eham, an old English fisherman from Devonshire, who had spent
forty years of his life on The Labrador and had an Eskimo wife,
welcomed us to his house. Near it was an eminence called Watch Hill,
from which the general situation of the ice pack could be observed.
Day after day I climbed Watch Hill, and for hours at a time with a
telescope viewed the ice and gazed longingly at Battle Harbour in the
distance. On the morning of the ninth day the pack appeared to be
spreading, and I decided to run the risk of getting fast in the ice,
and make at least an attempt to start. So George and I and the five
natives that were to row us over got the boat afloat, prepared for a
start immediately after luncheon.

Meanwhile George and I ascended Watch Hill for another look at the ice
pack. Upon scanning the distant shore line through the telescope we
discovered a speck moving in the bay away over near Battle Harbour. A
little later we were assured that it was a big row-boat laboriously
making its way through the ice. It came nearer and nearer, obviously
headed for Fox Harbour. At noon it arrived, and its brawny crew of
fishermen said they had come for us. Dr. Macpherson had sent them.
The steamer that the doctor had written me was expected had arrived at
Cape Charles with a cargo for a new whale factory, and probably would
sail for Newfoundland the next day. Having heard we were on our way
down the coast, and divining that we were held at Fox Harbour by the
ice, Dr. Macpherson had sent the boat so that we might be sure to get
the steamer. I marvelled greatly at these evidences of the doctor's
thoughtfulness for us who were absolute strangers to him, and was
deeply touched.

We placed the coffin in the boat, together with our baggage, and
started at once. The men had instructions to take us directly to the
ship as she lay off Cape Charles, and after a row of about thirteen
miles we reached her at five o'clock in the afternoon. She was the
Aurora, one of the Newfoundland sealing fleet. It was like reaching
home to be on shipboard again, and I felt that my troubles were ended.
The mate, Patrick Dumphry, informed me, however, that her commander,
Captain Abraham Kean, was at Battle Harbour, and that the steamer would
not sail before the following night. So, wishing to have Hubbard's
coffin prepared for the voyage, and to meet and thank Dr. Macpherson, I
had the men row me back the five miles to Battle Harbour.

There I learned