tain Randall, who
spent some years in Europe, had his ammunition fitted so that the
bullets explode on striking a bone. They tear a terrible hole in a seal,
I assure you."

"Indeed! I never saw one of them, although it seems to me that I have
read of the invention. Have you any of the bullets here? for I suppose
the rifle was lost at the same time."

The sailing-master, or rather pilot, a short, thick-set Newfoundlander,
took up the conversation.

"Dere's de rifle now, hangin' over your head. De captain was ailin', an'
his brother, who fancied de little piece, carried it. Dere's one of de
cartridges in it yet."

So saying, he took down a short carbine of the Spencer pattern, and
unlocking the slide, took out a cartridge and handed it to La Salle. It
displayed at the end of the ball the copper capsule of a rifle-shell.

"Let us go on deck," said Blake, rising; but as they passed again
through the narrow passage, they heard the struggles of the delirious
captain, and his oft-repeated cry, "I couldn't save him! I couldn't save
him!"

[Illustration]

CHAPTER XXII.

THE FORECASTLE OF THE SEALER.--A SEALER'S STORY.--THE LAST
HUNT.--ARRIVAL AT ST. JOHN'S.

In the quarters of the men forward, between the lofty and wedge-like
bows, the rest of the party met with a warm reception; and although
grease was everywhere a prominent feature of the surroundings, still the
sense of comfort, warmth, and security, made it a paradise to men who
had passed so many days of discomfort and anxiety.

Huge kids of beef, potatoes, and bread, with hot pannikins of strong
black tea, formed their dinner, which most of the men preferred to eat
on deck; but the boatswain, or rather captain of the forecastle, with,
perhaps, a dozen others, seated themselves at the long hanging shelf
which formed the table, and listened intently to the story of their
varied wanderings and adventures.

As Regnar concluded, a grizzly-haired sealer from Kitty Vitty seized him
by the hand.

A SEALER'S STORY.

"Ye've ben lucky, sur; de Lord be praised for't, for dere's many a
better man nor you dat's died wid hunger an' cold on de ice. I mind once
myself dat I sailed out o' Conception in March, an' tree weeks after dat
we were up off Hamilton Inlet. Dere was a big fleet of us boys, for dat
was in de ould times when dere were no steamers, but only brigantines
mostly.

"Well, dere was ould Ned Shea in de Li'n, an' Jim Daygle in de Ringdove,
an' Bi