Skipper
Weymouth came alongside and seed her.

"'What be you going to do wi' she?' he asked, he not being afraid as
most were. 'Why drown her, to be sure,' said Bill. 'I towed her behind
t' boat for a mile a week ago come Sunday to drive t' devil out of
her. But she ain't no good to me now, and so I reckon I'll get
another.'

"The skipper saw that Bill had liquor in him and was quarrelsome, and
feared that he'd just as likely as not upset t' boat--and drowned t'
woman would be sure enough with that stone round her neck. So he says,
'Drown her! Not on this coast and lobsters just setting in. She'd
spoil the catch all summer just to spite you.' Bill looked puzzled.
'You're right, sure enough, Skipper Alf. I'll have to do for she some
other way'--and round he goes and rows her home again.

"The people, howsomever, was real afraid, and letters went up to the
Government. No doubt Bill heard about it. But there were no place left
now for him to go safely, so he just drank and drank where he was, all
he could lay hands on; and when he couldn't get no more I guess he
must have gone mad. For he were found dead on t' floor of his house,
with a great big knife he had for hunting deer in his hand.

"Yes, his wife's alive to this day so far as us knows. Her son Bill
found a box of old silver dollars, Spanish and French, buried under t'
house Bill had on Labrador, the time he were trapped by Captain
Fordland's men. They were mostly about a hundred years old. I saw many
of them, but where they come from, or how he come by 'em, no one ever
knew. We heard, however, that they helped poor Nancy to get back to
her people again all right."

KAIACHOUOUK

The brief summer of Northern Labrador had passed, and the Eskimos
around the Hudson's Bay Post at Katatallik were busy preparing for the
approaching winter. The season previous, according to the accurate
notes of the Moravians, kept for over a hundred years, had been the
worst on record; and now again, as the long, cold, icy grip of winter
drew near, the prospect of supplies was menacingly poor. So the
Innuits, that cheerful and resourceful little race of the North who
wrest their living from so reluctant an environment, were putting
forth all their energies in a "preparedness" from whose example many a
civilized community might well have profited.

Their chief Kaiachououk, of upright character, and the courage born of
simplicity, was a familiar figure at the Hudson's Bay Po