"Grayton, 25th July.
"My Darling Fred,
"It is now two months since you left us, and it seems to me two years.
Oh, how I _do_ wish that you were back! When I think of the terrible
dangers that you may be exposed to amongst the ice my heart sinks, and I
sometimes fear that we shall never see you or your dear father again.
But you are in the hands of our Father in heaven, dear Fred, and I never
cease to pray that you may be successful and return to us in safety.
Dear, good old Mr Singleton told me yesterday that he had an
opportunity of sending to the Danish settlements in Greenland, so I
resolved to write, though I very much doubt whether this will ever find
you in such a wild far-off land.
"Oh, when I think of where you are, all the romantic stories I have ever
read of Polar regions spring up before me, and _you_ seem to be the hero
of them all. But I must not waste my paper thus. I know you will be
anxious for news. I have very little to give you, however. Good old
Mr Singleton has been _very_ kind to us since you went away. He comes
constantly to see us, and comforts dear Mamma very much. Your friend,
Dr Singleton, will be glad to hear that he is well and strong. Tell my
friend Buzzby that his wife sends her `compliments'. I laugh while I
write the word! Yes, she actually sends er `compliments' to her
husband. She is a very stern but a really excellent woman. Mamma and I
visit her frequently when we chance to be in the village. Her two boys
are the finest little fellows I ever saw. They are both so like each
other that we cannot tell which is which when they are apart, and both
are so like their father that we can almost fancy we see him, when
looking at either of them.
"The last day we were there, however, they were in disgrace, for Johnny
had pushed Freddy into the washing-tub, and Freddy, in revenge, had
poured a jug of treacle over Johnny's head! I am quite sure that Mrs
Buzzby is tired of being a widow--as she calls herself--and will be very
glad when her husband comes back. But I must reserve chit-chat to the
end of my letter, and first give you a minute account of all your
friends."
Here followed six pages of closely-written quarto, which, however
interesting they might be to those concerned, cannot be expected to
afford much entertainment to our readers, so we will cut Isobel's letter
short at this point.
"Cap'n's ready to go aboord, sir," said O'Riley, touching his cap to
Captain Ellice while he was yet engaged in discussing the letter with
his son.
"Very good."
"An', plaaze sir, av ye'll take the throuble to look in at Mrs Meetuck
in passin', it'll do yer heart good, it will."
"Very well, we'll look in," replied the captain as he quitted the house
of the worthy pastor.
The personage whom O'Riley chose to style Mrs Meetuck was Meetuck's
grandmother. That old lady was an Esquimaux whose age might be
algebraically expressed as an _unknown quantity_. She lived in a boat
turned upside down, with a small window in the bottom of it, and a hole
in the side for a door. When Captain Ellice and Fred looked in, the old
woman, who was a mere mass of bones and wrinkles, was seated on a heap
of moss beside a fire, the only chimney to which was a hole in the
bottom of the boat. In front of her sat her grandson, Meetuck, and on a
cloth spread out at her feet were displayed all the presents with which
that good hunter had been loaded by his comrades of the _Dolphin_.
Meetuck's mother had died many years before, and all the affection in
his naturally warm heart was transferred to, and centred upon, his old
grandmother. Meetuck's chief delight in the gifts he received was in
sharing them, as far as possible, with the old woman. We say _as far as
possible_, because some things could not be shared with her, such as a
splendid new rifle, and a silver-mounted hunting-knife and powder-horn,
all of which had been presented to him by Captain Guy over and above his
wages, as a reward for his valuable services. But the trinkets of every
kind which had been given to him by the men were laid at the feet of the
old woman, who looked at everything in blank amazement yet with a smile
on her wrinkled visage that betokened much satisfaction. Meetuck's oily
countenance beamed with delight as he sat puffing his pipe in his
grandmother's face. This little attention, we may remark, was paid
designedly, for the old woman liked it, and the youth knew that.
"They have enough to make them happy for the winter," said Captain
Ellice, as he turned to leave the hut.
"Faix, they have. There's only two things wantin' to make it complate."
"What are they?" enquired Fred.
"Murphies and a pig, sure. That's all they need."
"Wots come o' Dumps and Poker?" enquired Buzzby, as they reached the
boat.
"Oh, I quite forgot them!" cried Fred; "stay a minute, I'll run up and
find them. They can't be far off."
For some time Fred searched in vain. At last he bethought him of
Meetuck's hut, as being a likely spot, in which to find them. On
entering he found the couple as he had left them, the only difference
being that the poor old woman seemed to be growing sleepy over her joys.
"Have you seen Dumps or Poker anywhere?" enquired Fred.
Meetuck nodded and pointed to a corner where, comfortably rolled up on a
mound of dry moss, lay Dumps; Poker, as usual, making use of him as a
pillow.
"Thems is go bed," said Meetuck.
"Thems must get up then and come aboard," cried Fred, whistling.
At first the dogs, being sleepy, seemed indisposed to move, but at last
they consented, and, following Fred to the beach, were soon conveyed
aboard the ship.
Next day Captain Guy and his men bade Meetuck and the kind, hospitable
people of Uppernavik farewell, and, spreading their canvas to a fair
breeze, set sail for England.