The other Eskimoes rowing our boat sang with him, until we reached the "Harmony."

We were having a quiet time of cheerful converse in the cabin, when the sound of singing again called us on deck. A procession of eight or ten boats, the bow of one almost touching the stern of the other, was rowing slowly round and round the ship, and the people in them were singing sweet Christian songs to the measured beat of the oars. Sarah was in the first boat, evidently the leader and director of the proceedings.[C] Hymn after hymn, in well-sustained parts, sounded beautifully over the still water, and not till it was getting quite dark did they row away, singing "Victoria," _i.e._ "G.o.d save the Queen," in honour of the English visitor. Her Majesty has very loyal subjects in that unknown corner of her realm; and, by the way, some of them charged me to bring home an "Aksunai" to her, too.

_Tuesday, September 25st._--Yes, "good-bye;" yet, when your vessel is not a steamer, but dependent on the wind, you may have repeated "good-byes," as often happens in Labrador. Not till this afternoon could the "Harmony" hoist her sails and speed away to the broad Atlantic. As soon as the Eskimoes saw our sails being unfurled, they again came around the vessel in their boats, and anew commended us to the Divine protection in their version of a very favourite hymn of Count Zinzendorf's ("Jesu geh voran").

"Jesus, day by day, Guide them on their way."

HOMEWARD BOUND.

The story of our homeward voyage must he told in short. We had more stormy days than bright ones, and more contrary winds than fair breezes. We left Hebron on Tuesday, September 25th, and on the following Sunday found ourselves among Greenland icebergs and fogs. So we had to turn southwards and run on that tack for two days. Then a moderate side wind followed the strong contrary gale, and we made good steady progress eastward. This was undoubtedly pleasant after the heavy rolling and pitching of the previous days. For two weeks and more nothing was to be seen but sea and sky, yet both had their interest and beauty. The sunsets were lovely, and the phosph.o.r.escent light in the water at night especially so. The wake of the ship was luminous for a long distance, and the crests of the waves shone all around us. Once I was leaning over the taffrail late in the evening, when a shoal of fish pa.s.sed. There were thousands of them, and each one was a living, moving centre of light. Bottle-nosed whales gambolled around us when we were within a few hundred miles of Labrador, and later on "schools" of porpoises occasionally visited us.

The latter often sprang clean out of the water, and seemed to take special delight in crossing the bows of the "Harmony." On October 10th, we sighted the first ship since leaving Labrador, and a day or two later tacked southward near the coast of Ireland to make the entrance of the British Channel. There a trial of patience awaited us.

A hard-hearted east wind barred our progress, and with long tacks we seemed to make headway only by inches. Yet the little "Harmony"

bravely held on her way, when larger vessels had given up the fight.

_Sunday, October 21st._--Up at six, to find the Scilly Isles in sight.

The Bishop's rock and St. Agnes lighthouses were plainly visible. But the old east wind is back again. The light, fair breeze of yesterday evening sent us forward fifteen miles in an hour or two, and seventy or eighty miles of tacking to-day has barely secured as much progress.

Visited the men in the forecastle, a small gloomy looking place, yet fair as such accommodation goes. The good fellows are cheery and happy there, indeed, they have been pleasant and faithful to duty throughout the entire voyage. G.o.d grant them the true blessedness we have told them of in this morning's and previous Sunday services.

_Monday, 22nd._--Weathered the Wolf Rock by this tack. Sighted Land's End, with its white houses, and the Longships lighthouse on its lofty rock. A steamer pa.s.sing us into Penzance answered our signals and will report us we hope.

_Tuesday, 23rd._--Four weeks away from Labrador. Four months absent from home. How much longer yet? To windward of the Lizard this morning. That is good, for we could have run for Falmouth harbour had it blown harder from the east. But the wind has died away altogether.

The Lizard twin lighthouses and the white walls surrounding them are plainly visible, as we lie becalmed.

_Wednesday, 24th._--Got a fair wind yesterday, which carried us forward past the Eddystone Lighthouse. We are now nearing Start Point, and have shown our signals. They will be seen, and reported either at that lighthouse or at Prawle Point, and it is quite a relief to think our presence in the Channel will soon be known in London. What a contrast there is between our own sh.o.r.es and the coast of Labrador.

_Here_ one is never out of sight of some guiding light, _there_ not a lighthouse--not a buoy. Such a voyage makes one the more thankful for the experience and faithfulness of our own valued ship's officers, tried servants of the Society for the Furtherance of the Gospel, who have the interests of that society and of the mission at heart, and whose annual voyages to Labrador involve a full share of responsibility and anxiety.

_Thursday, 25th._--Pa.s.sed the Isle of Wight this morning, and Beachy Head in the afternoon. As night came on the long rows of electric lights on the marine parades of Eastbourne, Hastings, and St.

Leonard's were very effective across the water. Got our pilot aboard at Dungeness just before midnight.

_Friday, 26th._--_Home again!_ How infinitely good is the gracious Lord, who permits one to go on His errands, and meanwhile takes care of all that is so dear! We were off Margate when I went on deck, about 7 A.M., and shortly afterwards secured a powerful little tug, which towed the "Harmony" swiftly up the Thames to London Docks, where she now lies at her usual moorings, awaiting the hundred and twentieth voyage.

"Then, at the vessel's glad return, The absent meet again; At home, our hearts within us burn To trace the cunning pen, Whose strokes, like rays from star to star, Bring happy messages from far, And once a year to Britain's sh.o.r.e Join Christian Labrador."

I lay down the pen which has transcribed those lines of Montgomery's as a fitting close to my chapter, "Homeward Bound." If it has had any "cunning," it has been simply because I have described what I have seen with my own eyes in Christian Labrador. Traversing nearly three hundred miles of that grand, but bleak and desolate-looking coast, I met with scarcely any heathen. Only at Ramah I found one or two who had no Christian names, because they had not yet publicly professed Christ. They were, however, candidates for baptism, and their few heathen countrymen to the north of that station are, from time to time, attracted to the sound of the Gospel. But if the mission in that land be nearing the close of the evangelistic phase, our task is not done, and still we hear the voice of the Divine Spirit saying: Separate me this one and that one for the work whereunto I have called him in Labrador.

Yet I hope and pray for a wider result from these pages than increased interest in the one field so closely connected with Britain by the good ship "Harmony." Labrador in its turn is linked to all the mission provinces in the world-wide parish given to the little Moravian Church, and I trust this glimpse into the life and labours of our devoted missionaries there will quicken the loving intercessions of my readers for their fellow labourers in all our own fields, and for the whole great mission work of the Church of Christ.

I will conclude with a stirring stanza[D] from another poet, who found a theme and an inspiration in contrasting the wretched condition of the people of Labrador, prior to the arrival of missionaries, with the wonderful change wrought among the poor Eskimoes through their n.o.ble efforts under the blessing of G.o.d.

"When round the great white throne all nations stand, When Jew and Gentile meet at G.o.d's right hand, When thousand times ten thousand raise the strain-- 'Worthy the Lamb that once for us was slain!'

When the bright Seraphim with joy prolong Through all eternity that thrilling song-- The heathen's universal jubilee, A music sweet, O Saviour Christ, to Thee-- Say, 'mid those happy strains, will not _one_ note,-- Sung by a hapless nation once remote, But now led Home by tender cords of love, Rise clear through those majestic courts above?

Yes! from amid the tuneful, white-robed choirs, Hymning Jehovah's praise on golden lyres, _One_ Hallelujah shall for evermore Tell of the Saviour's love to LABRADOR."

[Ill.u.s.tration]

G. NORMAN & SON, PRINTERS, HART STREET, COVENT GARDEN.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote C: For those who may be interested to know what hymns were chosen, and what tunes were sung (without accompaniment), by the natives on this occasion, I will append the numbers in our new English Hymn Book, as far it contains their selection, 646, 788, 755, 834, and 1135. The melodies included our Tunes 132, 26, 69, 205, 166, and 146.]

[Footnote D: _Labrador, a Poem in three parts_, written to commemorate the centenary of the Moravian Labrador Mission, by B. TRAPP ELLIS.]

THE "HARMONY."

Captain: HENRY LINKLATER.

Length (Extreme) 120 ft.

Breadth 27-1/2 "

Depth 15 " 4 in.

Length of Mast 87 "

Tonnage 251 tons.

_Launched, April 24th, 1861._

The average duration of the _outward_ voyage with the present vessel has been 41-1/4 days, including a short stay at Stromness in the Orkneys. The _homeward_ voyage has been accomplished on an average in 23 days, including the coa.r.s.e up channel to the West India Dock. The whole voyage, including the stay on the coast and visit to six stations there, has averaged 117-3/4 days.

THE TEMPERATURE OF LABRADOR.

At Hopedale, the most southerly of our mission stations, thermometrical observations during several years give + 86 Fahrenheit as the greatest heat (July 26, 1871), -104, or 72 below freezing point, Fahrenheit, as the greatest cold (February 2nd, 1873). The average temperature for the year is -5 F. For four years the month of July was the only one in which there was not a fall of snow. The average temperature of Edinburgh, which lies in about the same degree of lat.i.tude as Hopedale, is + 47 F. At the Hospice of St. Bernard in the Alps, which is situated at an elevation of 7192 feet above the level of the sea, the average temperature for the year is not quite -3 F. There winter and spring are much less cold, summer and autumn much less warm than in Labrador.