was actually able by moving about the whole night
long, not only to keep himself alive, but to preserve the vital spark
in his little daughter. Help came in the morning from the nearest
neighbour some miles away, who had been given the alarm by the servant
maid from his home. But there was still one more loss for him to meet,
his little daughter failing to react to all their tenderest efforts to
bring her back to life.

Before Marie was out of her teens, half the young bloods of the
neighbourhood were courting around Uncle Johnnie's house. But none of
them ever made any headway, for Uncle Johnnie clung to his one ewe
lamb with almost childish dependence, and guarded her with all the
wiles of his lifelong woodcraft.

"'T is natural enough," thought young Ned Waring, "that t' old man
don't want to part with she. For there be nothing else for he round
here now. Every stone on t' beach reminds he of his terrible
misfortune." He had said this often enough before, but one day it
struck him-- "When you wants to outwit a beaver, youse got to bank on
dem t'ings that are real part of his make-up, and which he can no more
help than a bear can help licking molasses. Fishing isn't as good as
it used to be round here, and swiles[1]--well, there be'ant one year
in a dozen when they comes in any quantity. I reckon I'll rig t' Saucy
Lass for a longer trip t' year, and see what luck'll bring lower down
t' Labrador."

So it came to pass that year that on a day in June, with his two
brothers and a shipped "hand," Ned landed north of fifty-three in a
lovely cove in some islands off the mouth of a long bay. Even as he
passed in he had seen fish schooling so thick "you could catch 'em by
the tails." His vessel safely anchored, he went ashore, much as did
the old navigators in the brave days of the French explorers. No sign
of human beings existed anywhere. Thick groves of evergreen trees
covered all the slopes of the valleys which held the river in whose
mouth they had anchored. But though signs of rabbits, foxes, and
other game greeted their trained eyes, not a living animal was to be
seen moving anywhere.

It so happened, however, that as they stretched themselves out on the
brow of the hill before returning to their schooner, Ned chanced to
disturb a large bee, which resented painfully the intrusion of these
idlers on his labours. It was an insect rare enough on Labrador; so,
taking the overture as a touch of personal interest rather