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I. Tm-: CABIN AT rue Jco
I-IE Jug, as Thomas Angus often re-
marked, was as snug and handy 3.
place in which to live as ever a man
could wish.‘ Ten miles up the bay was
the trading post of the Hudson Bay Com-
pany, and at VVolf Bight, twelve miles di-
rectly across the bay from the Jug, the
trading post of Trowbridgc and Gray.
Five miles to the eastward, at Break Cove,
lived Dr. Seth.
“ here's no chance of ever gettin’
lonely," declared Thomas, "with neigh-
bors so ."
The Jug was a well-sheltered bigbt on
the northern side of Eskimo Bay, and
here, in the edge of the forest, stood the
cabin in which Thomas made his home.
Near the cabin Roaring Brook rushed
down through a gorge in a vast hurry to
empty its sparkling waters into the bight; '
and behind the cabin, shrouded in silence
mystery and stretching away into un-
measured distances, lay the great unpeo-
“There's room enough here for a man
to stretch himself," said Thomas.
mucl. like every other trappe-r’s home in
the Eskimo Bay country. Thomas be-
lieved in comfort, and plenty of room to:
stretch, Indoors as well as out, and this
sentiment led him tc make no stint of
timber or labor when he built. "The tim-
ber is here for the tal<irr‘,” said he, “and
a it more work won’t matter."
The cabin was built of logs, and faced
the south, with its entrance through an
inclosed porch on its western gable. This
porch served both as a protection from
winter storms and as a storeroom. Herc
were kept the dogs’ harness, fish nets, and
innumerable odds and end." incident to the
life and occupation of the trapper and
fisherman. And in one end of the porch,
neatly piled in tiers, was an ever-ready
supply of firewood.
A door'from the porch led 'nto '9 living
room crudely and primitively furnished,
but possessed of an indescribable atmos-
phere of comfort. The uncarpeted floor,
the homemade table, the chests which
served both as storage places for cloth-
ing and as seats, the three crude, but sub-
stantiai chairs, and the shelves for dishes,
were scoured clean and white with sand
and soap; for Margaret, through her
Scotch ancestry, had inherited a strong
leaning toward cleaniines: and neatness,
“I likes to keep the house tidy,” she
once said to Dr. Seth, when he had com-
plimented her upon her home. “’Tis a
wonderful comfort to have un tidy and
The three windows were draped with
white muslin-an unusual luxury. Two
of these windows looked to the south-
ward. Bcforc them lay the wide vista of
Eskimo Bay, and beyond the bay, the
grim, snow-capped peaks of the Mealy
In ‘Ian C%‘g,pterJ‘
Mountains. The other window was in the
rear. Here the view was restricted by the
forest, which sheltered the cabin trom the
frigid northern blasts of the subarctic
A bunk built against the wall like 3.
ship's berth, and which served Thomas as
a bed, and a big box stove, which would
accommodate great billets of wood, com-
pleted the furnishings.
Originally, the cabin had contained no
other rooms than the living room and t .e
porch. But when the children came,
Thomas erected an addition on the eastern
end, which he partitioned into two sleeping
compartments, one for Margaret, and the
other for the boys.
Thomas Angus and his family were
the greatest sorrow that ever had visited
the Angus household. Thomas dug the
grave himse f, as a ast service to his
wife, and when he and the neighbors had
lowered Mrs. Angus’ body into its deep,
cold bed, and he and the mourning chil-
dren returned to the empty cabin, he com-
forted them with the philosophy of his
simple Christian faith.
Margaret, then a little maid of twelve,
took her mother's place as housekeeper,
and bravely did her best to mother the
boys. In these five years she had grown
into a handsome, rosy-checked lass of
seventeen, and as capable and fine a
housekeeper as you could find on the
David and Andy, too, had developed
with the years from energetic small boys
Into broad-shouldered, brawny lads. Da-
vid, nearly sixteen, and Andy, fourteen,
rent a hand at anything that was to be
done indoors and out. They kept the
water barrel filled from Roaring Brook,
they helped cut, saw, and split the fire-
wood. In summer they did their part at
the calmon- and trout-fishing, and in win-
ter kept the house supplied with part-
ridges and rabbits and other small game.
In Labrador everyone must do his part,
and lads learn rly to bear their share
of the responsi ities of life, and so it
had been with David and Andy.
Jamie. the youngest of the family, was
ten, ant’ as cheerful and lusty and fine a
little ‘an as ever lived. But Jamie's sight -
“They':: a. smoke in the noose," said
Jamie when he awoke one morning.
“Thevs :.o smo e in the house,” pro-
tested Andy. “I sees un over everything.”
“ -7 ...r
“ca '-r You uzxn us?"
well content in their cheery guarters, with
a neighbor “right handy,” the trading
posts near enough. to visit now and again
n business or pleasure, and enough to
c t. What more could be desired?
Thomas Angus was 3. good hunter, and
provided well for his family. In Lab-
rador this means that, for the rnos‘. part,
his catch of fur was good ‘r. winter, his
fish nets yielded we] in summer, and
therefore his flour barrel selciorr was
Bread and pork, with no stint of tea and
a bit of molasses for sweetening, together
with such game as h might I'., pro-
vided 2 table that to ma: ngu: and
his family was bountiful and varied
enough, if not luxurious. There were no
potatoes or cthe: vegetables, to be sure,
for gardens do not thrive in this far,
northerr. land; but they did no" mind that,
for they never 3136 eaten vegetables, and
we dc not miss what we never have had.
Mrs. Angus hai beer. dead these Five
years. Her grave, marked by a rude
wooden s:ab, was in a little fenced-in
clcaring behind the house. Her death was
“But I sees on! I see: uni" insisted
“Tie the sleep in your eyes yet,” sug-
gested David. “Twill pass away when
And so Jamie said no more, believing
i. wa: the sleef . his eyes, though he
rubbed then: to drive it away, and dressed
and looked out of the window toward the
“They’s 2 mist on the water,” the little
"they": no mist," denied Andy. “’Tis
fine and clear, and the sun shines wonder-
.5’; tr. remained, gradually
becoming mu‘; dens: with the passing
weeks. It was in the ’ ' "
t.hat the mist had Grst appeared before
Jamie's. eyes, and before the month was
ended, he complained that he could no
longer see the snow-capped peaks of
Mealy Mountains across the bay. And
this was too bad, for Jamie loved the
mountains He always felt that he could
JANUARY 5, rot?
depend upon them, and he had a fancy.
when at evening the setting sun tipped
their white summits with its last glow,
that it was a bit of the dazzling light from
heaven breaking through the sky.
But it had been many days now since
Jamie had seen his beloved mountains.
Even the point at the entrance to the bight
had become veiled in haze, and seemed
to have moved far out into the bay, as it
used to do when the fog hung low on
murky days, and when Jamie's sight was
as keen as David's :md Andy's.
In the beginning Thomas gave little
heed to Jamie's complaints of the mist, for
he was busy then at his fishing. “’Tis a
bit of a strain, a bit of the burn and glare
of the spring sun upon the snow, left in
the eyes,” said he, “and ’twill soon pass
away. ’Twill soon pass away.”
But one day late in August, when Dr.
Seth was over at the Jug, he heard Jamie
complain of the mist, and he asked Jamie
many questions, and looked long and hard
into the boys eyes. When he was leav-
ing, and Thomas walked down to the
beach to help him launch his boat, he told
Thomas that the mist would not clear up
of itself. -
“And is it a sickness, then, and a bad
un .7" asked Thomas, aroused to great con-
“I can’t say yet how bad it is, but ’tis
a sickness, and ’tis likely to grow worse,
if it's the kind of sickness I take ".t to be,”
said Dr. Seth. “Don't worry about it yet,
Thomas. I'll be up again soon and look
into the eyes to see how they're doing."
“Can't you mend un?” asked Thomas
“VVe‘ll see what we can do,” and Dr.
Scti1’s voice was hearty and reassuring.
Thomas Angus and Dr. Seth were great
friznds. Margaret and the boys called Dr.
Seth “Uncle Seth,” and were as fond of
him as if he had been their own rclativs;
and he was mightily fond of them. He
had come to the bay three years before
Mrs. Angus died. It N35 cn a. blustery
July evening that they hrst saw him, sail-
ing up the bay in an old open boat, wit:
a ragger‘ leg-of-mu‘..on sail. TlIom:‘.$
hailed him, and he turned in at the Jug.
He accepted Thomas’ invitation to spend
the night, for a. ';.1bradorrr!an will never
permit a stranger to sass his home with-
out a hail and an invitation, and a cheer-
ing welcome, warmed with 2. cup of tea
and a bit to eat.
Dr. Setn was a nervous man, with the
appcaranze of one who had been ill. His
hand was unsteady, witli a. trcmcr--un-
like the strong, firm hand of the Labra-
rlorman. Thomas saw at once that he
was no Labradorman. Anyone could mve
seen that with half an eye. His speech
and manner, too, were not of the coast.
Ilis zin had not the deep bronze tan ‘f
the people, and his rlrcss was not the dress
of the natii
But Tnorn“ liked the stranger, and
urged him to bide for a time at the Jug.
For several days he remained as a guest
at the Angus cabin, :-sking many questions
about the country and manner of life of
the folk who lived there, and of the meth-
ods oi trapping, hunting, and bartering
fur and fish.
He introduced himself to Thomas as
Seth Carver, and explained that he had
come from the south as a passenger on
the mail boat, which he had left at Fort:
Pelican, eighty miles down the bay. And
at length he announced that he had dc-
cidcd to settle here and make Labrador
“Twill be a strange life for you," said
“Ycs," said Dr. Seth, "a strange life."
Then Dr. Setl: turned his attention to the
selection of a suitable place to build his
cabin. Cruising; along the shore one day,
he came upon Break Cove. He liked the
olace and declared hi: home should be
there. Thomas, after the snanner of the
-uv-.,e r9’, ‘-,-, .