of whom there were fewer.  While engaged 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-flesh was
packed on 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 intoxicated 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 "Eeduck" 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 igloo of
Annatock, where it was cut up and distributed among the natives.  The
women seemed quite frantic with joy, and went about from hut to hut
embracing 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
gormandising and rejoicing as savages are wont to do when suddenly
visited with plenty in the midst of starvation.

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 sympathise with the undoubted and 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 Eeduck'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 remarkably 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 remember 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 regardless of the morrow.

This day was signalised 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 behind, 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 intended to return to the camp.  While
he was thus employed, along with a dozen or more of his countrymen,
Peetoot came running towards him, saying that he thought he saw a seal
lying on the ice far ahead.  Having 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 proceeded more than a few paces when
his eye became riveted 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 hummocks of the sea
carried them out of sight of their companions, but did not bring them up
with the animal of which they were in chase.  At length Peetoot halted,
and stooped to scrutinise 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.

The elder Esquimau cast a doubtful glance at his nephew, while he
lowered the point of his spear and seemed to hesitate; but the boy did
not wait.  Levelling his spear, he uttered a wild shout and ran towards
the animal, which instantly turned towards the approaching 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 Annatock 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 the animal turned to
fall upon its insignificant enemy.  In doing so its left shoulder was
fully exposed to Annatock, who, with a dart like lightning, plunged his
spear deep into its heart.  A powerful shudder shook the monster'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 satisfaction; while Peetoot laughed, and
shouted, and danced around it like a maniac.  How long he would have
continued 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 instituted 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
important 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 waterproof 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 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 the
world over, and on more than one occasion, having ventured to run over
the igloos, were caught in the act by the thrusting of a leg now and
then through the roofs thereof, to the indignation 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.

Edith 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, partially cooked, to avoid doing violence to her own
prejudices, and very much under-done in order to suit the Esquimau
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 igloo 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.  The whiteness of the snow
of which this princely mansion and its offices were composed was not
much altered on the exterior; but in the interior a long winter of
cooking and stewing and general filthiness had turned the walls and
roofs quite black.  Being somewhat lazy, Peetoot 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 igloo.  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
consumed 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, cracked 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 igloos, and
pitch their skin tents on a spot a little to the southward of their
wintering 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 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 hunters 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 circumstances, 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.

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 it 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 THIRTY TWO.

EDITH WAXES MELANCHOLY, BUT HER SADNESS IS SUDDENLY TURNED INTO JOY; AND
THE ESQUIMAUX RECEIVE A SURPRISE, AND FIND A FRIEND, AND LOSE ONE.

The 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 tempest 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 recognised 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 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.

"O 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, always 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 recovered.  These bursts of grief never
lasted long, for the child was strong in hope.  She never doubted that
deliverance 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 observed 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.

"Eeduck!  Eeduck!" he cried, pointing to one of the oomiaks which the
women were launching, "you go kill whale--funny; yes, Eeduck."

"I 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 oomiak 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 prosecuted 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 grey-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 Esquimau.

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 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 dragging 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 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
realised; 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 probably 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.

"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 hearing 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 possessed, talking vehemently all the
while, and indulging 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 deer's-meat to the dogs.  Your father gave us the boat; `for,' says
he, `Prince, it'll 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.

"`That's a queer-lookin' seal,' says Gaspard.

"`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 mercifully 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,
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 o' medal on this chap's neck with
somethin' written on it.  You're 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."

"I 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.  Howsoever, 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 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 preparation 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
delight; 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 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
with which all its former exhibitions 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 THIRTY THREE.

THE CLOUDS ARE BROKEN, THE SUN BURSTS THROUGH AND ONCE MORE IRRADIATE
PORT CHIMO--HOPES AND FEARS FOR MAXIMUS.

The 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 today?  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 _ought_ to be here by this time."

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 yesterday'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 dommage--
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 employments 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 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, 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 assistance.  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, Gaspard, 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.

"I 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."

Stanley looked grave.  "I fear much," said he, "that some mischance has
befallen the good-hearted Esquimau.  He was well armed, you say, and
amply supplied 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.

"I'll 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
themselves, 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 unnecessary.  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 THIRTY FOUR.

ROUGH AND TUMBLE--A POLAR BEAR MADE USEFUL--FISHING AND FLOUNDERING, AND
NARROW ESCAPES--AN UNEXPECTED DISCOVERY, PRODUCTIVE OF MINGLED
PERPLEXITY AND JOY.

"You 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 ptarmigan
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.

"Oolibuck 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 drawing 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 encamp on the ice;
there is no use in wearying the dogs, and ourselves in uncertainty; what
think you, lads?'

"`Me t'ink 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 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 process of digging through the ice,
I resolved to try an experiment which I had once heard had been
attempted with success.  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
excellent 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, `my countrymen
fish in igloo when blow hard.  Pr'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 prepared 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 igloo that day, as we sat round the hole in the floor with eager,
excited looks.  I confess, however, that I left the work principally 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 perplexed by the chains of small lakes into which we came.  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 endeavouring 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 this end.  Away we went then, and,
as I had expected, were soon led to the river, down the banks of which
we scrambled, over rocks and crags, through bushes and snow, until we
came to the coast at Richmond Gulf.

"But it took us many weeks to accomplish the journey 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
advanced--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 obstructing
barrier burst like a thunderclap, and the pent-up waters leaped with one
mighty roar into their accustomed channel!  The devastation created was
inconceivably 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
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 walking 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 before we got back to the shore the
poor fellow's garments were frozen so stiff that he could not run.

"`This is a bad job, Maximus,' said I; `we must carry him.  Do you lift
his head, and I'll take the feet.'

"`Oh be queek!  I is frizzen up,' cried Oolibuck, casting 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 towards 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, 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 interesting parts of his
narrative--"now I come to that part of my story which bears on the fate
of Maximus.

"As I have said, we had arrived at the coast, and began 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
calculation, 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 civilised spot of ground or a single
road--not so much as a 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 continues, `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, 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-looking old rascal, though I must
say he received us hospitably 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' baccy 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
countenance, 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.

"`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.'

"`I is here,' said Maximus, outside the tent.

"`Ah! that's right.--Now, Old Moggy, 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?'

"`I 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 Moggy's wigwam stood at the distance of several hundred yards from
the other tents of the 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 feeling of great delight
filled my heart as I looked upon the couple thus unexpectedly reunited;
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
occurred 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
inquiringly 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.

"In 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
exaggerated 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
objection, 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 listen to their proposals.  One of these lovers was absent on
a hunting expedition at the time we discovered 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.'

"I 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, powerful
fellow, of about my own size.

"`Come,' said I to his assembled comrades, in the Indian language, for I
found they understood my bad 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 myself.'  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 fine spring day, and the back of his
sealskin coat, shining 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.

"I will not weary you just now," continued Frank, "with the details of
my subsequent journeying, 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 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 dispatches, 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 THIRTY FIVE.

A STIRRING PERIOD IN THE LIFE OF MAXIMUS.

Intermingled joy and sorrow is the lot of man.  Thus it has ever been;
thus, no doubt, it shall continue 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 seashore.  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 resolved that they should
travel during the night, and rest and cook their food during the
daytime, when a fire would not be so likely to attract attention if
kindled in 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 paddled 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 following 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 Moggy 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 assented, 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 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 paralysed.  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 mingle the Esquimau hurled his captors right and left, and
sprang to his feet.  The Indians fled; but one, who was 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
approaching 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 insensible
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 impossible 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 Aneetka 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 echoing 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 grey 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 of Meestagoosh.
For an instant he cast a look of mingled 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 understand 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 proceeded two paces an Indian laid his hand
on her arm, and led her back to where the old woman sat.  Meestagoosh
led Maximus to the same spot, and having confronted 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.  "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 dog 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-cry of women and
children.  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 into execution.

"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 Indians are men, but
Esquimaux are dogs."

While this conversation was going on, and the Indians 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 open hand, which nearly
stunned her.  Staggering backward, 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 recovered, 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
sheltering 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 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 had 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 comrades in the rear.  This sudden
repulse effectually checked the Indians, who are notoriously bad at
storming.  Indeed 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 formed
in a line, and loading their guns, fired volley after volley into the
cave's mouth.  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 pass
the tree against which leaned the two guns belonging to her friends.
They had escaped notice during the _melee_ 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
overlooked 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 descended 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.  Moggy was now in despair.  She knew that it
would be impossible 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 frequent repetition,
were understood by Maximus to mean that he was to expose himself to the
view of the Indians.  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 reload, 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 distance 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.  Maximus 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 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 remainder 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.

"I 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 favourite; 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 Moggy, who had
no tender reminiscences or feelings in regard to the dog, proceeded
quietly and significantly 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 cry of the dog to good account, although he had little
hope of saving 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 to show 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 reverberations 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, at 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 continuous
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
considerably 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 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
directions with noiseless 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 darkness favoured the fugitives for a few seconds, and
enabled 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 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 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 immersed
in the water, was dragged away from shore.  A yell of anger, and, soon
after, a desultory discharge of firearms, 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 THIRTY SIX.

HAPPY MEETINGS AND JOYOUS FEASTINGS--LOVE, MARRIAGE, DESERTION,
DESOLATION, AND CONCLUSION.

After 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 pursued their arduous
journey, living from hand to mouth on the produce of their guns, nets,
seal-spears, and fishing-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 intercourse 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 Esquimaux 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 rejoicing their hearts with sweet sounds.  On that day a
small band of Indians had arrived with a rich and unusually 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 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
unexpected return of Maximus, yelled and screamed and threw about their
arms in a manner that defies description.

"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--eh?"

"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 swimming, for the canoe instantly
darted ahead.  However, he was close on the heels of Maximus.

"Give him a chare, bays," 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 toward Stanley and Frank and grasped them warmly by
the hands, while his huge face beamed with emotion.

"I hope that's your wife you've brought with you, Maximus," said
Stanley.

"I 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, regardless 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,
I'd swear it was herself."

At this point Massan stepped forward and took Maximus 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, 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.

Scarcely 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 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.  Its 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
sunburnt 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, heartfelt reality in it.
Their sympathy 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.

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 garments 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 _tail_
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
exhibited 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 cannot 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 that had been experienced; and through the goodness of
God, all those who composed the original band of the "forlorn hope" were
reunited, 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 Highlander, 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 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 command to advance.  A vessel was sent
out to remove the goods, and in a brief space of time Fort Chimo was
dismantled and deserted.

The Esquimaux and Indians soon tore down and appropriated 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 reunited.

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
appalling 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, 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 realise or blast his hopes for ever.  As he
approached the villa, however, he experienced a sensation of emptiness
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 disappeared 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 preparatory 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 clattering 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 permitted 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.

"O 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 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, beloved
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.

"Halo! whence came this charger?" shouted a hale, hearty voice, as
Stanley walked towards the bower.  "Eh! what have we here?" he
exclaimed, rushing forward 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.  Unwonted fire
nerved the youth's limbs; with one bound 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 appointed 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 shooting 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
cry, to rise no more.  He was a noble specimen of his class--a brave,
modest, unobtrusive son of the forest, beloved 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 Indians also returned to a purely savage life, which, indeed,
they had only forsaken for a time.  Augustus and Oolibuck died; and the
latter left a son, who has already rendered good service as interpreter
to the arctic expeditions, as his worthy father did before him.
Francois and Gaspard are still together at one of the posts of the
interior.  They are now fast friends, and have many a talk over the days
when they quarrelled and messed together 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 childlike
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 the souls of
these poor natives during their brief intercourse with the traders.  We
cannot tell, and we refrain from guessing or speculating 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 Moggy,
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 Esquimaux was
in reality a greater man than his fellows supposed him to be.  He fully
appreciated the advantages 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 grave 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 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.