“In addition to the first guide, your grandfather now engaged one of the
Indians with whom they had passed the night, to accompany him. The three
cheerfully proceeded on their route, and for the first few days enjoyed
very brilliant weather, and made so much progress upon the hard snow,
that I believe they had nearly traversed a third of their destined route
across to St. George’s Bay.
“But now they began to suffer severely from the state of their eyes
which became exceedingly painful, and no wonder; for by day they were
exposed to the full glare of the sun upon the wide expanse of snow,
and all night to the red glare of the fire, together with the pungent
wood-smoke, which proved a constant trial to the sight. At length they
became almost blind, and to add to their distress, provisions began to
fail them. They had counted on securing plenty of game as they went
along, and no one ever thinks of carrying provisions for more than a day
or two into the interior with them. Now, unhappily, this resource was at
an end; for not one of the three could see well enough to use a gun, or,
indeed, bear to look upwards.
“What follows is very sad; it is touchingly told in the journal, and I
will read the account as it is there given:--‘The atmosphere now became
so thick, that, had we not been troubled with snow-blindness, we could
not have seen more than a few yards, and could not possibly have made
our way in an unknown country.
“‘These Newfoundland fogs are fearful things; they surpass, indeed, the
imagination of Europeans. You seem to be actually in cloud-land; for
nothing but cloud is visible above, around, and beneath. This state of
things lasts often for days; now it is a bright white, as though the day
were struggling through; now it becomes shaded, and now almost night.
Sometimes there are little openings, and you catch a clean vista between
two walls of vapour, but it is presently shut out by the rolling masses
of fog. I could compare it to nothing but ghost-land; nothing is real
except the danger!”
“Were you ever in such a fog as that, grandmamma?” asked George.
“Yes, George; once at sea we were overtaken by a most fearful and
prolonged fog; never in my life did I experience such feelings of awe
and alarm as during that weary week.
“But I must tell you of that another time. Your grandfather often used
to recall his emotions when travelling in that thick cloud. One day they
rested in the icy chamber they had dug for the night’s resting-place,
and he said, ‘That was indeed an oratory;’ and fervently did we pray,
‘Give us our daily bread,’ and ‘Lighten our darkness we beseech Thee, O
Lord.’
“The tears dropped fast when he thought of my anxiety on his account,
and of the probability that his usefulness was at an end, and that we
should meet no more on earth.
“At length he came to the resolution to retrace his steps, hoping to
make the scanty supply of biscuit which still remained hold out until
they could regain the spot where the Indians had encamped, and where
they had buried some venison. Of the three travellers, he suffered least
from snow-blindness, which he thought was owing to the fact that he had
kept a black gauze veil over his face at mid-day, and had resolutely
adhered to his purpose of not rubbing his eyes. He was, therefore, best
able to guide his companions. He thus describes the plan on which he
proceeded:--‘Maurice, the Indian, would open his eyes now and then to
look at my compass;--we could not see for fog more than one hundred
yards; he would fix on some object as far as the eye could reach, and
then shut his eyes again, when I would lead him up to it. On reaching it
he would take another look, and we then started for the next point. It
was literally a case of the blind leading the blind.
“In this manner, by forced marches, we were enabled to reach, by seven
or eight in the evening, the same spots at which we had halted on our
outward march at four each day. Thus we were spared the labour of
digging and clearing away the snow, to which, in our enfeebled
condition, we were quite unequal. The stint of food was now so small
that I advised my companions not to eat any quantity at a time, but
to take a piece the size of a nutmeg when hunger was most craving. We
gathered also each day, on our return, about as many partridge berries
as would fill a wine glass apiece, and these we found both refreshing
and nutritive. They had ripened in the autumn, and had been buried under
the snow all the winter, so that they resembled preserved fruit in
flavour, and reminded me of a rich, clarety grape.
“One great privation in this winter travelling is the want of water. We
were obliged to content ourselves with the supply gotten from the snow,
melted by the smoky fire. This water, together with the wind, had the
effect of parching and cracking my swollen lips to such a degree, that
when, after an interval of eight days, I had an opportunity of surveying
my face in a piece of broken glass, I was at a loss to recognise my own
features. The most scorching heat of summer is not so injurious to the
skin as the effect of travelling in the snow at this season.’
“After this tedious fashion, stage by stage, the wanderers slowly
proceeded, until at length, by God’s mercy, they reached the place where
the Indian wigwams had been left. During the latter part of their route
they heard continually the noise of the woodpeckers upon the bark of
the trees, which is considered a certain sign of approaching rain, a
downfall of which they much feared. The weather was beginning to soften,
and consequently the ice lost its firmness, and it became both difficult
and dangerous to get so far as this place, but by great effort they
accomplished it. Nor was your grandfather satisfied to trust to the
imperfect shelter the tents afforded, but persevered in journeying on
to the hut built for the winter crew, and which he knew was at no great
distance from thence.
“Scarcely had he reached this spot when the rain fell in torrents, and
truly thankful did he feel that he had a roof to protect him, instead of
being in one of those miserable un-roofed snow-caves, which had for so
many nights been his only retreat during all weathers. For a time
he suffered greatly both in his eyes and from the smarting of his
cold-blistered face, which, together with the fatigue he had endured,
rendered it necessary that he should repose for some days before
venturing on his journeyings again. I shall not trace his onward
progress, which continued to be attended with much difficulty and
danger. His nerves became at length so shattered by his great exertions,
that, when travelling along the coast, where he had to pass over very
lofty cliffs, the sight of these dizzy precipices would so affect
him that he burst into tears, and experienced all the symptoms of
fainting. Once when clinging by his hands and knees upon the edge of a
steep cliff, he felt as though he must inevitably loose his hold, in
which case the fall would have been certain death. Closing his eyes, he
breathed an earnest ejaculatory prayer, and supported by an invisible
arm, and strengthened with new vigour, he felt empowered to maintain his
hold, and, gradually advancing, reached the bottom in safety.”
[Illustration]
“Oh, how glad you must have felt when you saw him home again, safe and
sound, dear granny.”
“I did, indeed, my love, and with thankful heart acknowledged the
goodness of our heavenly Father. Nothing but the strong sense of duty
can sustain the heart under such anxiety as falls to the lot of the
faithful missionary and his family. Love divine is the constraining
and blessed principle that bears the fainting spirit up. ‘We love Him
because He first loved us.’ Let that, my own dear boy, be your motto;
and then if you lose your life in the service of your Lord, you will
find it again in eternal joy.”