haythen !”

“He certainly does know how to do it, Bryan,” replied
Frank; “and it’s a comfort to know that every thrust
kills in a moment. I like to see as little of the appear-
ance of cruelty as possible in work of this kind.”

“ Arrah! there’s wan that'll chate ’im, anyhow,” cried
Bryan, throwing forward his gun in nervous haste, as
one of the deer gained the land, despite Chacooto’s
rapidity, and bounded towards the hills.

Frank smiled at the eager haste of his companion.
who was one of the poor shots of the party, and, con-
UNGAVA. 998

sequently, always in a hurry. “Now, Bryan, there’s a
chance. Take your time. Just behind the shoulder; a
little low, for that gun kicks horribly.”

“Murder and blazes, she won't go off!” cried the
exasperated Irishman, as, after a wavering effort to take
aim, he essayed unsuccessfully to pull the trigger.

“ Half-cock, man! Cock it!” said Frank quickly.

“So ’tis, be the mortial! Och, Bryan, yer too cliver,
ye are!” he exclaimed, rectifying his error with a force
that nearly tore off the dog-head. At that instant there
was a sharp crack, and the deer, bounding into the air,
fell dead on the sand at the edge of the willows.

“Forgive me, Bryan,” said Massan, chuckling and
reloading his piece as he walked up to his comrade. “TI
would not ha’ taken’t out o’ yer teeth, lad, if ye had
been ready; but one bound more would ha’ put the
beast beyond the reach o’ a bullet.”

“Faix, Massan, ye desarve to be hanged for murther.
Shure I was waitin’ till the poor crayture got into the
bushes, to give it a chance o’ its life, before I fired.
That’s the way that gintlemen from the ould country
does when we're out sportin’. We always put up the
birds first, and fire afterwards ; but you salvages murther
a poor brute on the sand, whin it’s only two fathoms
from ye. Shame on ye, Massan.”

“See, Massan,” cried Frank, pointing to another deer,
which, having escaped its pursuers, had gained the
heights above. “That fellow is beyond us both, I fear.
Be ready when it comes into view beyond the cliff
there.”

But Massan did not move; and when Frank threw
forward his gun, he felt his arm arrested.

“Pardon me, monsieur,” said Massan respectfully ;
“there’s a sure bullet about to start for that deer.”
224, UNGAVA.

As he spoke, he pointed to Dick Prince, who, ignorant
of the fact that the deer had been seen by Frank, was
watching its re-appearance from behind a neighbouring
rock, at some distance from where they stood. In a
second it came into view—the bullet sped—and the
deer bounded lightly into the bushes, evidently unhurt!

It is difficult to say whether Dick Prince or his
comrades exhibited most amazement in their looks at
this result. That the crack shot of the party—the man
who could hit a button in the centre at a hundred yards,
and cut the head off a partridge at a hundred and fifty
—should miss a deer at ninety yards, was utterly in-
comprehensible.

“Ts it yer own gun ye’ve got?” inquired Bryan, as
the discomfited marksman walked up.

“No; it’s yours,” replied Prince.

A smile, which resolved itself into a myriad of
wrinkles, flitted over the blacksmith’s face as he said,—

“Ah, Prince! ye’ll requare long practice to come to
the parfect use 0 that wipon. I’ve always fired three
yards, at laste, to the left, iver since we fell over the
hill togither. If it’s a very long shot, it requares four
to take the baste in the flank, or four an’ a half if ye
want to hit the shoulder, besides an allowance o’ two
feet above its head, to make up for the twist I gave it
the other day in the forge, in tryin’ to put it right!”

This explanation was satisfactory to all parties, espe-
cially so to Prince, who felt that his credit was saved ;
and if Prince had a weakness at all, it was upon this point.

The deer were now all killed, with the exception of
those of the band that had been last in entering the
river. These, with a few stragglers, had returned to
the shore from which they started. The remainder of
the evening was devoted to skinning and cutting up the
UNGAVA. 225

carcasses—an operation requiring considerable time, skill,
and labour.

While the people at the fort were thus employed,
Maximus (who adopted at once the name given to him
by Stanley) returned from his fruitless journey to the
Indian camp, and assisted the men at their work. He
made no allusion whatever to his visit to the deserted
Indian camp; but, from the settled expression of deep
sadness that clouded his countenance, it was inferred
that what he had seen there had not tended to raise his
hopes.

The supply of deer obtained at this time was very
seasonable, for the frost had now begun to set in so
steadily that the meat could be hung up to freeze, and
thus be kept fresh for winter’s consumption. Some of
it, however, was dried and stored away in bales; while a
small quantity was pounded after being dried, made into
pemmican, and reserved for future journeys.

As for the Esquimaux, they gave themselves up,
during the first night, to feasting and rejoicing. During
the short time that they had been at the fort, they had
converted the promontory on which they were encamped
into a scene of the utmost confusion and filth. A regard
for truth constrains us to say, that although these poor
creatures turned out to be honest, and simple, and kind-
hearted, they did not by any means turn out to be
cleanly ; quite the reverse.

They had erected four summer tents on the beach,
which were composed of skins sewed together, and sup-
ported on poles in such a way as to afford ample room
for the accommodation of their families. The entrance to
each tent was through a passage, which was also made
of skins, hung over a line fastened to a pole at the
distance of twelve or fifteen feet from the tent. Each

15
226 UNGAVA.

side of this entrance was lined with piles of provisions—
seals, fish, ducks, and venison, in various stages of decay,
which rendered the passage into the interior a trying
operation. True, it was intended that the frost should
prevent this decay ; but, unfortunately, the frost did not
always do its duty. The manner in which they cut up
their deer and prepared them for future use was curious.
After cutting the animals into two, without skinning
them, they pinned up the front half with the heart and
liver in the cavity. The other half they treated in a
similar way, minus the heart and liver, and then put
them out to freeze until required. When frozen, they
were frequently used in their tents as seats, until the
gradual diminution of the larder demanded that they
should be appropriated to their proper use.

The tribe of Esquimaux who resided near Fort Chimo
at this time were possessed of an enormous stone ketile,
in which they boiled an entire deer at one time; and
while the good people luxuriated on the flesh of the
animal in their tents, the dogs assembled round the
boiler to await the cooling of the soup—thus verifying
the assertion formerly made by Massan on that head.

The dogs resembled those of, the Newfoundland breed
in some respects, but were scarcely so large or good-
looking, and had erect instead of pendent ears. There
were about a dozen of them; and it was wonderful to
observe the patience with which they sat in a circle
round the kettle, gazing earnestly at the soup, licking
their chaps the while, in anticipation of the feast.

The successful hunt was regarded as worthy of being
specially celebrated by the distribution of a glass of grog
to the men, and also to the Esquimaux; for at the time
we write of, the Hudson’s Bay Company had not yet
instituted the wise and humane regulation which has
UNGAVA. 227

since become a standing order throughout all parts of
the country, except where there is opposition—namely,
that ardent spirits shall not be given to the natives.
However, Stanley’s natural disposition led him to be
very circumspect in giving spirits to the men and
natives, and the supply now issued was very small.

In the men it produced a desire for the violin, and
created a tendency to sing and tell stories. In the
Esquimaux it produced at first dislike, and afterwards
wild excitement, which, in the case of Chacooto, ended
in a desire to fight. But his comrades, assisted by his
wives, overpowered him, tied him in a sack made of seal-
skin, and left him to roar and kick till he fell asleep!

The honesty of these natives was exhibited very
strikingly in all their dealings with the fur-traders.
Although iron tools of every description were scattered
about the fort, while the men were engaged in erecting
the several buildings, not one was missed; and even the
useless nails and scraps of metal that were thrown away,
when they were found by chance by the Esquimaux,
were always brought to the house, and the question
asked, “Were they of any use?” before being appro-
priated. They were great beggars, however; which was
not surprising, considering the value of the articles
possessed by the traders, and their own limited means of
purchasing them. Their chief wealth at this time lay
in boots and deerskins, which the women were con-
stantly employed in preparing; but Stanley urged them
to go into the interior and hunt, as, although deerskins
and boots were useful, furs were infinitely more valuable.
But the Esquimaux had much too lively a dread of the
Indians to venture away from the. coast, and seemed
inclined to hang about the place in comparative idleness
much longer than was, desirable.
CHAPTER XXIII.

More arrivals—Honesty—Indians come upon the scene—The tribes reconciled—
Disease and death change the aspect of things—Philosophic discourse.

DAY or two after the successful deer-hunt above
related, several bands of Esquimaux arrived at
Fort Chimo, and encamped beside their comrades. This
unusual influx of visitors soon exhausted the venison
that had been procured; but hunting parties were con-
stantly on the alert, and as game of all kinds was
plentiful, they lived in the midst of abundance. To all
of these Stanley made small presents of beads and to-
bacco, and recommended them strongly to go and hunt
for furs. But they seemed to like their quarters, and
refused to move. The new arrivals, along with those
who had first come, formed a band of about three hun-
dred, and were found, almost without exception, to be
a quiet, inoffensive, and honest people.

As a proof of this latter quality, we may mention a
circumstance that occurred a few days after the arrival
of the last band. Being desirous of taking some addi-
tional soundings, Stanley launched his boat by the help
of the Esquimaux, for his own men were all absent
hunting and fishing. The boat referred to had been
sent to the fort in the ship, and was a most useful and
acceptable gift from the Governor of the Fur Company
to the gentleman in charge of Ungava. Stanley hoisted
UNGAVA. 229

his sails, and prepared to run down the river; but ere
he had advanced a hundred yards, he was startled by
a burst of loud cries from the shore, and, looking back,
he observed the whole band of natives pouring like a
torrent into the fort! His heart leaped within him as
he thought of his unprotected wife and child. Turning
the boat towards the shore, he ran it on the beach, and,
leaving it with all the sails standing, he rushed into the
square of the fort, forcing his way through the crush of
natives, whose vociferous talking rendered what they
said, for a time, unintelligible. At length Moses forced
his way through the crowd, followed by one of the
natives, who led a large dog by a line fastened round its
neck.

“What's the matter, Moses? what’s wrong?” cried
Stanley.

“Oh, not’ing at all,” replied Moses, casting a look of
pity at his countrymen. “Dem are great gooses. Dis
man here wid de dog, him say dat de child’n was play
in de square of dis fort, an’ one o’ dem trow stone and
broke a window. It was de son ob dis man what do it,
an’ him say he most awful sorry—an’ all de people
sorry, so dey bring de dog to pay for de broken
window.”

“Tm glad it’s nothing worse,” cried Stanley, much
relieved. “Tell them I’m happy to find they are sorry,
and I hope they will keep the children out of the square
in future; but I don’t want the dog. It was an acci-
dent, and not worth making such a noise about.”

The Esquimaux, however, would not agree to look -
upon this accident as a light matter. They said truly,
that glass was not to be got so easily as the ice-blocks
with which they formed windows to their own winter
houses, so they insisted on the dog being accepted; and
230 UNGAVA.

at length Stanley gave in, but took care that the native
who gave it should not be a loser in consequence of his
honesty. Moreover, Stanley begged of them to send up
several of their best dogs, saying that he would -purchase
them, as he was in want of a team for hauling the
winter firewood.

Next day, while Stanley was engaged in the trading
store with a party of Esquimaux, he was surprised by
hearing a volley of musketry fired at the back of the
fort. Snatching up a loaded gun as he ran hastily out,
he found that the shots had been fired by a band of
Indians as a salute to the fort on their arrival.

This was the first time that Indians had made their
appearance since the arrival of the fur-traders; and
their advent at the present time was most fortunate, as
it afforded Stanley an opportunity of commencing his
negotiations as peace-maker in the presence of a con-
siderable band of both parties. The Indians, fifteen in
number, were all clothed, with the exception of their
chief, in deerskin hunting shirts, ornamented moccasins
of the same material, and cloth leggings. They wore
no head-dress, but their long, straight, black hair was
decorated with feathers and small metallic ornaments,
among which were several silver thimbles. Their
powder-horns and shot-pouches were gaily ornamented
with bead and quill work; and they were all armed
with long guns, on which they leaned as they stood
silently, in a picturesque group, on the flat rocky plat-
form above the spring, which has been more than once
alluded to.

This platform overlooked the fort, and was a favourite —
promenade of the traders. At present it formed a sort
of neutral ground, on which the Indians took their
stand. The red men were overawed by the very su-
UNGAVA. 231

petior number of the Esquimaux, and felt that they
were safe only so long as they stood on the flat rock,
which was the only path leading to the ravine, through
which, if need be, they could easily escape into the
mountains.

The chief of the Indians, unlike his fellows, was
dressed in a costume of the most grotesque and brilliant
character, and, certainly, one which, however much it
might raise the admiration of his savage companions,
did not add to his dignity in the eyes of the traders.
He wore a long, bright scarlet coat, richly embroidered
with gold lace, with large cuffs, and gilt buttons ; a pair
of blue cloth trousers, and a vest of the same material ;
a broad worsted sash, and a hat in the form of the
ordinary beaver or silk hat of Europe. The material,
however, was very coarse; but this was made up for by
the silver, and gilt cords, and tassels with which it was
profusely decorated. He evidently felt his own import-
ance, and stood with a calm, dignified gaze, waiting to
be addressed.

Hailing Ma-istequan, who leaned on the axe with
which he had been cutting firewood when the volley of
the Indians arrested him, Stanley bade him invite them
to enter the fort.

“We cannot come down,” replied the chief, after
Ma-istequan had given the invitation. “The Eskimos
are in numbers like the stars; we are few. If the
pale-faces are our friends, let them come up here and
take us by the hand and bring us down.”

“Very reasonable,” said Stanley to Frank, who stood
beside him ; “we must take care that the Esquimaux do
not take advantage of their numbers to avenge their
ancient wrongs.”

Then, turning to the natives, who had now crowded
232 UNGAVA.

in large numbers into the fort, Stanley addressed them
in a serious tone; told them that the time had now
come when he hoped to reconcile the Innuit and the
Allat* together; and that he expected they would show
their gratitude for his many kindnesses to them by
treating the Indians, who were his friends, with hos-
pitality. The Esquimaux promised obedience, after
which Stanley ascended to the promenade, and taking
the Indian chief by the hand, led him towards the fort,
followed by the whole band in single file.

It is not necessary to detail the speeches that followed
on both sides on this occasion, and the eloquence that
was expended that evening in the cause of peace.
Suffice it to say that the Indians and Esquimaux shook
hands and exchanged gifts in the presence of the assem-
bled garrison of Fort Chimo. But although the traders
had reason to congratulate themselves on having so far
succeeded in the establishment of peace, they could not
conceal from themselves the fact that while, on the
one hand, the Esquimaux appeared to be perfectly
sincere and cordial in their professions, on the other
hand the Indians evinced a good deal of taciturnity at
first, and even after their reserve was overcome, seemed
to act as men do who are constrained to the performance
of a distasteful action.

In general character, the Indians of Labrador do not
contrast well with the Esquimaux—at least this may
with truth be said of those who afterwards became
attached to the district of Ungava. The Indian is
reserved and taciturn, while the Esquimau is candid,
frank, and communicative. Of course there are excep-
tions on both sides.

On the evening of the same day, Stanley had much

* Hsquimau name for Indians.
UNGAVA. 233

difficulty in overcoming the reserve of the Indians, so as
to procure information regarding the interior; and it
was not until their hearts were opened by the influence
of tobacco, that they condescended to give the required
information. This was to the effect that there were
not many fur-bearing animals in the immediate vicinity
of Ungava, but that there were a good many in the
wooded country lying to the southward and eastward.
Here, however, the Indians do not care to hunt, pre-
ferring rather to keep to the heights of land, and near
the coast, where the deer are numerous. In fact, Stan-
ley afterwards found that the facility with which the
Indians procured deer in this part of the country was
a serious drawback to the fur trade, as they contented
themselves with trapping just enough of otters, foxes,
etc., to enable them to procure a supply of ammunition
with which to hunt the deer.

The Indians had brov-zht a few beaver and other furs
to trade, and, after receiving a good meal and a few
presents, they took up their quarters on a plot of ground
close to the fort. Here they lived a short time in per-
fect friendship with the Esquimaux, visiting them, and
hunting in company ; but more than once they exhibited
their natural disposition by stealing the goods of their
neighbours. On one occasion, two Esquimau children
were missed from the camp, and in the course of the
day they returned to their parents clothed in Indian
costume! ‘This was a very polite piece of attention on
the part of the Indians, but the effect of it was much
marred, the same day, by the abstraction of a knife
from an Esquimau tent. Stanley insisted on the
article being restored, and severely reprimanded the
offender. But, although the general harmony of the
camp was sometimes broken by such events, the friend-
234 UNGAVA.

ship between the two parties seemed to be gradually
increasing, and Stanley saw with satisfaction that the
Allat and the Innuit bade fair to become fast friends
for the future.

But an event occurred at this time which put an end
to their intercourse, and very much altered the aspect of
affairs. For some time past the men at the fort had
been subject to rather severe attacks of cold, or a species
of influenza. This they unfortunately communicated to
the Esquimaux, who seemed to be peculiarly susceptible
of the disease. Being very fat and full-blooded, it had
the most dreadful effect on the poor creatures, and at a
certain stage almost choked them. At last one night it
was reported that ten of their number had died from
absolute suffocation, All of these had been strong and
robust, and they died after two days’ illness.

One of those who were attacked was Edith’s little
friend, Arnalooa, and just before the ten Esquimaux
died, Edith had gone down to the camp with a present
of beads to console her. She found her much better,
and, after talking to her for some time, she took her
leave, promising to pay her another visit next day.
True to her promise, Edith sallied forth after breakfast
with a little native basket on her arm. About half-an-
hour afterwards, while Stanley was sitting in the hall
with his wife and Frank, they were startled by the
sudden appearance of Edith, out of breath from the
speed with which she had run home, and her face over-
spread with a deadly paleness.

“ What is the matter, my darling?” cried her mother,
starting up in alarm.

“Oh! the Esquimaux are lying dead on the sand,”
gasped Edith, as she laid her head on her mother’s
breast, “and the rest are all gone.” .
UNGAVA. 235

Without waiting to hear more, Frank and Stanley
took down their guns and hastened to the camp. Here
a scene of the most horrible kind presented itself.
The whole camp exhibited evidences of a hasty flight,
and eight of the people who had died during the night
were lying exposed on the rocks, with their white faces
and ghastly eyeballs turned towards the sky. The other
two had been buried on the rocks under a heap of stones,
which did not conceal them entirely from view.

“No wonder poor Edith was alarmed,” said Stanley
sadly, as he leaned on his fowling-piece and surveyed
the scene of desolation and death.

“T have been told,” remarked Frank, “that the Es-
quimaux have a superstitious dread of this river. Ooli-
buck mentioned to me this morning that he has had a
good deal of conversation with the natives about this
disease, and they told him that it invariably attacks
them when they enter this river, and carries them off
by dozens; so that they never come into it except when
they require wood, and always stay as short a time as
possible.”

“ Ah! that’s bad,” said Stanley; “I fear that it will
go much against the success of the establishment. But
we must hope better things; and, truly, with this ex-
ception, all has gone well hitherto. Said they anything
more, Frank ?”

“Yes; they hinted, it seems, their intention of flying
away from this fatal spot, and taking up their abode
for the winter at the mouth of False River, where they
ean obtain a livelihood by seal-fishing; but Oolibuck
thought they did not mean to put the threat in execution,
and did not imagine that they were in such alarm that
they would go off without burying their dead.”

“We must do that for them, Frank,” said Stanley,
236 - UNGAVA. —

turning to retrace his steps to the fort ; “send down as
many of the men as you can spare to-day, and get it
done at once.”

“By the way,’ said Frank, as they walked along the
beach, “it seems that many years ago the Moravian
missionaries came to the mouth of this river, and talked
of setting up a trading-fort here; but, from some cause
unknown, they gave up their design and went away.
Maximus has been telling me all he knows about the
matter; but his reports are vague, and the event must
have occurred, if it occurred at all, when he was a child.”

“Very possibly, Frank. You know the Moravians
have settlements along the coasts of Labrador, to the
eastward of this. They may have made an attempt
long ago to push as far as this. I have always had a
high opinion of the energy and perseverance of these
missionaries, but I cannot get over the incongruity of
their strange way of mingling trade with religion. It
seems to me an unnatural sort of thing for missionaries
to be fur-traders. I do not mean by this to object to
their system, however; I daresay it works well, but I’ve
had no means of judging.”

“Tt is strange,” replied Frank; “yet it seems a good
plan. The missionaries trade there in order that they
may live and preach. “T'would be a good thing for the
Indian country if the same principles and practice
actuated the traders; with this difference, that instead
of missionaries becoming fur-traders, the fur-traders
would become missionaries. It does seem a species of
infatuation,” continued Frank, energetically, as he warmed
with the subject, “ that men, calling themselves Christians,
should live for years and years among the poor Indians
of America and never once name to them the great and
saving name of Christ. Of course I do not wonder at
UNGAVA. 237

those who make little or no profession of Christianity ,
but there are men in the fur-trade who seem to be
deeply impressed with the truths of God’s Word—who
are alive to the fact that there is no name under heaven
given among men whereby we can be saved except the
name of Christ—who know and feel that the Indians
around them are living without God, and therefore
without hope in the world—who feel that Christ is all
in all, and that the Christian religion, however perfect
and beautiful as a code of morals, is utterly worthless as
to salvation unless there be in the heart the special love
of Jesus Christ ;—men who admit and profess to believe
all this, yet never speak of Christ to the natives—never
mention the name that can alone save them from eternal
destruction.”

“Be not hasty, Frank,” replied Stanley. “I agree
with you, that it is strange indeed we do not see and
hear more of this missionary spirit among the traders,
and I, for one, take your words as a deserved rebuke to
myself; but if there are, as you say, many among us
who are deeply impressed with the truths of God's Word,
how know you that we never mention our Saviour’s
name to the Indians? Although fur-traders do not
mount the pulpit, they may, in private, make mention
of that name, and do an amount of good that will only
be fully known when the trader, the trapper, and the
Indian shall stand side by side before the judgment-
seat of Christ. Observe, I do not say that this is
actually the case; I only suggest that it is possible—
may I not add, probable ?”

“Tt may be so,” returned Frank, “it may be so, and
God forgive me if I have judged the men of the fur-
trade unjustly ; but I certainly know one who has made
somewhat of a profession of Christianity in his day, and
238 UNGAVA.

yet has done next to nothing, and that one is Frank
Morton.”

“Tl not gainsay that, Frank,” said Stanley, with a
quiet smile ; “and I think we are not likely to err much
when we apply censure to ourselves. It is curious that
you and I should have been thinking of the very same
subject. A few days ago, while my wife and I were
conversing together about the Esquimaux, we agreed to
devote a good deal of our leisure time next winter to
reading and explaining the Bible to our Esquimau in-
terpreters, in the hope that they may afterwards be the
means of much good among their poor countrymen.”

Whether or not the good resolutions made at this
time were ever put in practice we cannot say. Let us
hope that they were.

Not long after the sudden flight of the Esquimaux,
the Indians struck their tents and took their departure
for the interior, with the intention, as they said, of hunt-
ing for furs, but more probably, as Ma-istequan suggested,
to hunt the deer. During all the time of their residence
at the fort, Maximus had kept out of their way as
much as possible. He seldom met them without a frown
of hatred, for he regarded them as the representatives of
a race which had robbed him of his bride; and there
were times when the giant’s spirit chafed so fearfully at
the sight of the red men, that nothing but the remem-
brance of his promise to Stanley, to offer them no injury,
prevented him from stirring up his tribe to overwhelm
and destroy them. It was, therefore, with a feeling of
relief that Maximus beheld them march single file over
the rocky platform, and disappear in the ravine that led
into the mountains.

The traders of Ungava were once more left in solitude,
and from this time forward, until the winter set in, they
UNGAVA. 239

devoted all their energies to laying up a stock of pro-
visions sufficient to last till spring.

Dick Prince and Massan were sent after the deer in
company. Augustus and Bryan were despatched to a
small lake to establish a fishery; in which they were
very successful, and soon caught a large supply of ex-
cellent white-fish, trout, and carp, which they gutted
and hung up by their tails to dry and freeze. Frank
and Moses went to another small lake, about ten miles
down the river, and built a hut of willows, in which
they dwelt while engaged at the fishery. As there was
still much to be done in the way of completing the fort,
and making furniture, Stanley retained La Roche, Ooli-
buck, and the two Indians to assist him in this, as well
as in the performance of the miscellaneous minor duties
about the station, such as cutting up firewood, covering
the roofs of the stores with tarpaulin, shooting such
birds and animals as came near the fort, constructing
rude chairs and tables, cooking, etc., ete.; while Frangois
and Gaspard were sent up the river to fell trees, for the
purposes both of building and firewood. Edith and her
mother found ample occupation—the latter in the use
of her needle and the cares of the household; the former
in learning her lessons, visiting her berry-ravine, dressing
her doll (for she had a doll, as a matter of course), and
in holding long and frequent converse with Chimo.

Thus they spent their time; too busily occupied to
take much note of its rapid flight, and scarce noticing
the lengthening nights and shortening days, until needles
of ice began with slow and silent progress to shoot across
and solidify the waters of the bay.
CHAPTER XXIV.

Effect of snow on the feelings, not to mention the landscape—A wonderyul
dome of ice.

HERE are times and seasons, in this peculiar
world of ours, when the heart of man rejoices.
The rejoicing to which we refer is not of the ordinary
kind. It is peculiar; and, whether its duration be
long or short, its effect powerful or slight, it is quite
distinct and emphatic. We do not intend to enter into
a detail of the occasions that call forth this feeling of
exultation. Far be it from us to venture into such
perilous depths of philosophy. Our sole reason for
making these preliminary observations is, that we may,
with proper emphasis, introduce the statement, that one
of these occasions of rejoicing is, when man arises from
his couch, on a brilliant, sunny, sparkling morning, gazes
forth from his window, and beholds the landscape—
which yesterday was green, and red, and brown, and
blue—clad in a soft mantle of whitest snow !

What! you don’t agree with us? You shudder at
the preposterous idea of such a sight being fitted to
rejoice the heart of man in any degree whatever ?
Well, well; do not sneer at our weakness. If we
cannot sympathize with each other on this subject,
perchance there are other things in which we can.
But, whatever be owr opinion in regard to this, the
UNGAVA. 2AL

point that we have to deal with at present is, the
opinion of Edith Stanley, who, on rising hastily one
morning, and looking forth from her little window,
evinced the rejoicing of her heart most emphatically,
by her loud exclamation of delight and the sparkling
of her bright blue eyes.

Independently of the cheerful lightness and the
virgin purity of the mantle, which, in itself, tended to
awaken emotions of gladness in Edith’s heart, there
was something in its sudden appearance that carried
her back violently and vividly to bygone days. The
winter garb had no associations, yet, with Ungava;
but it had with Moose Fort, and the dear companions
she used to play with there. It recalled the time
when she and her little friends sallied forth, each with
her small wooden sledge drawn after her by a line, to
slide thereon down the banks of the frozen river with
headlong speed, and upset at the bottom amid shouts of
laughter. It recalled the time when she made the first
attempt to walk in snow-shoes, upon which occasion she
tripped and fell into the snow, as a matter of course,
and was advised to wait till she was older. It recalled
the memory of her father’s team of dogs, and the
delightful drives she used to have over the frozen river;
which drives often resulted in an upset, perhaps several,
and always resulted in fun. It recalled the house in
the old fort that used to be her home; the row of
houses belonging to the men, to which she often went,
and was always welcomed as a great favourite; the
water-hole on the river from which the old Canadian
drew his daily supply; and the snow-house in the yard
which she built in company with Frank Morton, and
which stood the whole winter through, but gave way
at last before the blazing sun of spring, and fell—as

16
242 UNGAVA.

ill Tuck would have it—-when she and Chimo were
sitting there, so that she and the dog together had a
hard struggle ere they got free. All these, and many
more thick-coming memories of other days, were aroused
by the vision of snow that met Hdith’s gaze that
morning, and caused her heart with peculiar fervour to
rejoice.

Winter had now descended with iron grasp upon
Ungava. For some weeks the frost had been so intense
that every lake and pool was frozen many inches thick,
and the salt bay itself was fringed with a thick and
ever-accumulating mass of ice. The snow which now
fell was but the ceremonial coronation of a king whose
reign had commenced in reality long before.

But the sunshine did not last long. The rolling
fogs and vapours of the open and ice-laden sea beyond
ascended over the wild mountains, obscured the bright
sky, and revealed the winter of the north in all its stern,
cold reality. Every cliff and crag and jagged peak had
its crown of snow, and every corrie, glen, and gorge
its drifted shroud. In places where the precipices were
perpendicular, the gray rocks of the mountains formed
dark blotches in the picture; but, dark although they
were, they did not equal in blackness the river, on
which floated hundreds of masses of ice and several
ponderous icebergs, which had been carried up from the
sea by the flood-tide. Over this inky expanse the
frost-smoke hung like a leaden pall—an evil spirit, as
it were, which never left the spot till protracted and
intense frost closed the waters of the river altogether,
and banished it farther out to sea. But this entire
closing of the river very seldom happened, and never
lasted long.

Fort Chimo itself, at least as much of it as remained
UNGAVA. 243

unburied, was a mere speck on the edge of the white
plain at the mountain’s foot, scarce distinguishable, at
a short distance, from the straggling black pines and
willow bushes that seemed thrust out into the waste
from the ravines above and below the fort. But on
a nearer approach, the fort assumed an air of greater
importance; the influences, too, of the cold, cheerless
scene we have described, were broken and dissipated by
the sights of comfort and sounds of cheerfulness within.
The shout of the water-drawer, as he roused the dogs
and went forth with his empty cask, hauled on a little
sledge, to draw from the bubbling spring behind the
fort; the sounds of the hammer, the chisel, and the axe,
in the carpenter's shop; the merry clank of Bryan’s
hammer, and the bright flame that gleamed from the
window of the forge,—all bore evidence of the fact,
that however powerful the influence of winter might
be without, it had little power within the wooden walls
of Fort Chimo, and could not check the life, or heart,
or industry of man.

The only other human being visible in the open air,
besides the water-drawer, was La Roche, who, with a
fur cap covering his head and ears, and leathern mittens
on his hands, hewed and hacked the billets with which
he purposed to replenish the fire for cooking the mid-
day meal.

Pausing in his labour, and dusting off the hoar-frost
that covered his eye-brows and whiskers, he looked at
the edge of his hatchet for a few seconds with an
expression of contempt. Then, throwing the implement
on his shoulder, he crossed the yard and entered the
blacksmith’s shop.

“Bryan,” said he, seating himself on the edge of the
forge and filling his pipe, while Vulcan’s votary scattered
244 UNGAVA.

a shower of gems from a white-hot bar of iron at every
blow of his hammer—* Bryan, you no fit for not’ing.
Dat axe is blont encore. Oui, cest vrai. Now dat is
trés mal. How you not can temper him edge better ?”

«Timper it better, is it?” answered Bryan, putting
the iron bar in the fire, and regarding his companion
earnestly while he blew the bellows. “Faix, ’tis mysilf
I'd need to timper better, in order to put up wi’ the
likes o’ you, ye wretched crature. How can ye expict
it to kape its idge when ye lave it for iver lyin’ among
yer pots and kittles ?”

“Dat is not it,” replied La Roche, applying a glowing
coal to his pipe. “Tis de mauvais steel. But I not
com for to fight wid you. Your tongue trop long pour
dat. I com for ax you to give me turn ov de grindstone,
s'il vous plait.”

“Ye don’t desarve it, Losh; but wait till I’ve finished
this job and I'll lind ye a hand.”

“Be-the-by,” resumed Bryan, when the metal was
cooled, “has Francois finished that sled for Miss
Edith ?”

“Qui,” replied La Roche, seating himself at the
grindstone. (“Ah! pas si vite, a leet more slow,
Bryan.) Oui, him make it all ready; only want de
ring-bolts.”

“Thin it won’ want thim long. Ye can take thim
over to the shop when ye go across. There they are on
the binch.”

Bryan continued to turn the handle of the stone for
some time in silence.

“D’ye know, Losh,” he resumed, “whin Mister Frank
is goin’ to the fishery ?”

“He go demain, I b’lieve, and Mademoiselle Edith go
too.”
UNGAVA. 245

“None o’ the min goin’ ?” inquired the blacksmith.

“Non. Monsieur Frank just go for to try if dere be
any fish to be cotch by de hook; and I tink he go more
for to give Edith one drive dan dat.”

“Very likely, Losh. The poor purty little crature.
She’s very fond o’ sledgin’ and walkin’ in snow-shoes.
"Tis well for her, bekase there’s a want o’ companions
for her here intirely.”

“Ah! mercy, dat is superb, magnifique!” said the
Frenchman, feeling the edge of the axe with his thumb.
“Tt sharp ‘nuff to shave de hair off your ogly face,
Bryan.”

“Thin be off wid ye, an’ don’t kape me longer from
my work. An’ shut the door quick behind ye; there’s
cowld enough in the place already.”

So saying, Bryan resumed his hammer, and La Roche,
following the snow-track across the yard, recommenced
his labour of chopping firewood.

Next day, Frank and Edith made preparations for
the excursion alluded to in the foregoing conversation.

The object for which this excursion was undertaken
was twofold—first, to ascertain if there were any fish
in a large lake about ten miles distant from the fort;
and, secondly, to give little Edith a drive for the good
of her health. Not that her health was bad, but
several weeks of bad weather had confined her much
to the house, and her mother thought the change would
be beneficial and agreeable; and tenderly did that
mother’s heart yearn over her little child, for she felt
that, although she was all to Edith that a mother could
be, nature had implanted in her daughter’s mind a
longing desire for the companionship of little ones of
her own age, which could not be satisfied by any
substitute—not even that of a tender mother, who
246 UNGAVA.

sought, by all the means in her power, to become a
child again for Edith’s sake.

Immediately after breakfast that day Frank took
Edith by the hand, and led her round by the back of
the fort, towards the kennel where the dogs were kept,
intending to release Chimo, who was to have the honour
of hauling the sledge of his young mistress. In passing
the spring, Edith paused, as she had often done before
during the winter, to gaze with wonder on the trans-
formation that had taken place in the appearance of
the once green and fertile spot. Not only was it
covered with deep snow, but over the spring there was
formed a singular dome of ice. This dome was a sub-
ject of continual astonishment to every one at Ungava.
It had commenced to rise soon after the first hard frosts
had sealed up the little fountain from the open air.
As time passed by, the covering became thick ice, and
was bulged gradually up above the surrounding waste,
until it reached an elevation of not much less than
twelve or thirteen feet. Inside of this the spring
bubbled up as of yore.

“What think you, Edith?” said Frank, as a sudden
thought occurred to him; “shall I cut a doorway into
that crystal house, and see if the spirit of the spring
dwells there ?”

Edith clapped her hands with delight at the idea, and
urged her companion to begin at once. Then, checking’
him as he was about to commence the work with his
hatchet, she said earnestly,—

“Do spirits really dwell in the springs, Frank ?”

“Why, Eda, we must send to England for a lot of
fairy tales to teach you what I mean. I do but jest
when I speak of spirits living there. But many books
have been written about pretended spirits and fairies
UNGAVA. 2A7

which tell us of their wonderful adventures, and what
they said and did long ago. I shall tell you some of
these stories one of these days. But I daresay there
are no spirits in this spring.”

“Paix, an’ it would be a rale misfortune if there
was, sir,’ remarked Bryan, who came up at this
moment, and touched his cap; “for it would be only
sperits and wather, which wouldn't kape in this cowld
climate. I’ve finished the ring-bolts for the sled, sir,
an’ came to see when ye would have them fixed.”

“Put them in your pocket, Bryan, for a few minutes,
and lend a hand here to cut a hole through this dome.”

As Frank spoke he drew a small axe from his belt
and began to lay about him so vigorously that the icy
splinters flew in all directions like a shower of broken
crystal. Bryan seconded his efforts, and in less than
half-an-hour a block of solid ice, about four feet high
and two broad, was cut out and detached from the side
of the dome.

“That'll do, Bryan,’ said Frank, when their work
was nearly completed; “I'll finish it myself now. Go
to the carpenter’s house, and Francois will show you
what to do with the sled.”

As Bryan walked away, Frank dealt the mass of ice
a blow that split it into several pieces, which he quickly
removed, revealing to the astonished and eager gaze
of his young companion a cavern of a most beautiful
light blue colour. ‘Taking Edith by the hand, he led
her into this icy cave. Its walls were quite luminous
and delicately blue, except in places where the green
moss and earth around the spring had been torn from
the ground and lifted up along with the dome. Icicles
hung in various places from the roof, and the floor was
hard and dry, except in the centre, where the spring
248 UNGAVA.

bubbled up through it, and cut a channel across towards
one side of the icy wall, where it disappeared under
the snow.

“Oh! what a beautiful palace!” cried Edith, with
delight, after she had gazed around her for a few
minutes in silent wonder and admiration, “I shall
come and live here, Frank. Oh! do come, and let us
get chairs and a small table, and make-.it our sitting-
room. We can come every day when the sun shines
and read, or you can tell me the tales about spirits
and fairies you spoke of !”

“A good idea, Eda; but I fear we would need a
stove to keep us warm. It strikes me it will make
a capital ice-house in spring to keep our fresh meat in.
It will last long after the snow is melted.”

“Then we shall make a palace of it in winter and
a meat-store in spring,” cried Edith, laughing, as she
walked round this newly-discovered house, examining
its blue walls and peeping into the cold black spring
Meanwhile Frank examined it with a view to the utili-
tarian purpose, and, after both of them had gone round
it several times, they continued on their way towards
the dog-kennel.

The sledge which Frangois had constructed for Edith
was made after the model of those used by the
Esquimaux. There were two stout runners, or skates,
made of wood, for sliding over the snow. These were
slightly turned up, or rather rownded up, in front, and
attached to each other by means of cross bars and thin
planks of wood; all of which were fastened, not by
nails (for iron-work snaps like glass in such a cold
climate as that of Ungava), but by thongs of undressed
sealskin, which, although they held the fabric very
loosely together in appearance, were, nevertheless,
UNGAVA. 249

remarkably strong, and served their purpose very well
Two short upright bars behind served as a back to lean
against. But the most curious part of the machine was
the substance with which the runners were shod, in
order to preserve them. This was a preparation of mud
and water, which was plastered smoothly on in a soft
condition, and then allowed to freeze. This it did in
a few minutes after being exposed to the open air, and
thus became a smooth, hard sheathing, which was much
more durable and less liable to break than iron, or
indeed any other sheathing that could be devised.
This substance is of course easily repaired, and is always
used by the Esquimaux in winter.

Esquimau sledges being heavy, and meant for
carrying a number of people, require large teams of
dogs. But Edith’s sledge—or sled, as the men called
it_—was little. Moreover, Edith herself was little and
light, therefore Chimo was deemed sufficiently powerful
to draw it. So thoroughly correct were they in this
supposition, that when Edith was seated in her sledge
for a trial trip, and Chimo harnessed, he ran away with
her, and gave Frank a chase of half-a-mile over the
river ere he condescended to stop in his wild career.

But the intended excursion was suddenly interrupted
and postponed, by an event which we shall relate in
the next chapter.
CHAPTER XXV.

Buried alive—But not killed—The giant in the snow-storm.

HE event which prevented the excursion referred

to in the last chapter was neither more nor less

than a snow-storm. “Was that all?” say you, reader ?

Nay, that was not all. Independently of the fact that

it was a snow-storm the like of which you have never

seen, unless you have travelled in northern climes, it

was a snow-storm that produced results. Of these, more
hereafter.

The storm began with a sigh—a mysterious sigh,
that swept over the mountains of Ungava with a soft,
mournful wail, and died slowly away in the distant glen
of the Caniapuscaw, as if the spirit of the north wind
grieved to think of the withering desolation it was
about to launch upon the land.

The gathering clouds that preceded and accompanied
this sigh induced Frank Morton to countermand his
orders for the intended journey. In order to console
' Edith for the disappointment, he went with her into the
hall, and, drawing a low stool towards the blazing stove,
placed a draught-board upon it. Then he placed another
and a lower stool beside the first, on which he seated
Edith. Spreading a deerskin robe upon the ground, he
stretched himself thereon at full length, and began to
arrange the men.
UNGAVA. O51

The hall, which was formerly such a comfortless
apartment, was now invested with that degree of com-
fort which always gathers, more or less, round a place
that is continually occupied. The ceiling was composed
of a carpet of deerskin stretched tightly upon the
beams. The walls were hung all round with the thick
heavy coats and robes of leather and fur belonging to
the inmates, and without which they never ventured
abroad. The iron stove in the centre of the apartment,
with its pipe to conduct away the smoke, and its radiant
fire of logs, emitted a cheerful glow in its immediate
vicinity ; which glow, however, was not intense enough
to melt the thick ice, or rather hoar-frost, an inch deep,
with which the two windows were encrusted, to the
almost total exclusion of the view and the serious
diminution of the light. The door was padded all round
its edges with fur, which tended to check the bitter
wind that often blew against it, and tempered the slight
draught that did force its way through. Altogether the
hall at Fort Chimo was curious and comfortable—
rather shaggy in its general appearance, but sound and
trustworthy at bottom.

A small rough table, the work of Frank Morton,
stood close to the stove ; and beside it was seated Mrs.
Stanley, with a soft yellow deerskin before her, which
she was carefully transforming into a hunting coat for
her husband. On another and a larger table was spread
the tea equipage. Those who would understand this
aright must for tea read swpper. Among fur-traders
the two ave combined. Candles—dips made at the fort
—had been brought some time ago by La Roche, who
entered the hall by a back door which communicated
with a passage leading to the kitchen behind.

« What can have become of papa, I wonder?” Mrs.
252 UNGAVA.

Stanley designated her husband by this epithet, in con-
sequence of her desire to keep up the fiction of her
being Edith’s little sister or playfellow. _

Frank looked up from the board. “I know not,”
said he. “I left him giving some orders to the men.
We have been getting things made snug about the fort,
for we expect a pretty stiff breeze to-night.—Take care,
Eda; your crown’s in danger.”

“Qh! so it is,” cried Edith, snatching back her piece,
and looking with intense earnestness at the board.

Frank might have observed, had he not been too
deeply engaged with his game, that the expected stiff
breeze had already come, and was whistling round the
fort with considerable vigour.

“Yowll beat me, Eda, if you play so boldly,” said
Frank with a smile. “There, give me another crown.”

“ And me too,” said Edith, pushing up her piece. As
she spoke, the door burst open, and Stanley sprang into
the room.

“Whew! what a night!” he cried, shutting the door
with a forcible bang, in order to keep out the snow-drift
that sought to enter along with him.

Two moves would have made Frank the conqueror,
but the gust of wind upset the board, and scattered the
men upon the floor.

Stanley looked like a man of white marble, but the
removal of his cap, coat, and leggings produced a speedy
and entire metamorphosis.

“Ho! La Roche !”

« Oui, monsieur.”

“ Here, take my coat and shake the snow off it, and
let’s have supper as speedily as may be.—The draughts
without, Frank, are a little too powerful for the draughts
within, I fear—What! wife, making another coat ?
UNGAVA. 253

One would think you had vowed to show your affection
for me by the number of coats you made. How many
have you perpetrated since we were married ?”

“Never mind; go and put on one now, and come to
supper while it is hot.”

“Tm glad it is hot,’ cried Stanley from his bedroom.
“One needs unusual heat within to make up for the cold
without. The thermometer is thirty below.”

While the party in the hall were enjoying their
evening meal, the men were similarly employed beside
the stove in their own habitation. There was not much
difference in the two apartments, save that the confusion
in that of the men was much greater, in consequence of
the miscellaneous mass of capotes, caps, belts, discarded
moccasins, axes, guns, and seal-spears, with which they
saw fit to garnish the walls. The fumes of tobacco
were also more dense, and the conversation more up-
roarious.

«Tis a howlin’ night,” observed Massan, as a gust of
more than usual violence shook the door on its hinges.

“ Me t'ink de snow-drift am as tick in de sky as on de
ground,” said Oolibuck, drawing a live coal from the fire
and lighting his pipe therewith.

“ Hould on, boys!” cried Bryan, seizing his chair with
both hands, half in jest and half in earnest, as another
blast shook the building to its foundation.

The two Indians sat like statues of bronze, smoking
their calumets in silence, while Gaspard and Prince rose
and went to the window. But the frozen moisture on
the panes effectually prevented their seeing out.

It was indeed an awful night—such a night as had
not, until now, visited the precincts of Fort Chimo.
Viewed from the rocky platform on the hill, the raging
of the storm was absolutely sublime. The wind came
254 UNGAVA.

sometimes in short, angry gusts, sometimes in prolonged
roars, through the narrows, sweeping up clouds of snow
so dense that it seemed as though the entire mass had
been uplifted from the earth, hurling it upwards and
downwards and in circling eddies, past the ravines, and
round the fort, and launching it with a fierce yell into
the valley of the Caniapuscaw. The sky was not alto-
gether covered with clouds, and the broken masses, as
they rolled along, permitted a stray moonbeam to dart
down upon the turmoil beneath, and render darkness
visible. Sometimes the wind lulled for a second or two,
as if to breathe; then it burst forth again, splitting
through the mountain gorges with a shriek of intensity ;
the columns of snow sprang in thousands from every
hollow, cliff, and glen, mingled in wild confusion,
swayed, now hither, now thither, in mad uncertainty,
and then, caught by the steady gale, pelted on, like the
charging troops of ice-land, and swept across the frozen
plain.

Could human beings face so wild a storm as this?
Ay, they could—at least they could dare to try !

There was one traveller out upon the hills on that
tremendous night. The giant was in the midst of it;
but weak as the bulrush were the mighty limbs of
Maximus before the rushing gale. Several days previous
to this the Esquimau had been sent down to his brethren
at False River, to procure some seal-meat for the dogs,
and to ascertain the condition of the natives, and their
success in fishing. On arriving, he found that they had
been so far successful, that starvation (their too frequent
guest) had not yet visited their dwellings of snow. But
Maximus found the old woman who had formerly saved
his life very ill, and apparently about to die. Having
learned from experience the efficacy of Stanley’s medi-
UNGAVA. 255

cines, he resolved to procure some for the old woman,
whom he had tenderly watched over and hunted for
ever since the eventful day of the attack. His dogs
were exhausted and could not return. But the bold
Esquimau was in the prime of life, and animated by the
fire of vigorous youth. The storm was beginning to
mutter in the distance. What then? Had he not
faced the blasts of the frozen regions many a time
before? Without saying a word, he threw a junk of
seal-flesh into his wallet, and, striding back upon his
track at the mountain’s base, he disappeared in the
driving snow.

Before reaching the fort, however, the full fury of
the storm had burst upon him. It cast him headlong
into the snow ; but he rose and staggered on. Again it
burst forth, and again he fell before it like a stately
pine. Rising to his knees, Maximus drew the hood of
his hairy garment close round his head and face, and
tried to peer through the driving snow; but he could
not see until a slight lull came; then he observed a
hummock of ice at a short distance, and, rising, made
towards it. The lulls were short-lived, however. The
storm threw him down again; instantly he was drifted
over with snow; another blast came, lifted the drift
into the air, and left the Esquimau exposed to all its
fury. But Maximus was not conquered. He rose
again, panting, it is true, but sturdy as ever, and ready
to take advantage of the next lull. It came soon; and
he saw a rock, or, it might be, the base of a cliff, close
at hand. With a quick run he reached it; and, going
down on his knees, began with his gloved hands to
scrape a hollow in the snow. Having made a hole big
enough to contain his body, he lay down in it, and, pull-
ing the superincumbent snow down upon him, was
256 UNGAVA.

almost buried in the ruin. ° Searcely had he drawn the
hood of his coat well over his face, when another burst
of the storm dashed a column of curling drift upon the
rock, and the place where he lay was covered up; not a
wrinkle in the drift remained to mark the spot where
he was buried !

All that night the storm roared among the mountains
with bitter fury ; but next day the wind was subdued,
and the sun shone brightly on the gray rocks and on the
white wreaths of snow. It shone in all the lustre of an
unclouded winter sky. Not only did the sun smile upon
the scene, but two mock suns or parhelia, almost as
bright as himself, shone on either side of him. Yet no
ray of light illuminated the dwellings of the fur-traders.
All was darkness there, until Stanley rose from his
couch and lighted a candle, for the purpose of examin-
ing his watch.

“Hallo! Frank, Frank!” he cried, entering the hall,
while he hastily threw on his garments; “turn out,
man; there's something wrong here. “Tis past noon,
and dark as midnight. Bring your watch; perhaps I’m
wrong.”

Frank yawned vociferously, and sprang from his bed.
In two seconds more he made his appearance in his
trousers and shirt.

“Past twelve, no doubt of,—yea—o—ow! That
accounts for my waking three times, and going off again ;
but—”

“Hey! what have we here?” cried Stanley, as he
opened the front door, and disclosed to view a solid wall
of snow.

“Snowed up; dear me! eh! that’s odd,” said Frank, ~
beginning to comprehend the state of matters.

Snowed up they were, undoubtedly ; so thoroughly
UNGAVA. 257

snowed up that there was not a ray of daylight within
their dwelling. Had Frank been above the snow,
instead of below it, he would have seen that the whole
fort was so completely buried that nothing was visible
above the surface except the chimneys and the flag-staff.
After the first few moments of surprise had passed, it
occurred to Stanley that they might ascend to the
regions above by the chimney, which was wide enough,
he thought, to admit a man; but, on looking up, he
found that it also was full of drifted snow. This, how-
ever, could have been easily removed ; but there was a
bar of iron stretching across, and built into the clay
walls, which rendered escape by that passage impossible.

“There’s nothing for it, Frank, but to dig ourselves
out, so the sooner we begin the better.”

By this time they were joined by Edith and her
mother, who, although much surprised, were not at all
alarmed ; for rough travelling in a wild land had taught
them to regard nothing as being dangerous until it was
proved to be so. Besides, Stanley had assured them
that they had nothing to fear, as the only evil he antici-
pated would be the trouble they were sure to have in
getting rid of the superabundant snow. While they
were talking, the back door was opened violently, and
La Roche, in a state of dishabille, burst into the room.

“Oh, messieurs, cest fini! Oui, le world him shut
up tout togedder. Oh, misere! Fat shall ve to do?”

“Hold your tongue, La Roche,” said Frank, “and
bring the kitchen shovel.”

The cook instantly turned to obey, and as he rushed
towards the kitchen his voice was heard exclaiming in
the passage,— ‘

“ Ah, cest terrible! Mais, I ver’ moshe fear de shovel
be out in de neige. Ah, non; here itis. C’est bien.”

17
258 UNGAVA.

Returning in haste to the hall, he handed a much
dilapidated iron shovel to Frank, who threw off his
coat and set to work with vigour. The tables and
chairs, and all the furniture, were removed into the
inner apartments, in order to afford room for the snow
which Frank dug from the open door-way and shovelled
into the centre of the room. As only one at a time
could work in the narrow door-way, the three men
wrought. with the shovel by turns; and while one was
digging the tunnel, the other two piled the debris in a
compact mound beside the stove. As no fire had yet
been kindled, the snow, of course, did not melt, but
remained crisp and dry upon the floor. Meanwhile
Edith looked on with deep interest, and occasionally
assisted in piling the snow; while her mother, seeing
that her presence was unnecessary, retired to her own
room.

“ There,” cried Frank, pausing and surveying an im-
mense cavern which he had dug into the drift, “ that’s
a good spell. Take a turn now, La Roche, and dig up-
wards ; we should see daylight soon.”

“ Ah, vraiment, it be time, for it am von o'clock,”
replied La Roche, as he plied the shovel.

The tunnel was cut in such a way as that, while it
ran outwards, it also sloped upwards; and, from the
angle at which it lay, Stanley calculated that thirty feet
or thereabouts would bring them to the surface. In
this he was correct, for when La Roche had worked for
half-an-hour, the snow above became slightly luminous.
But the labour of conveying it from the end of the
tunnel into the hall became, of course, greater as the
work advanced. At length the light penetrated so
clearly that La Roche was induced to thrust his shovel
upwards, in the expectation of penetrating the mass.
UNGAVA. 259

The effect of this action was striking and unexpected.
Instantly the roof fell in, and a flood of sunshine poured
into the tunnel, revealing the luckless Frenchman
struggling amid the ruins.

“Oh, pull me hout!” he spluttered, as Frank and
Stanley stood laughing heartily at his misfortune. One
of his legs happened to protrude from the mass as he
made this earnest request, so Frank seized it, and
dragged the poor man by main force from his un-
comfortable position. Immediately afterwards they all
three scrambled through the aperture and stood in open
day.

The sight that met their eyes was a curious though
not a satisfactory one. All that remained visible of
Fort Chimo were, as we have said, the chimneys and
the flag-staff’ In regard to the general aspect of the
neighbourhood, however, there was little alteration ;
for the change of position in the drifts among the moun-
tain gorges, and the addition to their bulk, made no
striking alteration in the rugged landscape. In some
places the gale had cleared the sides of the mountains
and left their cliffs exposed to view ; in other spots the
gorges and ravines were choked up, and the pine tops
nearly covered; and the open water in the lake was
more encumbered than usual with icebergs.

“ Now, La Roche,” said Stanley, after they had sur-
veyed the desolate scene for a few minutes in silence,
“go fetch the shovel and we'll dig out the men. I
daresay, poor fellows, they're beginning to wonder at the
length of the night by this time.”

La Roche prepared to descend into the tunnel, when
their attention was arrested by a strange sound beneath
the snow. In a few minutes the crust began to crack,
at a spot not more than two yards from where they
260 UNGAVA.

stood; then there was a sudden rupture, accompanied
by a growl, and followed by the appearance of the
dishevelled head and arms of a man.

“Musha, boys, but I’m out!” Bryan coughed the
snow from around his mouth, and winked it from his
eyes, as he spoke. The first sight that met his be-
wildered gaze was three pair of expanded eyeballs and
three double rows of grinning teeth, a few feet from his
face. Uttering a cry of terror, he fell back into the
hole, the snow closed over him, and he was gone!

It need scarcely be added that Frank and Stanley
commenced to dig into this hole with as much vigour as
their frequent explosions of laughter would allow. Ina
few minutes it was re-opened, and the men issued one
by one from durance vile.

“ Och, sirs, ye gave me a mortial start!” exclaimed
Bryan, as he rose to view the second time. “I thought
for sartin ye were all polar bears. Faix we've had a
job o’t down there. T’ll be bound to say there’s twinty
ton o’ snow—bad luck to it—in the middle o’ the floor.”

“There’s work for us here that'll last two weeks, I
guess,” said Massan, as he and several of the others
stooped down and gazed into the tunnel leading to the
hall, at the end of which EHdith’s laughing face met
their view.

“When did you awake, and begin to suspect that
something was wrong?” inquired Stanley of Dick
Prince.

“ Awake!” cried Bryan, answering the question ; “we
awoke at laste a dozen times. I suppose it must have
bin the time for brikfust ; for, ye see, although we could
ha’ slept on long enough, our intariors couldn’t, be no
manes, forgit their needcessities.”

“We shall have to work a bit yet ere these necessities
UNGAVA. 261

are attended to, I fear,’ said Stanley. “Go, Francois, -
and one or two of you, and open up the dog-kennel.
The rest of you get all the shovels you can lay hands
on, and clear out the houses as fast as you can.”

“Clear out de chimbleys fust, mes gargons,” cried La
Roche, looking up from the tunnel. “Den ve vill git
dejeuner ready toute suite.”

“That will we, lad,” said Bryan, shouldering a spade
and proceeding towards the chimney of the hall; while
the rest of the party, breaking up into several groups,
set to work, with spades, shovels, and such implements
as were suitable, to cut passages through the square of
the fort towards the doors of the several buildings. As
Massan had said, it proved to be no light work. The
north-west gale had launched the snow upon the exposed
buildings of Fort Chimo until the drift was fifteen or
sixteen feet deep, so that the mere cutting of passages
was a matter of considerable time and severe labour.

Meanwhile, Maximus awoke, and sought to raise him-
self from his lair at the foot of the rock. But his first
effort failed. The drift above him was too heavy.
Abandoning, therefore, the idea of freeing himself by
main force, he turned round on his side, and began to
scrape away the snow that was directly above his head.
The masses that accumulated in the course of this pro-
cess he forced down past his chest ; and, as his motions
tended to compress and crush the drift around him in
all directions, he soon made room enough to work with
ease. In ten minutes he approached so near to the
surface as to be able, with a powerful effort, to burst it
upwards, and step out of his strange dormitory into the
sunshine.

This method of spending the night has been resorted
to more than once by arctic travellers who had lost
262 UNGAVA.

their way ; and it is sad to think that many who have
perished might have saved their lives had they known
that burrowing could be practised with safety. The
Esquimaux frequently spend the night in this manner,
but they prefer building a snow-house to burrowing, if
circumstances will permit.

Cutting a slice of seal-meat, and eating as he went,
Maximus resumed his journey, and soon afterwards
arrived at the fort, where he found the men busied in
excavating their buried dwellings.

Here he stated the case of the old woman, and re-
ceived such medicines as Stanley, in his amateur medical
wisdom, saw fit to bestow. With these he started
immediately to retrace his steps, having been directed to
proceed, after administering them, to the lake where
Frank meant to try the fishing under the ice. A family
of Esquimaux had been established on another lake not
so far distant from the fort; and having been taught
by the fur-traders how to set nets under the ice, they
succeeded in procuring more than enough for their sub-
sistence. It was hoped, therefore, that the larger lake
would afford a good supply ; and, the weather having
become decidedly fine, Frank prepared to set out on the
following day.
CHAPTER XXVI.

An excursion—Igloe building, and fishing under the ice—A snow-table and a
good feast—Edith spends the night under a snow-roof for the first but not
the last time.

‘ OW then, Edith,” cried Frank, looking in at the
door of the hall, “your carriage waits, and
Chimo is very restive.”

“Coming, coming,” exclaimed a treble voice within ;
“Tm getting new lines put to my snow-shoes, and will
be ready in two minutes.”

Two minutes, translated into female language, means
ten, sometimes twenty. Frank knew this, and proceeded
to readjust the sash that secured his leathern capote, as
he walked towards the little sledge in front of the fort.
He then tied down the ear-pieces of his fur cap more
carefully, for it was very cold, though clear and sunny.
The frost had set fast the lake opposite the fort, and, by
thus removing the frost-cloud that overhung the open
water farther out to sea, relieved the fort from the mists
in which it was usually enveloped. By this time fifteen
out of the “two” minutes having elapsed, he re-examined
the lock of his gun, and adjusted the warm deerskin
robe on Edith’s little sledge, patted Chimo on the head,
looked up at the clouds, and began to whistle.

“ Now, Frank, here I am,” cried Edith, running towards
him with her snow-shoes in her hand, followed by her
father and mother.
264 UNGAVA.

“Quiet, Chimo—down, sir!” said Frank, restraining
the dog as it sought to bound towards its mistress.
Being harnessed to the sledge, this was a very improper
proceeding, and was rebuked accordingly ; so Chimo was
fain to crouch on the snow and look back at Edith as
Frank placed her in the sledge, and arranged the deer-
skin robes round her.

Edith wore a long fur cloak and cloth legginos. Her
feet were protected from the cold by two pair of blanket
socks, besides very thick moccasins of deerskin. The
usual head-dress of civilized females in these regions is a
round fur cap; but Edith had a peculiar affection for the
Cree Indian head-dress, and, upon the present occasion,
wore one which was lined with fur and accommodated
with ear-pieces, to defy the winter cold. The child’s
general appearance was somewhat rotund. Painters
would probably have said there was a little too much
breadth, perhaps, in the picture. Her pointed cap, how-
ever, with the little bow of ribbon on the top, gave her
@ piquant air, and did away with the heavy appearance
of her costume to some extent; in fact, Edith looked
like a fat little witch. But if she looked fat before
being wrapped up in the sledge furs, she looked infinitely
fatter when thus placed, and nothing of her visible ex-
cept her two twinkling eyes. So grotesque was she that
the whole party burst into a loud laugh as they surveyed
her. The laugh made Chimo start off at full gallop,
which caused Frank to grasp the line of the sledge that
trailed behind, and hurry over the snow at a most un-
dignified pace.

“Take care of her,” cried Mr. Stanley.

“Ay, ay,” shouted Frank.—< Softly, Chimo—softly,
you rascal !”

In ten minutes the travellers were round the point
UNGAVA. 265

and fairly out of sight ; but the shouts of Frank, and an
occasional howl from Chimo, floated back on the breeze
as Stanley and his wife returned leisurely to the hall.
The road, or rather the ground, over which Frank
Morton drove Edith that day was exceedingly rough and
rugged—so rough that we will not try the endurance of
the reader by dragging him over it. We will merely
indicate its general features. First of all, they drove
about three miles along the level snow at the foot of the
mountains. So far the road was good; and Chimo went
along merrily to the music of the little thimble-like brass
bells with which his harness was garnished. Then they
came to a ravine, and Kdith had to get out, put on her
snow-shoes, and clamber up, holding by Frank’s hand;
while Chimo followed, dragging the sledge as he best
could. Having gained one of the terraces, Edith slipped
her feet out of the snow-shoe lines, jumped into the
sledge, and was swept along to the next ravine, where
she got out again, resumed her snow-shoes, and ascended
as before. Thus they went up the ravines and along
the terraces until the summit of the first mountain range
was reached. Having rested here a few minutes, Edith
once more got into the sledge, and Chimo set off. But
as there was now a long piece of level ground over which
for some miles they could travel in the direction of the
coast, Frank took the sled-line in his hand, and held the
dog at a quick walking pace. Afterwards they turned
a little further inland, and came into a more broken
country, where they had sometimes to mount and some-
times to descend the hills. There were many gorges and
narrow fissures in the ground here, some of which were
covered over and so concealed with snow that the
travellers ran some risk of falling into them. Indeed,
at one place, so narrow was their escape that Chimo fell
266 UNGAVA.

through the crust of snow, and disappeared into a fissure
which descended a hundred feet sheer down; and the
sledge would certainly have followed had not Frank held
it back by the line; and Chimo was not hauled up again
without great difficulty. After this, Frank went in front
with a pole, and sounded the snow in dangerous-looking
places as he went along.

Towards the afternoon they arrived at the lake where
they intended to encamp, and, to their great delight,
found Maximus there already. He had only arrived a
few minutes before them, and was just going to commence
the erection of a snow-house.

“Glad to see you, Maximus,” cried Frank, as he drove
up. “How’s the old woman, eh?”

“She small better,” replied Maximus, assisting Edith
to alight. “Dis goot for fish.”

Maximus was a remarkably intelligent man, and,
although his residence at the fort had been of short
duration as yet, he had picked up a few words of
English.

“A good lake, I have no doubt,” replied Frank, look-
ing round. “But we need not search for camping ground.
There seems to be very little wood, so you may as well
build our hut on the ice. We shall need all our time, as
the sun has not long to run.”

The lake, on the edge of which they stood, was about
a mile in circumference, and lay in a sort of natural
basin. formed by savage-looking hills, in which the
ravines were little more than narrow fissures, entirely
devoid of trees. Snow encompassed and buried every-
thing, so that nothing was to be seen except, here and
there, crags and cliffs of gray rock, which were too pre-
cipitous for the snow to rest on.

“Now, Eda, I will take a look among these rocks for
UNGAVA. 267

a ptarmigan for supper; so you can amuse yourself
watching Maximus build our house till I return.”

“Very well, Frank,” said Edith; “but don’t be long.”
Come back before dark; Chimo and I will weary for
you.”

In a few minutes Frank disappeared among the rocks
upon the shore ; and Maximus, taking Edith by the hand,
and dragging her sledge after him, led her a couple of
hundred yards out on to the ice, or, more properly speak-
ing, the hard beaten snow with which the ice was covered.
Chimo had been turned loose, and, being rather tired
after his journey, had coiled himself up on a mound of
snow and fallen fast asleep.

“Dis place for house,” said Maximus, pausing near a
smooth, level part of the lake. “You stop look to me,”
he added, turning to the little girl, who gazed up in his
large face with an expression half of wonder and half of
fun. “When you cold, run; when you hot, sit in sled
and look to me.”

In compliance with this request, Edith sat down in
her sledge, and from this comfortable point of view
watched the Esquimau while he built a snow-hut before
her.

First of all, he drew out a long iron knife, which had
been constructed specially for him by Bryan, who looked
upon the giant with special favour. With the point of
this he drew a circle of about seven feet in diameter; and
so well accustomed was he to this operation, that his
circle, we believe, could not have been mended even by
a pair of compasses. Two feet to one side of this circle
he drew a smaller one, of about four feet in diameter.
Next, he cut out of the snow a number of hard blocks,
which were so tough that they could not be broken
without a severe blow, but were as easily cut as you
268 UNGAVA.

might have sliced a soft cheese with a sharp knife.
These blocks he arranged round the large circle, and
built them above each other, fashioning them, as he pro-
ceeded, in such a manner that they gradually rose into
the form of a dome. The chinks between them he filled
compactly with soft snow, and the last block, introduced
into the top of the structure, was formed exactly on the
principle of the key-stone of an arch. When the large
dome was finished, he commenced the smaller, and in the
course of two hours both the houses—or, as the Esqui-
maux call them, zgloes—were completed.

Long before this, however, Frank had returned, from
an unsuccessful hunt, to assist him; and Edith had
wondered and wearied, grown cold and taken to running
with Chimo, and grown warm and returned to her sledge,
several times. Two holes were left in the igloes to serve
as doors; and, after they were finished, the Esquimau
cut a square hole in the top of each, not far from the
key-stones, and above the entrances. Into these he fitted
slabs of clear ice, which formed windows as beautiful
and useful as if they had been made of glass. There
were two door-ways in the large igloe, one of which
faced the door-way of the smaller. Between these he
built an arched passage, so that the two were thus con-
nected, and the small hut formed a sort of inner chamber
to the larger.

“Now, dem done,” said Maximus, surveying his work
with a satisfied smile.

“And very well done they are,” said Frank. “See
here, Eda, our snow-fort is finished. This big one is to
be the grand hall and banqueting-room, and yonder little
hut is your private boudoir.”

“Mine!” exclaimed Edith, running away from Chimo,
with whom she had been playing, and approaching the
UNGAVA. 269

new houses that had been so speedily put up. “Oh,
how nice! what fun! only think !—a snow-bedroom!
But won’t it be cold, Frank? And is the bed to be of
snow too?”

The black moustache of the giant curled with a smile
at the energy with which this was said.

“We will make the bedsteads of snow, Eda,” replied
Frank, “but I think we shall manage to find blankets of
a warmer material—Now, Maximus, get the things put
inside, and the lamp lighted, for we're all tired and very
hungry.”

The lamp to which Frank referred was one which
Maximus had brought, along with a few other articles,
from the Esquimau camp. It was made of soft stone,
somewhat in the form of a half moon, about eight inches
long and three broad, and hollowed out in the inside.
Esquimaux burn seal-fat in it, and in winter have no
other means of warming their houses or cooking their
food. But for both purposes it is quite sufficient. The
heat created by these lamps, combined with the natural
warmth of the inhabitants, is frequently so great in the
igloes of the Esquimaux, that they are fain to throw off
a great portion of their upper garments, and sit in a state
of partial nudity ; yet the snow-walls do not melt, owing
to the counteracting influence of the intense cold without.

Maximus had brought some seal-fat, or blubber, along
with him. A portion of this he now put into the lamp,
and, placing the latter on a snow-shelf prepared expressly
for it, he set it on fire. The flame, although not very
steady, was bright enough to illuminate the large igloe,
and to throw a strong gleam into the smaller one. Over
this lamp Frank placed a small tin kettle, filled with
snow, which was speedily converted into water; and
while this was being boiled, he assisted Edith in spread-
270 UNGAVA.

ing out the bedding. As we have already said, the floor
of this snow-house was of the same material as the walls,
But one-half of it was raised about a foot above the
other half, according to Esquimau rules of architecture.
This elevated half was intended for the bed, which con-
sisted of a large deerskin robe, spread entirely over it,
with the soft hair upwards. Another large robe was
placed above this for a blanket, and a smaller one either
for a pillow or an additional covering if required; but
both of these were tossed down in a heap at the present
time, to form a luxuriant seat for Frank and Edith. As
their legs hung over the edge of the elevated couch, they
were thus seated, as it were, on an ottoman. A mat of
interlaced willows covered the floor, and on this sat
Maximus, towering in his hairy garments like a huge
bear, while his black shadow was cast on the pure white
wall behind him. In the midst stood a small table,
extemporized by Frank out of a block of snow, and
covered with the ample skirt of his leathern top-coat,
which the increasing temperature of the air inside the
igloe rendered too warm.

Beside Edith, on the most comfortable portion of the
ottoman, sat Chimo, with an air of majestic solemnity,
looking, as privileged dogs always do look under like
circumstances, as if the chief seat belonged to him as a
matter not of favour but of right. On the table was
spread a solid lump of excellent pemmican—excellent,
because made by the fair hands of Mrs. Stanley. It
stood vis-d-vis to a tin plate whereon lay three large
steaming cuts of boiled fresh salmon—fresh, because,
although caught some months before, it had been frozen
solid ever since. There was a large tin kettle of hot tea
in the centre of the board—if under the circumstances
we may use the term—and three tin cups out of which
UNGAVA. 271

to drink it; besides a plate containing broken pieces of
ship-biscuit and a small quantity of sugar wrapped up
in a morsel of paper. Also a little salt in a tin box.

All these things, and tempting delicacies, had up till
now been contained within the compass of a small, com-
pact, insignificant-looking parcel, which during the jour-
ney had occupied a retiring position in the hinder part
of Edith’s sledge—so true is it that the really great and
the useful court concealment until duty calls them forth
and reveals their worth and their importance to an
admiring world. The admiring world on the present
occasion, however, consisted only of Frank, Edith, Maxi-
mus, and Chimo; unless, indeed, we may include the
moon, who at that moment poured her bright beams
through the ice-window of the hut and flooded the centre
of the snow-table with light.

“Aren't we snug, Eda?” cried Frank, as he filled her
tin with tea. “What a charming house! and so cheap,
too! There’s sugar beside you. Take care you don’t
use salt by mistake—Maximus, hold out your pannikin.
That's the true beverage to warm your heart, if you take
it hot enough.”

“Tankee, sur,” said the giant, extending his cup with
one hand, while with the other he forced into his capa-
cious mouth as much pemmican as it could hold.

“Frank,” said Edith, “we must build an igloe at the
fort when we return.”

“So we will, now that I know how to doit. Hand
me the salt, please, and poke Chimo’s nose away from the
salmon. Yes, and we'll invite papa and mamma to come
and take supper at owr house——Maximus, is this the
. exact way your friends build their winter houses ?”

“ Yis, sur,” answered the Esquimau, looking up from
the cut of salmon which he lifted with his fingers in
272 UNGAVA.

preference to a fork or knife. “Dey always buil’ um so.
But not dis ting,” he added, touching the snow-table.

“No, I suppose not,” said Frank. “I flatter myself
that that is a recent improvement.”

“We do great many igloe sometime,” continued Maxi-
mus, “vid two, t’ree, four,—plenty pass’ges goin’ into
von. a-doder.”

“What does he mean by that?” inquired Edith,
laughing.

“T suppose he means that they connect a number of
their igloes together by means of passages.—And do they
keep them as clean and snug as this, Maximus ?”

The Esquimau replied by a loud chuckle, and a full
display of his magnificent teeth, which Frank under-
stood to signify a decided negative.

When supper was ended, Chimo was permitted to
devour the scraps, while Frank assisted Edith to arrange
her little dormitory. It was much the same in its
arrangements as the larger apartment, and was really as
comfortable and warm as one could desire. Returning
to the large apartment, Frank spread out the couch on
which he and Maximus were to repose, and then, sitting
down beside the stone lamp, he drew forth his Bible, as
was his wont, and began to read.

Soon after lying down Edith heard the deep voices of
her companions engaged in earnest conversation; but
these sounds gradually died away, and she fell asleep, to
dream of her berry-ravine at Fort Chimo. As the night
wore on, the deep breathing of the men told that they, too,
had sought and found repose. The lamp burned slowly
down and went out, and, when the moon threw her
parting rays over the scene, there was nothing to tell
of the presence of human beings in that cold, wild spot,
save two little white mounds on the frozen lake below.
CHAPTER XXVII.

Frank Morton gets into difficulties.

HIMO’S loud bark and the angry snarl of a large

wolf, as it darted away to seek the shelter of the

hills, were the sounds that awoke our travellers in the
gray dawn of the following morning.

Frank started up, seized his gun, and darted through
the door-way of the igloe; in doing which he dashed
the door of snow to atoms. He had only the satisfac-
tion, however, of seeing the wolf's tail flourish in the air,
as the animal bounded over a snow-drift and disappeared
in a ravine.

“Ha! how cold it is!” he exclaimed, re-entering the
igloe hastily ; for having issued forth without his coat
or cap, the two minutes during which he stood exposed
to the open air cooled him down nearly to the freezing
point. “Hallo, Maximus! jump up; light the lamp
while I fill the kettle. Heyday! it solidifies the very
marrow in one’s bones. Ho, Edith! up with you, lazy
thing ; here has been a wolf to bid you good-morrow.”

While Frank rattled on thus he belted his leathern
coat round him, put on his fur cap, and prepared break-
fast ; while Edith rose and resumed the cap and cloak
which she had put off on lying down to rest.

“ Maximus,” said Frank, after the first duties of the
day were concluded, “we must now go and set the

18
274 UNGAVA.,

hooks ; but as cutting holes in the ice will occupy you
some time, I'll take a short walk along the margin of the
lake with my gun. Be careful of Edith till I return.”

So saying, Frank went off, taking Chimo along with
him; while Maximus seized the axe and ice-chisel, and
began the laborious process of digging through to the
water. ‘The ice on the lake was five feet thick, but. by
dint of great perseverance the Esquimau succeeded in
making several holes through it ere Frank returned.
Each hole was large enough to contain the body of a
man, but a little wider above than below. In these
holes were set stout cod-lines, with hooks of about halt-
an-inch or more in diameter. They were made of white
metal, and clumsy enough to look at; but fish in the
lakes of Ungava are not particular. These hooks were
baited with lumps of seal-fat, and ere half-an-hour
elapsed the success of the anglers was very decided and
satisfactory.

Frank hauled up a white-fish of about six pounds
weight at the first dip, and scarcely had he thrown it
on the ice when Maximus gave a galvanic start, hauled
up his line a few yards with laughable eagerness, then
stopped suddenly, under the impression, apparently, that
it was a false alarm ; but another tug set him again in
motion, and in three seconds he pulled a fine lake-trout
of about ten pounds weight out of the hole. Edith,
also, who had a line under her care, began to show
symptoms of expectation.

“ Capital!” cried Frank, beating his hands violently
against his shoulders; for handling wet lines with the
thermometer at twenty below zero is decidedly cold
work — “capital! we must set up a regular fishery
here, I think; the fish are swarming. There’s another,
—eh ? no—he’s off—”
UNGAVA. 275

“Oh! oh!! oh!!!” shrieked Edith in mingled fear
and excitement, as, at each successive “oh!” she received
a jerk that well-nigh pulled her into the ice-hole.

“Hold hard!” cried Frank; “now then, haul away.”
Edith pulled, and so did the fish; but as it was not
more than five pounds weight or so, she overcame it
after a severe struggle, and landed a white-fish on the
ice.

The next shout that Edith gave was of so very
decided and thrilling a character that Frank and Maxi-
mus darted to her side in alarm, and the latter caught
the line as it was torn violently from her grasp. For a
few minutes the Esquimau had to allow the line to
run out, being unable to hold the fish—at least without
the risk of breaking his tackle; but in a few seconds
the motion of the line became less rapid, and Maximus
held on, while his huge body was jerked violently, not-
withstanding his weight and strength. Soon the line
relaxed a little, and Maximus ran away from the hole
as fast as he could, drawing the line after him. When
the fish reached the hole it offered decided resistance to
such treatment; and being influenced, apparently, by
the well-known proverb, “Time about’s fair play,” it
darted away in its turn, causing the Esquimau to give
it line again very rapidly.

“ He must be an enormously big fellow,’ said Frank,
as he and Edith stood close to the hole watching the
struggle with intense interest.

The Esquimau gave a broad grin.

“ Yis, he most very biggest, hie!”

The cause of this exclamation of surprise was the
slacking of the line so suddenly that Maximus was in-
duced to believe the fish had escaped.

“Him go be-off Ho yis!”
276 UNGAVA.

But he was wrong. Another violent tug convinced
him that the fish was still captive—though an unwilling
one—and the struggle was renewed. In about a quar-
ter of an hour Maximus dragged this refractory fish
slowly into the hole, and its snout appeared above water.

“Oh! what a fish!” exclaimed Edith.

“ Put in de spear,” cried the Esquimau.

Frank caught up a native spear which Maximus had
provided, and just as the fish was about to recommence
the struggle for its life, he transfixed it through the
gills, and pinned it to the side of the ice-hole. The
battle was over ; a few seconds sufficed to drag the fish
from its native element and lay it at full length on the ice.

And few anglers have ever had the pleasure of be-
holding such a prize. It was a trout of fully sixty
pounds weight, and although such fish are seldom if
ever found in other parts of the world, they are by no
means uncommon in the lakes of North America.

Having secured this noble fish, Maximus cut it open
and cleaned it, after which it was left to freeze. The
other fish were then similarly treated, and while the
Esquimau was thus engaged, Frank and Edith continued
their sport. But daylight in these far northern regions
is very short-lived in winter, and they were soon com-
pelled unwillingly to leave off.

“ Now, Maximus,” said Frank, as they rolled up their
lines, “I don’t intend to keep you longer with us.
Edith and I can manage the fishing very well, so you
may return to your friends at False River, and take the
seal-flesh for the dogs up to the fort. Get the loan of
some of their dogs and a sled to haul it; and come
round this way in passing, so as to pick up any fish we
may have ready for you. The moon will be up in a
little, so be off as fast as you can.”
UNGAVA. 277

In obedience to these orders, Maximus packed up a
small quantity of provisions, and bidding good-bye to
his two friends, set off to make the best of his way to
the coast.

That night Frank and his little charge sat down to
sup together in the igloe at the head of their snow-
table, and Chimo acted the part of croupier in the room
of the Esquimau. And a pleasant evening they spent,
chatting, and laughing, and telling stories, by the light
of the stone lamp, the mellow flame of which shed a
warm influence over the sparkling dome of snow. Before
retiring to rest, Frank said that they must be up with
the first light, for he meant to have a hard day’s fish-
ing; but man little knows what a day may bring forth.
Neither Frank nor Edith dreamed that night of the
events that were to happen on the morrow.

On awaking in the morning they were again roused
by the voice of the wolf which had visited them the day
before. In order to catch this wolf, Maximus had, just
before starting, constructed a trap peculiar to the Esqui-
maux. It was simply a hole dug down through the ice
at the edge of the lake, not far from the igloe. This
hole was just wide enough to admit the body of a wolf,
and the depth sufficient to render it absolutely impos-
sible for the animal to thrust his snout to the bottom,
however long his neck might be. At the bottom a
tempting piece of blubber, in very high condition, was
placed. The result of this ingenious arrangement was
most successful, and, we may add, inevitable. Attracted
by the smell of the meat, our friend the wolf came trot-
ting down to the lake just about daybreak, and sneaked
suspiciously up to the trap. He peeped in and licked
his lips with satisfaction at the charming breakfast be-
low. One would have thought, as he showed his for-
278 UNGAVA.

midable white teeth, that he was laughing with delight.
Then, spreading out his fore legs so as to place his
breast on the ice, he thrust his head down into the hole
and snapped at the coveted blubber. But he had mis-
taken the depth, and blaming himself, no doubt, for his
stupidity, he slid a little further forward, and pushed his
head deeper down. What! not at it yet? Oh! this is
preposterous! Under this impression he rose, shook
himself, and advancing his shoulders as far as prudence
would allow, again thrust down his head and stretched
his neck until the very sinews cracked. Then it was,
but not till then, that the conviction was forced on him
that that precious morsel was totally and absolutely be-
yond his reach altogether. Drawing himself back he
sat. down on his haunches and uttered a snarling bark
of dissatisfaction. But the odour that ascended from
that hole was too much for the powers of wolfish nature
to resist. Showing his teeth with an expression of
mingled disappointment and ferocity, he plunged his
head into the hole once more. Deeper and deeper still
it went, but the blubber was yet three inches from his
eager nose. Another shove—no! dislocation alone could
accomplish the object. His shoulders slid very imper-
ceptibly into the hole. His nose was within an inch of
the prize, and he could actually touch it with his tongue.
Away with cowardly prudence! what recked he of the
consequences? Up went his hind legs, down went his
head, and the tempting bait was gained at last!

Alas for wolfish misfortunes! His fore legs were
jammed immovably against his ribs. A touch of his
hind foot on the ice would remedy this mishap, but he
was too far in for that. Vigorously he struggled, but
in vain. The blood rushed to his head, and the keen
frost quickly put an end to his pains. In a few minutes
UNGAVA. 279

he was dead, and in half-an-hour he was frozen, solid as
a block of wood, with his hind legs and tail pointing to
the sky.

It was at the consummation of this event that another
wolf, likewise attracted by the blubber, trotted down the
wild ravine and uttered a howl of delighted surprise as
it rushed forward to devour its dead companion—for
such is the custom among wolves. And this was the
howl that called Frank forth in time to baulk its
purpose.

Frank happened to be completely dressed at the time,
and as he saw the wolf bound away up the mountain
gorge, he seized his gun and snow-shoes, and hastily
slung on his powder-horn and shot-belt.

“ Edith,” he cried, as he was about to start, “I must
give chase to that wolf. I won’t be gone long. Light
the lamp and prepare breakfast, dear—at least as much
of it as you can; I'll be back to complete it—LHallo,
Chimo! here, Chimo!” he shouted, whistling to the dog,
which bounded forth from the door of the hut and
followed his master up the ravine.

Edith was so well accustomed to solitary wanderings
among the rugged glens in the neighbourhood of Fort
Chimo, that she felt no alarm on finding herself left
alone in this wild spot. She knew that Frank was not
far off, and expected him back in a few minutes. She
knew, also, that wild animals are not usually so daring
as to show themselves in open ground after the break of
day, particularly after the shouts of human beings have
seared them to their dens; so, instead of giving a
thought to any possible dangers that might threaten.
her, she applied herself cheerfully and busily to the pre-
paration of their morning meal. First she lighted the
lamp, which instantly removed the gloom of the interior
280 UNGAVA.

of the igloe, whose little ice-window as yet admitted
only the faint light of the gray dawn. Then she melted
a little snow and cleaned out the kettle, in which she
placed two cuts of fresh trout; and having advanced thus
far in her work, thought it time to throw on her hood
and peep out to see if Frank was coming. But there
was no sign of Frank, so she re-entered the igloe and
began to set things to rights. She folded up the deer-
skins on which she had reposed, and piled them at the
head of the willow matting that formed her somewhat
rough and unyielding mattress, after which she arranged
the ottoman, and laid out the breakfast things on the
snow-table. Having accomplished all this to her entire
satisfaction, Edith now discovered that the cuts of
salmon were sufficiently well boiled, and began to hope
that Frank would be quick lest the breakfast should be
spoiled. Under the influence of this feeling she threw
on her hood a second time, and going out upon the lake,
surveyed the shore with a scrutinizing gaze. The sun
was now so far above the natural horizon that the day-
light was pretty clear, but the high mountains prevented
any of his direct rays from penetrating the gloom of
the valley of the lake. Still there was light enough
to enable the solitary child to distinguish the objects
on shore; but Frank’s tall form was not visible any-
where.

Heaving a slight sigh, Edith returned to the hut, so-
liloquizing thus as she went—“ Dear me! it is very
strange that Frank should stay away so long. I fear
that the trout will be quite spoiled. Perhaps it would
be very good cold. No doubt of it. We shall have it
cold, and then I can get the tea ready.”

In pursuance of this plan, the anxious little house-
keeper removed the trout from the kettle, which she
UNGAVA. 281

cleaned out and refilled with snow. When this was
melted and boiled, she put in the tea. In due time this
also was ready, and she sallied forth once more, with a
feeling approaching to anxiety, to look for Frank. Still
her companion did not make his appearance, and for the
first time a fecling of dread touched her heart. She
strove to avert it, however, by considering that Frank
might have been obliged to follow the wolf further than
he expected or intended. Then a thrill of fear passed
through her breast as the thought occurred, “What if
the wolf has attacked and killed him?” As time wore
on, and:no sound of voice or gun or bark of dog broke
the dreary stiliness of that gloomy place, a feeling of
intense horror took possession of the child’s mind, and
she pictured to herself all kinds of possible evils that
might have befallen her companion; while at the same
time she could not but feel how awful was her unpro-
tected and helpless condition. One thought, however,
comforted her, and this was that Maximus would cer-
tainly come to the hut on his return to the fort. This
relieved her mind in regard to herself; but the very re-
lief on that point enabled her all the more to realize the
dangers to which Frank might be exposed without any
one to render him assistance.

The morning passed away, the sun rose above the
hills, and the short-lived day drew towards its close ;
still Frank did not return, and the poor child who
watched so anxiously for him, after many short and
timid wanderings towards the margin of the lake, re-
turned to the igloe with a heart fluttering from mingled
anxiety and terror. Throwing herself on the deerslin
couch, she burst into a flood of tears. As she lay there,
sobbing bitterly, she was startled by a noise outside the
hut, and ere ghe could spring from her recumbent posi-
282 UNGAVA.

tion, Chimo darted through the open door-way, with a
ery between a whine and a bark, and laid his head on
Edith’s lap.

“Oh! what is it, my dog? Dear Chimo, where is
Frank?” cried the child passionately, while she em-
braced her favourite with feelings of mingled delight
and apprehension. “Is he coming, Chimo?” she said,
addressing the dumb animal, as if she believed he under-
stood her. Then, rising hastily, she darted out once
more, to cast a longing, expectant gaze towards the
place where she had seen her companion disappear in
the morning. But she was again doomed to disappoint-
ment. Meanwhile Chimo’s conduct struck her as being
very strange. Instead of receiving with his usual quiet
satisfaction the caresses she heaped upon him, he kept
up a continual whine, and ran about hither and thither
without any apparent object in view. Once or twice he
darted off with a long melancholy howl towards the
hills; then stopping short suddenly, stood still and looked
round towards his young mistress. At first Edith
thought that the dog must have lost his master, and had
come back to the hut expecting to find him there. Then
she called him to her and examined his mouth, expect-
ing and dreading to find blood upon it. But there were
no signs of his having been engaged in fighting with
wolves; so Edith felt sure that Frank must be safe
from them at least, as she knew that Chimo was too
brave to have left his master to perish alone. The
dog submitted with much impatience to this examina-
tion, and at last broke away from Edith and ran
yelping towards the hills again, stopping as before, and
looking back.

The resolute manner with which Chimo did this, and
the frequency of its recurrence, at length induced Edith
UNGAVA. 283

to believe that the animal wished her to follow hin.
Instantly it occurred that he might conduct her to
Frank ; so without bestowing a thought on the danger
of her forsaking the igloe, she ran in for her snow-shoes,
and putting on her hood and thick mittens, followed
the dog to the margin of the lake. Chimo’s impatience
seemed to subside immediately, and he trotted rapidly
towards the ravine into which Frank had entered in
pursuit of the wolf that morning. The dog paused ever
and anon as they proceeded, in order to give the child
time to come up with him; and so eager was Edith in
her adventure, and so hopeful was she that it would ter-
minate in her finding Frank, that she pressed forward
at a rate which would have been utterly impossible
under less exciting circumstances.

At the foot of the ravine she found the remains of
the wolf which had been caught in the snow-trap that
morning. Frank had merely pulled it out and cast it
on the snow in passing, and the torn fragments and
scattered bones of the animal showed that its comrades
had breakfasted off its carcass after Frank had passed.
Here Edith paused to put on her snow-shoes, for the
snow in the ravine was soft, being less exposed to the
hardening action of the wind; and the dog sat down to
wait patiently until she was ready.

“ Now, Chimo, go forward, my good dog. I will fol-
low you without fear,” she said, when the lines were
properly fastened to her feet.

Chimo waited no second command, but threaded his
way rapidly up the ravine among the stunted willow
bushes. In doing so he had frequent occasion to wait
for his young mistress, whose strength was rapidly fail-
ing under the unwonted exertion she forced herself to
make. At times she had to pause for breath, and as
284, UNGAVA.

she cast her eyes upwards and around at the dreary
desolation of the rugged precipices, which everywhere
met her view, she could with difficulty refrain from
shedding tears. But Edith’s heart was warm and brave.
The thought of Frank being in some mysterious, un-
known danger, infused new energy into her soul and
strengthened her slight frame. Having now recovered
somewhat from the nervous haste which urged her to
travel at a rate much beyond her capacity, she advanced
into the ravines of the mountains with more of that
steady, regular tramp which practice in the use of her
snow-shoes had taught her to assume; so that, being of
a robust constitution naturally, she became stronger and
more able for her undertaking as she advanced.

For nearly two hours Chimo led Edith into the midst
of the mountains. The scenery became, if possible, more
savage as they proceeded, and at length grew so rugged
and full of precipices and dark gorges, or rather splits
in the hills, that Edith had much difficulty in avoiding
the danger of falling over many of the latter which
were partially concealed by, and in some places entirely
covered over with, a crust of snow. Fortunately, as
daylight waned, a brilliant galaxy of stars shone forth,
enabling her to pick her steps.

Hitherto they had followed Frank’s snow-shoe track
undeviatingly, but near the top of a cliff Chimo suddenly
diverged to the left, and led his mistress by a steep and
tortuous natural path to the bottom. Here he ran
quickly forward, uttering a low whine or whimper, and
disappeared round the corner of the precipice. Hasten-
ing after the dog with a beating heart, Edith speedily
gained the projection of the cliff, on turning which she
was startled and terrified by hearing a loud snarling
bark mingled with a fierce growl. In another moment
UNGAVA. 285

she beheld Chimo bounding towards a gaunt savage-
looking wolf, which stood close beside the body of a
man etoulel at full length upon the snow.

At first the wolf did not seem inclined to retreat, but
the shriek which Edith uttered on suddenly beholding
the scene before her induced him to turn tail and fly.
In another moment the terrified child sank exhausted on
the snow beside the insensible form of Frank Morton,
CHAPTER XXVIII.
Edith becomes a heroine indeed.

HE shock which Edith received on beholding the
blood-stained countenance of her companion
completely paralyzed her at first, but only for a few
minutes. The feeling of certainty that Frank would
perish if assistance were not rendered tended to restore
her scattered faculties, and nerve her heart for the
duties now required of her; and she rose with a feeling
of determination to save her companion or die beside
him. Poor child! she little knew the extent of her own
feebleness at that moment; but she breathed an inward
prayer to Him who can, and often does, achieve the
mightiest results by the feeblest means.

Raising Frank’s head from the snow, she placed it in
her lap, and with her handkerchief removed the blood
from his forehead. In doing this she observed, to her
inexpressible relief, that he breathed freely, and seemed
rather to be in a state of stupor than insensibility. The
place where he lay was a dark rent or split in the
mountain, the precipices of which rose on either side to
a height of between thirty and forty feet. The top of
this chasm was entirely covered over with a crust of
snow, through which there was a large gap immediately
above the spot where Frank lay, revealing at once the
cause of his present sad condition. He had evidently
UNGAVA. 287

been crossing the ravine by means of the deceptive
platform of snow, unaware of the danger of his position,
and had been suddenly precipitated to the bottom. In
descending, his head had struck the side of the cliff,
which cut it severely ; but the softness of the snow into
which he fell saved him from further injury, except the
stunning effect of the fall. How long he had lain in
this state Edith had no means of knowing, but it must
have been a considerable time, as Chimo could not have
left him until after his fall. Fortunately the wolf had
not touched him, and the wound in his head did not
appear to be very deep. Observing that parts of his
face were slightly frost-bitten, Edith commenced to rub
them vigorously, at the same time calling upon him in
the most earnest tones to speak to her. The effect of
this roused him a little. In a few minutes he opened
his eyes, and gazed languidly into the child’s face.

“Where am I, Eda?” he said faintly, while a gentle
smile played about his lips.

“You are in the mountains, Frank. Dear Frank! do
open your eyes again. I’m so glad to hear your voice!
Are you better now ?”

The sound of his voice attracted Chimo, who had
long ago abandoned the pursuit of the wolf, and was
seated beside his master. Rising, he placed his cold
nose on Frank’s cheek. The action seemed to rouse
him to the recollection of recent events. Starting up
on his knees, with an angry shout, Frank seized the
gun that lay beside him and raised it as if to strike the
dog; but he instantly let the weapon fall, and exclaim-
ing, “Ah, Chimo, is ib you, good dog?” he fell back
again into the arms of his companion.

Edith wept bitterly for a few minutes, while she
tried in vain to awaken her companion from his state
288 UNGAVA.

of lethargy. At length she dried her tears hastily, and,
rising, placed Frank’s head on her warm cloak, which
she wrapped round his face and shoulders. Then she
felt his hands, which, though covered with thick leather
mittens, were very cold. Making Chimo couch at his
feet, so as to imbue them with some of his own warmth,
she proceeded to rub his hands, and to squeeze and, as
it were, shampoo his body all over, as vigorously as her
strength enabled her. In a few minutes the effect of
this was apparent. Frank raised himself on his elbow
and gazed wildly round him.

“Surely I must have fallen. Where am I, Edith?”
Gradually his faculties returned. “Edith, Edith!” he
exclaimed, in a low, anxious voice, “I must get back to
the igloe. I shall freeze here. Fasten the lines of my
snow-shoes, dear, and I will rise.”

Edith did as she was desired, and immediately Frank
made a violent effort and stood upright; but he swayed
to and fro like a drunken man.

“Let me lean on your shoulder, dear Eda,” he said in
a faint voice. “My head is terribly confused. Lead
me; I cannot see well.”

The child placed his hand on her shoulder, and they
went forward a few paces together—Edith bending be-
neath the heavy weight of her companion.

“Do I lean heavily ?” said Frank, drawing his hand
across his forehead. “ Poor child!”

As he spoke he removed his hand from her shoulder ;
but the instant he did so, he staggered and fell with a
deep groan.

“O Frank! dear Frank! why did you do that?” said
Edith, anxiously. “You do not hurt me. I don’t mind
it. Do try to rise again.”

Frank tried, and succeeded in walking in a sort of
UNGAYVA., ° 289

half-sleeping, half-waking condition for about a mile—
stumbling as he went, and often unwittingly crushing
his little guide to the ground. After this he fell once
more, and could not again recover his upright position.
Poor Edith now began to lose heart. The utter hope-
lessness of getting the wounded man to advance more
than a few yards at a time, and her own gradually in-
creasing weakness, induced the tears once more to start
to her eyes. She observed, too, that Frank was sinking
into that state of lethargy which is so dangerous in cold
climates, and she had much difficulty in preventing him
from falling into that sleep which, if indulged in, is in-
deed the sleep of death. By persevering, however, she
succeeded in rousing him so far as to creep a short
distance, now and then, on his hands and knees—some-
times to stagger a few paces forward; and at length,
long after the cold moon had arisen on the scene, they
reached the margin of the lake.

Here Frank became utterly powerless, and no exer-
tion on the part of his companion could avail to rouse
him. In this dilemma, Edith once more wrapped him
in her warm cloak, and causing Chimo to lie at his feet,
hastened over the ice towards the igloe. On arriving
she lighted the lamp and heated the tea which she had
made in the morning. This took at least a quarter of
an hour to do, and during the interval she endeavoured
to allay her impatience by packing up a few mouthfuls
of pemmican and biscuit. Then she spread the deerskins
out on the couch; and when this was done, the tea was
thoroughly heated. The snow on the river being quite
hard, she needed not to encumber herself with snow-
shoes; but she fastened the traces of her own little
sledge over her shoulders, and, with the kettle in her
hand, ran as fast as her feet could carry her to the

19
290 UNGAVA.

place where she had left Frank and Chimo, and found
them lying exactly as they lay when she left them.

“ Frank ! tele here is some hot tea for you. Do
try to take some.”

But Frank did not move, so she had recourse to
rubbing him again, and had soon the satisfaction of
seeing him open his eyes. The instant he did so, she
repeated her earnest entreaties that he would take some
tea. In a few minutes he revived sufficiently to sit up
and sip a little of the warm beverage. ‘The effect was
almost magical. The blood began to course more rapidly
through his benumbed limbs, and in five minutes more
he was able to sit up and talk to his companion.

“Now, Frank,” said Edith, with an amount of de-
cision that in other circumstances would have seemed
quite laughable, “try to get on to my sled, and Ill help
you. The igloe is near at hand now.”

Frank obeyed almost mechanically, and creeping upon
the sled with difficulty, he fell instantly into a profound
sleep. Edith’s chief anxiety was past now. Harnessing
Chimo to the sled as well as she could, she ran on be-
fore, and a very few minutes brought them to the snow-
hut. Here the work of rousing Frank had again to be
accomplished ; but the vigour which the warm tea had
infused into his frame rendered it less difficult than
heretofore, and soon afterwards Edith had the satisfac-
tion of seeing her companion extended on his deerskin
couch, under the sheltering roof of the igloe. Replenish-
ing the lamp and closing the door-way with a slab of
snow, she sat down to watch by his side. Chimo coiled
himself quietly up at his feet; while Frank, under the
influence of the grateful warmth, fell again into a deep
slumber. As the night wore on, Edith’s eyes became
heavy, and she too, resting her head on the deersking,
UNGAVA. 291

slept till the lamp on the snow-shelf expired and left
the hut and its inmates in total darkness.

Contrary to Edith’s expectations, Frank was very
little better when he awoke next day; but he was able
to talk to her in a faint voice, and to relate how he had
fallen over the cliff, and how afterwards he had to exert
his failing powers in order to defend himself from a
wolf. In all these conversations his mind seemed to
wander a little, and it was evident that he had not
recovered from the effects of the blow received on his
head in the fall. For two days the child tended him
with the affectionate tenderness of a sister, but as he
seemed to grow worse instead of better, she became very
uneasy, and pondered much in her mind what she should
do. At last she formed a strange resolution. Supposing
that Maximus must still be at the Esquimau village at
the mouth of False River, and concluding hastily that
this village could not be very far away, she determined
to set out in search of it, believing that, if she found it,
the Esquimau would convey her back to the igloe on
the lake, and take Frank up to Fort Chimo, where he
could be properly tended and receive medicine.

Freaks and fancies are peculiar to children, but the
carrying of their freaks and fancies into effect is peculiar
only to those who are precocious and daring in character.
Such was Edith, and no sooner had she conceived the
idea of attempting to find the Esquimau camp than she
proceeded to put it in execution. Frank was in so de-
pressed a condition that she thought it better not to
disturb or annoy him by arousing him so as to get him
to comprehend what she was about to do; so she was
obliged to commune with herself, sometimes even in
an audible tone, in default of any better counsellor.
It is due to her to say that, in remembrance of her
292 UNGAVA.

mother’s advice, she sought the guidance of her heavenly
Father.

Long and earnest was the thought bestowed by this
little child on the subject ere she ventured to leave her
companion alone in the snow-hut. Frank was able to
sit up and to assist himself to the articles of food and
drink which his little nurse placed within his reach, so
that she had no fear of his being in want of anything
during the day—or two at most—that she expected to
be absent; for in her childlike simplicity she concluded
that if Maximus could travel thither in a few hours, she
could not take much longer, especially with such a good
servant as Chimo to lead the way. Besides this, she
had observed the way in which the Esquimau had set
out, and Frank had often pointed out to her the direc-
tion in which the camp lay. She knew also that there
was no danger from wild animals, but determined, never-
theless, to build up the door of the igloe very firmly,
lest they should venture to draw near. She also put
Frank’s loaded gun in the spot where he was wont to
place it, so as to be ready to his hand.

Having made all her arrangements, Edith glided
noiselessly from the hut, harnessed her dog, closed the
door of the snow-hut, and jumping into the furs of her
sledge, was soon far away from the mountain lake. At
first the dog followed what she thought must be the
track that Maximus had taken, and her spirits rose when,
after an hour’s drive, she emerged upon a boundless
plain, which she imagined must be the shores of the
frozen sea where the Esquimaux lived. Encouraging
Chimo with her voice, she flew over the level surface of
the hard frozen snow, and looked round eagerly in all
directions for the expected signs of natives. But no
such signs appeared, and she began to fear that the
UNGAVA. 298

distance was greater than she had anticipated. Towards
the afternoon it began to snow heavily. There was no
wind, and the snow fell in large flakes, alighting softly
and without any sound. This prevented her seeing any
great distance, and, what was worse, rendered the ground
heavy for travelling. |

At length she came to a ridge of rocks, and supposing
that she might see to a greater distance from its summit,
she got out of the sledge and clambered up, for the
ground was too rough for the sledge to pass. Here the
view was dreary enough—nothing but plains and hum-
mocks of ice and snow met her view, except in one
direction, where she saw, or fancied that she saw, a
clump of willows and what appeared to be a hut in the
midst of them. Running down the rugged declivity,
she crossed the plain and reached the spot; but although
the willows were there she found no hut. Overcome
with fatigue, fear, and disappointment, she sat down on
a wreath of snow and wept. But she felt that her
situation was much too serious to permit of her wasting
time in vain regrets, so she started up and endeavoured
to retrace her steps. This, however, was now a matter
of difficulty, The snow fell so thickly that her foot-
steps were almost obliterated, and she could not see ten
yards before her. After wandering about for a few
minutes in uncertainty, she called aloud to Chimo,
hoping to hear his bark in reply. But all was silent.

Chimo was not, indeed, unfaithful. He heard the
cry and responded to it in the usual way, by bounding
in the direction whence it came. His progress, however,
was suddenly arrested by the sledge, which caught upon
and was jammed amongst the rocks. Fiercely did
Chimo strain and bound, but the harness was tough and
the sledge immovable. Meanwhile the wind arose, and
294, UNGAVA.

although it blew gently, it was sufficient to prevent
Edith overhearing the whining cries of her dog. For a
time the child lost all self-command, and rushed about
she knew not whither, in the anxious desire to find her
sledge; then she stopped, and restrained the pantings of
her breath, while with both hands pressed tightly over
her heart, as if she would fain stop the rapid throbbing
there, she listened long and intently. But no sound fell
upon her ear except the sighing of the cold breeze as it
swept by, and no sight met her anxious gaze save the
thickly falling snow-flakes.

Sinking on her knees, Edith buried her face in her
hands and gave full vent to the pent-up emotions of her
soul, as the conviction was at length forced upon her
mind that she was a lost wanderer in the midst of that
cold and dreary waste of snow.
CHAPTER XXIX.
A dark cloud of sorrow envelops Fort Chimo.

HREE days after the events narrated in the last

chapter the fort of the fur-traders became a place

of weeping; for on the morning of that day Maximus

arrived with the prostrate form of Frank Morton, whom

he had discovered alone in the igloe on the lake, and

with the dreadful news that little Edith Stanley was
nowhere to be found !

It may be more easily imagined than described the
state of mind into which the parents of the child were
thrown ; but after the first burst of emotion was past,
Stanley felt that a thorough and immediate search was
the only hope that remained to him of finding his little
one alive. Still, when he considered the intensity of
the cold to which she must have been exposed, and the
length of time which had already elapsed since she was
missed, his heart sank, and he could scarcely frame
words of comfort to his prostrated partner. Maximus
had examined the immediate neighbourhood of the lake,
in the hope of finding the tracks of the lost one; but a
heavy fall of snow had totally obliterated these, and he
wisely judged that it would be better to convey the sick
man to the fort as quickly as possible and give the
alarm, so that parties might be sent out to scour the
country in all directions.
296 UNGAVA.

Frank was immediately put to bed on his arrival, and
everything done in order to restore him. In this attempt
they succeeded so far as to obtain all the information he
could give concerning his fall; but he remembered nothing
further than that Edith had been the means of bringing
him to the snow-hut, where he lay in a deep, torpid
slumber, until the voice and hand of Maximus awakened
him. When Frank was told that Edith was lost, he
sprang from his bed as if he had received an electric
shock. The confusion of his faculties seemed swept
away, and he began to put on his garments with as
much vigour as if he were well and strong; but ere he
belted on his leather coat his cheek grew pale, his hand
trembled, and he fell in a swoon upon the bed. This
convinced him of the impossibility of doing anything in
the search, and he was prevailed on, after two or three
similar failures, to leave the work to others.

Meanwhile the mountains and valleys of Ungava were
traversed far and near by the agonized father and his
men. The neighbourhood of the lake was the first place
searched, and they had not sought long ere they dis-
covered the little sledge sticking fast among the rocks
of the sea-coast, and Chimo lying in the traces almost
dead with cold and hunger. The dog had kept himself
alive by gnawing the deerskin of which the traces were
made. Around this spot the search was concentrated,
and the Esquimaux of the neighbouring camp were em-
ployed in traversing the country in all directions; but,
although scarce a foot of ground escaped the eager
scrutiny of one or other of the party, not a vestige of
Edith was to be seen—not so much as a footprint in the
snow.

Days and nights flew by, and still the search was
continued. Frank quickly recovered under the atffec-
UNGAVA. 297

tionate care of the almost heart-broken mother, who
found some relief from her crushing sorrow in minister-
ing to his wants. But the instant he could walk with-
out support, and long before it was prudent to do so,
Frank joined in the search. At first he could do little,
but as day after day passed by his strength returned so
rapidly that the only symptoms that remained to tell of -
his late accident were his pale cheek and the haggard
expression of his countenance. But the mysterious dis-
appearance of Edith had more to do with the latter than
illness.

Weeks passed away, but still the dark cloud of sorrow
hung over Fort Chimo, for the merry young voice that
was wont to awake the surrounding echoes was gone.
The systematic search had now been given up, for every
nook, every glen, and gorge, and corrie within fifteen
miles of the spot where they had found the little sledge,
had been searched again and again without success. But
hope clung with singular tenacity to the parents’ hearts
long after it had fled from those of the men of the fort
and of the Esquimaux. Every alternate day Stanley
and Frank sallied forth with heavy steps and furrowed
brows to explore more carefully those places where the
child was most likely to have strayed, expecting, yet
fearing, to find her dead body. But they always re-
turned to the bereaved mother with silent lips and down-
cast looks.

They frequently conversed together about her, and
always in a hopeful tone, each endeavouring to conceal
from the other the real state of his own mind. Indeed,
except when necessity required it, they seldom spoke on
any other subject.

One day Stanley and Frank were seated by the blaz-
ing stove in the hall conversing as usual about the plan
298 UNGAVA.

of the search for that day. Mrs, Stanley was busied in
preparing breakfast.

“Tis going to blow hard from the north, Frank,” said
Stanley, rising and looking out of the window; “I see
the icebergs coming into the river with the tide. You
will have a cold march, I fear.”

Frank made no reply, but rose and approached the
window. The view from it was a strange one. During
the night a more than usually severe frost had congealed
the water of the lake in the centre, and the icebergs that
sailed towards the Caniapuscaw River in stately grandeur
went crashing through this young ice as if it had been
paper, their slow but steady progress receiving no per-
ceptible check from its opposition. Some of these bergs
were of great size, and in proceeding onwards they
passed so close to the fort that the inhabitants feared
more than once that a falling pinnacle might descend on
the stores, which were built near to the water’s edge,
and crush them. As the tide gradually rose it rushed
with violence into the cavities beneath the solid ice on
the opposite shore, and finding no escape save through
afew rents and fissures, sent up columns or spouts of
white spray in all directions, which roared and shrieked
as they flew upwards, as if the great ocean were mad-
dened with anger at finding a power strong enough to
restrain and curb its might. At intervals the main ice
rent with a crash like the firing of artillery; and as if
nature had designed to carry on and deepen this simile,
the shore was lined with heaps of little blocks of ice
which the constantly recurring action of the tide had
moulded into the shape and size of cannon balls.

But such sights were common to the inhabitants of
Fort Chimo, and had long ago ceased to call forth more
than a passing remark.
UNGAVA. 299

“ May it not be possible,” murmured Stanley, while he
leant his brow on his hand, “that she may have gone up
False River ?”

“T think not,” said Frank. ‘I know not how it is,
but I have a strange conviction that she is yet alive.
If she had perished in the snow, we should certainly
have found her long ago. I cannot explain my feelings,
or give a reason for them, but I feel convinced that
darling Eda, is alive.”

“Oh, God grant it!” whispered Stanley in a deep voice,
while his wife hastened from the room to conceal the
tears which she could not restrain.

While Frank continued to gaze in silence on the bleak
scene without, a faint sound of sleigh-bells broke upon
his ear.

“Hark!” he cried, starting, and opening the door.

The regular and familiar sound of the bells came
floating sweetly on the breeze. They grew louder and
louder, and in a few seconds a team of dogs galloped
into the fort, dragging a small sled behind them. They
were followed by two stalwart Indians, whose costume
and manner told that they were in the habit of associat-
ing more with the fur-traders than with their own
kindred. The dogs ran the sled briskly into the centre
of the fort, and lay down panting on the snow, while
the two,men approached the hall.

“Tis a packet,” cried Stanley, forgetting for the mo-
ment his sorrow inthe excitement of this unexpectedarrival.

In a moment all the men at the fort were assembled
in the square.

“A packet! Where come you from ?”

“From Moose Fort,’ replied the elder Indian, while
his comrade unfastened from the sled a little bundle
containing letters.
300 UNGAVA.

“Any news? Are all well?” chorused the men.

“Ay, all well. It is many day since we left. The
way is very rough, and we did not find much deer. We
saw one camp of Indian, but they ’fraid to come. I not
know why. But I see with them one fair flower which
grow in the fields of the Esquimaux. I suppose the
Indian pluck her, and dare not come back here.”

Stanley started, and his cheek grew pale.

“A fair flower, say you? Speak literally, man: was
it a little white girl that you saw ?”

“No,” replied the Indian, “it was no white girl we
saw. It was one young Esquimau woman.”

Stanley heaved a deep sigh and turned away, mut-
tering, “Ah! I might have known that she could not
have fallen into the hands of Indians so far to the
south.”

“Well, lads, take care of these fellows,” he cried,
crushing down the feelings that had been for a bricf
moment awakened in his heart by the Indian’s words,
“and give them plenty to eat and smoke.” So saying
he went off with the packet, followed by Frank.

“Niver fear ye; come along, honey,” said Bryan,
grasping the elder Indian by the arm, while the younger
was carried off by Massan, and the dogs taken care of
by Ma-istequan and Gaspard.

On perusing the letters, Stanley found that it would
be absolutely necessary to send a packet of despatches
to head-quarters. The difficulties of his position required
to be more thoroughly explained, and erroneous notions
corrected.

“What shall I do, Frank?” said he, with a perplexed
look. “These Indians cannot return to Moose, having
received orders, I find, to journey in a different direction.
Our own men know the way, but I cannot spare the
UNGAVA. 301

good ones among them, and the second-rate cannot be
depended on without a leader.”

Frank did not give an immediate reply.) He seemed
to be pondering the subject in his mind. At length he
said, “ Could not Dick Prince be spared ?”

“No; he is too useful here. The fact is, Frank, I
think I must send you. It will do you good, my dear
boy, and tend to distract your mind from a subject which
is now hopeless.”

Frank at first objected strongly to this plan, on the
ground that it would prevent him from assisting in the
forlorn search for Edith; but Stanley pointed out that
he and the men could continue it, and that, on the other
hand, his (Frank’s) personal presence at head-quarters
would be of great importance to the interests of the
Company. At length Frank was constrained to obey.

The route by which he purposed to travel was over-

land to Richmond Gulf on snow-shoes; and as the way
was rough, he determined to take only a few days’ pro-
visions, and depend for subsistence on the hook and gun.
Maximus, Oolibuck, and Ma-istequan were chosen to
accompany him; and three better men he could not have
had, for they were stalwart and brave, and accustomed
from infancy to live by the chase, and traverse trackless
wastes, guided solely by that power of observation or
instinct with which savages are usually gifted.
_ With these men, a week’s provisions, a large supply
of ammunition, a small sledge, and three dogs, of whom
Chimo was the leader, Frank one morning ascended the
rocky platform behind the fort, and bidding adieu to
Ungava, commenced his long journey over the interior
of East Main.
CHAPTER XXX.

An old friend amid new friends and novelties—A desperate battle, and
a glorious victory.

HE scene of our story is now changed, and we

request our patient reader to fly away with us

deeper into the north, beyond the regions of Ungava,
and far out upon the frozen sea.

Here is an island which for many long years has
formed a refuge to the roe-deer during the winter, at
which season these animals, having forsaken the main-
land in autumn, dwell upon the islands of the sea. At
the time of which we write the island in question was
occupied by a tribe of Esquimaux, who had built them-
selves as curious a village as one could wish to see.
The island had little or no wood on it, and the few
willow bushes that showed their heads above the deep
snow were stunted and thin. Such as they were, how-
ever, they, along with a ledge of rock over which the
snow had drifted in a huge mound, formed a sort of
protection to the village of the Esquimaux, and sheltered
it from the cold blasts that swept over the frozen sea
from the regions of the far north. There were about
twenty igloes in the village, all of which were built in
the form of a dome, exactly similar to the hut con-
structed by Maximus on the lake. They were of various
sizes, and while some stood apart with only a small
UNGAVA. 303

igloe attached, others were congregated in groups and
connected by low tunnels or passages. The door-ways
leading into most of them were so low that the natives
were obliged to creep out and in on their hands and
knees; but the huts themselves were high enough to
permit the tallest man of the tribe to stand erect, and
some of them so capacious that a family of six or eight
persons could dwell in them easily. We may remark,
however, that Esquimau ideas of roominess and comfort
in their dwellings differ very considerably from ours.
Their chief aim is to create heat, and for this end they
cheerfully submit to what we would consider the dis-
comfort of crowding and close air..

The village at a little distance bore a curious resem-
blance to a cluster of white bee-hives; and the round,
soft, hairy natives, creeping out and in continually, and
moving about amongst them, were not unlike (with the
aid of a little imagination) to a swarm of monstrous
black bees—an idea which was further strengthened by
the continuous hum that floated on the air over the busy
settlement. Kayaks and oomiaks lay about in several
places supported on blocks of ice, and seal-spears, paddles,
dans, lances, coils of walrus-line, and other implements,
were intermingled in rare confusion with sledges, seal-
skins, junks of raw meat and bones, on which latter the
numerous dogs of the tribe were earnestly engaged.

In the midst of this village stood a hut which differed
considerably from those around. It was built of clear
ice instead of snow. There were one or two other
igloes made of the same material, but none so large,
clean, or elegant as this one. The walls, which were
perpendicular, were composed of about thirty large square
blocks, cernented together with snow, and arranged in
the form of an octagon. The roof was a dome of snow.
304 UNGAVA.

A small porch or passage, also of ice, stood in front: of
the low doorway, which had been made high enough to
permit the owner of the mansion to enter by stooping
slightly. In front and all around this hut the snow
was carefully scraped, and all offensive objects—such
as seal and whale blubber—removed, giving to it an
appearance of cleanliness and comfort which the neigh-
bouring igloes did not possess. Inside of this icy resi-
dence, on a couch of deerskin, was seated Edith Stanley!

On that terrible night when the child lost her way
in the dreary plain, she had wandered she knew not
whither, until she was suddenly arrested by coming to
the edge of the solid ice on the shores of Ungava Bay.
Here the high winds had broken up the ice, and the
black waters of the sea now rolled at her feet and
checked her progress. Terrified at this unexpected sight,
Edith endeavoured to retrace her steps; but she found
to her horror that the ice on which she stood was floating,
and that the wind, having shifted a point to the east-
ward, was driving it across to the west side of the bay.
Here, in the course of the next day, it grounded, and the
poor child, benumbed with cold and faint with hunger,
crept as far as she could on to the firm land, and then
lay down, as she thought, to die.

But it was otherwise ordained. In less than half-an-
hour afterwards she was found by a party of Esquimaux.
These wild creatures had come from the eastward in
their dog-sledges, and having passed well out to the
seaward, in order to avoid the open water off the mouth
of False River, had missed seeing their countrymen
there, and therefore knew nothing of the establishment
of Fort Chimo. In bending towards the land again
after passing the bay they came upon Edith’s tracks, and
after a short search they found her lying on the snow.
UNGAVA. 305

Words cannot convey an adequate impression of the
unutterable amazement of these poor creatures as they
beheld the fair child, so unlike anything they had ever
seen or imagined; but whatever may have been their
thoughts regarding her, they had sense enough to see
that she was composed of flesh and blood, and would
infallibly freeze if allowed to lie there much longer.
They therefore lifted her gently upon one of the large
sleighs, and placed her on a pile of furs in the midst of
a group of women and children, who covered her up and
chafed her limbs vigorously. Meanwhile, the drivers of
the sledges, of which there were six, with twenty dogs
attached to each, plied their long whips energetically ;
the dogs yelled in consternation, and, darting away with
the sledges as if they had been feathers, the whole tribe
went hooting, yelling, and howling away over the frozen
sea.

The surprise of the savages when they found Edith
was scarcely if at all superior to that of Edith when she
opened her eyes and began to comprehend somewhat
confusedly her peculiar position. The savages watched
her movements, open-mouthed, with intense curiosity,
and seemed overjoyed beyond expression when she at
length recovered sufficiently to exclaim feebly,—

“Where am I? where are you taking me to?”

We need scarcely add that she received no reply to
her questions, for the natives did not understand a word
of her language, and with the exception of the names of
one or two familiar objects she did not understand a
word of theirs. Of how far or how long they travelled
Edith could form no idea, as she slept profoundly during
the journey, and did not thoroughly recover her strength
and faculties until after her arrival at the camp.

For many days after reaching the Esquimau village

20
306 UNGAVA.

poor Edith did nothing but weep ; for, besides the miser-
able circumstances in which she was now placed, she
was much too considerate and unselfish in her nature
to forget that her parents would experience all the
misery of supposing her dead, and added to this was
the terrible supposition that the natives into whose
hands she had fallen might never hear of Fort Chimo.
The distracted child did her utmost by means of signs
to make them understand that such a place existed, but
her efforts were of no avail. Either she was not eloquent
in the language of signs, or the natives were obtuse.
As time abated the first violence of her grief, she began
to entertain a hope that ere long some wandering natives
might convey intelligence of her to the fur-traders. As
this hope strengthened she became more cheerful, and
resolved to make a number of little ornaments with her
name inscribed on them, which she meant to hang round
the necks of the chief men of the tribe, so that should
any of them ever chance to meet with the fur-traders,
these ornaments might form a clue to her strange resi-
dence.

A small medal of whalebone seemed to her the most
appropriate and tractable material, but it cost her many
long and weary hours to cut a circular piece of this
tough material with the help of an Esquimau knife.
When she had done it, however, several active boys who
had watched the operation with much curiosity and
interest, no sooner understood what she wished to make
than they set to work and cut several round pieces of
ivory or walrus-tusk, which they presented to their little
guest, who scratched the name EDITH on them and
hung them round the necks of the chief men of the
tribe. The Esquimaux smiled and patted the child’s
fair head kindly as they received this piece of attention,
UNGAVA. 307

which they flattered themselves, no doubt, was entirely
disinterested and complimentary.

Winter wore gradually away, and the ice upon the
sea began to show symptoms of decay opposite to the
camp of the Esquimaux. During the high winds of
spring the drift had buried the village so completely
that the bee-hives were scarcely visible, and the big
black bees walked about on the top of their igloes, and
had to cut deep down in order to get into them. For
some time past the natives had been unsuccessful in
their seal-hunting, and as seals and walruses constituted
their chief means of support they were reduced to short
allowance. dith’s portion, however, had never yet
been curtailed. It was cooked for her over the stone
lamp belonging to an exceedingly fat young woman
whose igloe was next to that of the little stranger, and
whose heart had been touched by the child’s sorrow:
afterwards it was more deeply touched by her gratitude
and affection. This woman’s name was Kaga, and she,
with the rest of her tribe, having been instructed care-
fully by Edith in the pronunciation of her own name,
ended in calling their little guest Heduck! Kaga had
a stout burly husband, named Annatock, who was the
best hunter in the tribe; she also had a nephew about
twelve or fourteen years old, named Peetoot, who was
very fond of Edith and extremely attentive to her.
Kaga had also a baby—a mere bag of fat—to which
Edith became so attached that she almost constituted
herself its regular nurse; and when the weather was
bad, so as to confine her to the house, she used to take
it from its mother, carry it off to her own igloe,
and play with it the whole day, much in the same
way as little girls play with dolls—with this difference,
however, that she considerately restrained herself from
308 UNGAVA.

banging its nose against the floor or punching out its
eyes !

It was a bright, clear, warm day. Four mock suns
encircled and emulated in brilliancy their great original.
The balmy air was beginning to melt the surface of the
snow, and the igloes that had stood firm for full half
a year were gradually becoming dangerous to walk over
and unsafe to sit under. Considerable bustle prevailed
in the camp, for a general seal-hunting expedition was
on foot, and the men of the tribe were preparing their
dog-sledges and their spears.

Edith was in her igloe of ice, seated on the soft pile
of deerskins which formed her bed at night and her
sofa by day, and worrying Kaga’s baby, which laughed
vociferously. The inside of this house or apartment
betokened the taste and neatness of its occupant. The
snow-roof, having begun to melt, had been removed,
and was replaced by slabs of ice, which, with the trans-
parent walls, admitted the sun’s rays in a soft bluish
light, which cast a fairy-like charm over the interior.
On a shelf of ice which had been neatly fitted into the
wall by her friend Peetoot lay a rude knife, a few pieces
of whalebone and ivory (the remains of the material of
which her medals had been made), and an ivory cup.
The floor was covered with willow matting, and on the
raised half of it were spread several deerskins with the
hair on.
this. On another shelf of ice, near the head of the bed,
stood a small stone lamp, which had been allowed to go
out, the weather being warm. The only other articles
of furniture in this simple apartment were a square
table and a square stool, both made of ice-blocks and
covered with sealskins.

While Edith and her living doll were in the height
UNGAYVA. 309

of their uproarious intercourse, they were interrupted
by Peetoot, who burst into the room, more like a hairy
wild-man-o’-the-wood than a human being. He carried
a short spear in one hand, and with the other pointed
in the direction of the shore, at the same time uttering
a volley of unintelligible sounds which terminated with
an emphatic “ Heduck !”

Edith’s love for conversation, whether she made her-
self understood or not, had increased rather than abated
in her peculiar circumstances.

“What is it, Peetoot ? Why do you look so excited ?
Oh dear, I wish I understood you—indeed I do! But
it’s of no use your speaking so fast.—(Be quiet, baby
darling)—I_ see you want me to do or say something ;
what can it be, I wonder ?”

Edith looked into the boy’s face with an air of per-
plexity.

Again Peetoot commenced to vociferate and gesticulate
violently ; but seeing, as he had often seen before, that
his young friend did not appear to be much enlightened,
he seized her by the arm, and, as a more summary and
practical way of explaining himself, dragged her towards
the door of the hut.

“Oh, the baby!” screamed Edith, breaking from him
and placing her charge in the farthest and safest part
of the couch. “Now I'll go with you, though I don’t
understand what you want. Well, I suppose I shall
find out in time, as usual.”

Having led Edith towards the beach, Peetoot pointed
to his uncle’s sledge, to which the dogs were already
harnessed, and made signs that Edith should go with
them.

“Oh, I understand you now. Well, it is a charming
day ; I think I will, Do you think Annatock will let
310 UNGAVA.

me? Qh, you don’t understand. Never mind; wait
till I put on my hood and return the baby to its mother.”

In two minutes Edith reappeared in her fur cloak
and Indian hood, with the fat baby sprawling and
laughing on her shoulder. That baby never cried. It
seemed as though it had resolved to substitute laughing
in its stead. Once only had Edith seen tears in its
little black eyes, and that was when she had given it a
spoonful of soup so hot that its mouth was scalded by it.

Several of the sledges had already left the island and
were flying at full speed over the frozen sea, deviating
ever and anon from the straight line in order to avoid a
hummock of ice or a gap of open water caused by the
separation of masses at the falling of the tide, while the
men shouted, and the dogs yelled as they observed the
flourish of the cruelly long and heavy lash.

“Shall I get in?” said Edith to Annatock, with an
inquiring look, as she approached the place where the
sledge was standing.

The Esquimau nodded his shaggy head and showed
a row of remarkably white teeth environed by a thick
black beard and moustache by way of reply to the look
of the child.

With a laughing nod to Kaga, who stood watching
them, Edith stepped in and seated herself on a deerskin
robe; Annatock and Peetoot sat down beside her; the
enormous whip gave a crack like a pistol-shot, and the
team of fifteen dogs, uttering a loud ery, bounded away
over the sea.

The sledge on which Edith was seated was formed
very much in the same manner as the little sled which
had been made for her at Fort Chimo. It was very
much larger, however, and could have easily held eight
or ten persons. The runners, which were shod with
UNGAVA. 3ll

frozen mud (a substance that was now becoming nearly
unfit for use owing to the warm weather), were a perfect
wonder of ingenuity, as indeed was the whole machine,
being pieced and lashed together with lines of raw hide
in the most complicated manner and very neatly. The
dogs were each fastened by a separate line to the sledge,
the best dog being placed in the centre and having the
longest line, while the others were attached by lines
proportionably shorter according to the distance of each
from the leading dog, and the outsiders being close to
the runners of the sledge. All the lines were attached
to the front bar of the machine. There were many
advantages attending this mode of harnessing, among
which were the readiness with which any dog could be
attached or detached without affecting the others, and
the ease with which Annatock, when so inclined, could
lay hold of the line of a refractory dog, haul him back
without stopping the others, and give him a cuffing.
This, however, was seldom done, as the driver could
touch any member of the team with the point of his
whip. The handle of this terrible instrument was not
much more than eighteen or twenty inches long, but the
lash was upwards of six yards! Near the handle it
was about three inches broad, being thick cords of
walrus-hide platted; it gradually tapered towards the
point, where it terminated in a fine line of the same
material. While driving, the long lash of this whip
trails on the snow behind the sledge, and by a peculiar
sleight of hand its serpentine coils can be brought up
for instant use.

No backwoodsman of Kentucky was ever more perfect
in the use of his pea-rifle or more certain of his aim
than was Annatock with his murderous whip. He was
a dead shot, so to speak. He could spread intense alarm
312 UNGAVA.

among the dogs by causing the heavy coil to whiz
over them within a hair’s-breadth of their heads; or he
could gently touch the extreme tip of the ear of a
skulker to remind him of his duty to his master and
his comrades; or, in the event of the warning being
neglected, he could bring the point down on his flank
with a crack like a pistol-shot, that would cause skin
and hair to fly, and spread yelping dismay among the
entire pack. And how they did run! The sledge
seemed a mere feather behind the powerful team. They
sprang forth at full gallop, now bumping over a small
hummock or diverging to avoid a large one, anon
springing across a narrow gap in the ice, or. sweeping
like the snowdrift over the white plain, while the sledge
sprang and swung and bounded madly on behind them ;
and Annatock shouted as he flourished his great whip
in the excitement of their rapid flight, and Peetoot
laughed with wild delight, and Edith sat clasping her
hands tightly over her knees—her hood thrown back,
her fair hair blown straight out by the breeze, her
cheeks flushed, her lips parted, and her eyes sparkling
with emotion as they whirled along in their mad and
swift career.

In half-an-hour the low village was out of sight, and
in half-an-hour more they arrived at the place where a
number of the Esquimaux were scattered in twos and
threes over the ice, searching for seal-holes, and pre-
paring to catch them.

“What is that man doing?” cried Edith, pointing to
an Esquimau who, having found a hole, had built a
semicircular wall of snow round it to protect him from
the light breeze that was blowing, and was sitting, when
Edith observed him, in the attitude of one who listened
intently. The hood of his sealskin coat was over his
UNGAVA. 313

head, so that his features were concealed. At his feet
lay a stout barbed seal-spear, the handle of which was
made of wood, and the barb and lower part of ivory.
A tough line was attached to this, and the other end of
it was fastened round the man’s waist; for when an
Esquimau spears a seal, he prepares to conquer or to
die. If he does not haul the animal out of the hole,
there is every probability that it will haul him into it.
But the Esquimau has laid it down as an axiom that a
man is more than a match for a seal; therefore he ties
the line round his waist—which is very much like nail-
ing the colours to the mast. There seems to be no
allowance made for the chance of an obstreperously
large seal allowing himself to be harpooned by a pre-
posterously small Esquimau; but we suppose that this
is the exception to the rule.

As Edith gazed, the Esquimau put out his hand with
the stealthy motion of a cat and lifted his spear. The
next instant the young ice that covered the hole was
smashed, and, in an instant after, the ivory barb was
deep in the shoulder of an enraged seal, which had thus
fallen a sacrifice to his desire for fresh air. The Esqui-
mau immediately lay back almost at full length, with
his heels firmly imbedded in two notches cut in the ice
at the edge of the hole; the seal dived, and the man’s
waist seemed to be nearly cut in two. But the rope
was tough and the man was stout, and although the
seal was both, it was conquered in the course of a
quarter of an hour, hauled out, and thrown exultingly
upon the ice.

This man had only watched at the seal-hole a couple
of hours, but the natives frequently sit behind their
snow-walls for the greater part of a day, almost with-
out moving hand or foot.
314 UNGAVA.

Having witnessed this capture, Annatock drove on
until the most of his countrymen were left behind.
Suddenly he called to the dogs to halt, and spoke in a
deep, earnest tone to his nephew, while both of them
gazed intently towards a particular quarter of the sea.
Edith looked in the same direction, and soon saw the
object that attracted their attention, but the only thing
it seemed like to her was an enormous cask or barrel.

“What is it?” said she to Peetoot, as Annatock
selected his largest spear, and hastened towards the
object.

Of course Edith received no reply save a broad
grin; but the little fellow followed up this remark, if
we may so call it, by drawing his finger through his
lips, and licking them in a most significant manner.
Meanwhile Annatock advanced rapidly towards the
object of interest, keeping carefully behind hummocks
of ice as he went, and soon drew near enough to make
certain that it was a walrus, apparently sound asleep,
with its blunt snout close to its hole, ready to plunge
in should an enemy appear.

Annatock now advanced more cautiously, and, when
within a hundred yards of the huge monster, lay down
at full length on his breast, and began to work his way
towards it after the manner of a seal. He was so like
a seal in his hairy garments that he might easily have
been mistaken for one by a more intellectual animal than
a walrus. But the walrus did not awake, and he
approached to within ten yards. Then, rising suddenly
to his feet, Annatock poised the heavy weapon, and
threw it with full force against the animal’s side. It
struck, and, as if it had fallen on an adamantine rock, it
bounded off and fell upon the ice, with its hard point
shattered and its handle broken in two.
UNGAVA. | 315

For one instant Annatock’s face blazed with sur-
prise; the next, it relapsed into fifty dimples, as he
roared and tossed up his arms with delight at the dis-
covery that the walrus had been frozen to death beside
its hole!

This catastrophe is not of unfrequent occurrence to
these elephants of the northern seas. They are in the
habit of coming up occasionally through their holes in
the ice to breathe, and sometimes they crawl out in
order to sleep on the ice, secure, in the protection of
their superabundant fat, from being frozen—at least
easily. When they have had enough of sleep, or when
the prickling sensation on their skin warns them that
nothing is proof against the cold of the Polar Seas, and
that they will infallibly freeze if they do not make a
precipitate retreat to the comparatively warm waters
below, they scramble to their holes, crush down the new
ice with their tusks and thick heads, and plunge in.
But sometimes the ice which forms on the holes when
they are asleep is too strong to be thus broken, in which
case the hapless monster lays him down and dies.

Such was the fate of the walrus which Annatock was
now cutting up with his axe into portable blocks of
beef. For several days previous to the thaw which had
now set in, the weather had been intensely cold, and
the walrus had perished in consequence of its ambitious
desire to repose in the regions above.

Not far from the spot where this fortunate discovery
had been made, there was a large sheet of recently
formed black ice, where the main ice had been broken
away and the open water left. The sheet, although
much melted by the thaw, was still about three inches
thick, and quite capable of supporting a man. While
Annatock was working with his back to this ice, he
316 UNGAVA.

heard a tremendous crash take place behind him. Turn-
ing hastily round, he observed that the noise was caused
by another enormous walrus, the glance of whose large
round eyes and whose loud snort showed clearly enough
that he was not frozen like his unfortunate companion.
By this time the little boy had come up with Edith and
the sledge, so Annatock ordered him to take the dogs
behind a hummock to keep them out of sight, while he
selected several strong harpoons and a lance from the
sledge. Giving another lance to Peetoot, he signed to
Edith to sit on the hummock while he attacked the
grisly monster of the deep.

While these preparations were being made, the walrus
dived, and while it was under water, the man and the
boy ran. quickly forward a short distance, and then lay
down behind a lump of ice. Scareely had they done so
when the walrus came up again with a loud snort, splash-
ing the water with its broad heavy flippers—which
seemed a sort of compromise between legs and fins—
and dashing waves over the ice as it rolled about its
large unwieldy carcass. It was truly a savage-looking
monster, as large as a small elephant, and having two
tusks of a foot and a half long. The face bore a
horrible resemblance to that of aman. Its crown was
round and bulging, its face broad and massive, and a
thick, bristling moustache—rough as the spines of a
poreupine—covered its upper lip, and depended in a
shaggy dripping mass over its mouth. After splutter-
ing about a short time it dived again.

Now was Annatock’s time. Seizing a harpoon and a
coil of line, he muttered a few words to the boy, sprang
up, and running out upon the smooth ice, stood by the
edge of the open water. He had not waited here more
than a few seconds when the black waters were cleft by
UNGAVA. 317

the blacker head of the monster, as it once more ascended
to renew its elephantine gambols in the pool. As it rose,
the Esquimau threw up his arm and poised the harpoon.
For one instant the surprised animal raised itself breast-
high out of the water, and directed a stare of intense
astonishment at the man. That moment was fatal.
Annatock buried the harpoon deep under its left flipper.
With a fierce bellow the brute dashed itself against the
ice, endeavouring in its fury to reach its assailant ; but
the ice gave way under its enormous weight, while
Annatock ran back as far as the line attached to the
harpoon would permit him.

The walrus, seeing that it could not reach its enemy
in this way, seemed now to be actually endued with
reason. It took a long gaze at Annatock, and then
dived. But the Esquimau was prepared for this. He
changed his position hastily, and played his line the
meanwhile, fixing the point of his lance into the ice, in
order to give him a more effective hold. Scareely had
he done so than the spot he had just left was smashed
up, and the head of the walrus appeared, grinning and
bellowing as if in disappointment. At this moment
Peetoot handed his uncle a harpoon, and, ere the animal
dived, the weapon was fixed in his side. Once more
Annatock changed his position ; and once again the spot
on which he had been standing was burst upwards. It
was a terrible sight to see that unearthly-looking monster
smashing the ice around it, and lashing the blood-stained
sea into foam, while it waged such mortal war with
the self-possessed and wary man. How mighty and
strong the one! how comparatively weak and seemingly
helpless the other! It was the triumph of mind over
matter—of reason over blind brute force. But Anna-
tock fought a hard battle that day ere he came off
318 UNGAVA.

conqueror. Harpoon after harpoon was driven into
the walrus; again and again the lance pierced deep
into its side, and drank its life-blood; but three hours
had passed away before the dead carcass was dragged
from the deep by the united force of dogs and man.

During this terrible combat Edith had looked on with
such intense interest that she could scarcely believe her
eyes when she found, from the position of the sun, that
the day was far advanced. It was too late now to think
of cutting up the carcasses without assistance, so Anna-
tock determined to return home and tell his countrymen
of his good fortune.

It is a custom among the Esquimaux to consider
every animal that is killed as the common property of
all—the successful hunter being entitled to all the tit-
bits, besides his portion of the equal dividend; so that
Annatock knew he had only to give the signal, and
every able-bodied man in the village, and not a few of
the women and children, would descend like vultures on
the spoil. Jumping into his sledge, he stretched out his
exhausted frame at full length beside Edith, and com-
mitted the whip to Peetoot.

“Tm so glad,” cried Edith, with a beaming face, “ that
we have killed this beast. The poor people will have
plenty to eat now.”

“Ha! ha! ha!” roared Peetoot, giving increased
emphasis to each successive shout, and prolonging the
last into a yell of delight, as he cracked the ponderous
whip from side to side like a volley of pistolry.

“O Peetoot!” exclaimed Edith in a remonstrative
tone, as the sledge swayed to and fro with the rate at
which they were sweeping over the plain, “don’t drive
so fast; you will kill the poor dogs!”

“Ho! ho! ho-o-o! Eeduck !” roared the boy, aiming a
UNGAVA. 319

shot at the leader’s left ear, and bringing the thick end
of the whip down on the flanks of the six hindmost
dogs.

Thus, amid a volley of roars, remonstrances, yells,
yelps, and pistolry, Edith and her friends scoured over
the frozen sea, and swept into the Esquimau camp like
a whirlwind.
CHAPTER XXXI.

Another desperate battle, and w decided victory—The-Esquimaua suffer a
severe loss.

HE night that followed the day of which we have
given an account in the last chapter was a night
of rest to Edith, but not to the Esquimaux.

Scarcely allowing themselves time to harness their
dogs, after the news reached them, they set off for the
scene of action in a body. Every sledge was engaged,
every able-bodied male and female started. None were
left in camp except the sick, of whom there were few—
and the aged, of whom there were fewer. While en-
gaged in the hurried preparations for departure the
women sang with delight, for they had been living on
very short allowance for some weeks past, and starvation
had been threatening them; so that the present success
diffused among these poor creatures a universal feeling
of joy. But their preparations were not numerous. A
short scene of excited bustle followed Annatock’s arrival,
a few yells from the dogs at starting, and the deserted
camp was so silent and desolate that it seemed as if
human beings had not been there for centuries.

It did not continue long, however, in this state. Two
or three hours later, and the first of the return parties
arrived, groaning under the burdens they carried and
dragged behind them. The walrus-fiesh was packed on
UNGAVA. 321

the dog-sledges ; but as for the few seals that had been
caught, they were sledges to themselves—cords being
tied to their tails, to which a dozen natives attached
themselves, and dragged the carcasses over the snow.

Peetoot, whose spirit that night seemed to be intoxi-
cated with success, and who felt that he was the lion of
the night (after Annatock !), seated himself astride of
one of the dead seals, and was dragged into camp on
this novel sledge, shouting a volley of unintelligible
jargon at the top of his voice, in the midst of which
“Keduck” frequently resounded. At length the last
lingerer arrived, and then began a feast of the most
extraordinary kind. The walrus-flesh was first conveyed
to the igloe of Annatock, where it was cut up and dis-
tributed among the natives. The women seemed quite
frantic with joy, and went about from hut to hut em-
bracing one another, by way of congratulation. Soon
the lamps of the village were swimming with oil, the
steaks stewing and roasting, the children provided with
pieces of raw blubber to keep them quiet while the larger
portions were being cooked, and the entire community
gormandizing and rejoicing as savages are wont to do
when suddenly visited with plenty in the midst of star-
vation.

During all this scene Edith went about from hut to
hut enjoying herself. Nay, reader, be not horrified:
thou knowest not the pliable and accommodating nature
of humanity. Edith did not enjoy the filth by which
she was surrounded—far from it; neither did she enjoy
the sight of raw blubber being sucked by little babies,
especially by her own favourite; but she did enjoy the
sight of so much plenty where, but a few hours ago,
starvation had begun to threaten a visit; and she did
enjoy and heartily sympathize with the undoubted and

21
322 UNGAVA.

great happiness of her hospitable friends. A very
savoury dish, with a due proportion of lean to the fat,
cut specially to suit her taste, smoked on Heduck’s table
that night, and Peetoot and the baby helped her to eat
it. Really it would be a matter of nice calculation to
ascertain whether Peetoot or the baby laughed most on
this jovial occasion. Undoubtedly the former had the
best of it in regard to mere noise; nevertheless the pipe
of the latter was uncommonly shrill, and at times re-
markably racy and obstreperous. But as the hours flew
by, the children throughout the camp generally fell
asleep, while their seniors sat quietly and contentedly
round their kettles and lamps, eating and slumbering by
turns. The amount of food consumed was enormous,
and quite beyond the belief of men accustomed to the
appetites of temperate zones; but we beg them to re-
member that arctic frosts require to be met with arctic
stimulants, and of these an immense quantity of unctuous
food is the best.

Next morning the Esquimaux were up and away by
daybreak, with their dogs and sledges, to bring home
the remainder of the walrus-meat; for these poor people
are not naturally improvident, and do not idle their time
in luxurious indolence until necessity urges them forth
again in search of food. In this respect they are superior
to Indians, who are notoriously improvident and regard-
less of the morrow.

This day was signalized by another piece of success on
the part of Annatock and his nephew, who went to the
scene of yesterday’s battle on foot. Edith remained be-
hind, having resolved to devote herself entirely to the
baby, to make up for her neglect of the previous day.
On reaching the place where the walrus had been slain,
Annatock cut off and bound up a portion with which he
UNGAVA. 323

intended to return to the camp. While he was thus
employed, along with a dozen or more of his country-
men, Peetoot came running towards him, saying that he
thought he saw a seal lying on the ice far ahead. Hav-
ing a harpoon and two spears with them, Annatock left
his work and followed his nephew to the spot where it
was supposed to be lying. But on reaching the place
they found that it was gone, and a few bells floating at
the surface of the hole showed where it had made its
descent to the element below. With the characteristic
indifference of a man accustomed to the vicissitudes and
the disappointments of a hunter's life, the elder Esquimau
uttered a grunt and turned away. But he had not pro-
ceeded more than a few paces when his eye became
rivetted on the track of some animal on the ice, which
appeared to his practised eye to be quite fresh. Upon
examination this proved to be the case, and Annatock
spoke earnestly for a few minutes with his nephew.
The boy appeared from his gestures to be making some
determined remarks, and seemed not a little hurt at the
doubting way in which his uncle shook his head. At
length Peetoot seized a spear, and, turning away, followed.
the track of the animal with a rapid and determined air ;
while Annatock, grasping the other spear, followed in the
boy’s track.

A brisk walk of half-an-hour over the ice and hum-
mocks of the sea carried them out of sight of their com-
panions, but did not bring them up with the animal of
which they were in chase. At length Peetoot halted,
and stooped to scrutinize the track more attentively.
As he did so an enormous white bear stalked out from
behind a neighbouring hummock of ice, and after gazing
at him for a second or two, turned round and walked
slowly away.
324. UNGAVA.

The elder Esquimau cast # doubtful glance at his
nephew, while he lowered the point of his spear and
seemed to hesitate; but the boy did not wait. Level-
ling his spear, he uttered a wild shout and ran towards
the animal, which instantly turned towards the ap-
proaching enemy with a look of defiance. If Annatock
had entertained any doubts of his nephew’s courage
before, he had none now; so, casting aside all further
thought on the subject, he ran forward along with him
to attack the bear. This was a matter attended with
much danger, however, and there was some reason in the
man feeling a little uncertainty as to the courage of a
youth who, he was aware, now faced a bear for the first
time in his life!

At first the two hunters advanced side by side towards
the fierce-looking monster, but as they drew near they
separated, and approached one on the right, the other
on the left of the bear. As it was determined that An-
natock should give the death-wound, he went towards
the left side and hung back a moment, while Peetoot
advanced to the right. When about three yards distant
the bear rose. The action had a powerful and visible
effect upon the boy, for as polar bears are comparatively
long-bodied and short-legged, their true proportions are
not fully displayed until they rear on their hind legs.
It seemed as if the animal actually grew taller and more
enormous in the act of rising, and the boy’s cheek
blanched while he shrank backwards for a moment.
It was only for a moment, however. A quick word of
encouragement from Annatock recalled him. He stepped
boldly forward, as the bear was glancing savagely from
side to side, uncertain which enemy to attack first, and,
thrusting his lance forward, pricked it sharply on the
side. This decided the point. With a ferocious growl
UNGAVA. 825

the animal turned to fall upon its insignificant enemy.
In doing so its left shoulder was fully exposed to Anna-
tock, who, with a dart like lightning, plunged his spear
deep into its heart. A powerful shudder shook the mon-
ster’s frame as it fell dead upon the ice.

Annatock stood for a few minutes leaning on his
spear, and regarding the bear with a grim look of satis-
faction, while Peetoot laughed, and shouted, and danced
around it like a maniac. How long he would have con-
tinued these wild demonstrations it is difficult to say—
probably until he was exhausted—but his uncle brought
them to a speedy termination by bringing the butt-end
of his spear into smart contact with Peetoot’s flank.
With a howl, in which consternation mingled with his
glee, the boy darted away over the ice like a reindeer
to convey the glad news to his friends, and to fetch a
sledge for the bear’s carcass.

On returning to the village there was immediately in-
stituted another royal feast, which continued from day
to day, gradually decreasing in joyous intensity as the
provender decreased in bulk, until the walruses, the bear,
and the seals were entirely consumed.

Soon after this the weather became decidedly mild,
and the power of the sun’s rays was so great, that the
snow on the island and the ice on the sea began to be
resolved into water. During this period several import-
ant changes took place in the manners and customs of
the Esquimaux. The women, who had worn deerskin
shoes during the winter, put on their enormous water-
proof summer boots. The men, when out on the ice in
search of seals, used a pair of wooden spectacles, with
two narrow slits to peep through, in order to protect
their eyes from the snow-blindness caused by the glare
of the sun on the ice and snow—a complaint which is
326 UNGAVA.

apt to attack all arctic travellers in spring if not guarded
against by some such appliance as the clumsy wooden
spectacles of the Esquimaux. Active preparations were
also made for the erection of skin summer tents, and the
launching of kayaks and oomiaks. Moreover, little boys
were forbidden to walk, as they had been wont to do,
on the tops of the snow-houses, lest they should damage
the rapidly-decaying roofs; but little boys in the far
north inherit that tendency to disobedience which is
natural to the children of Adam all the world over, and
on more than one occasion, having ventured to run over
the igloes, were caught in the act by the thrusting of a
leg now and then through the roofs thereof, to the in-
dignation of the inmates below.

A catastrophe of this sort happened to poor Peetoot
not long after the slaying of the polar bear, and brought
the winter camp to an abrupt termination.

Kdith had been amusing herself in her house of ice
all the morning with her adopted baby, and was in the
act of feeding it with a choice morsel of seal-fat—par-
tially cooked,to avoid doing violence to her own prejudices,
and very much under-done in order to suit the Esqui-
mau baby’s taste—when Peetoot rushed violently into
the hut, shouted Eeduck with a boisterous smile, seized
the baby in his arms, and carried it off to its mother.
Edith was accustomed to have it thus torn from her by
the boy, who was usually sent as a messenger when Kaga
happened to desire the loan of her offspring.

The igloe in which Kaga and her relations dwelt was
the largest in the village. It was fully thirty feet in
diameter. ‘The passage leading to it was a hundred
yards long, by five feet wide and six feet high, and from
this passage branched several others of various lengths,
leading to different storehouses and to other dwellings.
UNGAVA. 327

The whiteness of the snow of which this princely man-
sion and its offices were composed was not much altered
on the exterior; but in the interior a long winter of cook-
ing and stewing and general filthiness had turned the
walls and roofs quite black. Being somewhat lazy, Pee-
toot preferred the old plan of walking over this palace
to going round by the entrance, which faced the south.
Accordingly, he hoisted the fat and smiling infant on
his shoulder, and bounded over the dome-shaped roof of
Kaga’s igloe. Alas for the result of disobedience! No
sooner had his foot touched the key-stone of the arch
than down it went. Dinner was being cooked and con-
sumed by twenty people below at the time. The key-
stone buried a joint of walrus-beef, and instantly Peetoot
and the baby lay sprawling on the top of it. But this
was not all. The roof, unable to support its own weight,
eracked and fell in with a dire crash. The men, women,
and children struggled to disentomb themselves, and in
doing so mixed up the oil of the lamps, the soup of their
kettles, the black soot of the walls and roof, the dogs
that had sneaked in, the junks of cooked, half-cooked,
and raw blubber, and their own hairy-coated persons, into
a conglomerate so atrocious to behold, or even think upon,
that we are constrained to draw a curtain over the scene
and spare the reader’s feelings. This event caused the
Esquimaux to forsake the igloes, and pitch their skin
tents on a spot a little to the southward of their winter-
ing ground, which, being more exposed to the sun's rays,
was now free from snow.

They had not been encamped here more than three
days when an event occurred which threw the camp into
deep grief for a time. This was the loss of their great
hunter, Annatock, the husband of Kaga. One of those
tremendous north-west gales, which now and then visit
328 UNGAVA.

the arctic seas and lands with such devastating fury, had
set in while Annatock was out on the ice-floe in search
of seals. Many of his comrades had started with him
that day, but, being a bold man, he had pushed beyond
them all. When the gale came on the Esquimau hun-
ters prepared to return home as fast as possible, fearing
that the decaying ice might break up and drift away
with them out to sea. Before starting they were alarmed
to find that. the seaward ice was actually in motion. It
was on this ice that Annatock was employed; and his
countrymen would fain have gone to warn him of his
danger, but a gap of thirty feet already separated the
floe from the main ice, and although they could perceive
their friend in the far distance, busily employed on the
ice, they could not make their voices heard. As the gale
increased the floe drifted faster out to sea, and Annatock
was observed running anxiously towards the land; but
before he reached the edge of the ice-raft on which he
stood, the increasing distance and the drifting clouds of
snow hid him from view. Then his companions, fearful
for their own safety, hastened back to the camp with the
sad news.

At first Kaga seemed quite inconsolable, and Edith
exerted herself as a comforter without success; but as
time wore on the poor woman’s grief abated, and hope
began to revive within her bosom. She recollected that
the event which had befallen her husband had befallen
some of her friends before in exactly similar circum-
stances, and that, although on many occasions the result
had been fatal, there were not a few instances in which
the lost ones had been driven on their ice-raft to distant
parts of the shore, and after months, sometimes years,
of hardship and suffering, had returned to their families
and homes.
UNGAVA. 329

Still this hope was at best a poor one. For the few
instances there were of return from such dangers, there
were dozens in which the poor Esquimaux were never
heard of more; and the heart of the woman sank within
her as she thought of the terrible night on which her
husband was lost, and the great, stormy, ice-laden sea,
over whose surging bosom he was drifted. But the
complex machinery of this world is set in motion and
guided by One whose power and wisdom infinitely
transcend those of the most exalted of his creatures ;
and ib is a truth well worthy of being reiterated and
re-impressed upon our memories, that in His hands those
events that seem most adverse to man often turn out to
be for his good.
CHAPTER XXXII.

Edith waxes melancholy, but her sadness is suddenly turned into joy; and the
Esquimaux receive a surprise, and find a friend, and lose one.

HE sea! How many stout hearts thrill and manly
bosoms swell at the sound of that little word, or,
rather, at the thought of all that it conveys! How many
there are that reverence and love thy power and beauty,
thy freedom and majesty, O sea! Wherein consists the
potent charm that draws mankind towards thee with
such irresistible affection? Is it in the calm tranquillity
of thy waters, when thou liest like a sheet of crystal,
with a bright refulgent sky reflected in thy soft bosom,
and the white ships resting there as if in empty space,
and the glad sea-mews rippling thy surface for a brief
moment and then sailing from the blue below to the
deeper blue above, and the soft song of thy wavelets as
they slide upon the shingly shore or lip among the
caves and hollows of the rocks? Or is it in the loud
roar of thy billows, as they dash and fume and lash in
fury on the coasts that dare to curb thy might ?—that
might which, commencing, mayhap, in the torrid zone
of the south, has rolled and leaped in majesty across the
waste of waters, tossed leviathans, as playthings, in its
strength, rushed impetuously over half the globe, and
burst at last in helplessness upon a bed of sand! Or
does the charm lie in the yet fiercer strife of the tem-
UNGAVA. 331

pest and the hurricane, when the elements, let loose,
sweep round the shrinking world in fury; or in the
ever-changing aspect of thy countenance, now bright
and fair, now ruffled with the rising breeze, or darkened
by the thunder-cloud that bodes the coming storm ?

Ah, yes! methinks not one but all of these combined
do constitute the charm which draws mankind to thee,
bright ocean, and fills his soul with sympathy and love.
For in the changeful aspects of thy visage there are
talismans which touch the varied chords that vibrate in
the hearts of men. Perchance, in the bold whistle of
thy winds, and the mad rolling of thy waves, an emblem
of freedom is recognized by crushed and chafing spirits
longing to be free. They cannot wall thee round.
They cannot map thee into acres and hedge thee in,
and leave us naught but narrow roads between. No
ploughshare cleaves thee save the passing keel; no
prince or monarch owns thy haughty waves. In thy
hidden caverns are treasures surpassing those of earth ;
and those who dwell on thee in ships behold the wonders
of the mighty deep. We bow in adoration to thy great
Creator; and we bow to thee in love and reverence and
sympathy, O sea!

Edith sat on the sea-shore. The glassy waves were
no longer encumbered with ice, but shone like burnished
gold in the light of the summer sun. Here and there,
however, a large iceberg floated on the deep—a souvenir
of winter past, a guarantee of winter yet to come. At
the base of these blue islands the sea, calm though it
was, broke in a continual roar of surf, and round their
pinnacles the circling sea-birds sailed. The yellow sands
on which the child sat, the green willows that fringed
the background of brown rocks, and the warm sun,
contrasted powerfully with the vestiges of winter on


332 UNGAVA.

the sea, while a bright parhelia in the sky enriched
and strengthened these characteristics of an arctic
summer.

There was busy life and commotion in the Esquimau
camp, from which Edith had retired to some distance
to indulge in solitude the sad reveries of home, which
weighed more heavily on her mind as the time flew by
and the hope of speedy delivery began to fade.

“OQ my own dear mother!” sighed the child aloud,
while a tear trickled down each cheek, “shall I never
see you more? My heart is heavy with wishing, al-
ways wishing. But no one comes. I never see a boat
or a ship on that wide, wide sea. Oh, when, when will
it come ?”

She paused, and, as she had often done before, laid
her face on her hands and wept. But Edith soon re-
covered. These bursts of grief never lasted long, for the
child was strong in hope. She never doubted that de-
liverance would come at last; and she never failed to
supplicate at the throne of mercy, to which her mother
had early taught her to fly in every time of trouble and
distress.

Soon her attention was attracted from the sea, over
whose wide expanse she had been gazing wistfully, by
the loud voices of the Esquimaux, as a number of them
prepared to embark in their kayaks. Several small
whales had been descried, and the natives, ever on the
alert, were about to attack them. Presently Edith ob-
served Peetoot running along the beach towards her
with a seal-spear or harpoon in his hand. This youth
was a remarkably intelligent fellow, and had picked up
a few words and sentences of English, of which he made
the most.

“Heduck! Heduck!” he cried, pointing to one of the
UNGAVA. 333

oomiaks which the women were launching, “you go-—
kill whale—funny ; yes, Eeduck.”

“JT don’t think it will be very funny,” said Edith,
laughing ; “but I'll go to please you, Peetoot.”

“Goot, Eeduck ; you is goot,” shouted the boy, while
he flourished his harpoon, and seizing his companion by
the hand, dragged her in the direction of the kayaks.

In a few minutes Edith was ensconced in the centre
of the ocomiak amid a pack of noisy Esquimau women,
whose tongues were loosed and spirits raised by the
hope of a successful hunt. They went merely for the
purpose of witnessing the sport, which was to be pro-
secuted by twelve or thirteen men, each in his arrow-
like kayak. The women sat round their clumsy boat
with their faces to the bow, each wielding a short, broad
paddle, with which they propelled their craft at good
speed over the glassy wave; but a few alternate dips
of the long double-bladed paddles of the kayaks quickly
sent the men far ahead of them. In the stern of the
oomiak sat an old gray-headed man, who filled the office
of steersman; a duty which usually devolves upon old
men after they become unfit to manage the kayak.
Indeed, it requires much vigour as well as practice to
paddle the kayak, for it is so easily upset that a man
could not sit in it for a minute without the long paddle,
in the clever use of which lies the security of the Es-
quimau.

When the flotilla had paddled out a short distance a
whale rose, and lay as if basking on the surface of the
water. Instantly the men in the kayaks shot towards
it, while the oomiak followed as fast as possible. On
drawing near, the first Esquimau prepared his harpoon.
To the barb of this weapon a stout line, from eight to
twelve fathoms long, was attached, having a dan, or
334 UNGAVA.

float, made of a sealskin at the other end of it. The
dan was large enough to hold fifteen gallons or more.

Having paddled close to the whale, the Esquimau
fixed the harpoon deep in its side, and threw the dan
overboard. The whale dived in an agony, carrying the
dan down along with it, and the Esquimau, picking up
the liberated handle of the harpoon as he passed, paddled
in the direction he supposed the whale must have taken.
In a short time the dan re-appeared at no great distance.
The kayaks, as if shot from a bow, darted towards the
spot, and before the huge fish could dive a second time,
it received two more harpoons and several deep stabs
from the lances of the Esquimaux. Again it dived,
carrying two additional dans down with it. But the
drageing tendency of these three large floats, combined
with the deep wounds it had received, brought the fish
sooner than before to the surface, where it was instantly
met and assailed by its relentless pursuers, who, in the
course of little more than an hour, killed it, and dragged
it in triumph to the shore.

The natives were still occupied in towing the captured
fish, when one of the men uttered a wild shout, and
pointed eagerly out to sea, At first Edith imagined
that they must have seen another whale in the distance ;
but this opinion was quickly altered when she observed
the eager haste with which they paddled towards the
land, and the looks of surprise with which, ever and
anon, they regarded the object on the horizon. This
object seemed a mere speck to Edith’s unaccustomed
eyes ; but as she gazed long and earnestly at it, a thought
flashed across her mind. She sprang up ; her sparkling
eyes seemed as though they would burst from their
sockets in her eager desire to make out this object of so
great interest. At this moment the oomiak touched the
UNGAVA. 335

land. With a bound like a gazelle Edith sprang on
shore and ran panting with excitement to the top of a
rocky eminence. Here she again directed her earnest
gaze out to sea, while her colour went and came as she
pressed her hands upon her breast in an agony of hope.
Slowly but surely the speck came on; the wind shifted
a point, which caused a gleam of sunlight to fall upon
a sail. It was a boat! there could be no doubt of it—
and making directly for the island! Unable to contain
herself, Edith, uttering a piercing cry, sank upon the
ground and burst into a passionate flood of tears. It
was the irresistible impulse of hope long deferred at
length realized ; for the child did not entertain a doubt
that this was at length the answer to her prayers.

Meanwhile the Esquimaux ran about in a state of
extraordinary excitement. These people had very prob-
ably heard of the ships which once a year pass through
Hudson’s Straits on their way to the depots on the
shores of Hudson’s Bay; but they had never met with
them, or seen a Kublunat (white face) before that great
day in their annals of discovery when they found little
Edith fainting in the snow. Their sharp eyes had at once
detected that the approaching boat was utterly different
from their own kayaks or oomiaks. And truly it was;
for as she drew near with her white sails bending before
the evening breeze that had recently sprung up, and the
Union Jack flying from her peak, and the foam curling
before her sharp prow, she seemed a very model of
grace and symmetry.

There were only three figures in the boat, one of
whom, by the violent gesticulations that he made as
they approached, bespoke himself an Esquimau; the
other two stood erect and motionless, the one by the
tiller, the other by the sheet.
336 UNGAVA.

“ Let go,” said a deep soft voice, when the boat was
within a stone’s-cast of the shore.

The sheet flapped in the wind as the peak fell, and
in another instant the keel grated on the sand.

For one moment a feeling of intense disappointment
filled Edith’s heart as she sought in vain for the face of
her father or Frank ; then with a cry of joy she sprang
forward and flung herself into the arms of her old
enemy, Gaspard !

“Thank God!” said Dick Prince, with a tremulous
voice, as he leaped lightly from the boat and clasped
the child in his arms; “thank God we have found you,
Miss Edith! This will put new life into your poor
mother’s heart.”

“Oh! how is she? Why did she not come with you ?”
sobbed Edith; while Dick Prince, seating himself on a
rock, drew her on his knee and stroked her fair head
as she wept upon his shoulder.

Meanwhile Annatock was being nearly devoured by
his wife and child and countrymen, as they crowded
round him to obtain information, and to heap upon
him congratulations; and Gaspard, in order to restrain,
and at the same time relieve his feelings, essayed to
drag the boat out of the water, in which attempt,
giant though he was, being single-handed, he utterly
failed.

After the first eager questions were answered on both
sides, the natives were informed by their comrade of the
nature and objects of the establishment at Ungava, and
they exhibited the most extravagant signs of joy on hear-
ing the news. When their excitement was calmed
down a, little, they conducted the party to their principal
tent, and set before them the choicest viands they pos-
sessed, talking vehemently all the while, and indulging
UNGAVA. 387

in a few antics occasionally, expressive of uncontrollable
delight.

“Ye see, Miss Edith,” began Prince, when he and
Gaspard were seated before a round of walrus-beef,
“the way we came to know your whereabouts was this:
Gaspard and me was sent down to the coast to hunt seals,
for we were getting short o’ blubber, and did not like
to be obleeged to give deers-meat to the dogs. You
father gave us the boat; ‘for,’ says he, ‘ Prince, itll take
ye down faster than the canoe with this wind; and if
ye see any o’ the natives, be sure ye don’t forget to ask
about her, Prince. Ye see, Miss Edith, ever since ye
was lost we never liked to mention your name, although
we often spoke of you, for we felt that we might be
speakin’ o’ the dead. Hows’ever, away we went for the
shores o’ the bay, and coasted along to the westward
a bit. Then we landed at a place where there was
a good lot o’ field-ice floatin’, with seals lyin’ on it, and
we began to catch them. One day, when we was goin’
down to the ice as usual, we saw a black object sittin’
on a floe that had drifted in the night before with a stiff
breeze.

“
“*So ’tis, said I. ‘If there was ever black bears up
hereabouts, I would say it was one o’ them.’

“«Put a ball in yer gun, says Gaspard; for ye see,
as we had been blazin’ at small birds the day before,
there was nothing but shot in it. So I put in a ball,
and took aim at the beast, intendin’ to give it a long
shot. But I was marcifully prevented from firin’. Jist
as I squinted along the barrel, the beast rose straight
up, and held up both its fore-paws. ‘Stop!’ roars
Gaspard in an awful fright; and sure enough I lowered
my gun, and the beast hailed us in the voice of a man,

29
338 UNGAVA.

and began to walk to the shore. He seemed quite worn
out when he landed, and I could understand enough of
his jargon to make out that he had been blown out
to sea on the floe, and that his name was Annatock.

“While we were talkin’ to the Esquimau, Gaspard
cries out, ‘I say, Prince, look here! There’s a sort 0
medal on this chap’s neck with somethin’ written on it.
Youre a larned fellow, Prince, see if ye can make it
out. So I looked at it, and rubbed my eyes once or
twice, I can tell you, for, sure enough, there was EDITH
as plain as the nose on my face.”

“Oh,” exclaimed Edith, smiling through her tears,
“that was the medal I hung round his neck long, long
ago! I hoped that it might be seen some day by people
who knew me.”

“T thought so, miss,” returned Prince—*“I thought as
much, for I knew that the Esquimau could never have
invented and writ that out of his own head, ye see.
But Gaspard and me had most awful trouble to get him
to explain how he came by it, and where he came from.
Hows’ever, we made out at last that he came from an
island in this direction, so we just made up our minds
to take the boat and come straight away for the island,
which we did, takin’ Annatock to pilot us.”

“Then does my father not know where you are, or
anything about your having heard of me?” inquired
Edith, in surprise.

“Why, no, Miss Edith,” replied Prince. “You see,
it would have lost us two or three days to have gone
back to Fort Chimo; and, after all, we thought it might
turn out a false scent, and only raise your poor mother’s
hopes for nothin’. Besides, we were sent away for a
week or two, so we knew they wouldn’t wonder at our
absence; so we thought, upon the whole, it would be
UNGAVA. 339

best to come at once, ‘specially since it was sich a short
distance.”

“A short distance!” repeated Edith, starting up. “I
thought we must be miles and miles, oh, ever so far
away! Is the distance really short?”

“Ay, that it is, little one,” said Prince, patting the
child on the head. “It is not more than three days’
rowing from this island, and a stiff breeze on the quarter
would carry us there in less than two.”

“And Frank, where is Frank?” said Edith, with a
look of eager inquiry.

“ Ah, miss,” replied Prince, “he has been away almost
as long as yourself. Soon after you were lost a packet
came from the south, and he was obleeged to give up
the sarch after you—though he was loath to do it—
and set out with three o’ the men for Moose. From
that day to this we've heerd nothin’ of him. But the
journey he had to make was a long one—havin’ to go
round all the way to York Fort—so we didn’t expect
to hear o’ him afore now. But I'll tell ye more about
all your old friends when we git things ready for a start
to-morrow.”

The remainder of that day was spent in making pre-
paration for setting sail on the following morning. The
first intimation of the existence of the new trading-fort
had thrown the child-like natives into rapturous de-
light ; but when Prince told them he intended to go off
the next day with the child who had been as a bright
spirit in their camp so long, they fell into the depths
of grief. Indeed, there was manifested a slight desire
to offer forcible opposition to this; but when Edith told
them, through the medium of Peetoot, who acted as her
interpreter, that the distance to her father’s fort was
not great, and that she would expect them to come


340 UNGAVA.

often there, and stay long, they became reconciled to
her departure; and when she sought to turn their minds
(a work of no great difficulty at any time) away from
that subject by describing to them the treasures of the
trading-store, they danced and laughed and sang like
very children. Even Kaga’s baby crowed with a racy
richness of feeling, and smiled with an oily brilliancy
of expression, compared to which all its former exhibi-
tions were mere child’s play.

But when the hour of departure really came, and
Edith bade farewell to her kind friends, whose rude but
warm hospitality she had enjoyed so long, they were
again plunged into the deepest distress; and when the
little boat finally put to sea, there was not a tearless
eye among the tribe, while Edith was swiftly borne
from their island shore before a strong and favouring
breeze.
CHAPTER XXXIIL

The clouds are broken, the sun bursts through and once more irradiates Fort
Chimo—Hopes and fears for Maximus.

HE wings of time moved slowly and heavily along
at Fort Chimo. Hope long deferred, expectation
frequently reviving and as often disappointed, crushed
the spirits of the little party. The song, and jest, and
laugh seldom sounded from the houses of the men, who
went through their daily avocations almost in silence.
Not only had the loss of Edith—the bright spirit of the
place, the tender rosebud in that savage wilderness—
cast an overwhelming gloom upon the fort, but the
failure of the trade, to a great extent, had added to the
general depression, and now fresh anxiety was beginning
to be felt at the non-appearance of Frank Morton.

“ Jessie,” said Stanley one day, as he rose from the
desk at which he had been writing, and put on his cap
with the intention of taking a stroll along the beach,
“will you come with me to-day? I know not how it
is, but every time I go out now I expect to hear the
ship’s gun as it comes through the narrows.”

Mrs. Stanley rose, and throwing on a shawl and hood,
accompanied her husband in silence.

“Perhaps,” she said at length, “you expect to hear
the gun because the vessel owght to be here by this
time.”
342 UNGAVA.

As she spoke, La Roche came up and touched his cap.
“Please, madame, vat you vill have pour dinner?”

“Whatever you please, La Roche. Repeat yester-
day's,” answered Mrs. Stanley, with the air of one who
did not wish to be troubled further on the subject. But
La Roche was not to be so easily put down.

“Ah, madame! pardonnez moi. Dat is impossible.
Ve have fresh fish yesterday, dere be no fresh fish to-
day. More de pity. C’est damage—dat Gaspard him
gone away—”

La Roche was interrupted by a sudden exclamation
from his master, who pointed, while he gazed earnestly,
towards the narrows of the river. It seemed as if the
scene of last year were repeated in a vision. Against
the dark rock appeared the white triangular sail of a
vessel. Slowly, like a phantom, it came into view, for
the wind was very light; while the three spectators on
the beach gazed with beating hearts, scarcely daring
to credit their eyes. In a few seconds another sail
appeared—a schooner floated into view; a white cloud
burst from her bows, and once again the long silent
echoes of Ungava were awakened by the roaring of
artillery. The men of the fort left their several em-
ployments and rushed to the beach to welcome the vessel
with a cheer; but although it was heartfelt and vigorous,
it was neither so prolonged nor so enthusiastic as it was
on the first occasion of the ship’s arrival.

As the vessel dropped anchor opposite the fort, Frank
Morton leaped on her bow, and along with the crew
returned the cheer with a degree of energy that awakened
memories of other days.

“There’s Frank!” cried Stanley, turning on his
wife a glance of joy. “Bless the boy! It warms my
heart to see him. He must have picked up some
UNGAVA. 343

Indian woman by the way. I see the flutter of a
petticoat.”

As he spoke, the boat pushed off from the vessel's
side, and a few rapid strokes sent it bounding towards
the shore.

“Eh! what's this?” exclaimed Stanley, as his wife
broke from him, and with a wild shriek rushed into
the lake.

The figure of a child stood on the boat's bow, with
her arms extended to the shore.

“Hurrah, lads! give way!” shouted Frank’s deep
voice.

“Mother! mother!” cried the child.

In another moment Frank bounded over the boat's
side and placed Edith in her mother’s arms!

Reader, there are incidents in the histories of men
which cannot be minutely described without being
marred. Such an one was the meeting between the
father and mother and their long-lost child. We refrain
from attempting to draw aside the curtain further than
to say that the joy and gratitude in more than one
heart at Ungava found vent that night in thanksgiving
to Him who can bring light out of darkness and turn
sorrow into joy.

The greater part of the day was spent at the fort in
that feverish excitement which cannot calm down to
steady conversation, but vents itself in eager, rambling
questions and abrupt replies. Meanwhile, the necessity
of discharging the cargo of the vessel, and preparing the
furs for shipment, served to distract the attention and
occupy the hands of the whole party.

As evening advanced, La Roche, true to his duty,
placed supper on the table, and Stanley and his wife,
344, UNGAVA.

along with Edith and Frank, while they partook of the
meal, continued their inquiries.

“Whereabouts was it, Frank, that you fell in with
the boat?” said Stanley.

“Not more than five miles from the mouth of the
river, at about six this morning. We observed the boat
beset by a pretty solid pack of ice, and you may be
sure we were not a little surprised when we saw the
Union Jack run up to her peak; so I ordered our boat
to be lowered, intending to go to her assistanee. While
the men were doing this, I examined her with the glass,
and then it was that I found, to my amazement and ,
inexpressible joy, that the boat contained Prince, Gas-
pard, and Edith.”

“Ah! Frank,” said Mrs. Stanley, “was it not a
strange providence that you, who were so sad at being
compelled to give up the search, should be the one
appointed to find our beloved child, and bring her back
to us?”

“Nay,” replied Frank, “it was not I who found her.
Let me not rob Dick Prince and Gaspard of the honour
and gratitude which they have nobly won.”

“And what do you think of the non-arrival of
Maximus?” said Stanley, whose feelings were still too
much perturbed to allow him to dwell for more than
a few minutes at a time on any subject. Frank shook
his head.

“T know not what to think,” said he. “As I have
told you already, we left him at Moose Fort with his
recovered bride, and we got the missionary to marry
them there in due form. Next day they started in a
small canoe on their return voyage to Ungava, and the
day following I left for Lake Superior. I fully expected
to find them here on my return.”
UNGAVA. 345

Stanley looked grave. “I fear much,” said he, “that
some mischance has befallen the good-hearted Esquimau.
He was well armed, you say, ea amply Supp with
provisions ?”

“Ay, most certainly. He took two guns with him,
saying that his wife was as good a shot as himself.”

“The men wish to know where the heavy goods are
to be put,” said Massan, as he opened the door, and
stood, cap in hand, awaiting orders.

Stanley rose to leave the room.

“Tl be with you in a minute, Massan.—Then, Frank,
we'll expect an account of your journey to-night. Eda
is very anxious that we should be told all about your
wonderful adventures in the mountains. Meanwhile I
shall be off to look after the men.” ;

When the sun had set that night, and the song of the
sailors had ceased, and most of the wearied inhabitants
of Fort Chimo were enjoying a fragrant pipe after the
labours of the day, Frank and Stanley seated them-
selves, one on either side of the fire-place, with Mrs.
Stanley and Edith in front of the hearth between them.
An extra pine-knot was thrown on the fire, which, in a
few minutes, rendered the candle on the table unneces-
sary. Stanley lit his pipe, and after drawing one or two
whiffs to make sure that it would keep alight, said,—

“Now, Frank, my boy, we're ready for you; fire
away.”

Frank fired away, literally, for he applied a piece of
glowing charcoal to his pipe, and fired off half-a-dozen
rapid puffs in reply, as it were, to his friend opposite.
Then he began.
CHAPTER XXXIV.

Rough and tumble—A polar bear made useful—Fishing, and floundering, and
narrow escapes—An unexpected discovery, productive of mingled perplexity
and joy.

ff Ny oe remember, I daresay, that the day on which I

left Ungava, last spring, was an unusually fine
one—just such a day, Eda, as those on which you and I
and Chimo were wont to clamber up the berry-glen.
But the clambering that we went through there was
nothing to the work we went through on our third day
from the fort. Maximus and Oolibuck were first-rate
climbers, and we would have got over the ground much
faster than we did but for. the dogs, which could not
travel easily over the rough ground with their loaded
sled. Chimo, indeed, hauled like a hero, and if the
other dogs had been equal to him we would have been
here before to-day. Well, as I said, our third day was
one of considerable toil. Leaving the river we struck
into the mountains, but after nearly breaking our sled
to pieces, and endangering our necks more than once, we
found it necessary to return to the river and follow its
windings into the interior.

“ After many days of as rough travelling as I ever
experienced, we came to the lake district on the height
of land, and travelled for some time more rapidly and
with much greater ease. There were plenty of ptar-
UNGAVA. 347

migan here, so that we saved our provisions—a matter
of importance, as you know, in a country where we
might have found nothing fit for food. One evening,
towards sunset, as we were crossing a large lake, it came
on to snow heavily, and ere long we could not see the
land.

“© What shall we do, Maximus?’ said I; ‘it seems to
me that if we go on we may wander out of our course
and lose much time ere we find it again. Shall we turn
back ?’

“«Better go on, replied Maximus.

“QOolibuck seemed to be of the same opinion, so I
gave my whip a flourish to urge on the dogs, which
were beginning to flag, owing to the difficulty of draw-
ing the sled through the deepening snow. But the two
rear dogs could hardly be prevailed on to move. Even
Chimo was knocked up. In this dilemma Maximus
came to my aid. He hung one of the ptarmigan at his
belt, and letting the dogs smell it walked on before.
The hungry animals brightened up instantly, and went
forward for a considerable distance with alacrity.

“But after trudging on for two or three miles, the
snow fell so thickly that we thought proper to call a
halt and hold another council of war.

“Now; said I, ‘it is my opinion that we should en-
camp on the ice; there is no use in wearying the dogs,
and ourselves in uncertainty ; what think you, lads?’

“Me tink so too,’ said Oolibuck.

“Maximus nodded his head by way of assent, so we
immediately set to work to make our encampment.
You recollect the hut we built on the lake when I was
so badly hurt, and when you were lost, Eda ? Well, we
made a snow-house just like that one; and as we worked
very hard, we had it up and were all snug under its
348 UNGAVA.

shelter in little more than two hours. Meanwhile, the
dogs were fed; and a small piece of wood, that we
fortunately brought with us on the sled, was cut up,
and a fire kindled. But this only served long enough
to boil the kettle; and then it went out, leaving us to eat
our supper in the dark, for by this time the sun had set.
However, we did not mind that much; and when we
had finished, and were stretched out side by side on the
snow, smoking our pipes, while the dogs lay at our feet
and kept us warm, I thought that a palace could not
have been more comfortable than our snow-house.

“ As we had no wood wherewith to make another fire,
and so could not procure water except by the tedious pro-
cess of digging through the ice, I resolved to try an ex-
periment which I had once heard had been attempted
with suecess. This was, to fill a bottle with snow and
take it to bed with me. During the night the heat of
my body melted the snow, and in the morning we had
sufficient water to give us each a draught at breakfast.

“When morning came we found that it was blowing
and drifting so hard that we could not venture to move;
so we made up our minds to remain where we were
until the weather should moderate.

“*« Maximus, said I, after our breakfast of cold boiled
ptarmigan was over, ‘set to work outside and dig a
hole through the ice. I have no doubt we shall find
fish in this lake. If we do, they will form an ex-
cellent addition to our fare. I will prepare the lines
and hooks.’

“ Maximus, whose huge body was stretched out at full
length, while he enjoyed his pipe, rose to obey; but as
he was about to leave the hut Oolibuck said a few
words to him.

“* Please, sir, said Oolibuck, with his usual oily smile,
UNGAVA. 349

‘my countrymen fish in igloe when blow hard. Py’aps
ve make hole here, if you like.’

“«Very good, said I; ‘make the hole where you please,
and look sharp about it, else I shall have my lines pre-
pared before you reach the water.

“The two Esquimaux immediately set to work, and
in less than an hour a hole about six feet deep was
yawning in the middle of our floor. Through this we
set two lines, and our usual luck attended us immediately.
‘We caught five or six excellent white-fish, and one or
two trout, in the first half-hour, so that we were enabled
to give the dogs a capital feed. Moreover, we froze as
many as we could carry along with us for future use ;
but we had not the satisfaction of having a good dinner
of them that day, as we had no wood wherewith to
make fire. You would have been greatly amused had
you peeped in at the ice-window of our igloe that day,
as we sat round the hole in the floor with eager, excited
looks. I confess, however, that I left the work princi-
pally to the two men, who seemed to relish it amazingly.
Maximus was earnest and energetic, as he always is;
but the expression of Oolibuck’s face underwent the
most extraordinary transformations—now beaming with
intense hope, as he felt, or thought he felt a tug ; anon
blazing with excitement, while his body jerked as if a
galvanic shock had assailed it, under the influence of a
decided pull. Then his visage was elongated as the fish
escaped, and was again convulsed by another pull, or
shone in triumph as he hauled the wriggling captive
into the light of day.

“Towards evening the wind fell, and we resumed our
journey. We were not again interrupted by weather
for more than a week after this, but were much per-
plexed by the chains of small lakes into which we came.
350 UNGAVA.

At last we reached Clearwater Lake, and had a long
consultation as to the best course to pursue, because it
was now a question whether we should follow the chain
of lakes by which we came up to Ungava in our canoes,
or make a straight cut for’ the coast, and take our chance
of finding it. While we were yet uncertain what to do,
our course was decided by a polar bear !”

“A polar bear !” cried Edith, in surprise.

“Ay; a polar bear and her cub settled the question
for us, as you shall hear presently,” replied Frank ; “ but
first hand me papa’s tobacco-pouch, please, as my pipe is
exhausted.

“There now,” continued Frank, re-lighting his pipe,
and throwing a fresh log on the fire, “ that’s comfortable.
Well, as I said, we were somewhat perplexed as to what
we should do, when, in wandering about the lake en-
deavouring to find the outlet, I came upon the track of
a polar bear; and by the side of it were little foot-
prints, which showed me that it was a she-bear with her
cub. I observed that the tracks were quite fresh.

“« Now, then, Maximus, said I, pointing to the tracks,
which went to the westward, ‘ there is a sure guide who
will conduct us by the quickest route to the coast.’
I could tell this, Eda, because I knew that the bear had
found food rather scarce in those high regions, and would
descend Clearwater River in order to fish in the open
water at the falls, which are very numerous in that
river. On reaching the coast it would find plenty seals
in the sea. In the meantime I had nothing to do but
follow its track to be conducted by the shortest route
to Clearwater River, the commencement of which was
difficult to find owing to the flatness of the margin of
the lake at thisend. Away we went then, and, as I had
expected, were soon led to the river, down the banks of
UNGAVA. 351

which we scrambled, over rocks and crags, through
bushes and snow, until we came to the coast at Rich-
mond Gulf.

“But it took us many weeks to accomplish the jour-
ney which I have briefly sketched thus far, and when
we reached the coast, worn with hard travel, and our
clothing uncomfortably ragged, the spring was well ad-
vanced—rivers were breaking up, ducks and geese were
passing to the north, and there were thousands of deer,
so that we found ourselves suddenly in the midst of
abundance. Just before reaching the gulf I witnessed
the breaking up of a river, which was one of the
grandest sights I ever saw.

“The river was not a very large one. On reaching it
we were much struck with a curious barrier of ice that
was jammed across it. On examination I saw that the
ice had given way some time before we arrived there,
and an enormous cake, of many yards surface and fully
six feet thick, had, while being hurled along by the
swelling water, caught upon the rugged rocks and been
tilted upon end. Thus it formed a temporary barrier,
against which other masses were forced until the outlet
was completely checked, and the water began to rise
with great rapidity. As we stood on the high cliff,
looking down on the wild ravine in which this was going
on, I heard a loud crack. In another instant the ob-
structing barrier burst like a thunder-clap, and the pent-
up waters leaped with one mighty roar into their accus-
tomed channel! ‘The devastation created was incon-
ceivably grand. Rocks of many tons weight were torn
up, cast like playthings on the rushing ice, and hurled on
the cliffs below, while trees, and ice, and water, swept
down the gorge in a mad whirl, that made my brain reel
as I gazed at it. In an hour the worst of this awful
352 UNGAVA.

scene was over, but the unutterable desolation that was
left will remain for centuries, I believe, to tell of the
mighty rush that happened there.

“Our first experience of Richmond Gulf was not by
any means pleasant. When we arrived it was covered
with ice ; but we did not know, that, although it appeared
to be solid enough, it was in reality little better than
frozen sludge or foam. Oolibuck happened to be walk- .
ing first, with the line of his little sled over his shoulder.
For a short distance we plodded on, intending to cross
the gulf; but I was suddenly aroused from a reverie by
a shout from Maximus. Looking hastily up, I beheld
nothing of Oolibuck except his head above the ice, while
Maximus was trying to pull him out by hauling at the
tail-line of the sled. Luckily Oolibuck had kept fast
hold of the line which was over his shoulder, and after
much trouble we succeeded in dragging him out of the
water. A sharp frost happened to have set in, and be-
fore we got back to the shore the poor fellow’s garments
were frozen so stiff that he could not run.

“¢This isa bad job, Maximus, said I; ‘we must carry
him. Do you lift his head, and Ill take the feet.’

“*Q be queek! I is frizzen up, cried Oolibuck, cast-
ing a rueful look through his tangled locks, which were
a mere mass of icicles!

“Maximus gave a loud chuckle, and before I could
assist him he seized his comrade in his powerful arms,
heaved him over his shoulder like a sack, and ran to-
wards the shore as lightly as if his burden were a child
instead of a big over-fed Esquimau !

“ Arrived at the woods, we wrapped Oolibuck in our
blankets ; then we kindled a fire, and in two hours after
his clothes were dried and himself ready to proceed.
This might have turned out a more serious accident,
UNGAVA. 353

however, and we felt very thankful when we had our
damp companion steaming beside a good fire. The
lesson was not thrown away, for we coasted round
Richmond Gulf instead of attempting to cross it.

“ And now,” continued Frank, stirring the fire and re-
: lighting his pipe, which invariably went out at the in-
teresting parts of his narrative, “now I come to that
part of my story which bears on the fate of Maximus.

« Ags I have said, we had arrived at the coast, and be-
gan to look forward to Moose Fort as the first resting-
place on our journey. By far the greater part of the
journey lay before us, Eda; for, according to my calcu-
lation, I have travelled since last spring a distance of
three thousand miles, nearly a thousand of which have
been performed on foot, upwards of a thousand in boats
and canoes, and a thousand by sea; and in the whole
distance I did not see a civilized spot of ground or a single
road—not so much asa bridle-path. As Bryan’s favourite

song has it—
“Over mountains and rivers
I was pelted to shivers.’

But I’m happy to say I have not, as the same song con-
tinues, ‘met on this land with a wathery grave. I was
very near it once, however, as you shall hear.

“ Well, away we went along the coast of James’s Bay,
much relieved to think that the mountains were now
past, and that our road henceforth, whatever else it
might be, was level. One evening, as we were plodding
wearily along, after a hard day’s march over soft snow
alternated with sandy beach—for the spring was fast
advancing—we came suddenly on a camp of Indians.
At first I thought they must be some of the Moose
Indians, but on inquiry I found that they were a party
of Muskigons, who had wandered all over East Main,

23
354: UNGAVA.

and seemed to be of a roving, unsettled disposition.
However, we determined to encamp along with them for
that night, and get all the information we could out of
them in regard to their hunting-grounds.

“We spent a great part of the night in the leathern
wigwam of the principal chief, who was a sinister-look-
ing old rascal, though I must say he received us hospit-
ably enough, and entertained us with a good deal of
small-talk, after time and the pipe had worn away his
reserve. But I determined to spend part of the night
in the tent of a solitary old woman who had recently
been at Moose Fort, and from whom I hoped to hear
some news of our friends there. You know I have had
always a partiality for miserable old wives, Eda ; which
accounts, perhaps, for my liking for you! This dame
had been named Old Moggy by the people at Moose ;
and she was the most shrivelled, dried up, wrinkled old
body you ever saw. She was testy too; but this was
owing to the neglect she experienced at the hands of her
tribe. She was good-tempered by nature, however; a fact
which became apparent the longer I conversed with her.

“Well, Old Moggy, said I, on entering her tent,
‘what cheer, what cheer ?’

«¢There’s no cheer here, she replied peevishly, in the
Indian tongue.

“Nay, then, said I, ‘don’t be angry, mother ; here’s
a, bit o’ bacey to warm your old heart. But who is this
you have got beside you?’ I asked, on observing a good-
looking young girl, with a melancholy cast of coun-
tenance, seated in a dark corner of the wigwam, as if she
sought concealment. I observed that she was whiter
than Indians usually are, and supposed at first that she
was a half-breed girl; but a second glance convinced me
that she had little if any of the Indian blood in her veins.
UNGAVA. 355

““She is my only friend, said Old Moggy, her dark
eye brightening as she glanced towards the girl. ‘She
was to have been my son’s wife, but the Great Spirit
took my son away. She is all that is left to me now.’

“The old woman’s voice trembled as she spoke the
last few words, and she spread her skinny hands over
the small fire that smouldered in the centre of the floor.

“I was proceeding to make further inquiries into
this girl’s history, when the curtain-door of the tent was
raised and Oolibuck thrust in his shaggy head.

“* Please, sir, de ole chief him wants baccy I have
smoke all mine. Vill you give some ?’

“«Here you are, said I, throwing a lump to the
Esquimau. ‘Send Maximus to me; I want to speak
with him.’

“*T is here, said Maximus, outside the tent.

“Ah! that’s right—Now, Old Mogey, I'll be back
in a few minutes, so don’t go to sleep till I return?

“As I was about to issue from the tent, the young
girl passed me hastily, and, drawing the hood over her
head and face, darted through the opening. I found
Maximus gazing after her in surprise.

“* Hallo, Maximus! what’s wrong? Do you think
the girl’s a witch ?’

““No; but I t’ink she be funny. She look close into
my face, and fly ’way when you come hout o’ tent,’

“«That’s odd. Did you ever see her before ?’

““T not see her yet. She keep face covered up.’

“*Well, come along, it doesn’t signify. I want you
to go with me to the chief’s wigwam, to ask where we
are to put the dogs for the night, and to see about our
own. quarters.’

“Old Mogey’s wigwam stood at the distance of
several hundred yards from the other tents of the
356 UNGAVA.

village, from which it was separated by a belt of stunted
trees and willows. Through this copsewood Maximus
and I took our way, following one of the many beaten
tracks made by the Indians. The night was clear, and
we found no difficulty in picking our steps among the
low shrubs. When we were about half-way through
this wood, I observed a female form gliding among the
bushes. She ran towards Maximus, who walked in
advance and concealed me with his bulky form. But a
slight bend in the road revealed my figure, and the
woman paused, as if uncertain what to do.

«« Surely that is your unknown friend again, said I,
as we both halted. Then I beckoned her to approach.
At first she appeared unwilling to do so; but suddenly
she seemed to change her mind, and walking boldly up
to Maximus, she threw back her hood and stood before
him. I observed that she was Moggy’s young friend,
but a wondrous change had come over her. The pale
cheeks were now covered with a bright blush, and
the sad eyes were sparkling with animation, as she
gazed intently into the face of the Esquimau. For a
few seconds Maximus looked like one thunder-struck.
‘Aneetka!’ he exclaimed vehemently, and, striding
forward with a suppressed cry, clasped the girl in his
arms.

“You may easily conceive my surprise at this scene.
Immediately the recollection of the attack by the
Indians on the Esquimau camp, and of Maximus’s
young bride having been carried off, flashed upon me,
and I had no doubt that the Esquimau girl now stood
before me. Indeed, the fact of the broken exclamations
uttered by the pair being in the Esquimau tongue put this
beyond a doubt. A fecling of great delight filled my
heart as I looked upon the couple thus unexpectedly re-
UNGAVA. 857

united; while they, quite oblivious of my presence,
poured out a flood of question and reply, in the midst
of which they ever and anon embraced, to make sure,
no doubt, of their physical identity. Then it suddenly
oceurred to me that I was behaving very ill, so I
wheeled about and sauntered away to a little distance
in the direction of the shore, in order to take some
astronomical observations of the sky, and gaze inquir-
ingly up at the moon, which at that moment broke
through a bank of clouds, tipping the icebergs on the
sea and the branches of the overhanging trees with
silver light.

“Tn quarter of an hour Maximus came to me and
presented his long-lost bride, Aneetka, whose pretty
face beamed with joy, while her lover's frame appeared
to expand with felicity until he looked like an exag-
gerated Hercules. But we had no time to waste in
talking of the past. The present required our instant
and earnest attention ; so we sat down on the stem of a
fallen tree to consult as to how we were to get Aneetka
out of the hands of her Indian captors. Her brief
history, after she was captured at Ungava, was as
follows :—

“The Indian who had intended to make her his
bride found her resolved rather to die than to marry
him; but hoping that time would overcome her objec-
tion, he placed her under the care of his widowed
mother, Old Moggy, on returning to his village in the
interior. Soon afterwards this Indian was killed by
a brown bear, and the poor mother became a sort of
outcast from the tribe, having no relations to look after
her. She was occasionally assisted, however, by two
youths, who came to sue for the hand of the Esquimau
girl. But Aneetka, true to her first love, would not
358 UNGAVA.

listen to their proposals. One of these lovers was
absent on a hunting expedition at the time we dis-
covered Aneetka; the other, a surly fellow, and disliked
by the most of his comrades, was in the camp. From
the day of her son’s death, a feeling of sympathy had
sprung up between Old Moggy and the Esquimau girl,
and this had gradually strengthened into affection.

“Thus matters stood when we fell in with her.
After much deliberation, it was resolved that I should
go to the old chief and tell him that Old Moggy and
her adopted child wished to quit the tribe and go to
Moose with us, to live there; while Aneetka should go
and acquaint her old protectress with our plans and her
own altered circumstances.

“* Adieu, then, Aneetka, said I, as the girl pushed
her lover away and bounded into the woods.—‘ Now,
Maximus, nothing will do for it but stout hearts and
strong arms. Come along, lad.’

if L found, to my surprise, that the old chief had no
objection to the arrangement I proposed. A few of the
others did not seem inclined to part with their captive ;
but I explained to them the advantage it would be to
them to have friends at court, as it were, and said that
the fur-traders would be glad to support Moggy in her
old age—which was true enough, for you all know as
well as I do that there is not a post in the country
where there are not one or more old or otherwise helpless
Indians supported gratuitously by the Hudson’s Bay
Company. The only man who resolutely opposed the
proposal was Meestagoosh, the rejected lover; but I
silenced him in a novel manner. He was a, tall, power-
ful fellow, of about my own size.

“«Come,’ said I to his assembled comrades, in the
Indian language, for I found they understood my bad
UNGAVA. 359

mixture of Cree and Sauteaux very well— come, friends,
let us deal fairly in this matter. My man there has
taken a fancy to the girl—let Meestagoosh and Maximus
wrestle for her.’

“A loud laugh greeted this proposal, as the Indians
surveyed the huge proportions of my Esquimau.

«“« Well, then, I continued, ‘if Meestagoosh is afraid
of the Esquimau, I have no objections to try him my-
self’ The Indian looked at me with an angry glance,
and seemed, I thought, half inclined to accept the
challenge; so, to cut the matter short, I took him by
the throat and hurled him to the ground—a feat which
was evidently enjoyed by his countrymen.

“ Meestagoosh rose and retired with a savage scowl
on his face, and I saw no more of him. Indeed, I
believe he left the camp immediately.

“ After this no opposition was offered, and I made
the matter sure by distributing a large quantity of
powder, shot, and tobacco to the chiefs. Old Moggy
made no objection to our plan, so we set out the next
day with an additional dog purchased from the Indians
in order to make our team strong enough to haul the
old woman when she got knocked up with walking.
Six days brought us to Moose Fort, just as the ice on
the river was breaking up. Here, as I have already told
you, Maximus and Aneetka were married in due form
by the Wesleyan missionary, after they had received
some instruction and expressed their desire to become
Christians. Then they were supplied with a canoe and
all necessary provisions, and sent off to go round the
coast to Ungava, accompanied by our good dog Chimo,
for whom we had now no further use, and by Old
Moggy, who would not consent to be separated from
her friend Aneetka. They started along the coast on a
360 UNGAVA.

fine spring day, and the back of his sealskin coat, shin-
ing in the sun’s rays like velvet, as the canoe swept out
to sea, and disappeared behind a low point, was the last
that I saw of Maximus.

“T will not weary you just now,” continued Frank,
“with the details of my subsequent journeyings, as,
although full of incidents, nothing of a very thrilling
character occurred except once. At Moose I remained
till the rivers were clear of ice, and then set off into the
interior of the country with a small canoe and five men,
Oolibuck being bowsman. For many days we voyaged
by rivers and lakes, until we arrived at the Michipicoten
River, which is a very rough one, and full of tremendous
falls and rapids. One day, while we were descending
a rapid that rushed through a dark gorge of frowning
rocks, and terminated in a fall, our canoe was broken in
two, and the most of us thrown into the water. We all
swam ashore in safety, with the exception of one man,
who clung to the canoe, poor fellow, and was carried
along with it over the fall) We never saw him more,
although we searched long and carefully for his body.

“We now found ourselves in a very forlorn condition.
We were dripping wet, without the means of making a
fire, and without provisions or blankets, in the midst of
a wild, uninhabited country. However, we did not lose
heart, but set off on foot to follow the river to its mouth,
where we knew we should find relief at Michipicoten
Fort. The few days that followed were the most
miserable I ever passed. We allayed the cravings of
hunger by scraping off the inner bark of the trees, and
by a few of last year’s berries which had been frozen
and so preserved. Once or twice we crossed the river
on rafts of drift-wood, and at night lay down close to
each other under the shelter of a tree or cliff’ At length
UNGAVA. 361

we arrived at the fort on Lake Superior, quite worn out
with fatigue and starvation. Here we waited until
the canoes from Canada passed; and after a somewhat
similar voyage, through woods, rivers, and lakes, arrived
at length, about the beginning of autumn, at York Fort,
on Hudson’s Bay.

“Here I spent some weeks in recalling to memory
and recording on paper the contents of my despatches,
which had been lost, along with our canoe and baggage,
in Michipicoten River; and when these were finished
and delivered, I embarked, along with our outfit of
goods, in the Beaver, and sailed for Ungava. I need
scarcely add that the voyage was a prosperous one, and
that the brightest day in it all was that on which we
found the boat, with our dear little Edith, beset among
the ice near the entrance to Ungava Bay.”

While Frank was thus occupied in narrating the events
of his long journey in the hall of Fort Chimo, Oolibuck
was similarly employed in entertaining the men. After
the day’s toil of unloading the ship was over, he was
placed in the middle of the circle, directly in front of
the blazing fire, by Dick Prince and Massan; while
Moses, Oostesimow, Gaspard, and Ma-istequan, sat on his
right; and Bryan, La Roche, Francois, and Augustus,
supported him on the left—all having pipes in their
mouths, which were more or less blackened by constant
use. A pipe was then handed to Oolibuck, and the order
given, generally by Bryan, “to blaze away.”

This the oily-visaged Esquimau did with right good-
will; and the shouts of laughter which issued from the
house occasionally, as he proceeded with his interminable
narration, proved that the spirit and humour of the
stout voyageur had not been crushed by the trials and
dangers of his long, eventful journey.
CHAPTER XXXV.
A stirring period in the life of Maximus.

NTERMINGLED joy and sorrow is the lot of man!
Thus it has ever been; thus no doubt it shall con-
tinue to be until the present economy shall have reached
its termination. “Shall not the Judge of all the earth
do right ?” is a sufficient reply to those who would fain
have it otherwise. But, independently of this view of
the subject, may we not, with the painter’s eye, regard
joy as the light, sorrow as the shade, in the picture of
life? And who would have a painting all light or all
shadow ?

Maximus found it so in his experience. The shadows
in the picture of his life had of late been broad and
dark, but a flash of vivid brilliancy had crossed it
when he found his bride. Afterwards the light and
shade were chequered, as we shall see.

On leaving Moose, Maximus proceeded a day’s journey
along the coast, and at night, as the weather was fine,
he encamped with his wife and Old Moggy and Chimo
on the open sea-shore. Here he held a consultation as
to their future proceedings. As long as they were on
the shore of James’s Bay they were in danger of being
found by Indians; but once beyond Richmond Gulf
they would be comparatively safe, and in the land of
the Esquimaux. After mature deliberation it was re-
solved that they should travel during the night, and
UNGAVA. 363

rest and cook their food during the day-time, when a
fire would not be so likely to attract attention if kindled
im sequestered places.

This plan answered very well, and they passed
stealthily along the coast when the Indians, if there
were any there, were buried in repose. On approaching
the camp of the tribe, however, from whom Aneetka
had been taken, Maximus deemed it advisable to paddle
far out to sea—the weather being fortunately calm—
and to rest for a day and a night as well as they could
in their frail bark. Maximus sat in the stern of the
canoe and steered ; his wife sat in the bow and paddled
day after day as vigorously as if she had been a man.
As for poor Old Moggy, she sat in the middle and pad-
dled a little when she felt cold; but she slept during
the greater part of the journey. Chimo conceived it
to be his duty to enjoy himself, and did so accordingly,
at all times and in every possible way.

During that livelong day and night, and all the fol-
lowing day, the giant’s arm never flagged; Aneetka,
too, rested only once or twice at the earnest request of
her husband; but the little bark never once slackened
its speed until the second night. Then Old Mogey was
awakened.

“Mother,” said Aneetka, who acted as interpreter
between her husband and the old woman, “we want to
sleep for an hour or two. You seem to have rested
well. Will you wake and watch ?”

The old woman yawned, rubbed her eyes, and as-
sented, after the question had been twice repeated.
Then laying their heads on opposite sides of the canoe,
without otherwise changing their positions, the husband
and wife sank into repose.

Two hours afterwards the old Indian woman, who


364 UNGAVA.

had remained motionless as a dark statue all the time,
uttered a slight sound. Instantly the sleepers awoke,
for those who are in the midst of danger sleep lightly.

“It is time to go on,” said the old woman, as she lay
back again in her lair, rolled herself up into a bundle
and went to sleep.

Maximus and his wife resumed their paddles, and the
light craft glided swiftly on its way to the far north.

As the sun rose they neared the land, and soon after
they were seated not far from a high cliff, eating their
breakfast beside a small fire, which sent so thin a column
of smoke into the air that it was almost dissipated ere it
reached the tree-tops. It was hoped that the Indians
had been now so far overshot that there was no danger
of even a straggler being near them. But they took
the precaution to load their two guns with ball, and lean
them against a tree within reach of their hands. When
the meal was over Maximus retired from the fire a few
paces, and throwing himself at full length on the green
moss beneath a tree, he fell into a sound sleep.

He had not lain thus more than quarter of an hour
when he was startled by the report of a gun, which was
followed by a wild scream and a chorus of unearthly
yells. At the same instant, and ere he could attempt to
rise, his legs and arms were pinioned to the ground by
four powerful Indians. For an instant Maximus was
paralyzed. Then the terrible reality of his position, the
scream of Aneetka, and the sight of the thong with
which his captors were about to bind him, caused his
spirit to rebound with a degree of violence that lent
him for the moment the strength of a giant. With a
shout, in which even a tone of contempt seemed to min-
gle, the Esquimau hurled his captors right and left, and
sprang to his feet. The Indians fled; but one, who was
UNGAVA. 365

a moment later in rising than the others, received a blow
that felled him instantly. Maximus glanced quickly
round in search of his wife, and observed her being
hurried away by two Indians. As the arrow leaps from
the bow the Esquimau sprang forward in pursuit. The
Indians saw him coming. In bitter anger they prepared
to let her go and fly, for having dropped their guns in
the scuffle they were unable to fire upon their approach-
ing foe. But there were other Indians in the bush
whose weapons were levelled at the breast of Maximus,
and the next moment would have been his last but for
a stone thrown from the cliffs above, which struck him
on the forehead, and stretched him bleeding and insens-
ible upon the ground.

When Maximus recovered from the effects of the
blow, he found himself lying on the cold earth in total
darkness, and firmly bound hand and foot. It is im-
possible to describe the agony of that bold spirit as he
lay writhing on the ground, in the vain effort to burst
the cords that bound him. He thought of Ancetka and —
his own utter helplessness, while she was, no doubt, in
urgent need of his strong arm to deliver her. The
thought maddened him, and again he strove in vain to
burst his fetters, and yelled aloud in despair. The echo-
ing rocks gave back his cry, and then all was silence.
The dreadful thought now flashed across him that the
Indians had buried him alive in some dark cavern, and
brave though he was, he trembled in every limb with
agony.

Thus Maximus lay until the gray dawn shone in upon
him, and showed that he was in a cave. Scarcely had
he noted this fact when the figure of a man darkened
the cave’s mouth and approached him. As the Indian
bent over his helpless foe he revealed the savage features
366 UNGAVA.

of Meestagoosh. For an instant he cast a look of min-
gled hatred and triumph on his enemy ; then drawing a
scalping-knife from his girdle, he stooped and cut the
thong that bound his feet, at the same time signing to
him to rise, for he knew that Maximus did not under-
stand Indian. The Esquimau obeyed, and was led by the
Indian through the woods towards the cliff where the
struggle of the previous night had taken place. Here
they came suddenly into view of the Indian camp.

There were no tents: several green blankets that lay
on the moss under the trees indicated where the party
had lain during the night; and at a considerable
distance apart from these sat Old Moggy, with her
face buried in her skinny hands. Beside her stood
Aneetka, with a calm but slightly anxious expression on
her pale countenance. Chimo was held in a leash by an
Indian. From the fact of the Indians being without
tents or women, and having their faces daubed with
red paint, besides being armed with knives, guns, and
tomahawks, Maximus concluded that they composed a
war party.

On seeing her husband, Aneetka uttered a suppressed
cry and bounded towards him; but ere she had pro-
ceeded two paces an Indian laid his hand on her arm,
and led her back to where the old woman sat. Meesta-
goosh led Maximus to the same spot, and having con-
fronted him with his wife, he said to the latter—

“Now, she-bear of the north, translate between us.
If I think you tell lies, the dogs shall have your bones
to pick.”

Aneetka replied meekly, “You cannot hurt one hair
of our heads unless the Great Spirit permit you.”

“We shall see,” retorted the Indian with a scornful
laugh.
UNGAVA. 367

“Tell the polar bear,” continued Meestagoosh in a
contemptuous tone, “that I did not expect to catch him
so soon. I have been fortunate. It was kind of him
to come in my way, and to bring his she-bear with
him. Tell him that I and my braves are going to
pay a visit to his nation, to take a few scalps. I let
him know this piece of good news because he will never
know it from his friends, as he shall be food for dogs
very soon.”

On this being translated, the face of Maximus assumed
an expression of deep gravity mingled with sadness.
His mind flew to the far north, and he thought of the
midnight assault and the death-ery of women and chil-
dren. The nature of the Esquimau was too noble and
generous to be easily ruffled by the contemptuous tone
of such a man as Meestagoosh; but his heart sank
within him when he thought of the power as well as
the will that the Indian had to put his threat in execu-
tion.

“Tell him,” said Maximus quietly, “that I have no
wish to talk with him, but remind him that Indians are
not gods, they are men.”

“Yes, he says truly,” retorted Meestagoosh, “the In-
dians are men, but Esquimaux are dogs.”

While this conversation was going on, and the In-
dians were intent upon the scene, Old Moggy, who was
not deemed worthy of being noticed, contrived unobserved
to possess herself of a knife, and springing suddenly
towards Maximus with an agility of which she seemed
utterly incapable, she endeavoured to cut the thongs
that bound his arms. Her hand was caught, however,
by Meestagoosh, in time to frustrate her intention.
Without deigning a word of remark, the Indian struck
her a heavy blow on the cheek with the back of his
368 UNGAVA.

open hand, which nearly stunned her. Staggering back-
ward, she fell upon the ground with a low wail.

The bosom of Maximus felt as if it would burst with
rage. Before any one could prevent him, he raised his
foot and struck Meestagoosh so violently on the chest
that he fell as if he had been shot. In a moment he re-
covered, drew his knife, and springing like an infuriated
tiger at his enemy, drove it with deadly force at his
throat. Fortunately the arms of Maximus were tied in
front of him, so that by raising them he was enabled to
guard his chest and receive the stab on his wrist. The
knife passed quite through the fleshy part of his left
arm, but in doing so it severed one of the cords that
bound him. Thought is not quicker than the mighty
wrench with which the Esquimau burst the remaining
cord and dashed his opponent to the ground. Before
the astonished Indians could level their guns, Maximus
had seized Aneetka in his arms and was bounding madly
towards the cliff, which was not more than fifty yards
distant. Every gun poured forth its deadly contents
before he gained it; but his very nearness to the Indians
seemed to contribute to his safety, and the suddenness of
his flight rendered their hasty aim uncertain. In another
moment he was round the point and behind the shelter-
ing cliff, while the Indians uttered a terrific yell and
darted forward in pursuit. Just about thirty paces
beyond the point of the cliff that hid him for a few
moments from view was the cave in which Maximus
had spent the night. Quick as thought he sprang up
the steep short ascent that led to its narrow entrance
and darted in.

Scarcely had he placed Aneetka behind a projection
that formed an ample shelter at the mouth of the cave,
when Chimo, who had broken from his captors, also
UNGAVA. 369

darted in and crouched at his master’s feet. Meanwhile
the Indians came sweeping round the point, and seeing
by the entrance of the dog where the fugitives hed
taken shelter, they bounded up the ascent. The first
who reached the cave’s mouth rashly passed the entrance.
Ere he could fire his piece he received a blow from the
fist of the Esquimau that fractured his skull, hurled him
down the steep ascent, and dashed him against his com-
rades in the rear. This sudden repulse effectually checked
the Indians, who are notoriously bad at storming. In-
deed they would never have ventured to enter the cave
in this manner had they not known that Maximus was
totally unarmed.

Withdrawing to a distance of about forty yards, the
Indians now fornia in a line, and loading their guns,
fired volley after volley into the cave’s Bouin, But
Maximus and his wife crouched with the dog behind the
ledge of rock at the entrance, and remained there in
perfect safety. In a few minutes the Indians ceased
firing, and one of their number cautiously approached
the cave, supposing, no doubt, that the fusillade must
have wounded if it had not killed those within; but the
instant he passed the entrance, knife in hand, he was
caught in the powerful arms of Maximus and hurled
down the slope.

A yell of indignation from the Indians followed this
feat, and another volley was fired into the cave, but
without effect; and the savages, seeing that it was
impossible in this way to dislodge their foe, assembled
in a group to consult.

Meanwhile Old Moggy had made good use of the
opportunity thus afforded her to effect her escape. She
darted into the bushes and made for the rocky ground
in the rear of the camp. In doing so she happened to

24
370 UNGAVA.

pass the tree against which leaned the two guns belong-
ing to her friends. They had escaped notice during the
mélée of the previous day, and, with the shot-belts and
powder-horns, remained where they had been placed
when she and her companions landed. The old woman
eagerly seized these, and clambered with them over the
rocks at a rate that would have done credit to more
youthful limbs. On reaching a ridge of rock that over-
looked the cave where Maximus was sheltered, Old
Moggy became aware of how matters stood. She could
also see, from her elevated position, that a track, or the
bed of a dried-up watercourse, led through the bushes
towards the cave. Without a moment’s delay she de-
scended it; but, on drawing near to the cave, she found
that there was a barren spot of about thirty yards in
extent between the place of refuge and the edge of the
bushes. This open space was completely exposed to the
view of the natives, who at that time were firing across
it into the cavern; for, after their consultation, they had
changed their position and renewed the fusillade. Mogey
was now in despair. She knew that it would be im-
possible to pass the open ground without being shot, and
she also felt certain that, when the Indians found their
present attempts were fruitless, they would resort to
others, in prosecuting which they would in all probability
discover her. While she meditated thus, she looked
earnestly towards the cave, and observed the astonished
gaze of Maximus fixed upon her; for, from his position
behind the ledge of rock, he could see the old woman
without exposing himself to the Indians. While they
gazed at each other a thought occurred to Old Moggy.
She made a series of complicated signs, which, after fre-
quent repetition, were understood by Maximus to mean
that he was to expose himself to the view of the Indians.
UNGAVA. 371

Instantly comprehending her meaning, the Esquimau
stepped boldly from his place of concealment and shook
his fist contemptuously in the face of his enemies. A
shower of bullets and a yell of rage followed the act.
This was just what Old Moggy had expected and desired.
Not a gun remained undischarged, and before they could
re-load, she passed quickly over the open ground and
bounded into the cave, where she turned and shook aloft
the two guns with a hoarse laugh of triumph ere she
sought the shelter of the ledge of rock.

The Indians were so filled with fury, at being thus
outwitted by an old woman, that they forgot for a
moment their usual caution, and rushed in a body up
the slope; but ere they had accomplished half the dis-
tance two of their number fell to rise no more. This
was sufficient to check their career. Howling with
baffled rage, and without waiting to pick up their
fallen comrades, they darted right and left to seek
the shelter of the bushes, for they could no longer
remain in the open ground now that their enemies were
armed,

For nearly an hour after this all was silence. Maxi-
mus and his companions could only form conjectures as
to the movements of the Indians, for none of them were
to be seen. However, as they had no resource but to
remain in their retreat until night-fall, they endeavoured
to make the place as comfortable as possible, and busied
themselves in cleaning their arms.

It happened that from the cave’s mouth they could
see their canoe, which still lay on the beach where they
had originally left it; and, while they were looking at
it, they perceived one of the Indians stealing down
towards it. Fortunately Maximus had a gun in his
hand ready loaded, and the instant the Indian appeared
372 UNGAVA.

he fired and shot him. No second Indian dared to
venture towards the little craft, although it lay only a
few yards distant from the edge of the forest; for they
knew that the watchful eye of the Esquimau was upon
them, and that instant death would be the fate of him
who should make the attempt. The little canoe now
became an object of intense interest to both parties.
The Indians knew that if their foe should succeed in
reaching it he could easily escape. This, of course, he
could not hope to do as long as daylight lasted; nor
even when night should arrive, unless it were a very
dark one. But, on the other hand, they knew that
they did not dare to venture near it so long as there
was sufficient light to enable Maximus to take aim at
them with his deadly gun. Both parties, therefore,
remained silent and apparently inactive during the re-
mainder of the day.

But the busy brains both of Indians and Esquimaux
were, during this weary interval, employed in planning
how to circumvent each other. As the shades of night
deepened, each became more watchful. Once only did
Maximus move from his post, in order to go to the
farther end of the cave, where the large powder-horn
had been placed for safety. As he did so, Chimo, who
was tied to a rock, tried to follow him, and on finding
that he was restrained, uttered a loud, mournful howl.
This cry sent a thrill to the heart of Maximus, for it
immediately occurred to him that any attempt to leave
the cave stealthily would instantly be intimated to the
watchful foe by the dog, and to take Chimo with them
was impossible.

“The dog must die,” said Old Moggy, who divined at
once what was passing in the man’s mind.

Maximus shook his head sadly.
UNGAVA. 373

“T cannot kill Chimo,” he said to Aneetka; “he is
Edith’s dog.”

Aneetka made no reply, for she felt the power of her
husband’s objection to injure the dog of his little favour-
ite; yet she could not but perceive that the cry—which
was invariably repeated when any of the party moved
away from the animal—would betray them in the
moment of danger. Nothing further was said for some
time, but Old Mogey, who had no tender reminiscences
or feelings in regard to the dog, proceeded quietly and sig-
nificantly to construct a running-noose on the stout thong
of leather that encircled her waist and served as a sash.

While she was thus engaged the sun’s last rays faded
away and the night began to deepen around them. To
the satisfaction of both parties the sky was draped with
heavy clouds, which gave promise of a night of intense
darkness. This was absolutely essential not only to the
Indians but to Maximus, who had at length formed a
plan by which he hoped to turn the dreaded ery of the
dog to good account, although he had little hope of sav-
ing it from the Indians should he succeed in escaping
with the women. As the night grew darker he began
to put this plan in execution.

Taking his station at the entrance of the cave, he
took a long and steady aim at the bow of the canoe,
which could now be only seen dimly. Having adjusted
the gun to his satisfaction he marked its position exactly
on the rock, so that, when the canoe should be entirely
hid from sight, he could make certain of hitting any
object directly in front of it. Then he ordered Moggy
and his wife to keep moving about the cave, so that the
howling of Chimo should be kept up continually, and
thus not appear unusual when they should really forsake
the cave and attempt their escape. In order tc show
374 UNGAVA.

that he was still on the alert, he shortly after aimed
at the canoe, which was now quite invisible, and fired.
The effect was more startling than had been expected.
A death-cry rent the air and mingled with the rever-
berations of the shot, proving that it had taken deadly
effect on one of the Indians, who, under cover of the
darkness, had ventured to approach the coveted canoe.
A volley was instantly fired in the direction of the cave
from various parts of the bushes, but without effect.

Maximus now kept up a continued fire, sometimes
discharging a succession of rapid shots, ab other times
firing at irregular intervals of from three to ten minutes.
This he did purposely, with a view to his future plans.
In the meantime the dog was made to keep up a con-
tinuous howling.

“Now, Aneetka,” said Maximus, as the ring of his
last shot died away, “go, and may the Great Spirit
guide thee!”

Without a word of reply, the two women glided
noiselessly like shadows into the thick darkness. About
two minutes after they had disappeared, Maximus again
fired several shots, taking care, however, to point con-
siderably to the right of the canoe. Then he ceased for
three minutes, and again fired several shots irregularly.
At the last shot he passed from the cave so silently and
quickly that even Chimo was deceived, and snuffed the
air for a moment ere it renewed its sad wailing. In
less than two minutes the Esquimau had glided, with
the noiseless tread of a panther, to the spot where the
canoe lay. Here he found his wife and the old woman
crouching beside it. The water’s edge was about ten
yards distant. A few seconds would suffice to lift the
light bark in his powerful arms and launch it. Aneetka
and the old woman, who had already received minute
UNGAVA. 375

instructions what to do, had glided quietly into the sea
the instant Maximus touched them; for, as we have
said, it was intensely dark and they could not see a
yard before them. The women now stood up to the
knees in water with their paddles in their hands ready
to embark.

Stooping down, the Esquimau seized the canoe ; but,
just as he was about to lift it, he observed a tall dark
object close to his side.

“Wah!” whispered the Indian, “you are before me.
Quick! the Esquimau dog will fire again.”

The words of the Indian were cut short by the iron
gripe of Maximus on his throat, and the next instant
he was felled by a blow that would have stunned an ox.
So decided and quick was the action that it was not
accompanied by more noise than might have been
caused by the Indian endeavouring to lift the canoe, so
that his comrades were not alarmed. Next moment the
canoe was in the water. But the long silence, which
had now been unbroken for eight or ten minutes, except
by the howling of Chimo in the cave, began to arouse
the suspicion of the red men; and no sooner was this
the case than they glided from the bushes in all direc-
tions with noiseloss tread. In a second or two the body
of their fallen comrade was discovered, and a yell of
fury rent the air (for concealment was now unnecessary),
while they dashed into the water in pursuit. The dark-
ness favoured the fugitives for a few seconds, and en-
abled the women to embark; but just as Maximus was
about to step into his place, Meestagoosh seized him by
the throat !

Maximus was possessed of that ready presence of
mind and prompt energy of character which are so
necessary to a warrior, especially to him who wars with
376 UNGAVA.

the prowling and stealthy savage. Almost in the same
instant he gave the canoe a shove that sent it bounding
out to sea, and raised his hand to catch the invisible
arm which he knew must be descending with the deadly
knife towards his heart. He succeeded so far that,
although he did not arrest it, he turned the blow aside,
receiving only a slight wound on the shoulder. Ere
it could be repeated, he dealt his adversary a blow on
the forehead, and hurled him back insensible into the
water.

The Esquimau immediately glided out into deep
water; and now, for the first time in his life, he felt
keenly the disadvantage of not being able to swim.
This is an art which the inhabitants of the icy seas
have never acquired; owing probably to the shortness
of the season of open water, and the intense cold of the
ice-laden seas, even in summer. The Indians, on the
contrary, who live beside the warm lakes and rivers of
the interior, are many of them pretty expert swimmers.
Thus it happened that Maximus was obliged to stand up
to his neck in the water, not daring to move or utter a
sound, while his friends and foes alike sought in vain
for him in the darkness.

While he stood thus, uncertain how to act, he heard
the water rippling near to him, and distinguished the
hard breathing of a swimmer. Soon he observed a dark
head making straight towards him. A sarcastic smile
played for a moment on the face of the gigantic
Esquimau, as he thought of the ease with which he
should crush his approaching foe; and his hand was
already raised to strike when it was arrested by a low
whine, and the next moment Chimo was endeavouring
to clamber upon his shoulder!

It instantly occurred to Maximus that he might turn
UNGAVA. 377

the dog’s swimming powers to good account. Seizing
Chimo by the flanks with both hands, he turned its
head out to sea, and keeping it in that position, was
dragged into deep water. When he had been thus
conveyed what appeared to be about fifty yards, he
uttered a low cry. He was heard by the Indians as
well as by those in the canoe; but the latter happened
to be nearer to the spot, and a few strokes of the paddles
sent them alongside of their comrade, who quickly caught
the stern of the bark. The women plied their paddles,
the Esquimau gave a shout of triumph, and half im-
mersed in the water, was dragged away from shore. A
yell of anger, and, soon after, a desultory discharge of
fire-arms, told that the Indians had given up the chase.

But it was now a question how Maximus was to be
got into the canoe. The frail bark was so crank that a
much lighter weight than that of the burly Esquimau
would have upset it easily ; and as the stern was sharp,
there was no possibility of climbing over it. This was
a matter of considerable anxiety, for the water was
excessively cold, being laden with ice out at sea. While
in this dilemma, the canoe grated on a rock, and it was
discovered that in the dark they had well-nigh run
against a low cape that jutted far out from the land at
this part of the coast. Here Maximus and the dog
landed, and while the one shook its wet sides, the other
wrung the moisture from his garments; after which
necessary operation he leaped, with his canine friend,
into the canoe, and they pushed well out to sea.

When daylight returned, they were far beyond the
reach of their Indian enemies.
CHAPTER XXXVI.

Happy meetings and joyous feastings—Love, marriage, desertion, desolation, and
conclusion.

FTER the escape narrated in the last chapter, the

stout Esquimau and his companions travelled in

safety ; for they had passed the country of the Indians,
and were now near the lands of their own people.

But if Maximus had not now to fight with men, he
was not exempted from doing fierce battle with the
elements of these inhospitable climes. For hundreds
of miles he travelled along the east coast of Hudson’s
Bay and the southern shores of the Straits, now driven
ashore by the storm, anon interrupted by drift-ice,
and obliged to carry his canoe for miles and miles on
his shoulders, while the faithful Aneetka trudged by his
side, happy as the day was long; for, although her
load was necessarily a heavy one, her love for Maximus
made it rest lighter than the eider-down that floated
from her fingers when she plucked the wild birds for
their evening meal. Moggy, too, waddled along after.
her own fashion, with a resolution and energy that said
much for her strength and constitution. She only carried
the light paddles and a few trifling articles that did not
incommode her much.

During the spring and summer and autumn they pur-
sued their arduous journey, living from hand to mouth
UNGAVA. 879

on the produce of their guns, nets, seal-spears, and fish-
ing-lines, which generally supplied them with enough
for their daily wants, sometimes with abundance, but not
unfrequently with just sufficient to keep them alive.
Three or four times they met with Esquimaux, and
rendered essential service to them, and to the fur-traders,
by telling them of the new fort at Ungava, recounting
the wonders of the store there, and assuring them that
the chief desire of the traders, after getting their furs,
was to do them good, and bring about friendly inter-
course between them and the Indians.

Late in the autumn the three voyageurs drew near to
Ungava Bay, and in passing along the coast opposite to
the island on which Edith had spent the winter, they
overtook Annatock and his whole tribe, with a flotilla of
oomiaks and kayaks, on their way to the same place.
At the mouth of the bay they were joined by the Es-
quimaux of False River, who were carrying supplies
of seal-blubber to the fort for the use of the dogs in
winter, and a few deerskins to trade.

It was a bright and beautiful autumn afternoon (a
rare blessing in that dreary clime) when they passed the
narrows of the river, and came in sight of Fort Chimo.

On that day an unusually successful deer-hunt had
taken place, and the fiddle had, as Bryan expressed it,
been “sarved out” to the men, for the purpose of re-
Joicing their hearts with sweet sounds. On that day a
small band of Indians had arrived with a rich and un-
usually large stock of furs, among which there were one
or two silver foxes and a choice lot of superb martens.
This tended to gladden the heart of Stanley; and truly
he needed such encouragement. At one of the Company’s
inland trading-posts such a bundle of furs would have
been received as a matter of common occurrence ; but it
380 UNGAVA.

was otherwise with the poverty-stricken Ungava, from
which so much had been expected before its dreary,
barren character was known.

On that day, too, a picturesque iceberg had grounded
near the fort at high water, and Frank took Edith in
the small canoe to paddle her among its peaked and
fantastic fragments.

«You will be steersman and sit in the stern, Eda,”
said Frank, as they embarked. “I will stand in the
bow and keep you clear of ice-tongues.”

“How beautiful!” exclaimed the delighted child, as
their light craft glided in and out among the icy pinnacles
which overhung them in some places as they passed.
“Don’t you hear a strange noise, Frank ?”

Truly Frank did hear a strange noise, and beheld a
strange sight, for at that moment the Esquimau flotilla
passed the narrows and swept round the bay ; while the
natives, excited by their unusual numbers and the un-
expected return of Maximus, yelled and screamed and
threw about their arms in a manner that defies de-
scription.

“ There must be strangers among them,” said Frank,
as he paddled towards the shore; “they are too numerous
for our friends of False River.”

“That seems to be an Indian canoe coming on ahead,”
remarked Stanley, who, along with his wife and most of
the men, had hurried to the beach on hearing the shouts
of the approaching multitude.

“Can it be possible?” exclaimed Frank, as the canoe
drew near; “does it not look like Maximus—ch ?”

“Oh! o-o-o-oh! there’s Chimo!” screamed Edith, her
eyes dancing with mingled amazement and delight.

The dog in his anxiety to reach the shore had leaped
into the water; but he had miscalculated his powers of
UNGAVA. 381

swimming, for the canoe instantly darted ahead. How-
ever, he was close on the heels of Maximus.

“ Give him a chare, boys,” cried Bryan, as he ran down
to the beach waving a large hammer round his head.
“ Now thin, hooray !”

The appeal was responded to with heartfelt energy by
the whole party, as their old comrade sprang from the
canoe, and leaving his wife to look after herself, ran to-
ward Stanley and Frank and grasped them warmly by
the hands, while his huge face beamed with emotion.

“J hope that’s your wife you've brought with you,”
Maximus,” said Stanley.

“T can answer for that,’ said Frank; “I know her
pretty face well.”

“Ah! le poor chien,” cried La Roche; “it vill eat
Miss Edith, I ver’ much b’lieve, voila!”

This seemed not unlikely, for the joy manifested by
poor Chimo at the sight of his young mistress was of a
most outrageous character, insomuch that the child was
nearly overturned by the dog’s caresses.

“Musha! what have ye got there, Maximus?” said
Bryan, who had been gazing for some time past in
solemn wonder at the figure of Old Moggy, who, regard-
less of the noise and excitement around her, was quietly
carrying the goods and chattels from the canoe to the
beach. “Shure ye’ve found yer ould grandmother.
She’s the mortial parsonification of my own mother.
Faix if it wasn’t that her proboscis is a taste longer, Pd
swear it was herself.”

At this point Massan stepped forward and took Maxi-
mus by the arm.

“Come along, lad; there’s too much row here for a
comfortable palaver; bring your wife wi you. Ye’ve
run out o’ baccy, now? Of coorse ye have. Come,
382 UNGAVA.

then, to the house; I'll fill yer pipe and pouch, too, boy.—
See after his canoe, La Roche; and bring the old ooman,
Bryan.”

“Mind yer own consarns an’ let yer shupariors
proceed ye,” said Bryan, as he shoved past, and tucking
Old Moggy’s arm within his own, marched off in triumph
to the fort.

Meanwhile, the main body of Esquimaux had landed,
and the noise and confusion on the shore were so great
that scarcely an intelligible sound could be heard. In
the midst of all this, and while yet engaged in caressing
Chimo, Edith felt some one pluck her by the sleeve, and
on looking round she beheld the smiling faces of her
old friends Arnalooa and Okatook. Scarcely had she
bestowed a hearty welcome on them, when she was
startled by an ecstatic yell of treble laughter close to
her ear, and turning quickly round, she beheld the oily
visage of Kaga with the baby—the baby—in her hood,
stark naked, and revelling in mirth as if that emotion
of the mind were its native element—as indeed it was,
if taken in connection with seal-fat.

Searcely had she recovered from her delight at this
meeting, when she was again startled by a terrific shout,
and immediately after Peetoot performed a violent dance
around her, expressive of unutterable joy, and finished
off by suddenly seizing her in his arms, after which he
fled, horrified at his own presumption.

To escape from this scene of confusion the traders
returned to the fort, having directed the Esquimaux to
pitch their camp on the point below; after which they
were to assemble in the yard, for the double purpose of
palavering and receiving a present of tobacco.

That night was spent by the inhabitants of Fort
Chimo in rejoicing. In her own little room Edith
UNGAVA. 383

entertained a select tea-party, composed of Arnalooa,
Okatook, Peetoot, Chimo, and the baby; and really it
would be difficult to say which of them made most
noise or which behaved most obstreperously. Upon
mature consideration we think that Chimo behaved
best ; but that, all things considered, is not saying much
for him. We rather think the baby behaved worst.
Tts oily visage shone again like a lustrous blob of fat,
and its dimples glided about the surface in an endless
game of hide-and-seek! As for Peetoot, he laughed
and yelled until the tears ran over his cheeks, and more
than once, in the excess of his glee, he rubbed noses
with Chimo—a piece of familiarity which that sagacious
animal was at length induced to resent and put a stop to
by a gentle and partial display of two tremendous rows
of white ivory.

In the hall Stanley held a levee that lasted the
greater part of the evening; and in the men’s house a
ball was got up in honour of the giant’s return with his
long-lost Aneetka.

Ah, reader! although the countenances of the men
assembled there were sun-burnt and rough, and their
garments weather-worn and coarse, and their language
and tones unpolished, think not that their hearts were
less tender or sympathetic than the hearts of those who
are nurtured in softer scenes than the wilds of Ungava.
Their laugh was loud and uproarious, it is true, but
there was genuine, heart-felt reality in it. Their sym-
pathy was boisterously expressed, mayhap, if expressed
at all, but it was truly and deeply felt, and many an
unbidden tear glanced from the bronzed cheeks of these
stalwart men of the north, as they shook their gigantic
comrade by the hand and wished him joy, and kissed his
blooming bride.
. 384 UNGAVA.

Aneetka had long since laid aside her native garb,
and wore the more graceful and womanly costume of
the Indian women, and Maximus wore the capote and
leggings of the voyageur. But there were not wanting
gentlemen from the camp at the point whose hairy gar-
ments and hoods, long hair and beards, did honour to
the race of the Esquimaux; and there were present
ladies from the same place, each of whom could a tad
unfold that would have been the admiration and envy of
tadpoles, had any such creatures been there to see them.
They wore boots too, to which, in width at least, those
worn by fishermen are nothing. Some of them carried
babies in their hoods—little naked imps—whose bodies
and heads were dumplings (suet dumplings, we may add,
for the information of the curious),-and whose arms and
legs were sausages.

Bryan was great that night—-he was majestic!
The fiddle all but spoke, and produced a sensation of
dancing in the toes of even those who happened to be
seated. Bryan was great as a linguist, too, and ex-
hibited his powers in this respect with singular felicity
in the vocal entertainment that followed the dancing.
The Esquimau language seemed a mere trifle to him,
and he conversed, while playing the violin, with several
“purty craytures” in their native tongue, with an
amount of volubility quite surprising. Certainly it can-
not be said that those whom he addressed expressed
much intelligence ; but Esquimaux are not usually found
to be quick in their perceptions. Perchance Bryan was
metaphysical !

Mirth, hearty, real mirth reigned at the fort, not only
that day, but for many a day afterwards; for the dangers,
and troubles, and anxieties of the first year were past.
Hope in the future was strong, despite the partial failures
UNGAVA. 885

that had been experienced ; and through the goodness of
God, all those who composed the original band of the
“forlorn hope” were re-united, after many weary months
of travel, danger, and anxiety, during part of which a
dark and dreary cloud (now happily dispelled) had settled
down on Fort Chimo.

Years have rolled away since the song and shout of
the fur-trader first awakened the echoes of Ungava. Its
general aspect is still the same, for there is no change
in the everlasting hills In summer the deer still
wander down the dark ravines and lave their flanks in
the river’s swelling tide, and in winter the frost-smoke
still darkens the air and broods above the open water
of the sea; but Fort Chimo, the joy and wonder of the
Esquimaux and the hope of the fur-trader, is gone, and
a green patch of herbage near the flat rock beside the
spring alone remains to mark, the spot where once it
stood.

In the course of time the changes that took place in
the arrangements of the Fur Company required the
presence of Stanley at another station, and he left
Ungava with his wife and child. The gentleman who
succeeded him was a bold, enterprising Scottish High-
lander, whose experience in the fur trade and energy of
character were a sufficient guarantee that the best and the
utmost would be done for the interests of the Company
in that quarter. But however resolute a man may be,
he cannot make furs of hard rocks, nor convert a scene
of desolation into a source of wealth. Vigorously he
wrought and long he suffered, but at length he was
compelled to advise the abandonment of the station.
The Governor of the Company—a man of extraordinary
energy and success in developing the resources of the

25
386 UNGAVA.

sterile domains over which he ruled—was fain to admit
at last that the trade of Ungava would not pay. The
order to retreat was as prompt and decisive as the com-
mand to advance. A vessel was sent out to remove the
goods, and in a brief space of time Fort Chimo was dis-
mantled and deserted.

The Esquimaux and Indians soon tore down and ap-
propriated to their own use the frames of the buildings,
and such of the materials of the fort as had been left
standing; and the few remnants that were deemed
worthless were finally swept away and every trace of
them obliterated by the howling storms that rage almost
continually around these desolate mountains.

And now, reader, it remains for me to dismiss the
characters who have played their part in this brief tale.
Of most of them, however, I have but little to say, for
they are still alive, scattered far and wide throughout
the vast wilderness of Rupert’s Land, each acting his
busy part in a new scene; for it is frequently the fate of
those who enter this wild and stirring service to be
associated for a brief season under one roof, and then
broken up and scattered over the land, never again to be
re-united.

George Stanley, after a long sojourn in the backwoods,
retired from the service, and, with his family, proceeded
to Canada, where he purchased a small farm. Here
Edith waxed strong and beautiful, and committed ap-
palling havoc among the hearts of the young. men for
thirty miles around her father’s farm. But she favoured
no one, and at the age of seventeen acquired the name of
being the coldest as well as the most beautiful and modest
girl in the far west.

There was a thin young man, with weak limbs and
a, tendency to fall into a desponding state of mind,
UNGAVA. 387

who lived about three miles from Mr. Stanley's farm.
This young man’s feelings had been so often lacerated
by hopes and fears in reference to the fair Edith, that
he mounted his pony one evening in desperation and
galloped away in hot haste to declare his passion, and
realize or blast his hopes for ever. As he approached
the villa, however, he experienced a sensation of empti-
ness about the region of the stomach, and regretted that
he had not taken more food at dinner. Having passed
the garden gate, he dismounted, fastened his pony to a
tree, and struck across the shrubbery towards the house
with trembling steps. As he proceeded, he received a
terrific shock by observing the flutter of a scarf, which
he knew intuitively belonged to Edith. The scarf dis-
appeared within a bower which stood not more than
twenty yards distant from him, close beside the avenue
that led to the house. By taking two steps forward he
could have seen Edith, as she sat in the bower gazing
with a pensive look at the distant prospect of hill and
dale, river and lake, in the midst of which she dwelt,
but the young man could as easily have leaped over
Stanley’s villa, farm and all, as have taken these two
steps. He essayed to do so; but he was rooted to the
ground as firmly as the noble trees under which he
stood. At length, by a great effort, he managed to
crawl—if we may so express it—to within a few yards
of the bower, from which he was now concealed only
by a few bushes; but just as he had screwed up his
soul to the sticking point, and had shut his eyes pre-
paratory to making a rush and flinging himself on his
knees at Edith’s feet, he was struck powerless by the
sound of a deep sigh, and, a moment after, was all but
annihilated by a cough!

Suddenly the sound of horse-hoofs was heard clatter-
388 UNGAVA.

ing up the avenue. On came the rider, as if in urgent
haste. In a few seconds a curve in the avenue brought
him into view. He was a man of handsome and
massive proportions, and bestrode a black charger that
might have carried a heavy dragoon like a feather.
A wheel-barrow had been left across the track, over
which the steed went with an easy yet heavy bound,
betokening well-balanced strength and weight; and a
bright smile lighted up the rider’s bronzed face for an
instant, as his straw-hat blew off in the leap and per-
mitted his curling hair to stream out in the wind. As
he passed the bower at a swinging gallop, an exclamation
of surprise from Edith attracted his attention. The
charger’s hoofs spurned the gravel while he was reined
up so violently that he was thrown on his haunches, and
almost before the thin young man could wink in order
to clear his vision, this slashing cavalier sprang to the
ground and entered the bower.

There was a faint scream, which was instantly
followed by a sound so peculiar that it sent a thrill
of dismay to the cavity in which the heart of the weak
young man had once lodged. Stretching out his hand
he turned aside the branches, and was brought to the
climax of consternation by beholding Edith in the arms
of the tall stranger! Bewildered in the intellect, and
effectually crippled about the knees and ankles, he could
only gaze and listen.

“So you have come—at last !” whispered Edith, while
a brilliant blush overspread her fair cheek.

“OQ Edith!” murmured the stalwart cavalier, in a
deep musical voice, “how my heart has yearned for this
day! How I have longed to hear your sweet and well-
remembered voice! In the desolate solitudes of the far
north I have thought of you. Amid the silent glades

1?
UNGAVA. 389

of the forest, when alone and asleep on my mossy couch
or upon my bed of snow, I have dreamed of you—
dreamed of you as you were, a fair, sweet, happy child,
when we wandered together among the mountains of
Ungava—and dreamed of you as I fancied you must
‘have become, and as I now find you to be. Yes, be-
loved girl, my heart has owned but one image since we
parted, years ago, on the banks of the Caniapuscaw River.
Your letters have been my bosom friends in all my long,
long wanderings through the wilderness; and the hope
of seeing you has gladdened my heart and nerved my
arm. I have heard your sighs in every gentle air that
stirred the trees, and your merry laugh in the rippling
waters. Even in the tempest’s roar and the thundering
cataract I have fancied that I heard you calling for
assistance ; and many a time and oft I have leaped from
my couch to find that I did but dream. But they were
pleasant and very precious dreams to me. O Edith! I
have remembered you, and thought of you, and loved
you, through months and years of banishment! And
now—"

Again was heard the peculiar sound that had thrilled
with dismay the bosom of the weak young man.

“Hallo! whence came this charger?” shouted a hale,
hearty voice, as Stanley walked towards the bower.
“Eh! what have we here?” he exclaimed, rushing for-
ward and seizing the stranger in his arms,—“ Frank—
Frank Morton!”

This was too much. The weak young man suddenly
became strong as Hercules. He turned and fled down
the avenue like a deer. The pony, having managed to
unfasten its bridle, stood in the centre of the way. gazing
down the avenue with its back towards its master. Un-
wonted fire nerved the youth’s limbs; with one bound
390 UNGAVA.

he vaulted leap-frog over the animal’s back into the
saddle, dashed his spurs into its sides, and fled like a
whirlwind from the scene of his despair.

Frank Morton and George Stanley, being both men
of promptitude and decision, resolved that one month
was long enough to make preparations for the marriage ;
and Edith, being the most dutiful daughter that ever
lived, did what she was bid.

That beautiful cottage which stands in the midst of
most exquisite scenery, about two miles from Stanley’s
villa, is inhabited by Frank Morton and his family.
That crow which you have just heard proceed from the
nursery was uttered by the youngest of five; and yonder
little boy with broad shoulders, who thrusts his hands into
his pockets in a decided manner, and whistles vociferously
as he swaggers down the avenue, is Master George F.
Morton, on his way to school.

La Roche and Bryan were so fortunate as to be ap-
pointed to the same establishment after leaving Ungava
—somewhere near the mouth of the Mackenzie River,
and within the region of all but perpetual frost and
snow. They are sometimes visited by -Esquimaux,
which is fortunate; for, as Bryan says, “it guves him
an opportunity o’ studyin’ the peecoolier dialects o’ their
lingo.”

Dick Prince was the only one who lost his life in
the “forlorn-hope.” He was drowned while out shoot-
ing in the bay alone in his canoe. A sudden storm
upset his frail bark and left him struggling in the
water. Prince was a strong swimmer, and he battled
long for his life; but the ice-laden sea benumbed his
hardy limbs, and he sank at last, without a ery, to
rise no more. He was a noble specimen of his class—
a brave, modest, unobtrusive son of the forest, beloved
UNGAVA. 391

and respected by his companions; and when his warm
heart ceased to beat, it was felt by all that a bright star
of the wilderness had been quenched for ever. His body
was found next day on the beach, and was interred by
his mourning comrades in a little spot of ground behind
the fort. It was many a long day after this melancholy
event ere Massan could smile; and when the fort was
finally deserted, he put in practice his long-meditated
intention of becoming a hunter and taking to the Rocky
Mountains, where he wanders now, if he has escaped the
claws of the dreaded grizzly bear and the scalping-knife
of the Red Indian.

Moses, finding the life of a fur-trader not quite to
his taste, rejoined his countrymen, and reverted to
killing seals and eating raw blubber. The two In-
dians also returned to a purely savage life, which, in-
deed, they had only forsaken for a time. Augustus and
Oolibuck died; and the iatter left a son, who has already
rendered good service as interpreter to the arctic expe-
ditions, as his worthy father did before him. Frangois
and Gaspard are still together at one of the posts of the
interior. They are now fast friends, and have many a
tall over the days when they quarrelled and messed to-
gether at Fort Chimo.

As for the poor Esquimaux, they were for a time
quite inconsolable at the departure of the fur-traders, and
with a species of child-like simplicity, hung about the
bay, in the hope that they might, after all, return.
Then they went off in a body to the westward, and the
region of Ungava, to which they had never been partial,
was left in its original dreary solitude. It may be that
some good had been done to t: -suls of these poor
natives during their brief intercourse with the traders.
We cannot tell, and we refrain from guessing or specu-
392 UNGAVA.

lating on a subject so serious. But of this we are
assured—if one grain of the good seed has been sown, it
may long lie dormant, but it cannot die.

Maximus accompanied his countrymen, along with
Aneetka and Old Mogey, who soon assumed the native
costume, and completely identified herself with the
Esquimaux. Maximus was now a great man among
his people, who regarded with deep respect the man
who had travelled through the lands of the Indians,
had fought with the red men single-handed, and had
visited the fur-traders of the south. But the travelled
EKsquimau was in reality a greater man than his fellows
supposed him to be. He fully appreciated the advan-
tages to be derived from a trading-post near their ice-
girt lands, and resolved, when opportunity should offer,
to do all in his power to strengthen the friendship now
subsisting between the Indians and the Esquimaux of
Ungava, and to induce his countrymen, if possible, to
travel south towards the establishment on James’s Bay.

He still retains, however, a lingering affection for
the spot where he had spent so many happy days, and
at least once a-year he undertakes a solitary journey to
the rugged mountains that encircled Fort Chimo. As
in days of yore, with wallet on shoulder and seal-spear
in hand, the giant strides from rock to rock along the
now silent banks of the Caniapuscaw River. Once again
he seats himself on the flat rock beside the spring, and
gazes round in sadness on those wild, majestic hills, or
bends his eye upon the bright green spot that indicates
the ancient site of the trading-post, not a vestige of
which is now visible, save the little wooden cross that
marks the lonely ¢.. . of Dick Prince; and the broad
chest of the giant heaves with emotion as he views these
records of the past, and calls to mind the merry shouts
UNGAVA. 393

and joyous songs that used to gladden that dreary spot,
the warm hearth at which he was wont to find a hearty
welcome, and the kind comrades who are now gone for
ever. Ungava spreads, in all its dark sterility, around
him, as it did in the days before the traders landed
there; and that bright interval of busy life, in which
he had acted so prominent a part, seems now but the
fleeting fancy of a bright and pleasant dream.

THE END.
Our Boys’ Select Library.

Stories of Adventure, Travel, and Discovery.

Post 8vo, cloth extra, uniform binding. Price 2s. 6d. each.

Beyond the Himalayas.
for Boys. By Joun Grppin.
F.R.G.S., Author of ‘‘The Lake
Regions of Central Africa,” ete.
With 9 Engravings.

The Castaways.
venture in the Wilds of Borneo.
By Captain Maynz Rez.

Frank Redcliffe. A Story of Tra-
vel and Adventure in the Forests
of Venezuela. A Book for Boys.
By Acuittes Daunz, Author of
“The Three Trappers,” etc.
With numerous Illustrations.

In the Land of the Moose, the
Bear, and the Beaver. Adven-
tures in the Forests of the Atha-
basea. By Acurtttes Daun,
Author of “‘The Three Trappers.”
With Illustrations.

In the Bush and on the Trail.
Adventures in the Forests of
North America. A Book for
Boys. By M. Benepicr Revotrt.
With 70 Illustrations.

The Lake Regions of Central
Africa. A Record of Modern
Discovery. By Joun GrEppIz,
F.R.G.S. With 32 Illustrations.

Lost in the Backwoods. A Tale
of the Canadian Forest. By Mrs.
TRAILL, Author of ‘‘In the For-
est,” etc. With 32 Engravings.

A Book | The Meadows Family ; or, Fire-

side Stories of Adventure and
Enterprise. By M. A. Pavtt,
Author of ‘‘ Tim’s Troubles,” etc.
With Illustrations.

The Three Trappers. A Book for
Boys. By Acuittzes Davyt,
Author of “In the Land of the
Moose, the Bear, and the Beaver.”
With 11 Engravings.

Wrecked on a Reef ; or, Twenty
Months in the Auckland Isles.
A True Story of Shipwreck, Ad-
venture, and Suffering. With 40
IUustrations.

Ralph’s Year in Russia. A Story
of Travel and Adventure in East-
ern Europe. By Rozert Ricu-
ARpDson, Author of ‘“ Almost a
Hero,” etc. With 8 Engrav-
ings.

Scenes with the Hunter and the
Trapper in Many Lands. Stories

of Adventures with Wild Ani-
mals. With Engravings.

The Forest, the Jungle, and the
Prairie; or, Tales of Adventure
and Enterprise in Pursuit of Wild
Animals. With numerous En-
gravings.

The Island Home; or, The Young
Castaways. A Story of Adven-
ture in the Southern Seas. With
Illustrations.

T. NELSON AND SONS, LONDON, EDINBURGH, AND NEW YORK.
W. H. G. Kingston’s Books for Boys.



In the Eastern Seas; or, The
Regions of the Bird of Paradise.

A Tale for Boys. With 111
Illustrations. Crown 8vo, gilt
edges. Price 5s.

A tale of voyage and adventure among
the islands of the Malay Archipelago,
with descriptions of scenery and objects
of natural history.

In the Wilds of Africa. With
upwards of 70 Illustrations.
Crown 8vo, gilt edges. Price 5s.

An interesting account of adventures
by @ shipwrecked party who are landed
on the west coast of Africa, and make
their way to the south through many
dangers.

On the Banks of the Amazon; or,
A Boy’s Journal of his Adventures
in the Tropical Wilds of South
America. Profusely Illustrated.
Crown 8vo, gilt edges. Price 5s.

In the course of the narrative some of
the numberless animals, as well as a few
of the most interesting of the vegetable
productions, of the Amazonian Valley
are described.

Saved from the Sea; or, The Loss
of the Viper, and the Adventures
of her Crew in the Great Sahara.
With 30 Full-page Engravings.
Crown 8vo, gilt edges. Price 5s.

A young sailor's account of his own
adventures, along with three shipwrecked
comrades.

The South Sea Whaler. A Story
of the Loss of the Champion, and
the Adventures of her Crew.
With upwards of 30 Engravings.
Crown 8vo, gilt edges. Price 5s.

A tale of mutiny and shipwreck in the
South Seas, the captain having his son
and daughter on board with him.

In the Wilds of Florida.
37 Engravings.
edges. Price 5s.

A tale of warfare and hunting.

With
Crown 8vo, gilt

The Young Llanero.





Twice Lost. With 36 Engray-
ings. Crown 8vo, gilt edges. 5s.
A young sailor’s story of shipwreck,
and perilous adventures in the wilds of
Australia.

A Voyage Round the World.
A Tale for Boys. With 42 En-
gravings. Crown 8vo, gilt edges,
Price 5s.

A young sailor's account of his own
adventures by sea and land, the scenes
being laid chiefly in South America, the
South Sea Islands, and Japan.

Old Jack. A Sea Tale. With
66 Engravings. Crown 8vo, gilt
edges. Price 5s.

An old sailor's account of his own ad-
ventures, during times of peace and of
war, in many parts of the world.

The Wanderers; or, Adventures

in the Wilds of Trinidad and up
the Orinoco. With 30 Full-page
Engravings. Crown 8vo, gilt
edges. Price 5s.

A Pennsylvanian merchant sets out

with his family to South America, and
meets with many adventures by sea and
land, which are related by his son.
A Story of
War and Wild Life in Venezuela.
With 44 Engravings. Crown
8vo, gilt edges. Price 5s.

A thrilling and fascinating narrative
of adventures in South America.

The Young Rajah. A Story of

Indian Life and Adventure. With
upwards of 40 Full-page Engrav-
ings. Crown 8vo, gilt edges. 5s.

A story of the Indian Mutiny; the
hero @ young Indian prince, who had
received an English education and be-
come a Christian.

My First Voyage to Southern

Seas. With 52 Engravings.
Crown 8vo, gilt edges. Price 5s.

A young sailor's story, describing Cape
Colony, Ceylon, Aden, ete.

* * Also to be had in uniform cloth binding as ‘‘ The Kingston

Library for Boys.”

Price 4s. per volume.

T., NELSON AND SONS, LONDON, EDINBURGH, AND NEW YORK.
Travel and Adventure.



Jack Hooper. His Adventures at
Sea and in South Africa. By
Verney Lovetr Cameron, C.B.,
D.C.L., Commander Royal Navy;
Author of ‘‘ Across Africa,” ete.
With 23 Full-page Illustrations.
Price 4s., or with gilt edges, 5s.

“Our author has the immense advan-
tage over many writers of boys’ stories
that he describes what he has seen, and
does not merely draw on his imagination
and on books.” —ScorsMan.

With Pack and Rifle in the Far
South-West. Adventures in
New Mexico, Arizona, and
Central America. By ACHILLES
Daunt, Author of “Frank Red-
cliffe,” etc. With 30 Illustra-
tions. 4s., or- with gilt edges, 5s.

A delightful book of travel and adven-
ture, with much valuable information as
to the geography and natural history of
the wild American “‘ Far West.”

In Savage Africa; or, The Ad-
ventures of Frank Baldwin from
the Gold Coast to Zanzibar. By
Verney Loverr Cameron, C.B.,
D.C.L., Commander Royal Navy ;
Author of ‘Jack Hooper,” ete.
With 32 Illustrations. Crown
8vo, cloth extra, gilt edges. Price
4s., or with gilt edges, 5s.

Early English Voyagers ; or, The
Adventures and Discoveries of
Drake, Cavendish, and Dampier.
Numerous Illustrations. Price
4s., or with gilt edges, 5s.

The title of this work describes the con-
tents. It is a handsome volume, which
will be a valuable gift for young persons
generally, and boys in particular. There
are included many interesting illustra-
tions and portraits of the three great
voyagers.

Sandford and Merton. A Book
for the Young. By'THomas Day.
Illustrated. Post 8vo, cloth ex-
tra. Price 2s. 6d.





Our Sea-Coast Heroes; or, Tales
of Wreck and of Rescue by the
Lifeboat and Rocket. By AcHIL-
Les Daunt, Author of ‘‘ Frank
Redcliffe,” etc. With numerous
Illustrations. Price Qs. 6d.

Robinson Crusoe. The Life and
Strange Adventures of Robinson
Crusoe, of York, Mariner. Writ-
ten by Himself. Carefully Re-
printed from the Original Edition.
With Memoir of De Foe, a Me-
moir of Alexander Selkirk, and
other interesting additions. II-
lustrated with upwardsof Seventy
Engravings by Kerrey Hats-