some damage to her bottom, but not sufficient to incapacitate her, as
it was found the hole could be plugged. The weather turned bitterly
cold, and the circulating pipes of the motor froze and burst. This was
a more serious accident, but it was temporarily repaired while
Grenfell bivouaced ashore, sleeping at night under the stars with a
bed of juniper boughs for a mattress and an open fire to keep him
warm.
Ice now blocked the way to the southward, though open leads of water
to the northward offered opportunity to retreat, and, with the motor
boat in a crippled condition, it was decided to return to St. Anthony
and make an attempt, with fresh equipment, to try a route through the
Straits of Belle Isle.
They were still some miles from St. Anthony when they found it
necessary to abandon the motor boat in one of the small harbor
settlements. Leaving it in charge of the people, Grenfell borrowed a
small rowboat. Rowing the small boat through open lanes and hauling it
over obstructing ice pans they made slow progress and the month of May
was nearing its close when one day the pack suddenly drove in upon
them.
They were fairly caught. Ice surrounded them on every side. The boat
was in imminent danger of being crushed before they realized their
danger. Grenfell and his companion sprang from the boat to a pan, and
seizing the prow of the boat hauled upon it with the energy of
desperation. They succeeded in raising the prow upon the ice, but they
were too late. The edge of the ice was high and the pans were moving
rapidly, and to their chagrin they heard a smashing and splintering of
wood, and the next instant were aware that the stern of the boat had
been completely bitten off and that they were adrift on an ice pan,
cut off from the land by open water.
An inspection of the boat proved that it was wrecked beyond repair.
All of the after part had been cut off and ground to pulp between the
ice pans. In the distance, to the westward, rose the coast, a grim
outline of rocky bluffs. Between them and the shore the sea was dotted
with pans and pieces of ice, separated by canals of black water. The
men looked at each other in consternation as they realized that they
had no means of reaching land and safety, and that a few hours might
find them far out on the Atlantic.
In the hope of attracting attention, Dr. Grenfell and William Taylor,
his companion, fired their guns at regular intervals. Expectantly they
waited, but there was no answering signal from shore and no sign of
life anywhere within their vision.
For a long while they waited and watched and signalled. With a turn in
the tide it became evident, finally, that the pan on which they were
marooned was drifting slowly seaward. If this continued they would
soon be out of sight of land, and then all hope of rescue would
vanish.
"I'll tell you what I'll do, now," suggested Taylor. "I'll copy toward
shore. I'll try to get close enough for some one to see me."
To "copy" is to jump from one pan or piece of ice to another. The gaps
of water separating them are sometimes wide, and a man must be a good
jumper who lands. Some of the pieces of ice are quite too small to
bear a man's weight, and he must leap instantly to the next or he will
sink with the ice. It is perilous work at best, and much too dangerous
for any one to attempt without much practice and experience.
They had a boat hook with them, and taking it to assist in the long
leaps, Taylor started shore-ward. Dr. Grenfell watched him anxiously
as he sprang from pan to pan making a zigzag course toward shore, now
and again taking hair-raising risks, sometimes resting for a moment on
a substantial pan while he looked ahead to select his route, then
running, and using the boat hook as a vaulting pole, spanning a wide
chasm. Then, suddenly, Dr. Grenfell saw him totter, throw up his hands
and disappear beneath the surface of the water. In a hazardous leap he
had missed his footing, or a small cake of ice had turned under his
weight.
XXII
SAVING A LIFE
It was a terrible moment for Grenfell when he saw his friend disappear
beneath the icy waves. Would the cold so paralyze him as to render him
helpless? Would he be caught under an ice pan? A hundred such thoughts
flashed through Grenfell's mind as he stood, impotent to help because
of the distance between them. Then to his great joy he saw Taylor rise
to the surface and scramble out upon a pan in safety.
The ice was too far separated now for Taylor either to advance or
retreat, and the pan upon which he had taken refuge began a rapid
drift seaward. He had made a valiant effort, but the attempt had
failed.
Grenfell resumed firing his gun, still hoping that some one might hear
it and come to their rescue. Time passed and Taylor drifted abreast of
Grenfell and finally drifted past him. Then, in the far distance,
Grenfell glimpsed the flash of an oar. The flash was repeated with
rhythmic regularity. The outlines of a boat came into view. The men
shouted the good news to each other. Help was coming!
The signals had been heard, and in due time, and with much
thankfulness, Dr. Grenfell and William Taylor were safely in the boat
and on their way to St. Anthony.
Not long after his return to St. Anthony, the ice drifted eastward and
an open strip of sea appeared leading northward toward the Straits of
Belle Isle. The ice was now a full mile off shore, it was the
beginning of June, and Dr. Grenfell, expecting that at this late
season the Straits would be open for navigation, had the _Strathcona_
made ready for sea at once, and with high hopes, stowed the anchor and
steamed northward. It was his plan to have the vessel carry him
westward through the Straits and land him at some port on the west
coast of Newfoundland where he could take passage on the regular mail
boat, which he had been advised had begun its summer service. Thence
he could continue his trip to New York, where the important meeting
had been adjourned several times in expectation of his coming.
But again he was doomed to disappointment. The Straits were found to
be packed from shore to shore with heavy floe ice and clogged with
icebergs. Before the _Strathcona_ could make her escape she was
surrounded by ice and frozen tight and fast into the floe.
[Illustration: "THE HOSPITAL SHIP. STRATHCONA"]
Grenfell was determined to reach New York and attend that meeting. It
was supremely important that he do so. Now there was but one way to
reach the mail boat, and that was to walk. The distance to the nearest
port of call was ninety miles.
Making up a pack of food, cooking utensils, bedding and a suit of
clothes that would permit him to present a civilized and respectable
appearance when he reached New York, he made ready for the long
overland journey. Shouldering his big pack, he bade goodbye to Mrs.
Grenfell, who was with him on the _Strathcona_, and to the crew, and
set out over the ice pack to the land.
Three days later Dr. Grenfell reached the harbor where he was to board
the mail boat upon her arrival. He was wearied and stiff in his joints
after the hard overland hike with a heavy pack on his back, and
looking forward to rest and a good meal, he went directly to the home
of a mission clergyman living in the little village.
His welcome was hearty, as a welcome always is on this coast. The
clergyman showered him with kindnesses. A pot of steaming tea and an
appetizing meal was on the table in a jiffy. It was luxury after the
long days on the trail and Grenfell sat down with anticipation of keen
enjoyment.
At the moment that Grenfell seated himself the door opened
unceremoniously, and an excited fisherman burst into the room with the
exclamation:
"For God's sake, some one come! Come and save my brother's life! He's
bleeding to death!"
Dr. Grenfell learned in a few hurried inquiries that the man's
brother had accidentally shot his leg nearly off an hour before and
was already in a comatose condition from loss of blood. The family
lived five miles distant, and the only way to reach the cabin where
the wounded man lay was on foot.
Grenfell forgot all about the steaming tea, the good meal and rest. A
moment's delay might cost the man his life. Grenfell ran. Over that
five miles of broken country he ran as he had never run before, with
the half-frenzied fisherman leading the way.
The wounded man was a young fellow of twenty. Dr. Grenfell knew him
well. He was a hero of the world war. He had volunteered when a mere
boy, served bravely through four years of the terrible conflict and
though he had taken part in many of the great battles he had lived to
return to his home and his fishing.
"I never knew a better cure for stiffness than a splendid chance for
serving," said Grenfell in referring to that run from the missionary's
home to the fisherman's cottage. All his stiff joints and weary
muscles were forgotten as he ran.
When Dr. Grenfell entered the room where the man lay, he found the
young fisherman soaked with blood and sea water, lying stretched upon
a hard table. The remnant of his shattered leg rested upon a feather
pillow and was strung up to the ceiling in an effort to stop the flow
of blood. He was moaning, but was practically unconscious, and barely
alive.
The room was crowded to suffocation with weeping relatives and
sympathetic neighbors. Dr. Grenfell cleared it at once. The place was
small and the light poor and a difficult place in which to treat so
critical a case or to operate successfully. He had no surgical
instruments or medicines, and even for him, accustomed as he was to
work under handicaps and difficulties, a serious problem confronted
him.
The man was so far gone that an operation seemed hopeless, but
nevertheless it was worth trying. Grenfell sent messengers far and
near for reserve supplies that he had left at various points to be
drawn upon in cases of emergency, and in a little while had at his
command some opiates, a small amount of ether, some silk for
ligatures, some crude substitutes for instruments, and the supply of
communal wine from the missionary's little church, five miles away.
While these things had been gathered in, the flow of blood had been
abated by the use of a tourniquet. There was scarcely enough ether to
be of use, but with the assistance of two men Dr. Grenfell applied it
and operated.
One of the assistants fainted, but the other stuck faithfully to his
post, and with a cool head and steady hand did Dr. Grenfell's bidding.
The operation was performed successfully, and the young soldier's
life was saved through Dr. Grenfell's skillful treatment. Today this
fisherman has but one leg, but he is well and happy and a useful man
in the world.
Fate takes a hand in our lives sometimes, and plays strange pranks
with us. In New York a group of gentlemen were impatiently awaiting
the arrival of Dr. Grenfell, while he, in an isolated cottage on the
rugged coast of Northern Newfoundland was saving a fisherman's life,
and in the importance and joy of this service had perhaps for the time
quite forgotten the gentlemen and the meeting and even New York.
Perhaps Providence had a hand in it all. If the water lanes had not
closed, and the motor boat had not been damaged, and Dr. Grenfell and
William Taylor had not been sent adrift on the ice, and no obstacles
had stood in the way of Dr. Grenfell's journey to New York, and the
_Strathcona_ had not been frozen into the ice pack, in all probability
this brave young soldier and fisherman would have died. There is no
doubt that _he_ believes God set the stage to send Dr. Grenfell on
that ninety-mile hike.
XXIII
REINDEER AND OTHER THINGS
Hunting in a northern wilderness is never to be depended upon.
Sometimes game is plentiful, and sometimes it is scarcely to be had at
all. This is the case both with fur bearing animals and food game. So
it is in Labrador. When I have been in that country I have depended
upon my gun to get my living, just as the Indians do. One year I all
but starved to death, because caribou and other game was scarce. Other
years I have lived in plenty, with a caribou to shoot whenever I
needed meat.
In Labrador the Eskimos and liveyeres rely upon the seals to supply
them with the greater part of their dog feed, supplemented by fish,
cod heads and nearly any offal. The Eskimos eat seal meat, too, with a
fine relish, both cooked and raw, and when the seals are not too old
their meat, properly cooked, is very good eating indeed for anybody.
The Indians rely on the caribou, or wild reindeer, to furnish their
chief food supply, and to a large extent the caribou is also the chief
meat animal of the liveyeres.
Sometimes caribou are plentiful enough on certain sections of the
coast north of Hamilton Inlet. I remember that in January, 1903, an
immense herd came out to the coast north of Hamilton Inlet, They
passed in thousands in front of a liveyere's cabin, and standing in
his door the liveyere shot with his rifle more than one hundred of
them, only stopping his slaughter when his last cartridge was used.
From up and down the coast for a hundred miles Eskimos and liveyeres
came with dogs and komatik to haul the carcasses to their homes, for
the liveyere who killed the animals gave to those who had killed none
all that he could not use himself, and none was wasted.
That was a year of plenty. Oftener than not no caribou come within
reach of the folk that live on the coast, and in these frequent
seasons of scarcity the only meat they have in winter is the salt pork
they buy at the trading posts, if they have the means to buy it,
together with the rabbits and grouse they hunt, and, in the wooded
districts, an occasional porcupine. Now and again, to be sure, a polar
bear is killed, but this is seldom. Owls are eaten with no less relish
than partridges, and lynx meat is excellent, as I can testify from
experience.
But the smaller game is not sufficient to supply the needs and it
occurred to Doctor Grenfell that, if the Lapland reindeer could be
introduced, this animal would not only prove superior to the dog for
driving, but would also furnish a regular supply of meat to the
people, and also milk for the babies.
The domestic reindeer is a species of caribou. In other words, the
caribou is the wild reindeer. The domestic and the wild animals eat
the same food, the gray caribou moss, which carpets northern
Newfoundland and the whole of Labrador, furnishing an inexhaustible
supply of forage everywhere in forest and in barrens. The Lapland
reindeer had been introduced into Alaska and northwestern Canada with
great success. They would thrive equally well in Labrador and
Newfoundland.
With this in mind Doctor Grenfell learned all he could about reindeer
and reindeer raising. The more he studied the subject the better
convinced he was that domesticated reindeer introduced into Labrador
would prove a boon to the people. He appealed to some of his generous
friends and they subscribed sufficient money to undertake the
experiment.
In 1907 three hundred reindeer were purchased and landed safely at St.
Anthony, Newfoundland. With experienced Lapland herders to care for
them they were turned loose in the open country. For a time the herd
grew and thrived and the prospects for complete success of the
experiment were bright.
It was Doctor Grenfell's policy to first demonstrate the usefulness of
reindeer in Newfoundland, and finally transfer a part of the herd to
Labrador. The great difficulty that stood in the way of rearing the
animals in eastern Labrador was the vicious wolf dogs. It was obvious
that dogs and reindeer could not live together, for the dogs would
hunt and kill the inoffensive reindeer just as their primitive
progenitors, the wolves, hunt and kill the wild caribou.
Because of the dogs, no domestic animals can be kept in eastern
Labrador. Once Malcolm MacLean, a Scotch settler at Carter's Basin, in
Hamilton Inlet, imported a cow. He built a strong stable for it
adjoining his cabin. Twelve miles away, at Northwest River, the dogs
one winter night when the Inlet had frozen sniffed the air blowing
across the ice. They smelled the cow. Like a pack of wolves they were
off. They trailed the scent those twelve miles over the ice to the
door of the stable where Malcolm's cow was munching wild hay. They
broke down the stable door, and before Malcolm was aware of what was
taking place the cow was killed and partly devoured.
For generations untold, Labradormen have kept dogs for hauling their
loads and the dogs have served them well. They were not willing to
substitute reindeer. They knew their dogs and they did not know the
reindeer, and they refused to kill their dogs. To educate them to the
change it was evident would be a long process.
In the meantime the herd in Newfoundland was growing. In 1911 it
numbered one thousand head, and in 1912 approximated thirteen hundred.
Then an epidemic attacked them and numbers died. Following this,
illegitimate hunting of the animals began, and without proper means
of guarding them Doctor Grenfell decided to turn them over to the
Canadian Government.
During those strenuous years of war, when food was so scarce, a good
many of the herd had been killed by poachers. Perhaps we cannot blame
the poachers, for when a man's family is hungry he will go to lengths
to get food for his children, and Doctor Grenfell recognized the
stress of circumstances that led men to kill his animals and carry off
the meat. The epidemic, as stated, had proved fatal to a considerable
number of the animals, and the herd therefore was much reduced in
size. The remnant were corralled in 1918, and shipped to the Canadian
Government at St. Augustine, in southern Labrador, where they are now
thriving and promise marvelous results.
Some day Doctor Grenfell's efforts with reindeer will prove a great
success at least in southern Labrador, where the dogs are less
vicious, and play a less important part in the life of the people than
on the eastern coast. Upon these thousands of acres of uncultivated
and otherwise useless land the reindeer will multiply until they will
not only feed the people of Labrador but will become no small part of
the meat supply of eastern Canada. His introduction of reindeer into
southern Labrador will be remembered as one of the great acts of his
great life of activity. Their introduction was the introduction of an
industry that will in time place the people of this section in a
position of thrifty independence.
There never was yet a man with any degree of self-respect who did not
wish to pay his own way in the world. Every real man wishes to stand
squarely upon his own feet, and pay for what he receives. To accept
charity from others always makes a man feel that he has lost out in
the battle of life. It robs him of ambition for future effort and of
self-reliance and self-respect.
Doctor Grenfell has always recognized this human characteristic. It
was evident to him when he entered the mission field in Labrador that
in seasons when the fisheries failed and no fur could be trapped a
great many of the people in Labrador and some in northern Newfoundland
would be left without a means of earning their living. There are no
factories there and no work to be had except at the fisheries in the
summer, trapping in winter and the brief seal hunt in the spring and
fall. When any of these fail, the pantries are empty and the men and
their families must suffer. But most of the people are too proud to
admit their poverty when a season of poverty comes to them. They are
eager for work and willing and ready always to turn their hand to
anything that offers a chance to earn a dollar.
To provide for such emergencies Grenfell, many years ago, established
a lumber camp in the north of Newfoundland, and at Canada Bay in the
extreme northeast a ship building yard where schooners and other small
craft could be built, and nearly everyone out of work could find
employment.
In southern and eastern Labrador, where wood is to be had for the
cutting, he arranged to purchase such wood as the people might deliver
to his vessels. In return for the wood he gave clothing and other
supplies.
Then came mat and rug weaving, spinning and knitting and basket
making. Through Grenfell's efforts volunteer teachers went north in
summers to teach the people these useful arts. He supplied looms.
Every one was eager to learn and today Labrador women are making rugs,
baskets and various saleable articles in their homes, and Grenfell
sells for them in the "States" and Canada all they make. Thus a new
means of earning a livelihood was opened to the women, where formerly
there was nothing to which they could turn their hand to earn money
when the men were away at the hunting and trapping.
Mrs. Grenfell has more recently introduced the art of making
artificial flowers. The women learned it readily, and their product is
quite equal to that of the French makers.
Doctor Grenfell had been many years on the coast before he was
married. Mrs. Grenfell was Miss Anna MacCalahan, of Chicago. Upon her
marriage to Doctor Grenfell, Mrs. Grenfell went with him to his
northern field. She cruises with him on his hospital ship, the
_Strathcona_, acting as his secretary, braving stormy seas, and
working for the people with all his own self-sacrificing devotion. She
is a noble inspiration in his great work, and the "mother of the
coast."
Doctor Grenfell has established a school at St. Anthony open not only
to the orphans of the children's home but to all the children of the
coast. There are schools on the Labrador also, connected with the
mission. It is a fine thing to see the eagerness of the Labrador boys
and girls to learn. They are offered an opportunity through Doctor
Grenfell's thoughtfulness that their parents never had and they
appreciate it. It is no exaggeration to say that they enjoy their
schools quite as much as our boys and girls enjoy moving pictures, and
they give as close attention to their books and to the instruction as
any of us would give to a picture. They look upon the school as a fine
gift, as indeed it is. The teachers are giving them something every
day--a much finer thing than a new sled or a new doll--knowledge that
they will carry with them all their lives and that they can use
constantly. And so it happens that study is not work to them.
How much Doctor Grenfell has done for the Labrador! How much he is
doing every day! How much more he would do if those who have in
abundance would give but a little more to aid him! How much happiness
he has spread and is spreading in that northland!
XXIV
THE SAME GRENFELL
Doctor Grenfell is not alone the doctor of the coast. He is also a
duly appointed magistrate, and wherever he happens to be on Sundays,
where there is no preacher to conduct religious services, and it
rarely happens there is one, for preachers are scarce on the coast, he
takes the preacher's place. It does not matter whether it is a Church
of England, a Presbyterian, a Methodist, or a Baptist congregation, he
speaks to the people and conducts the service with fine unsectarian
religious devotion. Grenfell is a deeply religious man, and in his
religious life there is no buncomb or humbug. He lives what he
preaches. In his audiences at his Sunday services are Protestants and
Roman Catholics alike, and they all love him and will travel far to
hear him.
Norman Duncan, in that splendid book, "Doctor Grenfell's Parish,"
tells the story of a man who had committed a great wrong, amounting to
a crime. The man was brought before Grenfell, as Labrador magistrate.
He acknowledged his crime, but was defiant. The man cursed the
doctor.
"You will do as I tell you," said the Doctor, "or I will put you under
arrest, and lock you up."
The man laughed, and called Doctor Grenfell's attention to the fact
that he was outside his judicial district, and had no power to make
the arrest.
"Never mind," warned the Doctor quietly. "I have a crew strong enough
to take you into my district."
The man retorted that he, also, had a crew.
"Are the men of your crew loyal enough to fight for you?" asked the
Doctor. "There's going to be a fight if you don't submit without it.
This is what you must do," he continued. "You will come to the church
service at seven o'clock on Sunday evening, and before the whole
congregation you will confess your crime."
Again the man cursed the Doctor and defied him. It happened that this
man was a rich trader and felt his power.
The man did not appear at the church on Sunday evening. Doctor
Grenfell announced to the congregation that the man was to appear to
confess and receive judgment, and he asked every one to keep his seat
while he went to fetch the fellow.