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NORTHWARD HO!

E have had such a hot summer that we ought to be grateful to Mr. Horden for letting us go with him on his journeys among the icebergs. Last month we were together at Rupert's Bay. Now we are bound further North; and if any boy of the Green Book Company wishes for more adventures than those which the Missionary has to meet with in bringing his message to the Indians, he had better take lodgings on the North Pole at once, and send us an account of himself by the first post.

And now to the North, to the frozen sea, to the Iceberg's home! My work done at Rupert's House, I left that place on Monday, July 5th, hoping that before another Sabbath dawned I should be at Fort George. My way lay along the sea-coast. My vessel was neither a large nor good canoe. For some hours we had the sea very rough, and at noon we came up with a number of Indians, with whom we took dinner, and directly afterwards we all went on together. The wind was fair, but light. The Bay was dotted with rocky islands, high above the heads of which Sherik's Mount raised its venerable head, while our dozen canoes, all under sail, formed a very pleasant picture.

Towards evening, we all put ashore at the foot of Sherik's Mount, where we found two more families of Indians, so that I had quite a large congregation. The next day we arrived at East Main River, where formerly the Hudson Bay Company had an establishment; and up this river almost all the Indians went, and we saw no others until we reached Fort George. Our voyage was a very prosperous one, as we met with no detention from bad weather, our only annoyance, but that a very great one, quite equal to a large bundle of other annoyances, being Mosquitoes. Whenever we approached within half a mile of the shore they came to us in clouds, and those tough northerners seemed particularly venomous and voracious.

At one o'clock p.m. on Friday, the 9th, I stepped ashore at Fort George, most cordially welcomed by a fellowcountrywoman, a lady from London, the wife of the officer in charge of the Fort. I found plenty of work here; and, as I expected to remain for a few days, I lost no time, but

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set about it at once. The Indians were most attentive, and I never held a service which was not attended by a large congregation.

This continued until Wednesday, when I started, this time in a schooner named the "Fox," for Great Whale River, which I hoped to reach by Sunday. But I was to be sadly disappointed. We had not proceeded many miles before our troubles commenced. Bump, bump, bump! What can this be? Ah! I see Ice, ice, ice! And had it contented itself with giving us three bumps only we should not have cared much, and the "Fox" would have laughed at such opposition. But the "Fox," that is the Fox's Captain's face, became very grave when blow after blow was given to her sides. Even the seals poked up their almost human heads to see what was the matter, and what all the noise was about.

The "Fox," however, keeps bravely on, and more than a third of the voyage is accomplished. But what is it now? Yes, what is it? The ice has been playing with us only as yet, and now it is in downright earnest. It stretches away as far as the eye can reach. No water is visible; and, with a strong wind blowing, the Fox is too sagacious to contend any longer. So turning his tail to it, back he flies with astonishing rapidity, making no halt until within a few miles of Fort George, when down goes the anchor, and on Saturdav I again find myself at Fort George.

We left again on Monday for another attempt, and were for days battling with the ice. On Saturday, July 24th, we got up to Cape Jones, the sea full of ice, further progress impossible. We were obliged to return some distance to a place of safety, and here we remained perfectly quiet on the icy sea all the Sabbath until late in the evening, having our services on deck. In the evening the anchor was raised, and we went forward a little way; and on Monday morning we were well round the Cape, the wind fair, the sky bright, the Captain happy and sanguine. We were sailing among islands, and our old enemy not much in sight. Cruel disappointment! The wind chops round suddenly, down falls our Captain's countenance, down come the sails, down goes the anchor, and down go our hearts with it. Yet something must be done. Provisions were getting short: so, taking two native sailors with me, I left the schooner in a small boat. We did not progress very fast, for the wind was against us; and when we encamped on the sterile shore we were scarcely out of

sight of the schooner. What a night we had! In my small canvas marquee were myself, the sailors, and an Esquimaux. Down came the rain in torrents, the wind roared incessantly, the lightning was the most vivid I have ever witnessed, the thunder the loudest I have ever heard. It calmed somewhat towards morning and we set off, the wind now being fair, but rather too strong for our little boat.

All went well until the afternoon, when the sea became almost as dry land. The sail is useless, the oars lie idly by, and the hands grasp the axe and the pole. We must cut our way through the ice. Sometimes we were in the boat, sometimes on the ice, pushing, chopping, driving, according to circumstances. At last we succeeded in coming up to an Indian encampment, where we found our Fort George friends, who like ourselves were bound for Great Whale River. We spent the night with them, and in the morning, assisted by the tide, we all went forward until breakfast time, when I left the boat, and went with my Indian teacher, Keshkumash, and his wife in their small canoe. Two other canoes, each containing a man and his wife, accompanied us.

We went bravely on for a while, but by and by the old enemy prevailed, bidding us learn patience. My companions, not one of whom could speak any English, were very cheerful, and their great aim seemed to be to shield me from harm and save me from fatigue; indeed, I could not but frequently laugh at their excessive care of me. We encamped early and at a spot where there was a probability of fish being caught; and the setting of nets and making a tent occupied some time. We generally succeeded in making ourselves comfortable: indeed those days were very happy ones.

Our worst day was our last, Friday, July 30th. For some hours we could scarce make any progress whatever. We were chopping, lifting, carrying our canoes over the rocks and the ice, and it seemed as if our strength were expended for nought. But by and by the tide came and helped us on. A little after noon, however, we were entirely stopped. Having taken a very scanty dinner, for our provisions were all but expended, I told Keshkumash that I would now walk to Great Whale River. He looked at me critically, for the purpose of estimating my strength, and after a while said, Perhaps you can do it, but you will find it very hard