ad no
funnelling, and was filling the hut with eye-torturing smoke.

"Come along, Mother," he cried. "There's no time to be lost. If we
hurry, we may get over before dark."

A little delay was caused by the children, who were unwilling to leave
even that pretence of a shelter; and more time was lost crossing the
island, the children having to be carried most of the way. At last,
having placed them all safely in the boat, Uncle Johnnie proceeded to
launch her, and by wading into the water himself, succeeded in keeping
them dry for the start. But the increasing sea soon made even that
sacrifice of little avail, for broken water and driving spray, with
the now heavily falling snow, soon soaked them through and through, at
last half filling the boat itself with water.

Uncle Johnnie knew by instinct that it was now neck or nothing. He
must get across that strip of water if human endurance could do it. So
he kept on and on, long after he might have gone back, and put the
boat before it once more to run for the island only after it was well
dark, and he was being blown astern anyhow in spite of his best
efforts. Nearing the shore, he had every reason to expect disaster,
for the boat was now half filled, and he could see no place to make a
landing. So as soon as his oars struck bottom he once more jumped
into the water, and, holding the boat in his iron grip, he dragged it
and its precious freight once more out of the furious violence of the
sea.

The children by this time were quite unable to "travel"; so, sending
his wife ahead, Uncle Johnnie struggled along with the little ones as
best he could.

Alas, all of them were thoroughly beaten out. As he passed a big
boulder halfway across the island which served as a landmark for the
pathway, Uncle Johnnie found his poor wife lying in the snow, and
already beyond any help he could give. Hurrying on to the cottage as
best he could, he deposited the children, and once more fled out into
the darkness for his wife, only to be, as he feared, too late, and to
be obliged to leave her where she had fallen. Distracted as he was, he
could only once more hurry to the hut, where again nothing but
disaster awaited him. The place was flooded, the fire was out, no dry
matches were left, and the little boy was already following his mother
into the great beyond. Tearing off his coat and shirt, and pressing
the little girl to his naked skin, he covered himself up again as
best he could, and