led 'Button Isles' on the chart?" he asked, sliding
down the shrouds. "Is it because they resemble buttons?"

"No," said Raed. "They were named for Capt. Button, who sailed through
here more than a century ago. He was one of those navigators who tried
so hard to find the 'north-west passage' by sailing through Hudson's
Straits. During the first half of the eighteenth century, the London
merchants sent out expeditions nearly every year in the hope of
finding a passage through here to China and India. This Button was one
of their captains."

"Then this low land to the south-west of us is Cape Chidleigh, is it
not?" said Wade.

"No," said Raed. "Cape Chidleigh is the main land of Labrador down to
the south-east of the Button Isles. You couldn't see that, could you,
captain?"

"Saw some high peaks to the south, far down on the horizon. Those are
on Labrador, I presume. Couldn't say whether they are the cape proper
or not. They are in about the direction of the cape as indicated on
the chart."

As the sun rose higher a breeze sprang up, and the sails filled. The
schooner was headed W.N.W. to run under the cape; Bonney being set to
watch sharp for the floating ice.

"Coffee, sar!" cried Palmleaf from the companion-way.

We went down to breakfast and talk over matters with the captain. It
was decided to work up under the cape, and so, hugging the land on the
north side as closely as possible, get into the strait as far as we
could that day. We all felt anxious; for though the sea was now
smooth, sky clear, and the wind fair, yet we knew that it was rather
the exception than the average. The idea of being caught here among
these cliffs and icebergs in a three-days' fog or a north-east gale,
with the whole fury of the Atlantic at our backs, was anything but
encouraging. The advice of the elder navigators, "to seize a favorable
day and get as far up the straits as possible," kept recurring to our
minds. The words had an ominous sound. They were the utterances of
many a sad experience.

"There never could be a better day nor a fairer wind," remarked the
captain.

"Now's our chance; I'm convinced of it," said Kit.

The mainsail, which had been taken in the previous evening, and the
topsail, were both set; and, the breeze freshening, "The Curlew"
rapidly gathered way. Considerable care had to be used, however, to
avoid the broad cakes of ice which were floating out all around us.
Small bits, and pieces as large as a ho