him drag a flipper seal big enough to give a slice
of the fat to every man, woman and child in the place.

Tom had a large family, and for nine days they had tasted nothing but
a little roasted seal meat.

Finally Tom took his gun down from the nails over the door. It was a
single-barrel muzzle-loader, meant for a boy, but he was a good shot,
and had often wandered out alone over the frozen sea and come back
with a nice fat bird or even a seal to show for it.

"Where be you goin', Tom?" asked his anxious wife.

"Out yonder." He jerked his thumb toward the wide white space of the
ice-locked ocean.

She ran to get his warm cap and mittens. "When'll you be back?"

"I dunno. Not till I get a seal. Us has got to have somethin' to eat,
an' have it soon."

She found an old flour-bag, and tied up in it a few crusts of bread.

"You'd ought to keep this here," said Tom.

"No, Tom. You can't hunt without nothin' to eat. We'll manage somehow.
We'll borrow."

"Ain't nobody to borrow from," answered Tom. "Ain't nobody round here
got nothin'. We uns is all starvin'. Hope Sandy Maule's letter gits to
that there Dr. Grenfell."

"Who's Dr. Grenfell?"

"He's a doctor comin' out here from England. He's goin' to help us."

"Will he have anythin' to eat?"

"Yes--he'll have suthin'. But he's got lots o' friends in England an'
America--an' he can get 'em to send things."

"What'd Sandy Maule write?"

Tom was poking a bit of greasy cloth through the gun with a ramrod.
Everything depended on the way that gun worked. He mustn't miss a
shot--there was no fun in that long, hard hunt on the ice that lay
ahead of him.

"Sandy Maule wrote, 'Please, Doctor, come and start a station here for
us if you can. My family and I are starvin'. All the folks around us
are starvin' too. The fish hain't struck in and bit like they should.
We're cuttin' pieces outa the sides o' our rubber boots an' tyin' 'em
on for shoes.' Things like that, Sandy writ to the Doctor."

Mrs. Bradley drew the sleeve of her thin, worn calico dress across her
eyes. She was a brave woman, but her strength was nearly gone. She did
not want her husband to see her cry.

"It's all of it true," she said. "If I could only get a little fresh
milk to give the baby! Might as well ask for the moon."

She did not speak bitterly. She would stay by her man and live for her
children to the end.

"Well," said Tom, trying to sound matter-of-fact, "we'll go out with
the ole gu