Under the Great Bear. Munroe Kirk

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СКАЧАТЬ recently dropped anchor was again broken out. Then, at a sharp order, David hoisted and trimmed the jib, leaving Cabot to cat the anchor. The fore and main sails had not been lowered. Thus within two minutes' time the schooner was again under way, and standing across the harbour towards the big warship.

      The rapidity of these movements apparently somewhat bewildered the French officer, who, while narrowly watching them, did not utter a word of remonstrance. Now, as the "Sea Bee" moved away, his boat was started in the same direction.

      Without paying any further attention to it, White Baldwin luffed his little craft across the frigate's bow, and the moment he was hidden beyond her, bore broad away, passing close along the opposite side of the warship, from which hundreds of eyes watched his movements with languid curiosity.

      The boat, in the meantime, had headed for the stern of the frigate, with a view to gaining her starboard gangway, somewhere near which its officer supposed White to be already anchoring. What was his amazement, therefore, as he drew within the shadow of his ship, to see the schooner shoot clear of its further side, and go flying down the wind, lee rail under. For a moment he looked to see her round to and come to anchor. Then, springing to his feet, he yelled for her to do so; upon which White Baldwin took off his cap, and made a mocking bow.

      At this the enraged officer whipped out a revolver, and began to fire wildly in the direction of the vanishing schooner, which, for answer, displayed a British Union Jack at her main peak. Three minutes later the saucy craft had rounded a projecting headland and disappeared, leaving the outwitted officer to get aboard his ship at his leisure, and make such report as seemed to him best.

      After the exciting incident was ended, and the little "Sea Bee" had gained the safety of open water, Cabot grasped the young skipper's hand and shook it heartily.

      "It was fine!" he cried, "though I don't see how you dared do it. Weren't you afraid they would fire at us?"

      "Not a bit," laughed White. "They didn't realise what we were up to until we were well past them, and then they hadn't time to get ready before we were out of range. I don't believe they would dare fire on the British flag, anyway; especially as we hadn't done a thing to them. I almost wish they had, though; for I would be willing to lose this schooner and a good deal besides for the sake of bringing on a war that should drive the French from Newfoundland."

      "But what did they want of you, and what would have happened if you had not given them the slip?"

      "I expect they wanted to hold me here until they heard how our case had gone, so that I couldn't get back to the factory before they had a chance to run up there and seize it. Like as not they would have kept us on one excuse or another—lack of papers or something of that sort—for a week or two, and by the time they let us go some one else would have owned the Pretty Harbour lobster factory."

      "Would they really have dared do such a thing?" asked Cabot, to whom the idea of foreign interference in the local affairs of Newfoundland was entirely new.

      "Certainly they would. The French dare do anything they choose on this coast, and no one interferes."

      "Well," said Cabot, "it seems a very curious situation, and one that a stranger finds hard to understand. However, so long as the French possess such a power for mischief, I congratulate you more than ever on having escaped them. At the same time I am disappointed at not being able to land at St. Pierre, and should like to know where you are going to take me next."

      "I declare! In my hurry to get out of that trap, I forgot all about you wanting to land," exclaimed White, "and now there isn't a place from which you can get to St. Johns short of Port aux Basques, which is about one hundred and fifty miles west of here."

      "How may I reach St. Johns from there?"

      "By the railway across the island, of which Port aux Basques is the terminus. A steamer from Sidney, on Cape Breton, connects with a train there every other day."

      "Very good; Port aux Basques it is," agreed Cabot, "and I shan't be sorry after all for a chance to cross the island by train and see what its interior looks like."

      So our young engineer continued his involuntary voyage, and devoted his time to acquiring all sorts of information about the great northern island, as well as to the study of navigation. In this latter line of research he even succeeded in producing a favorable impression upon David Gidge, who finally admitted that it wasn't always safe to judge a man from his appearance, and that this young feller had more in him than showed at first sight.

      While thus creating a favorable impression for himself, Cabot grew much interested in the young skipper of the schooner. He was surprised to find one in his position so gentlemanly a chap, as well as so generally well informed, and wondered where he had picked it all up.

      "Are there good schools at Pretty Harbour?" he asked, with a view to solving this problem.

      "There is one, but it is only fairly good," answered White.

      "Did you go to it?"

      "Oh, no," laughed the other. "I went to school as well as to college in St. Johns. You see, father was a merchant there until he bought a great tract of land on the west coast. Then he gave up his business in the city and came over here to establish a lobster factory, which at that time promised to pay better than anything else on the island. He left us all in St. Johns, and it was only after his death that we came over here to live and try to save something from the wreck of his property. Now I don't know what is to become of us; for, unless one is allowed to can lobsters, there isn't much chance of making a living on the French shore. If it wasn't for the others, I should take this schooner and try a trading trip to Labrador, but mother has become so much of an invalid that I hate to leave her with only my sister."

      "What is your sister's name?"

      "Cola."

      "That's an odd name, and one I never heard before, but I think I like it."

      "So do I," agreed White; "though I expect I should like any name belonging to her, for she is a dear girl. One reason I am so fond of this schooner is because it is named for her."

      "How is that?"

      "Why, it is the 'Sea Bee,' and these are her initials."

      It was early on the second morning after leaving St. Pierre that the "Sea Bee" drifted slowly into the harbour of Port aux Basques, where the yacht-like steamer "Bruce" lay beside its single wharf. She had just completed her six-hour run across Cabot Strait, from North Sidney, eighty-five miles away, and close at hand stood the narrow-gauge train that was to carry her passengers and mails to St. Johns. It would occupy twenty-eight hours in making the run of 550 miles from coast to coast, and our lad looked forward to the trip with pleasant anticipations.

      But he was again doomed to disappointment; for while the schooner was still at some distance from the wharf, the train was seen to be in motion. In vain did Cabot shout and wave his cap. No attention was paid to his signals, and a minute later the train had disappeared. There would not be another for two days, and the young engineer gazed about him with dismay. Port aux Basques appeared to be only a railway terminus, offering no accommodation for travellers, and presenting, with its desolate surroundings, a scene of cheerless inhospitality.

      "That's what I call tough luck!" exclaimed White Baldwin, sympathetically.

      "Isn't it?" responded Cabot; "and what I am to do with myself in this dreary place after you are gone, I can't imagine."

      "Seems to me you'd better stay right where you are, and run up the coast with us to St. George's Bay, where there is another station at which СКАЧАТЬ