Bobby of the Labrador

If I may call you friend, I wish you this-- No gentle destiny throughout the years; No soft content, or ease, or unearned bliss Bereft of heart-ache where no sorrow nears, But rather rugged trouble for a mate To mold your soul against the coming blight, To train you for the ruthless whip of fate And build your heart up for the bitter fight.

If I may call you friend, I wish you more-- A rare philosophy no man may fake, To put the game itself beyond the score And take the tide of life as it may break; To know the struggle that a man should know Before he comes through with the winning hit, And, though you slip before the charging foe, To love the game too well to ever quit.

GRANTLAND RICE.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

I The Boat That Came Down from the Sea

II The Mystery and Bobby

III Skipper Ed and His Partner

IV Over a Cliff

V The Rescue

VI With Passing Years

VII The Wolf Pack

VIII The Battle

IX The Fishing Places

X A Foolhardy Shot

XI When the Iceberg Turned

XII Adrift on the Open Sea

XIII How the Good and Sure Brought Trouble

XIV Visions in Delirium

XV Marooned in an Arctic Blizzard

XVI A Snug Refuge

XVII Prisoner on a Barren Island

XVIII The Winter of Famine

XIX Off to the Sena

XX Jimmy's Sacrifice

XXI Who Was the Hero?

XXII A Storm and a Catastrophe

XXIII It Was God's Will

XXIV Under the Drifting Snow

XXV A Lonely Journey

XXVI Cast Away on the Ice

XXVII A Struggle for Existence

XXVIII The Ships That Came Down to the Ice

XXIX In Strange Lands

XXX The Mystery Cleared

ILLUSTRATIONS

It was plain that retreat was hopelessly cut off Frontispiece

"Hurry, Jimmy. I can't hang here much longer. I'm getting all numb"

Quick as a flash Bobby raised his gun to his shoulder

They ran by the side of the komatik to keep warm

"I was hunting," explained Bobby. "The ice broke loose and cut Jimmy, and me off from Skipper Ed"

Bobby of the Labrador

CHAPTER I

THE BOAT THAT CAME DOWN FROM THE SEA

Abel Zachariah was jigging cod. Cod were plentiful, and Abel Zachariah was happy. It still lacked two hours of mid-day, and already he had caught a skiffload of fish and had landed them on Itigailit Island, where his tent was pitched.

Now, as he jigged a little off shore, he could see Mrs. Abel Zachariah, the yellow sunshine spread all about her, splitting his morning catch on a rude table at the foot of the sloping rocks. Above her stood the little tent that was their summer home, and here and there the big sledge dogs, now idle and lazy and fat, sprawled blissfully upon the rocks enjoying the August morning, for this was their season of rest and plenty.

With a feeling of deep content Abel drew in his line, unhooked a flapping cod, returned the jigger to the water, and, as he resumed the monotonous tightening and slackening of line, turned his eyes again to the peaceful scene ashore.

Mrs. Abel in this brief interval had left the splitting table and had ascended the sloping rock a little way, where she now stood, shading her eyes with her right hand and gazing intently seaward. Suddenly she began gesticulating wildly, and shouting, and over the water to Abel came the words:

"Umiak! Umiak!" (A boat! A boat!)

Abel arose deliberately in his skiff, and looking in the direction in which Mrs. Abel pointed discovered, coming out of the horizon, a boat, rising and falling upon the swell. It carried no sail, and after careful scrutiny Abel's sharp eyes could discern no man at the oars. This, then, was the cause of Mrs. Abel's excitement. The boat was unmanned--a derelict upon the broad Atlantic.

A drifting boat is fair booty on the Labrador coast. It is the recognized property of the man who sees it and boards it first. And should it be a trap boat he is indeed a fortunate man, for the value of a trap boat is often greater than a whole season's catch of fish.