"All right, sir," acquiesced the mate, "but," he asked, "th' crew's all away exceptin' th' cook, an' who'll look after things here if we both goes t' once?"

"We kin leave the cook alone fer one day I guess. If any o' th'

livyeres come he kin keep 'em till we comes back in th' evenin'."

The arrangements were therefore made for the hunt, and the following morning bright and early they were off.

At sunrise there was a slight westerly breeze blowing, and the skipper suggested,

"Th' wind might stiffen up a bit an' we better keep an eye to it."

They were well back in the hills before the predicted stiffening came to such an extent that they decided it was wise to return to the shack.

Skipper Sam and his mate were not accustomed to land travelling and the hurried retreat soon winded them and they were held down to so slow a walk that the afternoon was half spent and the wind had grown to a gale when they finally came in view of the harbour. Skipper Sam was ahead, and when he looked towards the place where the _Maid of the North_ had been snugly held in the ice in the morning he rubbed his eyes. Then he looked again, and exclaimed:

"By gum!"

The harbour was clear of ice and nowhere on the horizon was the _Maid of the North_ to be seen. The gale had swept the ice to sea and carried with it the _Maid of the North_ and all her valuable cargo.

The cook, asleep in his bunk in the shack, was quite unconscious of the calamity when the skipper roused him to demand explanations.

But there were no explanations to be given. The schooner was gone, that was all, and Captain Sam Hanks and his crew were stranded upon the coast of Labrador.

XXIII

THE HAND OF PROVIDENCE

Bob and his companions were indeed in a most desperate situation, and even they, accustomed and inured as they were to the vicissitudes and rigours of the North, could see no possible way of escape. Men of less courage or experience would probably have resigned themselves to their fate at once, without one further effort to preserve their lives, and in an hour or two have succ.u.mbed to the bitter cold of the storm. But these men had learned to take events as they came largely as a matter of course, and they did not for a moment lose heart or self-control.

The dogs were driven a little farther towards the interior of the ice, for if the pack were to break up the outer edge would be the first to go. Here immediate preparations were made to camp.

There was no bank from which snow blocks could be cut for an igloo, and the blinding snow so obscured their surroundings that they could not so much as find a friendly ice hummock to take refuge behind. The gale, in fact, was so fierce that they could scarce hold their feet against it, and had they released their hold of the komatik even for an instant, it is doubtful if they could have found it again.

The deerskin sleeping bags were unlashed and the sledge turned upon its side. In the lee of this the bags were stretched upon the ice and with their skin clothes on they crawled into them. Each called "Oksunae"--be strong--have courage--to the others, and then drew his head within the folds of his skin covering.

Bob wore the long, warm coat that Manikawan had made for him, and as he snuggled close into the bag he thought of her kindness to him, and he dreamed that night that he had gone back and found her waiting for him and looking just as she did the morning she waved him farewell, as she stood in the light of the cold winter moon--tall and graceful and comely, with the tears glistening in her eyes.

The dogs, still in harness, lay down where they stood, and in a little while the snow, which found lodgment against the komatik, covered men and dogs alike in one big drift and the weary travellers slept warm and well regardless of the fact that at any moment the ice might part and they be swallowed up by the sea.

The storm was one of those sudden outbursts of anger that winter in his waning power inflicts upon the world in protest against the coming spring supplanting him, and as a reminder that he still lives and carries with him his withering rod of chastis.e.m.e.nt and breath of destruction. But he was now so old and feeble that in a single night his strength was spent, and when morning dawned the sun arose with a new warmth and the wind had ceased to blow.

The men beneath the snow did not move. It was quite useless for them to get up. There was nothing that they could do, and they might as well be sleeping as wandering aimlessly about the ice field.

The dogs, however, thought differently. They had not been fed the previous night, and bright and early they were up, nosing about within the limited area afforded them by the length of their traces. One of them began to dig away the snow around the komatik. He paused, held his nose into the drift a moment and sniffed, then went vigorously to work again with his paws. Soon he grabbed something in his fangs. The others joined him, and the snarling and fighting that ensued aroused Bob and the sleeping Eskimos.

Aluktook was the first to throw off the snow and look out to see what the trouble was about Then he shouted and jumped to his feet, kicking the dogs with all his power. Bob and Netseksoak sprang to his aid, but they were too late.

The dogs had devoured every sc.r.a.p of food they had, save some tea that Bob kept in a small bag in which he carried his few articles of dunnage.

This was a terrible condition of affairs, for though they were doubtless doomed to drown with the first wind strong enough to shatter the ice, still the love of living was strong within them, and they must eat to live.

Separating and going in different directions, the three hunted about in the vain hope that somewhere on the ice there might be seals that they could kill, but nowhere was there to be seen a living thing--nothing but one vast field of ice reaching to the horizon on the north, east and south. To the west the water sparkled in the sunlight, but no land and no life, human or otherwise, was within the range of vision.

After a time they returned to their bivouac and then drove the dogs a little farther into the ice pack to a high hummock that Aluktook had found, and with an axe and snow knives cut blocks of ice from the hummock and snow from a drift on its lee side, and finally had a fairly substantial igloo built. This they made as comfortable as possible, and settled in it as the last shelter they should ever have in the world, as they all firmly believed it would prove.

They were now driven to straits by thirst, but there was not a drop of water, save the salt sea water, to be had.

"We'll have to burn the komatik," said Aluktook.

Netseksoak knocked two or three cross-bars from it and built a miniature fire, using the wood with the greatest possible economy, and by this means melted a kettle of ice, and Bob brewed some tea.

The warm drink was stimulating, and gave them renewed ambition. They separated again in search of game, but again returned, towards evening, empty handed.

"Too late for seals," the Eskimos remarked laconically.

All were weak from lack of food, and when they gathered at the igloo it was decided that one of the dogs must be killed.

"We'll eat Amulik, he's too old to work anyway," suggested Netseksoak.

Amulik, the dog thus chosen for the sacrifice, was a fine old fellow, one of Netseksoak's dogs that had braved the storms of many winters.

The poor brute seemed to understand the fate in store for him, for he slunk away when he saw Netseksoak loading his gun. But his retreat was useless, and in a little while his flesh was stored in the igloo and the Eskimos were dining upon it uncooked.

Though Bob was, of course, very hungry, he declined to eat raw dog meat, and to cook it was quite out of the question, for the little wood contained in the komatik he realized must be reserved for melting ice, as otherwise they would have nothing to drink. Another day, however, and he was so driven to the extremes of hunger that he was glad to take his share of the raw meat which to his astonishment he found not only most palatable but delicious, for there is a time that comes to every starving man when even the most vile and putrid refuse can be eaten with a relish.

The dog meat was carefully divided into daily portions for each man.

Some of it, of course, had to go to the remaining animals, to keep them alive to be butchered later, if need be, for this was the only source of food the dest.i.tute men had.

Every day Bob and the Eskimos wandered over the ice, hoping against hope that some means of escape might be found. Bob realized that nothing but the hand of Providence, by some supernatural means, could save him now. Again, he said,

"Th' Lard this time has sure been losin' track o' me. Maybe 'tis because when He were showin' me a safe trail over th' hills I were not willin' t' bide His time an' go that way, but were comin' by th' ice after th' warnin' at Kangeva."

But he always ended his musings with the comfortable recollection of his mother's prayers. Which had helped him so much before, and this did more than anything else to keep him courageous and brave.

The days came and went, each as empty as its predecessor, and each night brought less probability of escape than the night before.

Another dog was killed, and a week pa.s.sed.

The komatik wood was nearly gone, although but one small fire was built each day, and the end of their tea was in sight.

This was the state of affairs when Bob wandered one day farther to the southward over the pack ice than usual, and suddenly saw in the distance a moving object. At first he imagined that it was a bit of moving ice, so near was it to the colour of the field. This was quite impossible, however, and approaching it stealthily, he soon discovered that it was a polar bear.

The animal was wandering leisurely to the south. Bob carried the rifle that Mr. MacPherson had given him, as he always did on these occasions, and keeping in the lee of ice hummocks, that he might not be seen by the bear, ran noiselessly forward. Finally he was within shooting distance and, raising the gun, took aim and fired.

Perhaps it was because of weakness through improper food, or possibly as the result of too much eagerness, but the aim was unsteady and the bullet only grazed and slightly wounded the bear.

The brute growled and turned to see what it was that had struck him.

When it discovered its enemy it rose on its haunches and offered battle.