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December 25, 1912 ] T X X 1
man he was trying to save, and then?yes, then,
odd as it would have seemed to him at any other
time?without feeling mean he asked God
to save his own life. He thinks now, had it not
been for the trust of his companion's life, he
might never have learned the lesson of that
night?a lesson he firmly believes that storm
was sent for, and for which he has lived to
heartily thank a Father of love in Heaven for
teaching him. He still puts it in the half
fatalistic way of the country, "I s'pose my time
had not yet come, doctor." But the sense of a
personal God really watching over the affairs
of men hnd hpinin to mnlro a nom mo?.
0 - ?~Vi uuu.
In the dark hours before dawn there was a
sudden lull in the wind, the sea dropped quickly,
and before the splendid sunrise broke over
the exquisite tracery of the hills the hurricane
had gone as suddenly as it came. After chaf*
ing the limbs and rubbing the body of his
charge until he saw signs of returning life, Anthony
carried and drove him back to the boat,
where he laid him down in his own oilcoat until
he could beat the ice off the boat's sides and
bottom, and once more make her manageable.
Hidden under bulks of seaweed and other
debris he was able to find, alongshore, pieces
of two of the now dilapidated paddles, sufficiently
large for a man of his caliber to venture
the passage home with. After much effort
he succeeded in effecting a launch, getting his
companion into the boat. After a weary journey
he reached his own shore, where he had
long been spied by his anxious wife from the
lookout. It had been such an experience as
he never wanted to renew; but he now confessed
that, taken with other of life's happenings,
it had been honestly worth while.
BACK TO TEMPT FATE ANEW.
A week had gone by. Both men were so
thoroughly recovered that one would have supposed
they had forgotten their hard experience.
It was now once more time to cross the run
and examine the traps they had tailed on the
island; and as good signs of foxes had been apparent
where they had set, Anthony, nothing
loth, proposed another journey to Sandy point.
They were all in-need enough, God knows, of
some reinforcements to the larder. But if this
were true for Anthony it was ten times more
true for his companion. Chesley's family at
home was a large one, and his father's credit
at the store, thirty miles away, had "not reached
beyond dry flour," so that while he himself
was getting butter and molasses, he was anximifi
AnAii r*V* a Ka * v
ut auic iu vany suineunng nome
to his parents and the family. This was his
first "winter out"; and, full of high hopes, he
had begun work determined to play the man
in the eyes of those loved ones who were in
such dire need.
The events of the last round of his traps had
had the effect on Anthony of making him absolutely
certain of a watchful care over his life.
But, strange to say, exactly the same circumstance
had so preyed on the mind of the young,
er man that he flatly refused again to venture
the journey. The more Anthony insisted the
m nro aL * *
?w? uuvuiiuiucu was me reiusai?and the day
ended with Chesley's abruptly leaving the house
altogether, after resigning all interest in the
traps, traveling on foot to the mainland which
he was now able to reach on the ice, and doggedly
holding on his way until he arrived penniless
at his father*8 door.
DESERTED BY HIS DISHEARTENED COMRADE.
Anthony felt he had nothing to blame himself
for. He had reasoned and ordered, all to
no purpose. The outcome was that now he
was left alone, to all appearances unable to pursue
his only method of earning a livelihood.
His wife had not yet found out the true state
*ft?SB?TEEIAN OF THE SO
of affairs. She supposed that Chesley would
return in the morning, and that at least her
husband would not have to add to his inevitable
risks the perils of going these long distances
alone. Anthony remembered that she
knew how her own uncle had come by his death
two years before, by some fit or seizure while
away with his dogs; the grewsome story of how
the dogs had returned some time later without
him, and that only when the snow had gone
in the spring his half eaten body had been
found, was not likely to be forgotten. Anthony
did not dare suggest to her what he
knew was now the only course open to him.
All the next day he himself still kept silence,
hoping against hope that Chesley might
return. He dreaded asking his wife to let
him depart alone, though he had, like most of
our men, absolutely no fear about going. But
on the second day the real truth dawned upon
him. He would be alone for the winter now,
and must either go by himself or starve.
Screwing his courage to its utmost limit, he
at length told his wife; expecting that a scene
would follow that would make his determination
impossible to put into practice. He confesses
that in this dilemma he had forgotten
again the good hand of his God upon him. For
it took him utterly by surprise when his wife
seemed to welcome his decision. Indeed, she
had already begun to pack up his outfit and
put nis tmngs together, almost before he had
done explaining his reasons.
He had now, he confesses, yet another lesson
to learn; and that lesson, too, will stand
him in good stead yet, I'm sure. His brave
young wife had read him like an open book.
She had solved his unspoken riddle, and?
showing a courage to my view far superior to
his own?with a smile on her face but an awful
load at her heart bade him do as he
judged best. He had partly learned what trust
in God meant to him; he now realized what
the same trust could do for another.
BRAVING DEATH ALONE AMID THE RESISTLESS ICE.
As he left the land in the old punt, however,
he knew that it was a heavy heart he left be
?j v. ?i- ?
mi,!u 111hi -f uuu xie uiu not iau vo ieei tnat a
pair of anxious eyes were watching him from
the eyrie as once again he skillfully sought to
drive his little craft between the large
"growler" forms of ice that swept endlessly
through the tickle. So much had this feeling
told on him that, when he eventually landed
and hauled his punt up over the ice barricades
which had piled up on Sandy point in the few
days since he was last there, he had ceased to
expect anything worth while in the traps. The
whole world seemed somehow cruel and relentless;
and as he wended his way alone to
trap after trap along the desolate sides of that
bleak island and found one after another emp-,
ty once again life seemed to him to be a blank.
His apathy was, however, half dispelled when
he came to the seventh station. His trap, set
here on the top of a heavy stump?driven into
the ground to prevent its being iced over?had
disappeared. The chain had apparently snapped
near the peg and whatever had been in it
had gone away also; while the driven snow
that had fallen the previous nights had obliterated
all trace of the direction in which the
quarry had carried it. Carefully he blew away
the surface of the snow, as in ever-widening
circles he eagerly scanned the ground for some
faint trace that might supply to his keen eyes
evidences as to which way to start in pursuit.
But all to no purpose. The snow, packed as
hard as adamant by the wind, had obliterated
everything. Now thoroughly discouraged, he
tramped along to the next and last post, about
a mile and a quarter farther on.
15 T H I" " (1395) 5
THE DISCOVEHY OK THE HARD-SOUGHT QUARRY.
A tiny dark speck some hundred yards out
of the path had not escaped his keen sight, but
it had until that moment appeared like the hundred
and one other snags and stone tops that
protruded through the snow on every side.
Suddenly it seemed to move. At first he
thought it must be his eyes deceiving him. But
no; it did move, as a reed shaken in the wind.
In considerably less than a minute, his gun unslung
and cocked, Anthony was standing, his
eyes staring, his heart bounding, over a tuft of
black hair protruding through the general level
of the snow.
It was a fox, truly?a silver fox! The first
silver that had ever fallen to his share! Poor
beast, there was no need to shoot. Amid all
the wild sense of triumph now coursing through
every fiber of his body, he could not help feeling
it had found the fate he and his friend
had so recently and so narrowly escaped?with
a trap on two of its feet it had frozen to death
on the island.
It was this valuable fox that now lay on the
kitchen floor of the little kitchen. "It's mine,
Bessie!" he almost shouted. "Mine, all mine,
every hair of it! And I've no shareman. What
will Chesley say now for having run away
and left me? It would have meant everything
to those children?a diet for the whole winter."
As he was speaking the ice was melting off
the glossy skin. What a beauty it was! No
tracing 01 tne long hairs, as there would have
been in a spring-caught fox; no thin mane from
hair falling off as it pushed through bushes; no
faded fur from a February or March sun. No.
It was a real large dog silver fox, in prime season?dark
to the shoulders, mane like a lion,
and a pure white mixed with the black, that
told him it would fetch $500 if it fetched a dollar.
Five hundred dollars! A new sail for the
schooner, a new mooring chain that she needed
so badly, tinned milk, a new rifle, a proper boat
for his cod trap, a fleet of new salmon nets,
enough twine to put the old seal nets in order,
visions of plenty of everything dear to the soul
of a Labrador trapper and fisherman!
THE FINAL LESSON OF SACRIFICE.
But Chesley?what of Chesley and the family?
Anthony had yet one lesson to learn. He
had to learn what real faith in God means. It
does not mean singing. It does not mean praying.
"Not every one that saith Lord, Lord,
shall ontoi* l?i 3 ~? i ? "
.v. uiw ma niii^uuiii nere on eann, or
hereafter in Heaven." Into that kingdom
which is righteousness, joy, and peace in believing,
entrance comes only of doing the will
of our Father which is in Heaven.
"Dear Anthony," said a quiet voice by his
side, as he stood silently thinking over his good
fortune, "it will be good to get a new sail. How
lovely the little Daryl will sail, and she'll bring
you back safely to me, and with the new mooring
chain I shall have no fear when the wind
blows, and you are away on the voyage to the
Hudson Bay post. But, Anthony dear, there is
something which you will love better than that.
Let's get the dogs harnessed up and start right
away, and we will have the best part of all.
You will, won't you? And we'll drive right
over and tell Chesley that half the fox belongs
to him."
Without a word of argument Anthony went
out and called the dogs.
For to Anthony had come at last?as it must
often come to many of us also, through humiliation
and suffering, the lesson of Christmas
that God would have all mankind learn.?The
One evil of a bad habit is that a person given
to it loses in measure the power to distinguish
between good and bad.