The ice was too far separated now for Taylor either to advance or retreat, and the pan upon which he had taken refuge began a rapid drift seaward. He had made a valiant effort, but the attempt had failed.

Grenfell resumed firing his gun, still hoping that some one might hear it and come to their rescue. Time pa.s.sed and Taylor drifted abreast of Grenfell and finally drifted past him. Then, in the far distance, Grenfell glimpsed the flash of an oar. The flash was repeated with rhythmic regularity. The outlines of a boat came into view. The men shouted the good news to each other. Help was coming!

The signals had been heard, and in due time, and with much thankfulness, Dr. Grenfell and William Taylor were safely in the boat and on their way to St. Anthony.

Not long after his return to St. Anthony, the ice drifted eastward and an open strip of sea appeared leading northward toward the Straits of Belle Isle. The ice was now a full mile off sh.o.r.e, it was the beginning of June, and Dr. Grenfell, expecting that at this late season the Straits would be open for navigation, had the _Strathcona_ made ready for sea at once, and with high hopes, stowed the anchor and steamed northward. It was his plan to have the vessel carry him westward through the Straits and land him at some port on the west coast of Newfoundland where he could take pa.s.sage on the regular mail boat, which he had been advised had begun its summer service. Thence he could continue his trip to New York, where the important meeting had been adjourned several times in expectation of his coming.

But again he was doomed to disappointment. The Straits were found to be packed from sh.o.r.e to sh.o.r.e with heavy floe ice and clogged with icebergs. Before the _Strathcona_ could make her escape she was surrounded by ice and frozen tight and fast into the floe.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "THE HOSPITAL SHIP. STRATHCONA"]

Grenfell was determined to reach New York and attend that meeting. It was supremely important that he do so. Now there was but one way to reach the mail boat, and that was to walk. The distance to the nearest port of call was ninety miles.

Making up a pack of food, cooking utensils, bedding and a suit of clothes that would permit him to present a civilized and respectable appearance when he reached New York, he made ready for the long overland journey. Shouldering his big pack, he bade goodbye to Mrs.

Grenfell, who was with him on the _Strathcona_, and to the crew, and set out over the ice pack to the land.

Three days later Dr. Grenfell reached the harbor where he was to board the mail boat upon her arrival. He was wearied and stiff in his joints after the hard overland hike with a heavy pack on his back, and looking forward to rest and a good meal, he went directly to the home of a mission clergyman living in the little village.

His welcome was hearty, as a welcome always is on this coast. The clergyman showered him with kindnesses. A pot of steaming tea and an appetizing meal was on the table in a jiffy. It was luxury after the long days on the trail and Grenfell sat down with antic.i.p.ation of keen enjoyment.

At the moment that Grenfell seated himself the door opened unceremoniously, and an excited fisherman burst into the room with the exclamation:

"For G.o.d's sake, some one come! Come and save my brother's life! He's bleeding to death!"

Dr. Grenfell learned in a few hurried inquiries that the man's brother had accidentally shot his leg nearly off an hour before and was already in a comatose condition from loss of blood. The family lived five miles distant, and the only way to reach the cabin where the wounded man lay was on foot.

Grenfell forgot all about the steaming tea, the good meal and rest. A moment's delay might cost the man his life. Grenfell ran. Over that five miles of broken country he ran as he had never run before, with the half-frenzied fisherman leading the way.

The wounded man was a young fellow of twenty. Dr. Grenfell knew him well. He was a hero of the world war. He had volunteered when a mere boy, served bravely through four years of the terrible conflict and though he had taken part in many of the great battles he had lived to return to his home and his fishing.

"I never knew a better cure for stiffness than a splendid chance for serving," said Grenfell in referring to that run from the missionary's home to the fisherman's cottage. All his stiff joints and weary muscles were forgotten as he ran.

When Dr. Grenfell entered the room where the man lay, he found the young fisherman soaked with blood and sea water, lying stretched upon a hard table. The remnant of his shattered leg rested upon a feather pillow and was strung up to the ceiling in an effort to stop the flow of blood. He was moaning, but was practically unconscious, and barely alive.

The room was crowded to suffocation with weeping relatives and sympathetic neighbors. Dr. Grenfell cleared it at once. The place was small and the light poor and a difficult place in which to treat so critical a case or to operate successfully. He had no surgical instruments or medicines, and even for him, accustomed as he was to work under handicaps and difficulties, a serious problem confronted him.

The man was so far gone that an operation seemed hopeless, but nevertheless it was worth trying. Grenfell sent messengers far and near for reserve supplies that he had left at various points to be drawn upon in cases of emergency, and in a little while had at his command some opiates, a small amount of ether, some silk for ligatures, some crude subst.i.tutes for instruments, and the supply of communal wine from the missionary's little church, five miles away.

While these things had been gathered in, the flow of blood had been abated by the use of a tourniquet. There was scarcely enough ether to be of use, but with the a.s.sistance of two men Dr. Grenfell applied it and operated.

One of the a.s.sistants fainted, but the other stuck faithfully to his post, and with a cool head and steady hand did Dr. Grenfell's bidding.

The operation was performed successfully, and the young soldier's life was saved through Dr. Grenfell's skillful treatment. Today this fisherman has but one leg, but he is well and happy and a useful man in the world.

Fate takes a hand in our lives sometimes, and plays strange pranks with us. In New York a group of gentlemen were impatiently awaiting the arrival of Dr. Grenfell, while he, in an isolated cottage on the rugged coast of Northern Newfoundland was saving a fisherman's life, and in the importance and joy of this service had perhaps for the time quite forgotten the gentlemen and the meeting and even New York.

Perhaps Providence had a hand in it all. If the water lanes had not closed, and the motor boat had not been damaged, and Dr. Grenfell and William Taylor had not been sent adrift on the ice, and no obstacles had stood in the way of Dr. Grenfell's journey to New York, and the _Strathcona_ had not been frozen into the ice pack, in all probability this brave young soldier and fisherman would have died. There is no doubt that _he_ believes G.o.d set the stage to send Dr. Grenfell on that ninety-mile hike.

XXIII

REINDEER AND OTHER THINGS

Hunting in a northern wilderness is never to be depended upon.

Sometimes game is plentiful, and sometimes it is scarcely to be had at all. This is the case both with fur bearing animals and food game. So it is in Labrador. When I have been in that country I have depended upon my gun to get my living, just as the Indians do. One year I all but starved to death, because caribou and other game was scarce. Other years I have lived in plenty, with a caribou to shoot whenever I needed meat.

In Labrador the Eskimos and liveyeres rely upon the seals to supply them with the greater part of their dog feed, supplemented by fish, cod heads and nearly any offal. The Eskimos eat seal meat, too, with a fine relish, both cooked and raw, and when the seals are not too old their meat, properly cooked, is very good eating indeed for anybody.

The Indians rely on the caribou, or wild reindeer, to furnish their chief food supply, and to a large extent the caribou is also the chief meat animal of the liveyeres.

Sometimes caribou are plentiful enough on certain sections of the coast north of Hamilton Inlet. I remember that in January, 1903, an immense herd came out to the coast north of Hamilton Inlet, They pa.s.sed in thousands in front of a liveyere's cabin, and standing in his door the liveyere shot with his rifle more than one hundred of them, only stopping his slaughter when his last cartridge was used.

From up and down the coast for a hundred miles Eskimos and liveyeres came with dogs and komatik to haul the carca.s.ses to their homes, for the liveyere who killed the animals gave to those who had killed none all that he could not use himself, and none was wasted.

That was a year of plenty. Oftener than not no caribou come within reach of the folk that live on the coast, and in these frequent seasons of scarcity the only meat they have in winter is the salt pork they buy at the trading posts, if they have the means to buy it, together with the rabbits and grouse they hunt, and, in the wooded districts, an occasional porcupine. Now and again, to be sure, a polar bear is killed, but this is seldom. Owls are eaten with no less relish than partridges, and lynx meat is excellent, as I can testify from experience.

But the smaller game is not sufficient to supply the needs and it occurred to Doctor Grenfell that, if the Lapland reindeer could be introduced, this animal would not only prove superior to the dog for driving, but would also furnish a regular supply of meat to the people, and also milk for the babies.

The domestic reindeer is a species of caribou. In other words, the caribou is the wild reindeer. The domestic and the wild animals eat the same food, the gray caribou moss, which carpets northern Newfoundland and the whole of Labrador, furnishing an inexhaustible supply of forage everywhere in forest and in barrens. The Lapland reindeer had been introduced into Alaska and northwestern Canada with great success. They would thrive equally well in Labrador and Newfoundland.

With this in mind Doctor Grenfell learned all he could about reindeer and reindeer raising. The more he studied the subject the better convinced he was that domesticated reindeer introduced into Labrador would prove a boon to the people. He appealed to some of his generous friends and they subscribed sufficient money to undertake the experiment.

In 1907 three hundred reindeer were purchased and landed safely at St.

Anthony, Newfoundland. With experienced Lapland herders to care for them they were turned loose in the open country. For a time the herd grew and thrived and the prospects for complete success of the experiment were bright.

It was Doctor Grenfell's policy to first demonstrate the usefulness of reindeer in Newfoundland, and finally transfer a part of the herd to Labrador. The great difficulty that stood in the way of rearing the animals in eastern Labrador was the vicious wolf dogs. It was obvious that dogs and reindeer could not live together, for the dogs would hunt and kill the inoffensive reindeer just as their primitive progenitors, the wolves, hunt and kill the wild caribou.

Because of the dogs, no domestic animals can be kept in eastern Labrador. Once Malcolm MacLean, a Scotch settler at Carter's Basin, in Hamilton Inlet, imported a cow. He built a strong stable for it adjoining his cabin. Twelve miles away, at Northwest River, the dogs one winter night when the Inlet had frozen sniffed the air blowing across the ice. They smelled the cow. Like a pack of wolves they were off. They trailed the scent those twelve miles over the ice to the door of the stable where Malcolm's cow was munching wild hay. They broke down the stable door, and before Malcolm was aware of what was taking place the cow was killed and partly devoured.

For generations untold, Labradormen have kept dogs for hauling their loads and the dogs have served them well. They were not willing to subst.i.tute reindeer. They knew their dogs and they did not know the reindeer, and they refused to kill their dogs. To educate them to the change it was evident would be a long process.

In the meantime the herd in Newfoundland was growing. In 1911 it numbered one thousand head, and in 1912 approximated thirteen hundred.

Then an epidemic attacked them and numbers died. Following this, illegitimate hunting of the animals began, and without proper means of guarding them Doctor Grenfell decided to turn them over to the Canadian Government.

During those strenuous years of war, when food was so scarce, a good many of the herd had been killed by poachers. Perhaps we cannot blame the poachers, for when a man's family is hungry he will go to lengths to get food for his children, and Doctor Grenfell recognized the stress of circ.u.mstances that led men to kill his animals and carry off the meat. The epidemic, as stated, had proved fatal to a considerable number of the animals, and the herd therefore was much reduced in size. The remnant were corralled in 1918, and shipped to the Canadian Government at St. Augustine, in southern Labrador, where they are now thriving and promise marvelous results.

Some day Doctor Grenfell's efforts with reindeer will prove a great success at least in southern Labrador, where the dogs are less vicious, and play a less important part in the life of the people than on the eastern coast. Upon these thousands of acres of uncultivated and otherwise useless land the reindeer will multiply until they will not only feed the people of Labrador but will become no small part of the meat supply of eastern Canada. His introduction of reindeer into southern Labrador will be remembered as one of the great acts of his great life of activity. Their introduction was the introduction of an industry that will in time place the people of this section in a position of thrifty independence.

There never was yet a man with any degree of self-respect who did not wish to pay his own way in the world. Every real man wishes to stand squarely upon his own feet, and pay for what he receives. To accept charity from others always makes a man feel that he has lost out in the battle of life. It robs him of ambition for future effort and of self-reliance and self-respect.

Doctor Grenfell has always recognized this human characteristic. It was evident to him when he entered the mission field in Labrador that in seasons when the fisheries failed and no fur could be trapped a great many of the people in Labrador and some in northern Newfoundland would be left without a means of earning their living. There are no factories there and no work to be had except at the fisheries in the summer, trapping in winter and the brief seal hunt in the spring and fall. When any of these fail, the pantries are empty and the men and their families must suffer. But most of the people are too proud to admit their poverty when a season of poverty comes to them. They are eager for work and willing and ready always to turn their hand to anything that offers a chance to earn a dollar.

To provide for such emergencies Grenfell, many years ago, established a lumber camp in the north of Newfoundland, and at Canada Bay in the extreme northeast a ship building yard where schooners and other small craft could be built, and nearly everyone out of work could find employment.

In southern and eastern Labrador, where wood is to be had for the cutting, he arranged to purchase such wood as the people might deliver to his vessels. In return for the wood he gave clothing and other supplies.

Then came mat and rug weaving, spinning and knitting and basket making. Through Grenfell's efforts volunteer teachers went north in summers to teach the people these useful arts. He supplied looms.

Every one was eager to learn and today Labrador women are making rugs, baskets and various saleable articles in their homes, and Grenfell sells for them in the "States" and Canada all they make. Thus a new means of earning a livelihood was opened to the women, where formerly there was nothing to which they could turn their hand to earn money when the men were away at the hunting and trapping.