"Decidedly neat!" exclaimed Capt. Mazard, surveying it with a grin of self-approbation.

"What say to that, Trull?" cried Raed.

The old man-of-war's-man had been watching the progress of the invention with an occasional tug at his waistband.

"Yes; how's that in your eye?" exclaimed the captain. "You're a military character. Give us an opinion on that."

"Wal, sur," cocking his eye at it, "I'm free to confass I naver saw anything like it;" and that was all we could get out of him.

"Bring some ammunition, and let's give it a trial," said Kit.

I brought up the powder-flask, caps, and a couple of bullets. The bullets we had run for it were of lead, about an inch in diameter, and weighed not far from six ounces apiece. The breech was depressed. Raed poured in half a gill of the fine powder by measurement; a wad of paper was rammed down; then a bullet was driven home. There only remained to prime and cap it.

"Fire at one of these seals," suggested Wade, pointing to where a group of three or four lay basking on an ice-cake at a distance of eight or ten hundred yards.

"Who'll take the first shot?" said Kit.

Nobody seemed inclined to seize the honor.

"Come, now, that seal's getting impatient!" cried the captain.

Still no one volunteered to shoot off the big rifle.

"I think Wash had better fire the first shot," remarked Raed. "The honor clearly belongs to him."

Seeing they were a little disposed to rally me on it, I stepped up and cocked it. At that everybody hastily stood back. I took as good aim as the motion of the schooner would permit; though I think I should have done better had not Palmleaf just at that moment sang out, "Dinner, sar!" from behind. I pulled the trigger, however. There was a stunning crack; and so smart a recoil, that I was pushed half round sidewise with amazing spitefulness. The old chest rolled back, whirled round, and upset against the bulwarks on the other side. The reader can imagine what a rattle and racket it made.

"Golly!" exclaimed Palmleaf. "Am crazy!"

"Did it hit the seal?" recovering my equilibrium.

Wade was the only one who had watched the seal.

"I saw him flop off into the water," said he.

"Then of course it hit him," said I.

Nobody disputed it; though I detected an odious wink between the captain and Kit.

The prostrate gun was got up on its legs again; old Trull remarking that we had better trig it behind before we fired, in future: that duty attended to, he thought it might work very well.

We then went to dinner. How to mount the howitzer was the next question.

"We need a regular four-wheeled gun-carriage for that," said Raed.

"I think we can make one out of those planks," remarked Kit.

"The worst trouble will come with the wheels," said Wade.

But Capt. Mazard thought he could saw them out of sections of fifteen-inch plank with the wood-saw.

"I'll undertake that for my part," he added, and, as soon as dinner was over, went about it.

"Now we'll get old man Trull to help us on the body," said Kit.

The planks, with axe, adz, auger, and hammer, were carried on deck. Our old man-of-war's man readily lent a hand; and with his advice, particularly in regard to the cheeks for the trunnions, we succeeded during the afternoon in getting up a rough imitation of the old-fashioned gun-carriage in use on our wooden war-vessels. The captain made the wheels and axles. The body was then spiked to them, and the howitzer lifted up and set on the carriage. By way of testing it, we then charged the piece with half a pint of powder, and fired it. The sharp, brassy report was reverberated from the dark mountains on the starboard side in a wonderfully distinct echo. Hundreds of seals dropped off the ice-cakes into the sea all about,—a fact I observed with some mortification. As the guns would have to remain on deck, exposed to fog and rain, we stopped the muzzles with plugs, and covered them with two of our rubber blankets. They were then lashed fast, and left for time of need.

During the day, we had gradually come up with what we at first had taken for a cape or a promontory from the mainland, but which, by five o'clock, P.M., was discovered to be a group of mountainous islands, the same known on the chart as the "Lower Savage Isles." The course was changed five points, to pass them to the southward. By seven o'clock we were off abreast one of the largest of them. It was our intention to stand on this course during the night. The day had at no time, however, been exactly fair. Foggy clouds had hung about the sun; and now a mist began to rise from the water, much as it had done the previous evening.

"If I thought there might be any tolerable safe anchorage among those islands," muttered the captain, with his glass to his eye, "I should rather beat in there than take the risk of running on to another iceberg in the fog."

This sentiment was unanimous.

"There seems to be a clear channel between this nearest island and the next," remarked Raed, who had been looking attentively for some moments. "We could but bear up there, and see what it looks like."

The helm was set a-port, and the sails swung round to take the wind, which, for the last hour, had been shifting to the south-east. In half an hour we were up in the mouth of the channel. It was a rather narrow opening, not more than thirty-five or forty rods in width, with considerable ice floating about. We were in some doubt as to its safety. The schooner was hove to, and the lead thrown.

"Forty-seven fathoms!"

"All right! Bring her round!"

The wind was light, or we should hardly have made into an unknown passage with so much sail on: as it was, we did but drift lazily in. On each side, the islands presented black, bare, flinty crags, distant scarcely a pistol shot from the deck. A quarter of a mile in, we sounded a second time, and had forty-three fathoms.

"Never saw a deeper gut for its width!" exclaimed Capt. Mazard. "What a chasm there would be here were the sea out of it!"

Half a mile farther up, a third and smaller island lay at the head of the channel, which was thus divided by it into two narrow arms,—one leading out to the north-east, the other to the north-west. This latter arm was clear of ice, showing a dark line of water crooking off among numerous small islets; but the arm opening up to the north-east was jammed with ice. "The Curlew" went in leisurely to three hundred yards of the foot of the island, where we found thirty-three fathoms, and hove to within a hundred yards of the ledges of the island on the east side. The anchor was now let go, and the sails furled.

"We're snug enough here from anything from the north-east or north," remarked Capt. Mazard; "and even a sou'-wester would hardly affect us much a mile up this narrow inlet."

It seemed a tolerably secure berth. The schooner lay as still as if at her wharf at far-distant Portland. There was no perceptible swell in the channel. Despite the vast mass of ice "packed" into the arm above us, it was not disagreeably chilly. The thermometer stood at fifty-nine degrees in our cabin. Indeed, were it not for the great bodies of ice, these extreme northern summers, where the sun hardly sets for months, would get insufferably hot,—too hot to be endured by man.

The mist steamed silently up, up. Gradually the islands, the crags, and even objects at the schooner's length, grew indistinct, and dimmed out entirely by half-past ten. We heard the "honk, honk," of numerous wild-geese from the islands; and, high overhead, the melancholy screams of "boatswains." Otherwise all was quiet. The watch was arranged among the sailors, and we went to bed. For the last sixty hours we had had not over seven hours of sleep. Now was a good time to make up. Profound breathing soon resounded along the whole line of mattresses.

We had been asleep two or three hours, when a shake aroused me. A strange, reddish glare filled the cabin. Donovan was standing at my head.

"What's up?" I asked. "Fire? It isn't fire, is it?" jumping up.

"No, it's not fire," replied Donovan.

"Oh! morning, then," I said, greatly relieved.

"No; can't be. It's only one o'clock."

"Then what is it, for pity sake?" I demanded in fresh wonder.

"Don't know, sir. Thought I'd just speak to you. Perhaps you'll know what it is. Won't you go up. It's a queer sight on deck."

"Of course I will. Go ahead. No matter about waking the others just yet, though."

The cold mist struck in my face on emerging from the companion-way. It was still very foggy and damp. Such a scene! The sky was of a deep rose-color. The thick fog seemed like a sea of magenta. The deck, the bulwarks, the masts, and even Donovan, standing beside me, looked as if baptized in blood. It was as light as, even lighter than, when we had gone below. The cliffs on the island, drear and black by daylight, showed like mountains of red beef through the crimson fog.

"It was my watch," said Donovan. "I was all alone here. Thought I would just speak to you. Come on quite sudden. I didn't know just what to make of it."

"No wonder you didn't."

"I knew it couldn't be morning," he went on. "There must be a great fire somewhere round: don't you think so, sir?"

I was trying to think. Queer sensations came over me. I looked at my watch. It was four minutes past one. Donovan was right: it couldn't be morning. A sudden thought struck me.

"It's the northern lights, Donovan!" I exclaimed.

"So red as this?"

"Yes: it's the fog."

"Do you really think so?" with a relieved breath.

"There's no doubt of it."

"But it makes a funny noise."

"Noise?"

"Yes: I heard it several times before I called you. Hark! There!"

A soft, rushing sound, which was neither the wind (for there was none), nor the waves, nor the touch of ice, could be heard at brief intervals. It seemed far aloft. I am at a loss how to describe it best. It was not unlike the faint rustle of silk, and still more like the flapping of a large flag in a moderate gale of wind. Occasionally there would be a soft snap, which was much like the snapping of a flag. I take the more pains to state this fact explicitly, because I am aware that the statement that the auroral phenomena are accompanied by audible sounds has been disputed by many writers. I have only to add, that, if they could not have heard the "rustlings" from the deck of "The Curlew" that night, they must have been lamentably deaf.

The light wavered visibly, brightening and waning with marvellous swiftness.

"Shall we call the other young gentlemen?" Donovan asked.

"Yes; but don't tell them what it is. See what they will think of it."

In a few moments Kit and Wade and Raed were coming out of the companion-way, rubbing their eyes in great bewilderment. They were followed by the captain.

"Heavens!" he exclaimed. "Is the ship on fire?"

"Fire!" cried Wade excitedly, catching at the last word: "did you say fire?"

"No, no!" exclaimed Kit. "It's nothing—nothing—but daybreak!"

"It's only one o'clock," said Donovan, willing to keep them in doubt.

Capt. Mazard was rushing about, looking over the bulwarks.

"There's no fire," said he, "unless it's up in the sky. But, by Jove! if you aren't a red-looking set!—redder than lobsters!"

"Not redder than yerself, cap'n," laughed Donovan, who greatly enjoyed their mystification.

"The sea is like blood!" exclaimed Wade. "You don't suppose the day of judgment has come and caught us away up here in Hudson's Straits, do you?"

"Not quite so bad as that, I guess," said Raed. "I have it: it's the aurora borealis; nothing worse, nor more dangerous."

I had expected Raed would come to it as soon as he had got his eyes open.

"A red aurora!" said the captain. "Is that the way you explain it?"

"Not a red aurora exactly," returned Raed, "but an aurora shining down through the thick fog. The aurora itself is miles above the fog, up in the sky and probably of the same bright yellow as usual; but the dense mist gives it this red hue."

"I've heard that the northern lights were caused by electricity," said Weymouth. "Is that so?"

"It is thought to be electricity passing through the air high up from the earth," replied Raed. "That's what the scientific men tell us."

"They can tell us that, and we shall be just as wise as we were before," said Kit. "They can't tell us what electricity is."

"Why!" exclaimed the captain, "I thought electricity was"—

"Well, what?" said Kit, laughing.

"Why, the—the stuff they telegraph with," finished the captain a little confusedly.

"Well, what's that?" persisted Kit.

"What is it?" repeated the captain confidently. "Why, it is—well—Hang it! I don't know!"

We all burst out laughing: the captain himself laughed,—his case was so very nearly like everybody's who undertakes to talk about the wondrous, subtle element. By the by, his definition of it—viz., that it is "the stuff we telegraph with"—strikes me as being about the best one I ever heard. Kit and Raed, however, have got a theory,—which they expound very gravely,—to the effect that electricity and the luminiferous ether—that thin medium through which light is propagated from the sun, and which pervades all matter—are one and the same thing; which, of course, is all very fine as a theory, and will be finer when they can give the proof of it.

After watching the aurora for some minutes longer, during which it kept waxing and waning with alternate pale-crimson and blood-red flushes, we went back to our bunks; whence we were only aroused by Palmleaf calling us to breakfast.

If there was any wind that morning it must have been from the east, when the crags of the island under which we lay would have interrupted it. Not a breath reached the deck of "The Curlew;" and we were thus obliged to remain at our anchorage, which, in compliment to the captain, and after the custom of navigators, we named Mazard's Bay. As the inlet bore no name, and was not even indicated on the charts we had with us, we felt at liberty to thus designate it, leaving to future explorers the privilege of rechristening it at their pleasure.

"We shall have a lazy morning of it," Kit remarked, as we stood loitering about the deck.

"I propose that we let down the boat, and go ashore on the island," said Wade. "'Twould seem good to set foot on something firm once more."

"Well, those ledges look firm enough," replied Raed. "See here, captain: here's a chap begging to get ashore. Is it safe to trust him off the ship?"

"Hardly," laughed Capt. Mazard. "He might desert."

"Then I move we all go with him," said Kit. "Let's take some of those muskets along too. May get a shot at those wild-geese we heard last evening."

The boat was lowered. We boys and the captain, with Donovan and Hobbs to row us, got over the rail, and paddled to where a broad jetting ledge formed a natural quay, on which we leaped. The rock was worn smooth by the waves of centuries. To let the sailors go ashore with us, we drew up the boat on the rock several feet, and made it fast with a line knotted into a crevice between two fragments of flinty sienite rock at the foot of the crags. We then, with considerable difficulty and mutual "boosting," clambered up to the top of the cliffs, thirty or forty feet above the boat, and thence made our way up to the summit of a bald peak half a mile from the shore, which promised a good prospect of the surrounding islands. It is hardly possible to give an idea of the desolate aspect of these ledgy islets. There was absolutely no soil, no earth, on them. More than half the surface was bare as black sienite could be. Huge leathery lichens hung to the rocks in patches; and so tough were they, that one might pull on them with his whole strength without tearing them. In the crevices and tiny ravines between the ledges, there were vast beds of damp moss. In crossing these we went knee-deep, and once waist-deep, into it. The only plant I saw was a trailing shrublet, sometimes seen on high mountains in New England, and known to botanists as Andromeda of the heathworts. It had pretty blue-purple flowers, and was growing quite plentifully in sheltered nooks. Not a bird nor an animal was to be seen. Half an hour's climbing took us to the brown, weather-beaten summit of the peak. From this point eleven small islands were in sight, none of them more than a few miles in extent; and, at a distance of seven or eight leagues, the high mountains of the northern main, their tops white with snow, with glittering glaciers extending down the valleys,—the source of icebergs. There was a strong current of air across the crest of the peak. Sweeping down from the wintry mountains, it made us shiver. The sea was shimmering in the sun, and lay in silvery threads amid the brown isles. Below us, and almost at our feet, was the schooner,—our sole connecting link with the world of men,—her cheery pine-colored deck just visible over the shore cliffs. Suddenly, as we gazed, she swung off, showing her bow; and we saw the sailors jumping about the windlass.

"What does that mean?" exclaimed Capt. Mazard. "Possible they've got such a breeze as that down there? Why, it doesn't blow enough here to swing the vessel round like that!"

"But only look down the inlet!" said Donovan. "How wild it seems! See those lines of foam! Hark!"

A rushing noise as of some great river foaming among bowlders began to be heard.

"It's the tide coming in!" shouted the captain, starting to run down the rocks.

The schooner had swung back and round the other way. What we had read of the high and violent tides in these straits flashed into my mind.

The captain was making a bee-line for the vessel: the rest of us followed as fast as we could run. Just what good we any of us expected to be able to do was not very clear. But "The Curlew" was our all: we couldn't see it endangered without rushing to the rescue. Panting, we arrived on the ledges overlooking the boat and the schooner. The tide had already risen ten or a dozen feet. The boat had floated up from the rock, and broken loose from the line. We could see it tossing and whirling half way out to the schooner. The whole inlet boiled like a pot, and roared like a mill-race. Huge eddies as large as a ten-pail kettle came whirling in under the cliffs. The whole bay was filling up. The waters crept rapidly up the rocks. But our eyes were riveted on the schooner. She rocked; she wriggled like a weather-cock; then swung clean round her anchor.

"If it will only hold her!" groaned Capt. Mazard. "But, if it drags, she'll strike!"

Old Trull, Weymouth, and Bonney were at the windlass, easing out the cable as the vessel rose on the tide. Corliss was at the wheel, tugging and turning,—to what purpose was not very evident. But they were doing their level best to save the vessel: that was plain. Capt. Mazard stood with clinched hands watching them, every muscle and nerve tense as wire.

I was hoping the most dangerous crisis had passed, when a tremendous noise, like a thunder-peal low down to the earth, burst from the ice-jammed arm of the inlet to the north-east. We turned instantly in that direction. The whole pack of ice, filling the arm for near a half-mile, was in motion, grating and grinding together. From where we stood, the noise more resembled heavy, near thunder than anything else I can compare it with.

"It's the tide bursting round from the north-east side!" exclaimed Kit.

"Took it a little longer to come in among the islands on the north side," said Raed, gazing intently at the fearful spectacle.

The noise nearly deafened us. The whole vast mass of ice—millions of tons—was heaving and sliding, cake over cake. It had lain piled fifteen or twenty feet above the water; but the tide surging under it and through it caused it to mix and churn together. We could see the water gushing up through crevices, sometimes in fountains of forty or fifty feet, hurling up large fragments of ice. The phenomenon was gigantic in all its aspects. To us, who expected every moment to see it borne forward and crush the schooner, it was appalling. But the sea filling in on the south, added to the narrowness of the arm, prevented the jam from rushing through; though a great deal of ice did float out, and, caught in the swirling currents, bumped pretty hard against the vessel's sides. The schooner swayed about heavily; but the anchor held miraculously, as we thought. Once we fancied it had given way, and held our breath till the cable tightened sharply again. The grating and thundering of the jam gradually dulled, muffled by the water. Our thoughts reverted to our own situation. The sea had risen within five feet of the place where we were standing. To get up here in the morning we had been obliged to scale a precipice.

"It must have risen fully thirty feet," said Kit. "What a mighty tide!"

"Why should it rush in here with so much greater violence than it does down on the coast of Massachusetts or at Long Branch?" questioned Wade. "How do you explain it, captain?"

"It is because the coasts, both above and below the mouth of the straits, converge after the manner of a tunnel. The tidal wave from the Atlantic is thus accumulated, and pours into the straits with much more than ordinary violence. The same thing occurs in the Bay of Fundy, where they have very high tides. But I had no idea of such violence," he added, "or I shouldn't have risked the schooner so near the rocks. Why, that inlet ran like Niagara rapids!"

"What an evidence this gives one of the strength of the moon's attraction!" said Raed. "All this great mass of water—thirty feet high—is drawn in here by the moon. What enormous force!"

"And this vast power is exerted over a distance of two hundred and thirty-eight thousand miles," remarked Kit.

"I can't understand this attraction of gravitation,—how it is exerted," said Wade.

"No more can anyone," replied Raed.

"It is said that this attraction of the moon, or at least the friction of the tides on the ocean-bed which it causes, is exerted in opposition to the revolution of the earth on its axis, and that it will thus at some future time stop that motion altogether," Kit remarked. "That's what Prof. Tyndall thinks."

"Then there would be an end of day and night," said I; "or rather it would be all day on one side of the earth, and all night on the other."

"That would be unpleasant," laughed Wade; "worse than they have it up at the north pole."

"It is some consolation," said Raed, "to know that such a state of things is not likely to come in our time. According to a careful calculation, the length of the day is not thus increased more than a second in a hundred and sixty-eight thousand years."

"But how are we to go aboard, sir?" inquired Hobbs, to whom our present fix was of more interest than the long days of far-distant posterity.

The boat had been tossed about here and there, and was now some twenty or thirty yards astern of the schooner.

"Have to swim for it," said Donovan.

"Not in this icy water, I hope," said Kit. "Can't we devise a plan to capture it?"

"They might tie a belaying-pin to the end of a line, and throw it into the boat," said the captain.

"Or, better still, one of those long cod-lines with the heavy sinker and hook on it," suggested Hobbs.

"Just the thing!" exclaimed Capt. Mazard. "Sing out to them!"

"Unless I'm mistaken, that is just what old Trull is up to now," said Wade. "He's throwing something! see that!"

As Wade said, old man Trull was throwing a line, with what turned out to be one of our small grapnels attached. The first throw fell short, and the line was drawn in; the second and third went aside; but the fourth landed the grapnel in the boat. It was hauled in. Weymouth and Corliss then got aboard, and came off to us.

"Well, boys, what sort of a dry storm have you been having here?" said the captain as they came up under where we stood.

"Never saw such a hole!" exclaimed Weymouth. "You don't know how we were slat about! We went right up on it! Had to pay out six fathoms of extra cable, anyway. D'ye mind what a thundering noise that ice made?"

We went off to the schooner. Trull stood awaiting us, grinning grimly.

"I don't gen'ly give advice to my betters," he began, with a hitch at his trousers; "but"—

"You'd be getting out of this?" finished Raed.

"I wud, sur."

There was a general laugh all round. But the wind had set dead in the south-east again. There was no room for tacking in the narrow inlet. To get out we should have to tow the schooner a mile against the wind,—among ice too. Clearly we must lay here till the wind favored. We concluded, however, to change our position for one a little lower down, and nearer the middle of the cove. The anchor was heaved up preparatory to towing the vessel along. The men had considerable difficulty in starting it off the bottom; and, on getting it up, one of the flukes was found to be chipped off,—bits as large as one's fist, probably from catching among jagged rocks at the bottom. We thought that this might also account for the tenacity with which the anchor held against the tide. Doubtless there were crevices and cracks, with great bowlders, scattered about on the bottom of the cove. Towing "The Curlew" back not far from a hundred yards from our first berth, the anchor was again let go in thirty-seven fathoms; and, for additional security, a second cable was bent to our extra anchor, which we dropped out of the stern. This matter, with arrangements for heaving the anchor up with tackle and fall (for we had no windlass in the stern), took up the time till considerably past noon.



CHAPTER V.

A Dead Narwhal.—Snowy Owls.—Two Bears in Sight.—Firing on them with the Howitzer.—A Bear-Hunt among the Ice.—An Ice "Jungle."—An Exciting Chase.—The Bear turns.—Palmleaf makes "a Sure Shot."—"Run, you Black Son!"

About two o'clock a dead narwhal came floating out with the ice from the north-east arm, and passed quite near the schooner,—so near, that we could judge pretty accurately as to its length, which we estimated to be twenty or twenty-two feet; and its horn, or tusk, which was partly under water, could not have been less than five feet.

"Killed among the ice there, I reckon," said Capt. Mazard. "Crushed up. I should not wonder if there were a great many large fish killed so."

It seemed not improbable; for we had seen several snowy owls hovering over the ice-packs; and, about an hour afterwards, as we were reading in the cabin, Weymouth came down to say that a couple of bears were in sight up there among the ice. We went up immediately. None of us had ever seen a white bear, save at menageries, where they had to keep the poor brutes dripping with ice-water, they were so near roasting with our climate. To see a white bear prowling in his native ice-fastnesses was, therefore, a novel spectacle for us.

They were distant from the schooner, at a rough guess, five hundred yards, and seemed to have a good deal of business about a hole, or chasm, among the loose ice at some distance up the arm.

"Seal or a dead finner in there, I'll be bound," said the captain. "Now, boys, there's a chance for a bear-hunt!"

"Suppose we give 'em a shot from my cannon-rifle," I suggested.

"Better take the howitzer," said Raed. "Load it with a grist of those bullets."

"That'll be the most likely to fetch 'em," laughed the captain.

Wade ran down after the powder and balls. The rest of us unlashed the gun, got off the rubber-cloth, and trundled it along to point it over the starboard rail. Raed then swabbed it out; Kit poured in the powder; while Wade and I rammed down a wad of old newspaper.

"Now, put in a good dose of these blue-pills," advised the captain, scooping up both hands full from the bag in which we kept them.

"Ef you war ter jest tie 'em up, or wrop 'em in a bit of canvas, they'd go straighter, and wouldn't scatter round so bad," remarked old Trull, who was not an uninterested spectator of the proceedings.

"Make them up sort of grape or canister shot fashion, you mean," said Raed.

"Yes; that's what I mean,—ter keep 'em frum scatterin'."

"Not a bad idea," said Capt. Mazard. "Weymouth, bring a piece of old canvas and a bit of manila-yarn."

About a quart of the ounce balls were hastily wrapped in the canvas, and lashed up with the hempen twine. The bag was then rammed down upon the powder, and the howitzer pointed.

"Let old Trull do the shooting," whispered Kit. "He will be as likely to hit as any of us."

"Mr. Trull," Capt. Mazard began, "we must look to you to shoot those bears for us. Pepper 'em good, now!"

At that we all stood away from the gun. The old fellow grinned, hesitated a moment, then stepped forward, evidently not a little flattered by the confidence reposed in him. First he sighted the piece very methodically. The schooner lay perfectly still. A better chance for a shot could hardly have been asked for. Palmleaf now came up with a bit of tarred rope lighted at the stove, and smoking after the manner of a slow match, with a red coal at the end. Trull took the rope, and, watching his chance till both the bears were in sight and near each other, touched the priming,—Tizz-z-z-WHANG!

The carriage recoiled almost as smartly as my big rifle had done. Why is it that a person standing near a gun—especially a heavy gun—can never see what execution is done during the first second or two? He may have his eye on the mark at the discharge, but somehow the report always throws his ocular apparatus out of gear. In a moment I espied one of the bears scrambling over an ice-cake. The other had already disappeared; or else was killed, and had fallen down some fissure.

"Man the boat!" exclaimed Raed. "I'm anxious to see the result of that shot! Bring up those muskets, Wade!"

"Who goes on the bear-hunt, and who stays?" cried the captain.

"I'll stand by the vassel," said old Trull. "Guard and I will look out for things on board."

"Den I'll take his place, sar!" exclaimed Palmleaf, catching the enthusiasm of the thing.

Wade appeared with the muskets. Five of them were already loaded. Cartridges were soon clapped into six more. Wade handed us each one, including Palmleaf.

"See that you don't shoot any of us with it, you lubber!" he said.

"Neber fear, sar," replied the negro with a grin. "I'se called a berry good shot at Petersburg, sar. Fit there, sar,—on the Linkum side."

"You did?"

"Yes, sar. Called a berry sure shot, sar."

Kit and Raed began to laugh.

"Come, tumble in, boys!" shouted the captain, who didn't see the point quite so clearly as we did.

We got into the boat,—eleven of us; about as many as could find room. Hobbs and Bonney lay back at the oars. Kit steered us up to the low ledges of the small island on the west side of the ice-packed arm, where the bears had been seen. We landed, and pulled the boat up after us. No danger from the tide at this time of day. The captain and Raed led off, climbing over the rocks, and following along the jam of ice, which was piled considerably higher than the shore of the arm. Palmleaf, jolly as a darky need be, kept close behind them. The rest followed as best they might, clambering from ledge to ledge. Wade and I brought up the rear.

"Only look at that nigger!" muttered my kinsman of Southern blood. "Impudent dog! I would like to crack his head with the butt of this musket! Hear how he wagged his tongue to me?"

"Well, you called him a lubber."

"What of that?"

"What of that? Why, you must expect him to talk back: that's all. He's a free man, now, you know."

"The more's the pity!"

"I don't see it."

"I'd like to have the handling of that nigger a while!"

"No doubt. But you might just as well get over those longings first as last," I said; for I was beginning to get sick of his foolish spirit. "You had better forget the war, bury your old-time prejudices, and start new in the world, resolved to live and let live; to be a good fellow, and treat everybody alike and well. That's the way we do in the North,—or ought to."

Wade said not a word. I rather pity the fellow. He has got some mighty hard, painful lessons to learn before he will be able to start right in life.

Raed and the captain had stopped.

"They were right opposite here, over among the ice," Raed was saying. "I marked the spot by that high cake sticking up above the rest."

"We need scaling-ladders to get up among it," laughed Kit. "Talk of impenetrable jungles! here is a jungle of ice!"

Imagine, reader, a thousand ice-cakes from six to thirty feet square, and of every grade of thickness, piled sidewise, edgewise, slantwise, cross-wise, and flatwise on top of that, and you may, perhaps, gain some idea of the vast jam which filled the arm and lay heaped up twenty and thirty feet above us. For a moment we were at a loss how to surmount it; then all began looking along for some available cranny or rift which might offer a foothold.

"Here's a breach!" Weymouth shouted.

He had gone along a dozen rods farther. We followed to see him mounting by the jagged edge of a vast cake five or six feet thick which projected out over the ledges. Kit followed; and they stood at the top, stretching down helping hands. In five minutes we were all up, standing, clinging, and balancing on the glassy edges of ice, and hopping and leaping from cake to cake. Cracks, crevices, and jagged holes opened ten, fifteen, and twenty feet sheer down all about us. A single misstep would send us head-foremost into them.

"I say," exclaimed Capt. Mazard, barely saving himself from a tumble, "this is a devil of a funny place for a bear-hunt! No chance for rapid retreats! It will be fight bear, or die!"

The place where the bears had stood when old Trull had fired was back fifteen or twenty rods to the right. We worked off in that direction, getting occasional glimpses of the water down in the deep holes, and stopping once to pull Corliss out of a wedge-shaped crevice into which he had slipped. Arriving on a big broad cake,—which, for a wonder, lay flat side up,—we paused to reconnoitre.

"Don't see any thing of 'em," said the captain.

"Gone, I'll bet my musket!" said Kit disappointedly. "More'n a league away by this time, I'll warrant you."

"Doubt if the old man touched 'em!" said Hobbs.

"Guess he suspected as much!" laughed the captain. "Perhaps that was why he wouldn't come."

"But we haven't half searched yet!" exclaimed Wade, pushing out along the edge of a tilted-up fragment, and jumping across to another.

As he jumped the ticklish cake tipped, slid back, and toppled over into a great chasm to the right with a tremendous crash and spattering,—for there was water at the bottom,—Wade barely saving himself. Almost at the same instant, I thought I heard a low growl not far off.

"Hark!" exclaimed Kit. "Wasn't that the bear?"

"Sounded like one!" muttered the captain. "Down among the ice!"

"May be wounded down there," said Kit. "Crawled in under the ice."

"Spread out round here, boys," cried the captain, "and peep sharp into the holes!"

I knew we were near where the bullets from the howitzer had hit; for I saw several of them lying down in the cracks, flattened by striking against the ice: and, a few rods farther on, Weymouth and I came to a large irregular hole sixteen or seventeen feet deep, along the bottom of which we saw the bones of some fish.

"This is the very place where they were when we first saw them," said Weymouth. "Ten to one they've crawled into some of those big cracks."

We pitched down a loose junk of ice, and again heard a growl: though just where it issued from was hard telling; for the broad faces of the cakes, set at all angles, echoed the sound in a most bewildering manner. Kit and the captain came along; and we rolled down another fragment. Another growl.

"He's in behind this great cake that sets upright against the side of the hole!" exclaimed Weymouth.

"Think so?" said Kit. "Then let's tip this large piece off on to it. May scare him out."

We managed to turn it over the edge; when it fell down smash upon the cake below, splitting it in two. Instantly the bear, a great shaggy, white fellow, sprang out, and ran round at the bottom of the hole, growling, and trying to scratch up the sides. He had several bloody streaks on him. Kit took a rapid aim, and fired a bullet into his fore-shoulder; which only made him growl the louder, however. Then the captain gave him a shot in the head; at which the creature tumbled down, and kicked his last very quietly.

But meanwhile we had heard a great uproar and shouting off to the left.

"They've started the other, I guess!" exclaimed Kit. "Come on!"

Just then a shot was fired, followed by a noise of falling ice-cakes. We could see a head bob up occasionally, and made for the melee as fast as we could hop. The jam in this direction was not so high. The ice-cakes lay flatter, and were less heaped one above the other. Cries of "There he is! there he goes!" burst out on a sudden; then another musket-shot.

Leaping on, we soon caught sight of the chase. The bear was jumping from cake to cake. Raed, Corliss, and Hobbs were following after him at a reckless pace; Bonney was trying to cut him off on the right; while Wade and Donovan, with Palmleaf a few rods behind them, were heading him on the left. Such a shouting and hallooing! They were all mad with excitement. We, who had killed our bear, kept after them as fast as we could run, but couldn't begin to catch up.

Bang! Somebody tired at him then.

'Twas Hobbs.

"Cut him off!"

"Head him!" was the cry.

"He's hit!"

"Head him off there!"

Wade and Donovan were actually outstripping the bear, and getting ahead; seeing which, the frightened, maddened beast tacked sharp to the left to escape behind them on that side,—going straight for Palmleaf, who was now considerably behind Wade and Don. Instantly a yell arose from all hands.

"Look out, Palmleaf!"

"Shoot him, Palmleaf!"

"Let him have it!"

"Aim low!"

"Now's your time!"

The negro, who had been running hard, stopped short, and, seeing the bear bounding toward him, made a feint to raise his musket, when it went off, either from accident or terror, in the air. We heard the bullet zip fifty feet overhead. The bear gave a vicious growl, and made directly at him.

"He'll have the darky!"

"He'll have you, Palmleaf!"

"Run, fool!"

"Run, you black son!"

Palmleaf turned to run; but, seeing a high rand of ice sticking up a few yards to his left, he leaped for it, and, jumping up, caught his hands at the top, and tried to draw himself up on to it. The bear was within six feet of him, snarling like a fury.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Raed and Corliss and Bonney had fired within twenty yards. But the bear reared, and struck with his forepaws at the darky's legs, stripping his trousers clean off the first pull. Such a howl as came from his terrified throat!

Crack!

That was a better shot. The bear turned, or set out to, but fell down in a heap, then scrambled up, but immediately tumbled over again, and lay kicking.

By this time we had all got near. The negro, scared nearly into fits, still hung on to the edge of the ice, looking as if "spread-eagled" to it.

"Come, sir," said Wade. "Better get down and put on your trousers,—what there is left of them."

The darky turned an agonized, appealing visage over his shoulder, but, seeing only friends instead of bears, let go his hold, and dropped to his feet.

"That's what you call a 'sure shot,' is it," sneered Wade,—"that one you fired at the bear? Guess you didn't hurt us much at Petersburg."

"He need to be pretty thankful that somebody fired a sure shot about the time the bear was paying his compliments to him," laughed the captain.

"Yes: who fired that last shot?" I asked of Donovan, who stood near.

"Wade did."

We had to send back to the schooner for the butcher-knives, and also for a line to hoist the bear we had first killed out of the hole.

The bears were skinned: we wanted to save their hides for trophies. As nearly as we could make out, they had been both wounded by the bullets from the howitzer, one of them—the one killed first—pretty severely. They did not, however, appear to me, in this our first encounter with them, to be nearly so fierce nor so formidable as I had expected, from accounts I had read. Hobbs cut out a piece of the haunch for steaks. Palmleaf afterwards cooked it: but we didn't much relish it, save Guard; and he ate the most of it.



CHAPTER VI.

The Middle Savage Isles.—Glimpse of an Esquimau Canoe.—Firing at a Bear with the Cannon-Rifle.—A Strange Sound.—The Esquimaux.—Their Kayaks.—They come on board.—An Unintelligible Tongue.—"Chymo."

During the night following our bear-hunt a storm came on,—wind, rain, and snow, as before,—and continued all the next day. The tremendous tides, however, effectually prevented any thing like dullness from "creeping over our spirits;" since we were sure of a sensation at least twice in twenty-four hours. But during the next night it cleared up, with the wind north; and, quite early on the morning of the 11th of July, we dropped out of "Mazard's Bay," and stood away up the straits.

At one o'clock we sighted another group of mountainous isles,—the same figured on the chart as the "Middle Savage Isles;" and by five o'clock we were passing the easternmost a couple of miles to the southward. Between it and the next island, which lay a little back to the north, there was a sort of bay filled with floating ice. Raed was leaning on the bulwarks with his glass, scanning the islands as we bowled along under a full spread of canvas. Suddenly he turned, and called to Kit.

"Get your glass," he said. "Or never mind: take mine. Now look right up there between those islands. What do you see?"

"Seals," replied Kit slowly, with the glass to his eye. "Any quantity of seals on the ice there; and—there's something larger scooting along. That's a narwhal: no, 'tain't, either. By jolly! see the seals flop off into the water as it shoots along! afraid of it. There! something flashed then in the sun! Raed, I believe that's a kayak,—an Esquimau canoe! An Esquimau catching seals!"

"That's what I thought."

"Wash!"

"Wade!"

"Get your glasses, and come here quick!"

"What's that about Esquimau?" demanded Capt. Mazard, coming along from the binnacle.

"An Esquimau kayak!" said Raed.

"That so?" running after his glass.

In a few moments we were all—all who had glasses—looking off at the wonderful object, to see which had been one of the pleasant hopes of our voyage; and yet I am bound to say, that, in and of itself, it was no great of a sight, especially at a distance of two miles. But, considered as an invention perfected through centuries by one of the most singular peoples of the Man family, it is, in connection with all their implements of use, well worth a study. Indeed, there is, to me at least, something so inexpressibly quaint and bizarre about this race, as to render them an object well deserving of a visit. More strikingly even than the Hottentot or the Digger Indian of the Western sage deserts do they exhibit the iron sway of climate and food over habits and character, as well as physical growth and development.

The kayak moved about from point to point for some minutes; then shot up into the passage between the islets, and was lost from view.

"Suppose he saw us,—saw the schooner?" said Wade.

"Should have thought he might," replied the captain. "Must be a pretty conspicuous object out here in the sun, with all sail set."

"He may have gone to give news of our arrival," said Raed; "for I presume there are others—whole families—not far away. These people always live in small communities or villages, I understand."

"This may be as good a chance to see them as we shall get," said Kit. "What say for shortening sail, or standing up nearer the islands, and laying to for the night?"

"Just as you say, gentlemen," replied the captain.

It was agreed to stand up within half a mile, and so cruise along leisurely; thus giving them a chance to communicate with us if they desired. The helm was accordingly put round, and "The Curlew" headed for the second island. Half an hour took us up within a thousand yards of the ledges: the schooner was then hove to for an hour.

"A few discharges from the howitzer might stir them up," suggested Wade.

"We could do that!" exclaimed Raed.

Powder was brought up, and the gun charged and fired. A thunderous echo came back from the rocky sides of the islands. A second and a third shot were given at intervals of five minutes: but we saw nothing more of the kayak; and, after waiting nearly an hour more, the schooner was headed around, and continued on her course at about the same distance from the islands. A gun was fired every hour till midnight. We then turned in for a nap.

From this time till four o'clock the next morning we passed three islands: so the sailors reported. The high mainland was distinctly visible four or five miles to the northward.

At five o'clock we were off a small, low islet,—scarcely more than a broad ledge, rising at no point more than ten feet above the sea. It was several miles from the island next above it, however, and girdled by a glittering ice-field, the remains of last winter's frost, not yet broken up. Altogether the islet and the ice-field about it was perhaps two or two miles and a half in diameter. On the west it was separated from the island below it—a high, black dome of sienite—by a narrow channel of a hundred and fifty yards. Hundreds of seals lay basking in the sun along the edges of the ice-field; and, as we were watching them, we saw a bear swim across the channel and climb on to the ice-field. Landing, he gave his shaggy sides a shake; then, making a short run, seized upon a seal, off which he was soon breakfasting.

"We'll spoil his fun!" exclaimed Kit. "Bring up one of those solid shots, Wade. We've got two bear-skins; but we shall want one apiece. I propose to have an overcoat next winter out of that fellow's hide."

The howitzer was loaded with the six-pound iron ball. Kit undertook to do the shooting this time. The distance was, we judged, somewhere from three-fourths of a mile to a mile. The rest of us got our glasses, and went back toward the stern to watch the effect of the shot. Of course it is hap-hazard work, firing at so small an object at so great a distance, with a cannon, from the deck of a vessel in motion. Nevertheless Kit made quite a show of elevating the gun and getting the range. Presently he touched off. The first we saw of the shot was its striking on the ice-field at a long distance short of the bear. The bits of ice flew up smartly, and the ball must have ricochetted; for we saw the ice fly up again quite near the bear, and then at another point beyond him. It probably went over him at no great height. The creature paused from his bloody feast, looked round, and then ran off a few rods, and stood sniffing for some moments, but soon came back to the seal. Whether it was the report, or the noise of the ball whirring over, which had startled him, was not very evident.

"Not an overcoat!" laughed Raed.

"It's my turn now," said I, uncovering my smaller cannon. "I'll make the next bid for that overcoat."

I put in a little less than half a gill of powder this time, and wrapped a thin patch round the ball to make it fit tightly. It was all we could do to drive it down. The gun was then capped and cocked. I moved the screw to elevate it about an inch, and, watching my chance as the schooner heaved, let drive. But the bear kept on eating. There was a general laugh.

"Didn't even notice you!" cried Kit. "I can overbid that!"—taking up the powder to reload the howitzer.

"Not before I bid again," said I.

And at it we went to see who would get loaded first to get the next shot. But, my gun being so much the smaller and more easily handled, I had my ball down before Kit had his powder-wad rammed. The rest stood clapping and cheering us. Hastily priming the tube, I whipped on a cap, then beckoned to old Trull.

"Here," said I, "shoot that bear for me!"

The old salt chuckled, and had his eye to the piece immediately. I snatched up my glass. Kit paused to see the result. The old man pulled the trigger. There was a moment's hush, then a great "Hurrah!" The bear had jumped up, and, whirling partly round, ran off across the ice-field roaring, we fancied; for he had his mouth open, and snapping round to his flanks. He had been grazed, if nothing more. With the glass we could detect blood on his white coat.

"He's hit!" said I. "Let's bear up into the channel: that'll stop him from getting back to the high islands. We can then hunt him at leisure on the ice-field. He won't care to swim clean up to the"—

"Hark!" exclaimed Raed suddenly. "What's that noise?"

We all listened.

It was a noise not greatly unlike the faint, distant cawing and hawing of a vast flock of crows as they sometimes congregate in autumn.

"It's some sort of water-fowl clanging out there about the high islands," said I.

Again it rose, borne on the wind,—"Ta-yar-r-r! ta-yar-r-r! ta-yar-r-r!" Had we been at home, I should have taken it for a distant mass-meeting cheering the result of the presidential election, or perhaps the presidential nomination at the convention. It had a peculiarly barbarous, reckless sound, which was not wholly unfamiliar. But up here in Hudson Straits we were at a loss how to account for it.

"I believe it's the Huskies," said the captain. "Take a good look all around with your glasses."

We ran our eyes over the islands. They looked bare of any thing like an Esquimau convention. Presently Kit uttered an exclamation.

"Why, just turn your glass off to the main, beyond the islands; right over the ice-field; on that lofty brown headland that juts out from the main! There they are!"

There they were, sure enough,—a grimy, bare-headed crowd, swinging their arms, and gesticulating wildly. It could not have been less than five miles; but the faint "Ta-yar-r-r!" still came to our ears.

"Suppose they are calling to us?" cried Raed.

"Yes; looks like that," replied the captain.

"Heard the guns, you see," said Kit; "those we fired at the bear."

"Port the helm!" ordered the captain. "We'll beat up through this channel to the north side of the ice-field."

"Perhaps we had best not go up too near them at first," remarked Raed, "till we find out what sort of folks they are."

"No: two miles will be near enough. They will come off to us,—as many of them as we shall want on board at one time, I dare say."

The schooner bore up through the channel, and wore along the ice-field on the north side at a distance of a few hundred yards from it. We saw the bear running off round to the south-east side to keep away from us; though, as may readily be supposed, our attention was mainly directed to the strange people on the headland, whose discordant cries and shouts could now be plainly heard. We could see them running down to the shore; and immediately a score of canoes shot out, and came paddling towards us.

"You don't doubt that their coming off is from friendly motives, captain?" Kit asked.

"Oh, no!"

"Still forty or fifty stout fellows might give us our hands full, if they were ill-disposed," remarked Wade.

"That's a fact," admitted the captain; "though I don't believe they would attempt any thing of the sort."

"Well, there is no harm in being well armed," said Raed. "Kit, you and Wash get up half a dozen of the muskets, and load them. Fix the bayonets on them too. Wade and I will load the howitzer and the mighty rifle. And, captain, I don't believe we had better have more than a dozen of them on board at one time till we know them better."

"That may be as well," replied Capt. Mazard. "It will be unpleasant having too many of them aboard at once, anyway. And, in order to have the deck under our thumb a little more, I am going to station two of the sailors with muskets, as a guard, near the man at the wheel, another amidships, and two more forward."

Meanwhile the kayaks were approaching, a whole school of them, shouting and racing with each other. Such a barbaric din! The crowd on the shore added their distant shouts.

"There's another thing we must look out for," remarked the captain. "These folks are said to be a little thievish. It will be well enough to put loose small articles out of sight."

Hastily perfecting our arrangements, we provided ourselves each with a musket, and were ready for our strange visitors. They came paddling up, one to a canoe. Their paddles had blades at each end, and were used on either side alternately, with a queer windmill sort of movement.

"Twenty-seven of them," said Kit.

"Bareheaded, every mother's son of them!" exclaimed Weymouth.

"Only look at the long-haired mokes!" laughed Donovan.

"Why, they're black as Palmleaf!" cried Hobbs.

"Oh, no! not nearly so black," said Bonney. "Just a good square dirt-color."

This last comparison was not far from correct. The Esquimaux are, as a matter of fact, considerably darker than the red Indians of the United States. They are not reddish: they are brown, to which grease and dinginess add not a little. On they came till within fifty yards; when all drew up on a sudden, and sat regarding us in something like silence. Perhaps our bayonets, with the sunlight flashing on them, may have filled them with a momentary suspicion of danger. Seeing this, we waved our arms to them, beckoning them to approach. While examining the relics of a past age,—the stone axes, arrow-heads, and maces,—I have often pictured in fancy the barbarous habits, the wild visages, and harsh accents, of prehistoric races,—races living away back at the time when men were just rising above the brute. In the wild semi-brutish shouts and gesticulations which followed our own gesture of friendliness I seemed to hear and see these wild fancies verified,—verified in a manner I had not supposed it possible to be observed in this age. And yet here were primitive savages apparently, not fifteen hundred miles in a direct course from our own enlightened city of Boston, where, as we honestly believe, we have the cream (some of it, at least) of the world's civilization. Reflect on this fact, ye who think the whole earth almost ready for the reign of scientific righteousness!

Such an unblessed discord! such a cry of pristine savagery! They came darting up alongside, their great fat, flat, greasy faces, with their little sharp black eyes, looking up to us full of confidence and twinkling with expectation of good bargains.

During our voyage we had got out of our books quite a number of Esquimaux words with their English meanings; but these fellows gabbled so fast, so shockingly indistinct, and ran every thing together so, that we could not gain the slightest idea of what they were saying, further than by the word "chymo," which, as we had previously learned, meant trade, or barter. But they had nothing with them to trade off to us, save their kayaks, paddles, and harpoons.

"But let's get a lot of them up here where we can see them," said Wade.

We now made signs for them to climb on deck; and immediately half a dozen of them stood up, and, with a spring, caught hold of the rail, and came clambering up, leaving their canoes to float about at random. Five—seven—eleven—thirteen—came scratching over.

"There, that'll do for one dose," said Raed.

Kit and Wade stepped along, and thrust out their muskets to stop the stream. One little fellow, however, had got half up: so they let him nig in, making fourteen in all. Three or four more had tried to get up near the stern; but Weymouth and Don, who were on duty there, rapped their knuckles gently, as a reminder to let go and drop back into their kayaks, which they did without grumbling. Indeed, they seemed singularly inoffensive; and, come to get them on deck, they were "little fellows,"—not so tall as we boys even by a whole head. They were pretty thick and stout, however, and had remarkably large heads and faces. I do not think the tallest of them was much, if any, over five feet. Donovan, who was about six feet, looked like a giant beside them. They stood huddled together, looking just a little wistful at being cut off from their fellows, and casting fearful glances at Guard, who stood barking excitedly at them from the companion-way. Though used to dogs, they had very likely never seen a jet-black Newfoundland before. Possibly they mistook him for some different animal.

"What are we thinking of," exclaimed Raed, "with our guns and bayonets! Why, these little chaps look the very embodiment of good nature! Here they trust themselves among us without so much as a stick in their hands; while we've got out all our deadly weapons! Let's let the rest of them come up if they want to."

Kit and Wade stood back, and beckoned to the others: whereat they all came climbing up, save one, who stayed, apparently, to look out for the empty kayaks, which were floating about. They brought rather strong odors of smoke and greasy manginess; but more good-natured faces I never saw.

"My eye! but aren't they flabby fat!" exclaimed Hobbs.

"That comes of drinking seal and whale oil," said Bonney.

"Guess they don't sport combs much," said Donovan. "Look at those tousled heads! Bet you, they're lousy as hens!"

"Talk to 'em, Raed," said Kit. "Say something. Ask 'em if they want to chymo."

At the sound of this last word they turned their little sharp eyes brightly on Kit.

"Chymo?" said Raed interrogatively.

Instantly they began to crowd round him, a dozen jabbering all at once. Faster even than before they ran on, amid which we could now and then distinguish words which sounded like oomiaksook, hennelay, cob-loo-nak, yemeck. These words, as we had read, meant big ship, woman, Englishman, water, respectively. But it was utterly impossible to make out in what connection they were used. Despite our vocabulary, we were as much at a loss as ever.

"Confound it!" Kit exclaimed. "Let's make signs. No use trying to talk with them."

"We shall want one of those kayaks to carry home," remarked Raed. "Captain, will you please bring up a couple of those long bars of iron and three or four yards of red flannel? We will see what can be done in the chymo line."

Capt. Mazard soon appeared with the iron and the flannel; at sight of which the exclamation of "Chymo!" and "Tyma!" ("Good!") were redoubled. Raed then took the articles, and, going to the side, pointed down to one of the canoes, then to the iron bars, and said chymo. At that some of them said "Tyma," and others "Negga-mai," with a shake of their heads; but when Raed pointed to both the iron and the flannel, undoubling it as he did so, they all cried "Tyma!" and one of them (the owner of the kayak, as it proved) came forward to take the things. Raed gave them to him. A line with a slip-noose was then dropped over the nose of the kayak, and it was pulled on board.

In plan it was much like our cedar "shells" used at regattas,—a narrow skiff about twenty-three feet in length by eighteen inches in width. At the centre there was a small round hole just large enough for one to sit with his legs under the seal-skin deck, which was bound tightly to a hoop encircling the hole. Indeed, the whole outside of this singular craft was of seal-skins, sewed together and drawn tight as a drum-head over a frame composed mainly of the rib-bones of the walrus. The double-bladed paddle was tied to the kayak with a long thong; as was also a harpoon, made of bones laid together, and wound over with a long thong of green seal-skin. The lance-blade at the point was of very white, fine ivory; probably that of the walrus. Attached to the harpoon was a very long coil of line, made also of braided seal-skin, and wound about a short, upright peg behind the hoop. We supposed that the paddle and the harpoon went with the kayak. But the owner did not see it in that light. As soon as it had been hauled on deck, he proceeded to untie the thongs, much to the amusement of the captain. As we wished these articles to go together, nothing remained but to drive a new bargain for them. Raed, therefore, took one of our large jack-knives from his pocket, and, opening it, pointed to the paddle, and again said chymo.

They all negga-mai-ed, giving us to understand that it wouldn't be a fair trade; in other words, that they couldn't afford it: and the owner of the paddle kept repeating the work karrack deprecatingly.

"What in the world does karrack mean?" Raed asked, turning to us.

Nobody knew.

"Karrack?" queried he.

"Karrack, karrack!" was the reply.

"Karrack, karrack, karrack!" they all cried, pointing to the paddle and also to the bulwarks.

"They mean wood!" exclaimed the captain. "Corliss, bring up two or three of those four-foot sticks such as we are using for firewood."

It was brought, and thrown down on deck.

"Karrack, karrack!" they all exclaimed, and fell to laughing in a most extraordinary way, making a noise which seemed to come from low down in their stomachs, and resembled the syllables heh-heh, or yeh-yeh, over and over and over. Raed pointed to the three sticks of wood, and then to the paddle, with another "chymo." That was tyma; for they all nodded and heh-hehed again.

"A trade," said the captain. "Now for the harpoon and line."

These we got for a bar of iron and another stick of wood. It at first seemed rather singular that they should prize a stick of ordinary split wood so highly; but it was easily accounted for when we came to reflect that this vast region is destitute of trees of any size. Wood was almost as eagerly sought for as iron. I have no doubt that a very profitable trade might be made with a cargo of wood along these straits, exchanged for walrus-ivory, bear-skins, and seal-skins.

They wore a sort of jacket, or round frock, of bear-skin, with a cap, or hood, fastened to the collar like the hood of a water-proof. It was tied with thongs in front, and came down to the thigh. Kit bought one of these for a jack-knife,—for a curiosity, of course. Wade also purchased a pair of seal-skin moccasons, with legs to the knee, for a butcher-knife; which gave us a chance to observe that the owner wore socks of dog-skin, with the hair in. A pair of these were chymoed from another man for a stick of wood.

Beneath their bear-skin frocks they wore a shirt of some thin skin, which the captain pronounced to be bladder-skin,—of bears, perhaps. I got one of these shirts for a jack-knife. Wishing to have an entire outfit, we bought a pair of breeches of the man of whom we had already purchased the boots, for a dozen spike-nails. These were of fox-skin, apparently, with the hair worn next the skin. I noticed that one man wore a small white bone or ivory trinket, seemingly carved to represent a child. Pointing to it, I held out a butcher-knife,—a good bargain, I fancied. Somewhat to my surprise, he negga-mai-ed with a very grave shake of his head. Two or three others who saw it shook their heads too. Wishing to test him, I brought up a bar of iron, and made another tender of both knife and iron. But he shook his head still more decidedly, and turned away as if to put a stop to further bantering on the subject. We were at a loss to know whether it was a souvenir,—the image of some dead child, or an object of religious reverence. Finally the captain pointed across the ice-field, where the bear was sitting crouched on the margin of it, and said, "Nen-ook." At that they all looked, and, espying him, gave vent to a series of cries and shouts. Six of them immediately dropped into their kayaks and set off after him. Reaching the ice, they landed, and pulled the canoes on to it. Then, taking their harpoons, they divided into three parties of two each. One of these went straight across toward the bear; the second followed round the edge of the field to the right, the third to the left. The bear must have been pretty severely wounded by our six-ounce bullet, I think; for he paid no attention to their approach till they were within four or five rods, when he made a feeble attempt to get past them. They rushed up to him without the slightest hesitation, and despatched him in a twinkling.



CHAPTER VII.

The Husky Belles.—We-we and Caubvick.—"Abb," she said.—All Promenade.—Candy at a Discount.—"Pillitay, pillitay!"—Old Trull and the Husky Matron.—Gorgeous Gifts.—Adieu to the Arctic Beauties.

None of their women had come off with them; and, while the party that had gone after the bear were busy skinning it, Raed brought up a roll of flannel, with half a dozen knives, and, holding them up, pointed off to the mainland and said, "Henne-lay." Whereupon they fell to heh-hehing afresh with cries of "Igloo, igloo!" Kit pointed to our boat, hanging from the davits at the stern, and then off to the shore, to inquire whether we should send it for them; but they shook their heads, and cried, "Oomiak, oomiak!"

"Do they mean for us to take the schooner up there?" asked the captain.

Raed pointed to the deck, and then off to the shore, inquiringly. No, that was not it; though they still cried "Oomiak!" pointing off to the shore.

"Oomiak is a boat of their own, I guess," said Kit; "different from the kayak. They called 'The Curlew' oomiak-sook, you know."

"Tell them to bring some of their children along too," said Wade.

"Well, what's the word for child?" Raed inquired.

We none of us knew.

"Try pappoose," suggested the captain.

"Pappoose," said Raed, pronouncing it distinctly, and pointing off as before. "Henne-lay—pappoose."

But they only looked blank. Pappoose was evidently a new word for them. We then resorted to various expedients, such as holding our hands knee-high and hip-high; but the requisite gleam of intelligence could not be inspired. So, with another repetition of the word henne-lay, we started off a delegation of eight or nine after the female portion of the settlement.

While they were gone, the six who had gone to slaughter the bear came back, bringing the hide and a considerable quantity of the meat. Bits were distributed among the crowd, and eaten raw and reeking as if a delicacy. We chymoed the bear-skin from them for a bar of iron.

In about an hour a great ta-yar-r-r-ing from the shoreward bespoke the embarkation of the ladies; and, with our glasses, we could make out a large boat coming off, surrounded by kayaks.

"That's the oomiak," said Kit. "Looks like quite a barge."

"Don't lose your hearts now," laughed the captain. "Should hate to have an elopement from my ship here."

"I think Wade is in the most danger," said Raed. "He's very susceptible to Northern beauties. We must have an eye to him."

"Beware, Wade!" cried Kit. "Don't be led astray! Steel your heart against the seductive charms of these Husky belles! Remember how the hopes of your family are centred! What would your mother say? Your father would be sure to disinherit you! How would your sisters bear it?"

"Hold on, fellows!" exclaimed Wade. "This isn't quite fair, nor honorable,—making fun of ladies behind their backs."

"Right, sir!" cried Raed. "Spoken like a true son of the South! Ah! you did always outrank us in gallantry. No discount on it. Had your heads been as true as your hearts, the result might have been different. But here come the ladies. We must do our prettiest to please 'em, or we are no true knights. By the by, we resemble the wandering knight-errants not a little, I fear."

"Only their object was adventure, while ours is science," added Kit.

"Scientific knights!" laughed Wade. "Well, the world moves!"

The oomiak was now within fifty yards.

"Let's give 'em a salute!" exclaimed Kit. "Roll the ball out of the howitzer!"

"Oh! I wouldn't; it may scare 'em," said Raed.

"No, it won't. Where's a match?"

Bang went old brassy out of the stern.

It did startle them, I fancy. Something very much like a feminine screech rose in the oomiak. It was quickly hushed up, though, with no fainting, but any quantity of heh-heh-ing and yeh-yeh-ing from the fat beauties.

"Now give 'em two more from the muskets—two at a time—when they come under the side!" shouted Kit. "Hobbs, you and Don first! Ready!—fire!"

Crack, crack!

"Now Weymouth and Corliss!"

Crack, crack!

"There! I now consider their arrival properly celebrated. And here they are under the bows! Pipe the side for the ladies, captain!"

"Bless me!" exclaimed Raed; "how are we to get 'em aboard? Can't climb a line, I don't expect."

"Wouldn't do to give 'em the ratlines!" exclaimed Kit; "might entangle their pretty feet. What's to be done, captain?"

"I—give—it—up!" groaned Capt. Mazard. "Hold! I have it: the old companion-stairs,—the ones we had taken out. They are stowed away down in the hold."

"Just the thing!" cried Raed; "the very essence of gallantry!"

"Corliss, Bonney, and Hobbs," shouted the captain, "bear a hand at those old stairs,—quick! Don't keep ladies waiting!"

The old stairs were hurried up, and let down from the side. The captain stood ready with a stout line, which he whipped around the top rung, and then made fast to the bulwarks. "That'll hold 'em," said he.

The oomiak was then brought up close, and the foot of the stairs set inside the gunwale. The oomiak was about twenty-seven feet in length by six in width. Like the kayaks, it was covered with seal-skin; or perhaps it might have been the hide of the walrus. The framework was composed of both bone and wood tied and lashed together. This was the women's boat, and was rowed by them. The only man in it was a hideous, wrinkled old savage, who sat in the stern to steer.

"Two, four, six, eight, ten, twelve, and an odd one," counted Raed. "Invite 'em up, captain."

Capt. Mazard got up on the bulwarks with a line in his hand, and, holding it down over the stairs, began to bow and make signs to them to come up. Perhaps they had not intended to actually come on board; or perhaps, like their fairer sisters in other lands, they wanted to be coaxed a little. At first they discreetly hesitated, glancing alternately up at us, then round to their swarthy countrymen in the kayaks. The most of them were seemingly young. There was but one really ugly face; while four or five were evidently under fifteen. The women were not quite so swarthy and dark as the men, and wore their hair longer. Several of them had it pugged up behind. The captain and Raed now redoubled their gestures of invitation. The Esquimau men on board also began to jabber to them; at which, first two, then another, and another, stood up, and with broad smiles essayed to mount the stairs. Kit was standing close to me.

"Now, which are the prettiest ones?" he whispered. "Which are the belles? Let's you and I secure the belles away from Raed and Wade. Those two back in the stern next to old ghoul-face—how do those strike you? Aren't those the beauties? They've got on the prettiest fur, anyway. Only look at those white gloves!"

The two Kit had pointed out were, as well as we could judge, the fairest of the bevy.

"I believe Wade's got his eye on one of them!" muttered Kit. "We'll oust him, though. Crowd along sharp when those two come up. Elbow Wade out of the way. I'll push against you, and we'll squeeze him up against the rail."

The others followed the first two, coming up the steps, taking the captain's hand, and jumping off the rail to the deck. Our two came last.

"Now's our time!" exclaimed Kit; and, making a bold push, we got in ahead of the unsuspecting Wade, who immediately saw the sell, and turned away in great disgust.

"I'll pay you for that!" muttered he.

But, having got face to face with the fur-clad damsels, we were not a little perplexed how to make their acquaintance; for they were staring at us with their small black eyes very round and wondering.

"Try a great long smile," said Kit.

We smiled very hard and persistently for some seconds. It seemed to mollify their wonder somewhat.

"Keep it up," Kit advised: "that'll bring 'em."

We kept it up, smiling and bowing and nodding as gayly as we could; and were presently rewarded by seeing faint reflections of our grins on their dusky faces, which rapidly deepened into as broad a smile as I ever beheld. They had very tolerably wide mouths, with large white teeth. Having got up a smile, we next essayed to shake hands with them according to good old New-England custom. Their white gloves were of some sort of bird-skin, I think, and fitted—well, I've seen kid gloves worn that didn't fit a whit better. How to commence a conversation was not so easy; since we knew not more than a dozen words of their language, and could not frame these into sentences. So we began by making them each a present of a jack-knife. These were accepted with a great deal of broad smiling. Kit then showed them how to open the knives. At that one of the girls reached down to her boot; and, thrusting her hand into the leg of it (for their boots had remarkably large legs, coming up to the knee, and even higher), she fished out a little bone implement about four inches long, and resembling a harpoon. Near the centre of it was a tiny hole, in which there was knotted a bit of fine leathern string. It was plain that she meant to give it to one or the other of us. Kit held out his hand for it with a bow.

"Kina?" he asked, taking it. ("What is it?")

"Tar-suk," said the girl. "Tar-suk-apak-pee-o-mee-wanga;" which was plain, to be sure.

Meanwhile the other was industriously fumbling in her boot, and pretty quick drew out a bone image representing a fox, as I have always supposed. This was for me.

"Kina?" I asked.

"Bossuit," was the reply.

This was also pierced with a hole through the neck; and, on my hooking it to my watch-guard, the other girl fell to laughing at her companion, who also laughed a little confusedly, and with a look, which, in a less dusky maiden, might have been a blush. Just what importance they attach to these trinkets and to the wearing of them we could merely guess at.

"I wonder what their names are," said Kit. "How can we find out? Would they understand by our using the word kina, do you suppose?"

"Try it."

Kit then pointed to the one who was talking with me, and said "kina" to the other. She did not seem to understand at first: but, on a repetition of the question, replied, "We-we;" at which her companion looked suddenly around. Then they talked with each other a moment. We-we, as I afterwards learned, meant white goose. I then put the same question to We-we, pointing to the other.

"Caubvick," she replied.

Just then Wade passed us; and, lo! he had a white-gloved damsel on his arm, promenading along the deck as big as life.

"What's her name?" cried Kit.

"Ikewna," he replied over his shoulder.

How he had found out he would never tell us; perhaps in the same manner we had done.

"I declare, Wade's outdoing us!" exclaimed Kit. "But we can promenade too."

I then pointed to Wade and Ikewna, and then to We-we and myself, offering my arm.

"Abb," she said; and we started off.

Kit and Caubvick followed. After all, walking with an Esquimau belle is not so very different from walking with a Yankee girl: only I fancy it must have looked a little odd; for, as I have already stated, they wore long-legged boots with very broad tops coming above the knee, silver-furred seal-skin breeches, and a jacket of white hare-skin (the polar hare) edged with the down of the eider-duck. These jackets had at least one very peculiar feature: that was nothing less than a tail about four inches broad, and reaching within a foot of the ground. I have no doubt they were in style: still they did look a little singular, to say the least.

Meanwhile the others were not idle spectators, judging from the loud talking, yeh-yeh-ing, and unintelligible lingo, that resounded all about. We saw Raed paying the most polite attentions to a very chubby, fat girl with a black fur jacket and yellow gloves.

"What name?" demanded Kit as we promenaded past.

"Pussay," replied Raed, trying to look very sober.

The word pussay means a seal; and in this case the name was not much misplaced. We-we (white goose) was, to my eye, decidedly the prettiest of the lot; Caubvick came next; and, as we promenaded past Wade, we kept boasting of their superior charms as compared with Ikewna. Our two both wore white jackets; while Wade's wore a yellow one, of fox-skin.

"How about refreshments!" cried Wade at length. "We ought to treat them, hadn't we?"

"That's so," said Raed. "Captain, have the goodness to call Palmleaf, and bid him bring up a box of that candy."

The captain came along.

"Didn't you see the rumpus?" he asked.

"Rumpus?"

"Yes; when Palmleaf came on deck just after the women came on board. They were afraid of him. He came poking his black head up out of the forecastle, and rolling his eyes about. If he had been the Devil himself, they couldn't have acted more scared. I had to send him below out of sight, or there would have been a general stampede. The men are afraid of him. I don't understand exactly why they should be."

None of us did at the time; but we learned subsequently that the Esquimaux attribute all their ill-luck to a certain fiend, or demon, in the form of a huge black man. We have, therefore, accounted for their strange fear and aversion to the negro on that ground. They thought he was the Devil,—their devil. So Hobbs brought up the candy. Raed passed it round, giving each of our visitors two sticks apiece. This was plainly a new sort of treat. They stood, each holding the candy in their hands, as if uncertain to what use it was to be put. Raed then set them an example by biting off a chunk. At that they each took a bite. We expected they would be delighted. It was therefore with no little chagrin that we beheld our guests making up the worst possible faces, and spitting it out anywhere, everywhere,—on deck, against the bulwarks, overboard, just as it happened. The most of them immediately threw away the candy; though We-we and Caubvick, out of consideration for our feelings perhaps, quietly tucked theirs into their boot-legs. There was an awkward pause in the hospitalities. Clearly, candy wouldn't pass for a delicacy with them.

"Try 'em with cold boiled beef!" exclaimed the captain.

Luckily, as it occurred, Palmleaf had lately boiled up quite a quantity. It was cut up in small pieces, and distributed among them; and, at the captain's suggestion, raw fat pork was given the men. This latter, however, was much too salt for them: so that, on the whole, our refreshments were a failure. It is doubtful if they liked the cooked meat half so well as they did the raw, reeking flesh of the bear.

By way of making up for the candy failure, we gave them each two common tenpenny nails, and two sticks of hardwood the size we burned in the stove. With these presents they seemed very well pleased, particularly with the wood. But, on finding we were disposed to give, the most of them were not at all modest about asking for more. A general cry of "Pillitay" ("Give me something") arose. We gave them another stick of wood all round; at which their cries were redoubled. In short, they treated us very much as some earnest Christians do the Lord,—asked for everything they could think of. Old Trull was especially pestered by one woman, who stuck to him with a continuous whine of "Pillitay, pillitay!" He had already given her his jack-knife, and now borrowed it to cut off several of the brass buttons on his jacket. But so far was she from being satisfied with this sacrifice, that she instantly began pillitaying for the rest of them. The old man thought that this was carrying the thing a little too far.

"Ye old jade!" he exclaimed, out of all patience. "Ye'd beg me stark naked, I du believe!"

But still the woman with outstretched hand cried "Pillitay!" Finally the old chap in pure desperation caught out his tobacco to take a chew. Eying her a moment, he bit it off, and put the rest in her hand with a grim smile. The woman, following his example, forthwith bit off a piece, and chewed at it for a few seconds, swallowing the saliva; then turned away sick and vomiting. She didn't pillitay him any more.

To the honor of maidenhood, I may add that We-we, Caubvick, Ikewna, and Pussay were exceptions to the general rule of beggary. They asked us for nothing. Something seemed to restrain them: perhaps the attentions we had shown them. Be that as it may, they fared the better for it. Wade led off by giving Ikewna a broad, highly-colored worsted scarf, which he wrapped in folds about her fox-jacket, covering it entirely, and giving her a very distingue look. Not to be behind, Kit and I gave to We-we and Caubvick three yards of bright-red flannel apiece; also a red-and-black silk handkerchief each to wear over their shoulders, and two massive (pinchbeck) breast-pins. These latter articles did make their little piercing black eyes sparkle amazingly.

How long they would have stayed on board, Heaven only knows,—all summer, perhaps,—had not the captain given orders to have the schooner brought round. The moment the vessel began to move, they were seized with a panic, lest they should be carried off from home. The men were over into their kayaks instantly. Having got rid of them, "The Curlew" was again hove to, while the oomiak was brought under the stairs. We bade a hasty farewell to the Husky belles, and handed them into their barge. On the whole, we were not much sorry to be rid of them; for though they were human beings, and some of the young girls not without their attractions, yet it was humanity in a very crude, raw state. In a word, they were savages, destitute to a lamentable extent of all those finer feelings and sentiments which characterize a civilized race. The roughest of our Gloucester lads were immeasurably in advance of them; and Palmleaf, but recently a lash-fearing slave, seemed of a higher order of beings.

They were gone; but they had left an odor behind. We had to keep Palmleaf burning coffee on a shovel all the rest of the evening; and, for more than a month after, we could smell it at times,—a "sweet souvenir of our Husky beauties," as Wade used to put it.

There is something at once hopeless and pitiful about this people. There is no possibility of permanently bettering their condition. Born and living under a climate, which, from the gradual shifting of the pole, must every year grow more and more severe, they can but sink lower and lower as the struggle for existence grows sharper. There is no hope for them. Their absurd love of home precludes the possibility of their emigrating to a warmer latitude. Pitiful! because, where-ever the human life-spark is enkindled, his must be a hard heart that can see it suffering, dying, without pity.



CHAPTER VIII.

The Husky Chief.—Palmleaf Indignant.—A Gun.—Sudden Apparition of the Company's Ship.—We hold a Hasty Council.—In the Jaws of the British Lion.—An Armed Boat.—Repel Boarders!—Red-Face waxes wrathful.—Fired on, but no Bones Broken.

By the time we had fairly parted from our Esquimau friends it was near eleven o'clock, P.M.,—after sunset. Instead of standing out into the straits, we beat up for about a mile along the ice-field, and anchored in thirteen fathoms, at about a cable's length from the island, to the east of the ice-island. The weather had held fine. The roadstead between the island and the main was not at present much choked with ice. It was safe, to all appearance. We wanted rest. Turning out at three and half-past three in the morning, and not getting to bunk till eleven and twelve, made an unconscionable long day. Once asleep, I don't think one of us boys waked or turned over till the captain stirred us up to breakfast.

"Six o'clock, boys!" cried he. "Sun's been up these four hours!"

"Don't talk about the sun in this latitude," yawned Raed. "I can sit up with him at Boston; but he's too much for me here."

While we were at breakfast, Weymouth came down to report a kayak coming off.

"Shall we let him come aboard, sir?"

"Oh, yes!" said the captain.

"Let's have him down to breakfast with us for the nonce!" cried Kit. "Here, Palmleaf, set an extra plate, and bring another cup of coffee."

"And see that you keep out of sight," laughed the captain: "the Huskies don't much like the looks of you."

"I tink I'se look as well as dey do, sar!" exclaimed the indignant cook.

"So do I, Palmleaf," said Raed; "but then opinions differ, you know. These Esquimaux are nothing but savages."

"Dey're berry ill-mannered fellars, sar, to make de best of dem. I wouldn't hev 'em roun', sar, stinkin' up de ship."

"I don't see that they smell much worse than a pack of niggers," remarked Wade provokingly; at which the darky went back to the galley muttering.

"Wade, some of these big negroes will pop you over one of these days," said Kit.

"Well, I expect it; and who'll be to blame for that? We had them under good control: you marched your hired Canadians down among us, and set them 'free,' as you say; which means that you've turned loose a class of beings in no way fit to be free. The idea of letting those ignorant niggers vote!—why, they are no more fit to have a voice in the making of the laws than so many hogs! You have done us a great wrong in setting them free: you've turned loose among us a horde of the most indolent, insolent, lustful beasts that ever made a hell of earth. You can't look for social harmony at the South! Why, we are obliged to go armed to protect our lives! No lady is safe to walk half a mile unattended. I state a fact when I say that my mother and my sisters do not dare to walk about our plantation even, for fear of those brutish negroes."

"I think you take a rather one-sided view, Wade," said Raed.

"It's the only side I can see."

"Perhaps; but there is another side, nevertheless."

Here a tramping on the stairs was heard, and Weymouth came down, followed by a large Esquimau.

"He's been trying to make out to us that he's the chief, boss, sachem, or whatever they call it, of the crowd that was aboard yesterday," said Weymouth.

"What does he want?" the captain asked.

"Wants to chymo."

Raed made signs for him to sit down in the chair at the table and eat with us; which, after some hesitation, he did rather awkwardly, and with a great knocking of his feet against the chairs. He had on a gorgeous bearskin jacket, with the hood drawn over his head. His face was large; his nose small, and nearly lost between the fat billows of his cheeks; his eyes were much drawn up at the corners, and very far apart; and his mouth, a very wide one, was fringed about with stiff, straggling black bristles. The cast of his countenance was decidedly repulsive. Kit made signs for him to drink his coffee; but he merely eyed it suspiciously. I then helped him to a heavy spoonful of mashed potatoes. He looked at it a while; then, seeing us eating of it, plunged in his fingers, and, taking up a wad, thrust it into his mouth, but immediately spat it out, with a broad laugh, all over his plate and over the other dishes, and kept spitting at random.

"De nasty dog!" ejaculated Palmleaf, rushing forward from the galley: "spit all ober de clean plates!"

The savage turned his eye upon the black, and, with a horrible shout, sprang up from his chair, nearly upsetting the table-shelf, and made a bolt for the stairway. We called to him, and followed as quickly as we could: but, before we were fairly on deck, he was over into his kayak, plying his paddle as if for dear life; and the more we called, the faster he dug to it.

Suddenly, as we were looking after him and laughing, the heavy report of cannon sounded from the southward. Looking around, we saw a large ship coming to below the islands, at a distance of about three miles. A thrill of apprehension stole over us. Without a word, we went for our glasses. It was a large, staunch-looking ship, well manned, from the appearance of her deck. As we were looking, the English flag went up. We had expected as much.

"It's one of the Hudson-bay Company's ships," remarked Raed.

"Of course," said Kit.

"Not likely to be anything else," said the captain.

"I suppose you're aware that those fellows may take a notion to have us accompany them to London," remarked Raed.

"If they can catch us," Kit added.

"Persons caught trading with the natives within the limits of the Hudson-bay Company's chartered territory are liable to be seized, and carried to London for trial," continued Raed. "It's best to keep that point well in view. Nobody would suppose that, in this age, the old beef-heads would have the cheek to try to enforce such a right against Americans, citizens of the United States, who ought to have the inside track of everything on this continent. Still they may."