Ungava Bob A Winter's Tale   By: Dillon Wallace (1863-1939)

UNGAVA BOB

A Winter's Tale

by

DILLON WALLACE

Author of The Lure of the Labrador Wild

Illustrated by Samuel M. Palmer

New York Grosset & Dunlap Publishers

1907

Third Edition

[Illustration: Three of the men hauled, the other with a pole, kept it clear of the rocks ( See page 45 )]

To My Sisters Annie and Jessie

CONTENTS

I. HOW BOB GOT HIS "TRAIL" 9

II. OFF TO THE BUSH 26

III. AN ADVENTURE WITH A BEAR 37

IV. SWEPT AWAY IN THE RAPIDS 50

V. THE TRAILS ARE REACHED 56

VI. ALONE IN THE WILDERNESS 68

VII. A STREAK OF GOOD LUCK 76

VIII. MICMAC JOHN'S REVENGE 87

IX. LOST IN THE SNOW 96

X. THE PENALTY 108

XI. THE TRAGEDY OF THE TRAIL 115

XII. IN THE HANDS OF THE NASCAUPEES 129

XIII. A FOREBODING OF EVIL 140

XIV. THE SHADOW OF DEATH 153

XV. IN THE WIGWAM OF SISHETAKUSHIN 171

XVI. ONE OF THE TRIBE 187

XVII. STILL FARTHER NORTH 199

XVIII. A MISSION OF TRUST 206

XIX. AT THE MERCY OF THE WIND 226

XX. PRISONERS OF THE SEA 240

XXI. ADRIFT ON THE ICE 254

XXII. THE MAID OF THE NORTH 269

XXIII. THE HAND OF PROVIDENCE 280

XXIV. THE ESCAPE 290

XXV. THE BREAK UP 304

XXVI. BACK AT WOLF BIGHT 315

XXVII. THE CRUISE TO ST. JOHN'S 333

XXVIII. IN AFTER YEARS 341

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

FACING PAGE

THREE OF THE MEN HAULED, THE OTHER WITH A POLE, KEPT IT CLEAR OF THE ROCKS Title

"BOB JUMPED OUT WITH THE PAINTER IN HIS HAND." 21

CHART OF THE TRAILS. 64

"MICMAC JOHN KNEW HIS END HAD COME." 114

"IT WAS DANGEROUS WORK." 173

"SAW HER STANDING IN THE BRIGHT MOONLIGHT." 197

"HE HELD THE VESSEL STEADILY TO HER COURSE." 298

UNGAVA BOB

I

HOW BOB GOT HIS "TRAIL"

It was an evening in early September twenty years ago. The sun was just setting in a radiance of glory behind the dark spruce forest that hid the great unknown, unexplored Labrador wilderness which stretched away a thousand miles to the rocky shores of Hudson's Bay and the bleak desolation of Ungava. With their back to the forest and the setting sun, drawn up in martial line stood the eight or ten whitewashed log buildings of the Hudson's Bay Company Post, just as they had stood for a hundred years, and just as they stand to day, looking out upon the wide waters of Eskimo Bay, which now, reflecting the glow of the setting sun, shone red and sparkling like a sea of rubies.

On a clearing to the eastward of the post between the woods and water was an irregular cluster of deerskin wigwams, around which loitered dark hued Indians puffing quietly at their pipes, while Indian women bent over kettles steaming at open fires, cooking the evening meal, and little Indian boys with bows shot harmless arrows at soaring gulls overhead, and laughed joyously at their sport as each arrow fell short of its mark. Big wolf dogs skulked here and there, looking for bits of refuse, snapping and snarling ill temperedly at each other.