Davis, and Butts. These three were struggling on and panting loudly while their comrades danced about, clapped their mittened hands and shouted, "Now then, Sam !-go in and win, Joe!-Butts for ever!" and such like encouraging cries.

To the surprise of every one Davy Butts came off the winner, and for many a day after that enjoyed the warm coat which he said his long legs had gained for him.

This effort of the captain to cheer the men was very successful, so he resolved to follow it up with an attempt at private theatricals. Accordingly, the thing was proposed and heartily agreed to. Next day every one was busy making preparations. Tom Gregory agreed to write a short play. Sam Baker being the healthiest man on board was willing to act the part of an invalid old lady, and Jim Crofts consented to become a gay young doctor for that occasion.

Meanwhile the captain arranged a piece of real work, for he felt that the attempt to keep up the spirits alone would not do. They had been for a long time living on salt provisions. Nothing could restore the crew but fresh meat-yet fresh meat was not to be had. The walrus and deer were gone, and although foxes and bears were still around them they had failed in all their attempts to shoot or trap any of these animals. A visit to the Eskimo camp, therefore (if such a camp really

existed) became necessary; so, while the theatricals were in preparation, a small sledge was rigged up, Gregory and Sam Baker were chosen to go with him; the dogs were harnessed, and, on a fine starry forenoon, away they went to the south at full gallop with three hearty cheers from the crew of the brig, who were left in charge of the first mate.

The journey thus undertaken was one full of risk. It was not known how far distant the natives might be, or where they were likely to be found. The weather was intensely cold. Only a small quantity of preserved meat could be taken-for the rest, they trusted in some measure to their guns. But the captain's great hope was to reach the Eskimo village in a day or two at the farthest. If he should fail to do so, the prospect of himself and his crew surviving the remainder of the long winter was, he felt, very gloomy indeed.

Success attended this expedition at the very beginning. They had only been eight hours out when they met a bear sitting on its haunches behind a hummock. "Hallo look out!" cried Gregory on catching sight of him. "Fire, lads," said the captain, "I'm not quite ready." Gregory fired and the bear staggered. Baker then fired and it fell!

This was a blessing which filled their hearts so full of thankfulness that they actually shook hands with each other and then gave vent to three hearty

cheers.

Their next thoughts were given to their comrades in the Hope.

"You and Baker will camp here, Tom," said the captain, "and I will return to the brig with a sledge-load of the meat. When I've put it aboard I'll come straight back to you. We'll keep a ham for ourselves, of course. Now, then, to

work."

A hind leg of

To work the three men went. the bear was cut off, the rest was lashed firmly on the sledge, and the dogs enjoyed a feed while this was being done. Then the captain cracked his whip. "Good-bye, lads," "Good-bye, captain," and away he and the dogs and sledge went, and were soon lost to view among the hummocks of the frozen sea.

CHAPTER IX.

A VISIT TO THE ESKIMOS-WONDERFUL DOINGS

THE

A MYSTERY.

HE proceedings of this sledge-party were so interesting that I give them in the words of Tom Gregory's journal :

"Sunday. We have indeed cause to rejoice and to thank God for His mercies this morning. Last night we shot a bear, and the captain is away with the carcase of it to our poor scurvy-smitten friends in the Hope. This Sunday will be a real day of rest for me and Sam Baker, though our resting-place is a very queer one. After the captain left us, we looked about for a convenient place to encamp, and only a few yards from the spot where we killed the bear we found the ruins of an old Eskimo hut made partly of stones partly of ice. We set to work to patch it up with snow, and made it perfectly air-tight in about two hours.

"Into this we carried our bear-skins and things, spread them on the snowy floor, put a lump of bear's fat into our tin travelling lamp, and pre

pared supper. We were not particular about the cookery. We cut a couple of huge slices off our bear's ham, half roasted them over the lamp and began. It was cut, roast, and come again, for the next hour and a half. I positively never knew what hunger was until I came to this savage country! And I certainly never before had any idea of how much I could eat at one sitting !

"This hearty supper was washed down with a swig of melted snow-water. We had some coffee with us but were too tired to infuse it. Then we blocked up the door with snow, rolled our bearskins round us, and were sound asleep in five minutes.

"Lucky for us that we were so careful to stop up every hole with snow, for, during the night, the wind rose and it became so intensely cold that Baker and I could scarcely keep each other warm enough to sleep, tired though we were. At this moment my fingers are so stiff that they will hardly hold the pencil with which I write, and the gale is blowing so furiously outside that we dare not open the door. This door, by the way, is only a hole big enough to creep through. The captain cannot travel to-day. He knows we are safe, so I will not expect him. I have brought my small Testament with me. It has hitherto been my constant travelling companion. provided with mental food. But in

I am thus truth I shall