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 b