258 THE WORLD OF ICE.

cration of a countryman’s tomb; but the moment his
eye fell on the shred of cloth an expression of mingled
surprise and curiosity crossed his countenance, and,
without uttering a word, he slipped noiselessly into
the hole, from which he almost immediately issued
bearing several articles in his hand. These he held
up to view, and with animated words and gesticula-
tions explained that this was the grave of a white
man, not of a native,

The articles he brought out were a pewter plate
and a silver table-spoon,

“'There’s a name of some kind written here,” said
Bolton, as he carefully scrutinized the spoon. “ Look
here, Fred, your eyes are better than mine, see if you
can make it out,”

Fred took it with a trembling hand, for a strange
feeling of dread had seized possession of his heart,
and he could scarcely bring himself to look upon it.
He summoned up courage, however; but at the first
glance his hand fell down by his side, and a dimness
came over his eyes, for the word “ POLE STAR”
was cngraven on the handle. He would have fallen
to the ground had not Bolton caught him.

“Don’t give way, lad, the ship may be all richt.
Perhaps this is one o’ the crew that died.”

Fred did not answer, but recovering himself with
a strong effort, he said, “ Pull down the stones, men.”

The men obeyed in silence, and the poor boy sat
down on a rock to await the result in trembling
anxiety. A few minutes sufficed to disentomb the