was the one man the
Board thought of, and he was asked to go.

He accepted. Here was a new field of work and adventure offering ever
greater possibilities than the old, and he never hesitated about it.

He began preparations for the new enterprise at once. The _Albert_, a
little ketch-rigged vessel of ninety-seven tons register, was
selected. Iron hatches were put into her, she was sheathed with
greenhart to withstand the pressure of ice, and thoroughly refitted.
Captain Trevize, a Cornishman, was engaged as skipper. Though Doctor
Grenfell was himself a master mariner and thoroughly qualified as a
navigator, he had never crossed the Atlantic, and in any case he was
to be fully occupied with other duties. There was a crew of eight men
including the mate, Skipper Joe White, a famous skipper of the North
Sea fleets.

On June 15, 1892, the _Albert_ was towed out of Great Yarmouth Harbor,
and that day she spread her sails and set her course westward. The
great work of Doctor Grenfell's life was now to begin. All the years
of toil on the North Sea had been but an introduction to it and a
preparation for it. His little vessel was to carry him to the bleak
and desolate coast of Labrador and into the ice fields of the North.
He was to meet new and strange people, and he was destined to
experience many stirring adventures.

IV

DOWN ON THE LABRADOR

Heavy seas and head winds met the _Albert_, and she ran in at the
Irish port of Cookhaven to await better weather. In a day or two she
again spread her canvas, Fastnet Rock, at the south end of Ireland,
the last land of the Old World to be seen, was lost to view, and in
heavy weather she pointed her bow toward St. Johns, Newfoundland.

Twelve days later, in a thick fog, a huge iceberg loomed suddenly up
before them, and the _Albert_ barely missed a collision that might
have ended the mission. It was the first iceberg that Doctor Grenfell
had ever seen. Presently, and through the following years, they were
to become as familiar to him as the trees of the forests.

Four hundred years had passed since Cabot on his voyage of discovery
had, in his little caraval, passed over the same course that Grenfell
now sailed in the _Albert_. Nineteen days after Fastnet Rock was lost
to view, the shores of Newfoundland rose before them. That was fine
sailing for the landfall was made almost exactly opposite St. Johns.

The harbor of St. Johns is like a great bowl. The entrance is a