ached the coast, it was with real
trepidation that I scanned the land for signs of my derelict friend.
We felt that he would be gravely altered at least, possibly having
grown hair all over his face. When an alert, tanned, athletic figure,
neatly tonsured and barbered, at last leaped over our rail, all our
sympathy vanished and gave way to jealousy.

One detail, however, had gone wrong. We had anchored our beautiful Sir
Donald in his care in a harbour off the long bay on the shores of
which he was wintering. He had seen her once or twice in her ice
prison, but when he came to look for her in the spring, she had
mysteriously disappeared. The ice was there still. There wasn't a
vestige of wreckage. She must have sunk, and the hole frozen up. Yet
an extended period of "creeping" the bottom with drags and grapples
had revealed nothing, and, anyhow, the water not being deep, her masts
should have been easily visible. It was not till some time later that
we heard from the South that our trusty craft had been picked up some
three hundred miles to the southward and westward, well out in a heavy
ice-pack, and right in amongst a big patch of seals, away off on the
Atlantic. The whole of the bay ice had evidently gone out together,
taking the ship with it, and the bay had then neatly frozen over
again. The seal hunters laughingly assured me that they found a patch
of old "swiles" having tea in the cabin. As the hull of the Sir Donald
was old, and the size of the boat made good medical work aboard
impossible, we decided to sell her and try and raise the funds for a
more seaworthy and capable craft.

Years of experience have subsequently emphasized the fact that if you
are reasonably resistant, and want to get tough and young again, you
can do far worse than come and winter on "the lonely Labrador."

CHAPTER IX

THE SEAL FISHERY

Returning South in the fall of 1895, business necessitated my
remaining for some time in St. John's, where as previously the
Governor, Sir Terence O'Brien, very kindly entertained me. It proved
to be a most exciting time. There were only two banks in the Colony,
called respectively the Union and the Commercial. These issued all the
notes used in the country and except for the savings bank had all the
deposits of the fishermen and people. Suddenly one day I was told,
though with extreme secrecy, that the two banks were unsound and would
not again open after Monday morning. This was early on Sat