[Illustration:
“_At last We are on Our Way to see Father_”
]
On the way to join the ship she stopped to say good-bye to Uncle in New
York and to dear old Grandma in Portland, Maine. Here too she promised
to return in the Fall and if possible to bring father with her.
Her one wish now was to board the ship and get away, and this she really
did on July 20 at Sydney, Cape Breton. That night before going to sleep
she wrote in her diary.
“_July 20, 1900._—Glory, glory, at last mother and I are on our way
to see father. I wonder how long it will take us. I can hardly wait.
“We have such tiny rooms here that one of us must stay in bed while
the other dresses. Everything is very clean and comfortable and I
have a little kitty with which to play, and I think I will like our
maid too.
[Illustration:
“_A little Kitty with which to play_”
]
[Illustration:
“_When a Breeze would fill the Sails_”
]
“She is the wife of the steward. She has never been away from her
home in Newfoundland before, except to go on the fishing boats to
Labrador. They spend the summer there catching codfish, and live on
it through the winter.”
During the first week the weather was clear but quite cold. At least
AH-NI-GHI´-TO and her mother thought it was, to what they had had before
leaving home.
The old ship, called the “Windward” was very slow, and so they were
thankful when a breeze would fill the sails and help the engines push
the ship ahead.
From Sydney they sailed through the Gulf of St. Lawrence, along the
Newfoundland shore as far as the Straits of Belle Isle. Then through the
straits, where the last lighthouse was passed, and along the Labrador
coast. On July 29th letters for home were given a passing fisherman, who
promised to mail them at the nearest place in Labrador where the mail
boat would touch. This was AH-NI-GHI´-TO’S last chance to send news home
to her dear ones until she returned herself the next autumn, and in one
of her letters she wrote the following:
[Illustration:
“_Charlie the Steward_”
]
“S. S. WINDWARD,” _July 29, 1900_.
MY DEAR UNCLE,—Nearly every day has been fine.
In the Straits of Belle Isle we passed many large cakes of ice. I am
glad we had sunshine, because Captain Bartlett, whom I like very
much, says there are rocks there too. If our ship should strike
either of these it would wreck her; and we might easily run against
them if the fog was thick and he could not see ahead.
My kitty is very wild and will not come to me, though I feed her
milk and bread and try my best to make friends with her. The Captain
is very jolly, and helps me have fun. He has had a nice swing put up
for me on deck, and when our ship does not roll too much I have fine
times there.
Percy, the maid, says she never saw children play, that where she
comes from they only sit with their hands in their laps and keep
quiet. I am glad I don’t live in that place. I am teaching her to
play with my paper dolls and to play tea-party, but as she feels
seasick most of the time we do not get along very fast.
[Illustration:
“_Percy the Maid_”
]
Mother and I with Percy are at one end of the ship, while the
Captain and his men are at the other end. We live in what is called
the “after cabin” and the Captain and his officers live in the
forward saloon, but the sailors are in the forecastle; so, you see,
there is the whole length of the ship between us. I can make as much
noise at my play as I choose, without any one being able to hear me.
Percy serves our meals in our cabin, and it is just as if mother and
I lived alone on the ship.
[Illustration:
“_Captain Sam_”
]
The Captain comes down sometimes and plays checkers with me, which
is very nice of him; and I am going to call him Captain Sam, because
father has had two other captains by the name of Bartlett.
To-day it is raining and quite cold, and the poor fishermen look as
if they would rather be indoors; but they say it is a good day for
fish and they must try to get as many as they can. Mother bought
enough fish for dinner and breakfast; and now I must close, for
Captain Sam is waiting for our mail.