58 THE WORLD OF ICH.

Watt now ?—now that thousands of iron kettles are
dashing like dreadful comets over the length and
breadth of the land, not to mention the sea, with
long tails of men and women and children behind
them !

«That's ’ow it is, siz,’ Mivins used to say, when
spoken to by Fred on the subject; “I’ve never bin in
cold countries myself, sir, but I’ve bin in ’ot, and I
knows that with a stout pair o’ legs and a will to
work, a man can work ‘is way hanywhere. Of course
there’s not much of a pop’lation in them parts, ve
heerd; but there’s Heskimos, and where one man can
live so can another, and what one man can do so can
another —that’s bin my hexperience, and Tm not
ashamed to hown it, ’m not, though I do say it as
shouldn’t, and I honour you, sir, for your filleral de-
tarmination to find your father, sir, and—”

“Steward!” shouted the captain down the cabin
skylight.

“Yes, sir!”

“ Bring me the chart.”

«Ves, sir,” and Mivins disappeared like a Jack-in-
the-box from the cabin just as Tom Singleton entered
it.

“Here we are, Fred,’ he said, seizing a telescope
that hung over the cabin door, “ within sight of the
Danish settlement of Upernavik; come on deck and
see it.”

Fred needed no second bidding. It was here that
the captain had hinted there would, probably, be some