poles, had any
such creatures been there to see them. They wore boots too, to which,
in width at least, those worn by fishermen are nothing. Some of them
carried babies in their hoods--little naked imps, whose bodies and heads
were dumplings (suet dumplings, we may add, for the information of the
curious), and whose arms and legs were sausages.

Bryan was great that night--he was majestic! The fiddle all but spoke,
and produced a sensation of dancing in the toes of even those who
happened to be seated. Bryan was great as a linguist, too, and
exhibited his powers in this respect with singular felicity in the vocal
entertainment that followed the dancing. The Esquimau language seemed a
mere trifle to him, and he conversed, while playing the violin, with
several "purty craytures" in their native tongue, with an amount of
volubility quite surprising. Certainly it cannot be said that those
whom he addressed expressed much intelligence; but Esquimaux are not
usually found to be quick in their perceptions. Perchance Bryan was
metaphysical!

Mirth, hearty, _real_ mirth reigned at the fort, not only that day, but
for many a day afterwards; for the dangers, and troubles, and anxieties
of the first year were past. Hope in the future was strong, despite the
partial failures that had been experienced; and through the goodness of
God, all those who composed the original band of the "forlorn hope" were
reunited, after many weary months of travel, danger, and anxiety, during
part of which a dark and dreary cloud (now happily dispelled) had
settled down on Fort Chimo.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Years have rolled away since the song and shout of the fur-trader first
awakened the echoes of Ungava. Its general aspect is still the same,
for there is no change in the everlasting hills. In summer the deer
still wander down the dark ravines and lave their flanks in the river's
swelling tide, and in winter the frost-smoke still darkens the air and
broods above the open water of the sea; but Fort Chimo, the joy and
wonder of the Esquimaux and the hope of the fur-trader, is gone, and a
green patch of herbage near the flat rock beside the spring alone
remains to mark the spot where once it stood.

In the course of time the changes that took place in the arrangements of
the Fur Company required the presence of Stanley at another station, and
he left Ungava with his wife and child. The