in.

The sea hammered the life out of the boat--but the human life was gone
from it, and nobody cared. As for the dog--you can imagine how Reuben
Decker's cottage door was kept a-swing till it was nearly torn from
its hinges, by friends who dropped in to pat him on the back, and look
with curiosity at the animal which a few hours ago they ignored or
despised. And Reuben did not tire of telling them all what a dog it
was. He could safely say there was no better on the coast. Perhaps in
the world.

The rumbling echoes of the dog's brave deed traveled "over the hills
and far away," to Curling, where lives from hand to mouth a little
paper called _The Western Star_. It has a circulation of 675 in fair
weather and 600 when it storms. The editor is a man named Barrett, who
is a correspondent of the Associated Press. He put a brief dispatch on
the wire for all America. Some people in Philadelphia read it, and
sent the dog a silver collar, almost big enough to go three times
round his neck. Since the dog had no name, the word "Hero" was
engraved on the collar.

The day of the presentation was a general holiday. All the way from
St. John's, people came to see "Hero" rewarded. Father Brennan made a
speech, the sheriff was in his glory, and Reuben Decker and his dog,
dragged blinking into the limelight, were equally dumb with modesty,
surprise and gratitude. The cheer that was raised when the silver
clasp of the magnificent collar clicked round "Hero's" throat drowned
out the loud music of the ocean.

Now "Hero," freed forever from bondage to the sled, may lie by the
fire in his master's house, his head on his paws, his nose twitching,
as he dreams of his great adventure.

VI

HUNTING WITH THE ESKIMO

When Dr. Grenfell first sailed his mission boat to the Eskimo
settlements, the Eskimo swarmed aboard his little schooner, the
_Albert_. They were singing a hymn the Moravian missionaries taught
them.

"What do you know about that?" said Sailor Bill to Sailor Jim. "Them
fellers certainly can sing!"

"Yes, an' they got a brass band," answered Jim. "Just hear 'em a-goin'
it, over there on the shore when the wind sets our way. You'd sure
think the circus was comin' to town! Hey there, where you goin', young
feller?"

The "young feller" was an old Eskimo of about seventy, but Jim
couldn't be expected to know that. For he was all done up like a
figure from fairy-land--in snow-white jumper, peaked fur cap, and
sealsk