THE CHAPEL BELL.—THE FIRST SEAL.—THE NORTH CAPE.—A SNOW-SQUALL.

the way was rough, and not without its dangers, for more than once Peter, who led the file, sprang just in time to save himself, as the treacherous crust above some yawning chasm between two heavy "Pans" crumbled under his feet; and once he fell headlong, clutching at a friendly spur, just in time to escape tumbling among a lot of jagged and flinty shards of young "crushed ice."

The wind was light at times, coming in puffs and squalls; and although the day was bright, a mist here, snowy white, there crimson with sunbeams, again darkening into purplish blue, and elsewhere of a heavy and leaden obscurity, hung over the greater part of the sky, and made it a doubtful task to prognosticate, with any degree of certainty, the state of the weather for even an hour in advance.

As they proceeded, a strangely solemn, though faint and distant, sound broke the oppressive silence. The three halted and listened intently. Again, low as the[Pg 200] moan of the dying surges on a distant bar, the sound came thrilling over the icy sea to the southward, and each face flushed with a new hope of speedy release from their wild prison-house.

"Hark!" said Orloff, raising his hand. "I hear the sound of a church bell. We must be near the land."

"It must be from the tower of the Tignish Chapel, then," said La Salle, "for no other land save the North Cape lies in our course."

Again a blast came whistling among the defiles, and again a calm succeeded. All listened in breathless silence, and again the wished-for sound which spoke of the proximity of human society and Christian worship, came pealing across the desolate wastes, deserted of everything having life, and impressing the fancy of the beholder as does the desolation of long-forgotten cities, or the shattered marbles of the unremembered dead.

"I know that place. That bell Tignish Chapel. Two year ago I camp on Tignish Lun. Make basket, catch trout, shoot flover. Go hevery Sunday to mass,—that same place,—take squaw, papoose, boy, girl, all folks. Know that bell, sure. To-day Sunday, and folks going into chapel."

"He must be right," said La Salle, "but we are now near the berg, and from its top we shall see if we are indeed near the North Cape. Make haste, Peter;[Pg 201] perhaps we may get near enough to-day to make our way to the shore."

A broad, level floe was all that intervened between the party and the berg which they sought. Running across it; although with some little difficulty, for the ice was covered with slush concealed by a crust insufficient to bear the weight of a man, they soon reached the berg. It was evidently of Arctic origin, for it was much larger than any of the many "pinnacles" in sight. It was composed of ice, which, wherever the snow had failed to lodge, appeared hard, transparent, and prismatic in the rays of the sun. Its sides were steep and precipitous, and at first the members of the party began to fear that they should be unable to mount the steep escarpment of eight or ten feet high, which formed its base, which was further defended by a moat of mingled sludge and rounded fragments, cemented by young ice.

Had the opposite bank been attainable, any of the party would have readily leaped across, trusting to their speed to save themselves from immersion among the rolling fragments; but no one cared to risk the treacherous footing beneath that inaccessible wall.

"I'm afraid we shall have to go back to our own lookout, and trust to a shift of the ice," said La Salle. "Can you think of any way of climbing that pinnacle, Peter?"

"No way do that, unless cut a way into that hice,[Pg 202] and then no safe place to stan' on, sartain, this time," answered the Indian.

"Let me have that rope," said Regnar, quietly.

Taking the light Manilla painter, he proceeded to form a large loop, and grasping it near the running knot, laid half a dozen turns across his hand. Then swinging the coil around his head, he launched the rope at a group of jagged points, which projected just above the edge of the lowest part of the cliff. Again and again the noose came back unreeved, and again and again the patient boy, with rare strength and skill, flung the ample noose over the slippery spires of ice. At last, however, success rewarded his efforts, and a strong pull, with the united weight of all three, failed to start the closely-drawn bowline. Taking the axe and bearing the most of his weight on the cord, Regnar crossed the bending surface and shifting fragments, and finding a precarious footing on the berg, wound the rope around his left arm, and with the right cut steps into the brittle ice-wall.

In a few moments he ascended the cliff, and the others, leaving their guns behind them, found little difficulty in following him. Leaving the rope still fast, the three ascended the berg, which rose high above the surrounding ice. Their first look was to the southward. For a moment the distance and the ever-present snow deceived them; but the sun came from behind a cloud, and they saw, afar off, the red sandstone face of the snow-covered cliffs of the North Cape.[Pg 203]

"They are now about twelve miles distant, and, as I judge, there can be but little open water between us and the shore. Let us hasten back and get the boat ready,............