so wildly fleeing. The rowboat George
had spied belonged to him, but the house, standing back in a thick
clump of trees, had not been visible from the water. On the evening of
George's arrival, Donald and his brother Gilbert were away, and
Donald's wife and another young woman who stayed with her to keep her
company were alone. The latter young woman, with Mrs. Blake's baby in
her arms, was standing at the door of the house, when suddenly she
heard a crashing noise in the bush in front of her, and the next moment
there loomed up before her affrighted vision in the gloaming the
apparition of a gaunt and ragged man, dripping wet, and running towards
her with long, black hair and straggling beard streaming in the wind.
She turned and fled into the house.

"O Mrs. Blake! O Mrs. Blake!" she cried, "'tis somethin' dreadful
comin'! 'tis sure a wild man!"

Greatly alarmed, Mrs. Blake went to the door. George, panting and
still dripping, stood before her.

"Lord ha' mercy!" she piously exclaimed, throwing up her arms.

"Don't be scared, ladies," panted George; "I couldn't hurt a rabbit.
Ain't there any men here?"

His ingratiating manner reassured the frightened women, and
explanations followed. All the natives of the vicinity of Hamilton
Inlet had been wondering what had become of us, and Mrs. Blake quickly
grasped the situation. Kindness itself, she took George in. Donald
and Gilbert, she said, would be back directly. She made him hot tea,
and put on the table for him some grouse stew, molasses, and bread and
butter, all the time imploring him to sit down and warm himself. But
George was too excited to sit down. Up and down he paced, the melting
ice on his rags making tiny rivulets on his hostess's spotless floor.
Most of the breeds who live near the western end of Hamilton Inlet are
remarkably cleanly, this probably being due to their Scotch blood.

George at length calmed himself sufficiently to turn his attention to
the meal that had been prepared for him. He had salt for his meat,
molasses to sweeten his tea and a bountiful supply of good bread. He
ate greedily, which fact he soon had cause to regret; for later in the
evening he began to bloat, and for several days thereafter he writhed
with the colic. But for the present he thought of nothing save the
satisfaction of the appetite that had been regenerated by the food he
had been able to obtain after leaving me. It was especially difficult
for him to t