""What could have brought us here, then? The skipper surely doesn't know where we are?”

"I'll tell you what has brought us here. There's a current from the Gulf Stream sets into this bay at seven or eight knots the hour, and brings in all the floating ice along with it-- There, am I right? Do you hear that?"

'As he spoke, a tremendous crash, almost as loud as thunder, was heard at our bow; and as I rushed to the bulwark and looked over, I beheld vast fragments of ice more than a foot thick, incrusted with frozen snow, flying past us in circling eddies; while farther on the large flakes were mounting, one above the other, clattering and crashing as the waves broke among them. Heaven knows how much farther our mulish Cumberland skipper would have pursued his voyage of discovery had not the soundings proclaimed but five fathom water. Our sails were now backed; but as the current continued to bear us along, a boat was got out, and an anchor put in readiness to warp us astern; but by an unhappy accident the anchor slipped in lowering over the side, stove in the boat, and of the four poor fellows who were under it, one was carried under the ice and never seen again. This was a bad beginning, and matters now appeared each moment more threatening. As we still continued to drift with the current, a boweranchor was dropped where we were, and the vessel afterwards swung round head to wind, while the ice came crashing upon the cutwater, and on the sides, with a noise that made all else inaudible. It was found by this time that the water was shoaling, and this gave new cause for fear; for if the ship were to touch the ground, it was clear all chance of saving her was at an end.

'After a number of different opinions were given and canvassed, it was determined that four men should be sent ashore in the yawl to find out some one who knew the pilotage of the bay; for we could descry several log-huts along the shore, at short distances from one another. With my officer's permission, I obtained leave to make

one of this party, and I soon found myself tugging away at the bow-oar through a heavy surf. After rowing about an hour, the twilight began to fall, and we could but faintly perceive the outline of the ship, while the log-huts on shore seemed scarcely nearer than at the moment when we quitted the vessel. By this time large fields of ice were about us on every side; rowing was no longer possible, and we groped along with our boat-hooks, finding a channel where we could avoid the floating masses.

The peril of this proceeding grew with every moment. Sometimes our frail boat would be struck with such force as threatened to stave in every plank; sometimes she was driven high upon a piece of ice, from which it took all our efforts to extricate her; while, as we advanced, no passage presented itself before us, but flake upon flake of frozen matter, among which were fragments of wrecks and branches of trees, mixed up together. The sailors, who had undertaken the enterprise against their will, now resolved they would venture no farther, but make their way back to the ship while it was yet possible. I alone opposed this plan. To return, without at least having reached the shore, I told them, would be a disgrace; the safety of all on board was in a manner committed to our efforts, and I endeavoured by every argument to induce them to proceed. To no purpose did I tell them this; of no use was it that I pointed out the lights on shore, which we could now see moving from place to place, as though we had been perceived, and that some preparations were making for our rescue. I was outvoted; back they would go; and one of them, as he pushed the boat's head round, jeeringly said to me

"Why, with such jolly good footway, don't you go yourself? You'll have all the honour, you know.”

'The taunt stung me to the quick, the more as it called forth a laugh from the rest. I made no answer, but seizing a boat-hook, sprang over the side upon a large mass of ice. The action drove the boat from me. I heard them

call to me to come back; but come what would, my mind was made up. I never turned my head, but with my eyes fixed on the shore-lights I dashed on, glad to find that with every stroke of the sea the ice was borne onwards towards the land. At length the sound of the breakers ahead made me fearful of venturing farther, for as the darkness fell I had to trust entirely to my hearing as my guide. I stood then rooted to the spot, and as the wind whistled past, and the snowdrift was borne in eddying currents by me, I drove my boat-hook into the ice, and held on firmly by it.

'Suddenly through the gloom a bright flash flared out, and then I could see it flitting along, and at last I thought I could mark it directing its course towards the ship. I strained my eyes to their utmost, and in an ecstasy of joy I shouted aloud, as I beheld a canoe manned by Indians, with a pine torch blazing in the prow. The red light of the burning wood lit up their wild figures as they came along, now carrying their light bark over the fields of ice, now launching it into the boiling surf; and thus, alternately walking and sailing, they came at a speed almost inconceivable. They soon heard my shouts, and directed their course to where I stood; but the excitement of my danger, the dreadful alternations of hope and fear thus suddenly ceasing, so stunned me that I could not speak as they took me in their arms and placed me in the bottom of the canoe.

'Of our course back to shore I remember little. The intense cold, added to the stupefaction of my mind, brought on a state resembling sleep; and even when they lifted me on land, the drowsy lethargy clung to me; and only when I found myself beside the blaze of a wood fire, did my faculties begin to revive, and, like a seal under the rays of the sun, did I warm into life once more. The first thing I did when morning broke was to spring from my resting-place beside the fire, and rush out to look for the ship. The sun was shining brilliantly; the bay lay calm as a mirror before me, reflecting the tall

mountains and the taper pines; but the ship was gone, not a sail appeared in sight. And now I learned that when the tide began to make, and she was enabled to float, a land-breeze sprang up, which carried her gently out to sea, and that she was in all likelihood by that time some thirty miles in her course up the St. Lawrence. For a moment my joy at the deliverance of my companions was unchecked by any thought of my own desolate condition; the next minute I remembered myself, and sat down upon a stone, and gazed out upon the wide waters with a sad and sinking heart.'

CHAPTER VIII

THE SMUGGLER'S STORY (concluded)

'LIFE had presented too many vicissitudes before me to make much difference in my temperament, whatever came uppermost. Like the gambler, who if he lose to-day goes off consoling himself that he may be a winner to-morrow, I had learned never to feel very acutely any misfortune, provided only that I could see some prospect of its not being permanent; and how many are there who go through the world in this fashion, getting the credit all the while of being such true philosophers, so much elevated above the chances and changes of fortune, and who, after all, only apply to the game of life the same rule of action they practise at the rouge et noir table!

'The worthy folks among whom my lot was now cast were a tribe of red men called the Gaspé Indians, who among other pastimes peculiar to themselves followed the respectable and ancient trade of wreckers, in which occupation the months of October and November usually supplied them with as much as they could do; after that, the ice closed in on the bay, and no vessel could pass up or down the St. Lawrence before the following spring.

'It was for some time to me a puzzle how people so completely barbarous as they were possessed such com

fortable and well-appointed dwellings; for not only had they log-huts well jointed and carefully put together, but many of the comforts of civilised life were to be seen in the internal decorations. The reason for this I at length learned from the chief, in whose house I dwelt, and with whom I had already succeeded in establishing a sworn friendship.

'About fifteen years previous, this bay was selected by a party of emigrants as the locale of a settlement. They had been wrecked on the island of Anticosti themselves, and made their escape to Gaspé with such remnants of their effects as they could rescue from the wreck. There they built houses for themselves, made clearings in the forest, and established a little colony, with rules and regulations for its government. Happily for them, they possessed within their number almost every description of artificer requisite for such an undertaking, their original intention being to found a settlement in Canada; and thus carpenters, shoemakers, weavers, tailors, millwrights being all ready to contribute their aid and assistance to one another, the colony made rapid progress, and soon assumed the appearance of a thriving and prosperous place. The forest abounded in wild deer and bears, the bay was not less rich in fish, while the ground, which they sowed with potatoes and Indian corn, yielded most successful crops; and as the creek was never visited by sickness, nothing could surpass the success of their labours.

'Thus they lived, till in the fall of the year a detachment of the Gaspé Indians, who came down every autumn for the herring-fishery, discovered that their territory was occupied, and that an invading force were in possession of their hunting-grounds. The result could not be doubted; the red men returned home to their friends with the news, and speedily came back again with reinforcements of the whole tribe, and made an attack upon the settlement. The colonists, though not prepared, soon assembled, and being better armed, for their firearms and cutlasses had all been