om Tom Gregory to himself.

It was on the afternoon of a clear, cold day, just about sunset. The
men had finished dinner and were smoking their pipes on deck, stamping
their feet and slapping their hands and arms, to keep them warm.

"Hallo, Davy! where are you bound for?" inquired the captain, on
observing that Butts was wrapping himself carefully in his fur-coat,
tightening his belt, and putting on his mittens as if bent on a long
journey.

"I'm only goin' to take a look at my fox-trap, sir, if you'll allow me."

"Certainly, my lad. If you get a fox it's well worth the trouble. And
hark'ee, Davy, take your axe and make one or two more of these
snow-traps of yours. It will be a well-spent hour."

"Why, Butts," exclaimed Gregory, "what do you mean to do with that big
horse-pistol? Surely you are not afraid of bears after laughing so much
at the one that chased me?"

"Oh, no, not _afraid_, you know," replied Davy. "But there's no harm in
being armed."

"Mind you shoot him straight in the eye, or send a bullet up his nose.
Them's the vulnerable parts of him," cried Joe Davis, with a laugh, as
Butts went down the snow-steps and got upon the ice.

"I say," cried Pepper, as he was moving away.

"Well?"

"Bring his tongue aboard with you, and I'll cook it for supper."

"Ah, and a bit of fat to fry it in," added the steward. "There's
nothin' like tongue fried in bear's grease."

"No, no, Dawkins," said Mr Dicey. "Hallo! Davy; bring the 'ams.
Bear's 'ams are considered fustrate heatin'."

"No, _don't_ bring the hams," shouted Jim Croft, "fetch the tongue;
that's the thing for supper of a cold night--fetch the tongue, lad."

"Hold your own tongue," shouted Davy, in reply, as he went off amid the
laughter of his comrades.

The sun sank soon after, and before the ingenious seaman had finished
two new traps the short twilight had gradually deepened into night.
Still there was plenty of light, for the sky was clear, and studded with
a host of stars. In addition to this the Aurora Borealis was sending
its beautiful flashes of pale-green light all across the western sky.

The Aurora--which also goes by the names of "Northern Lights," and
"Streamers," and "Merry-dancers," is seen in great splendour in these
northern skies. When the seaman had finished his traps, and looked up
for a minute or two at the sky, before starting on his return to the
ship, he beheld the Aurora extending over the heavens in the fo