Escape to Upernavik—Letter from home—Meetuck's grandmother—Dumps and Poker again.

For three long weeks the shipwrecked mariners were buffeted by winds and waves in open boats, but at last they were guided in safety through all their dangers and vicissitudes to the colony of Upernavik. Here they found several vessels on the point of setting out for Europe, one of which was bound for England, and in this vessel the crew of the Dolphin resolved to ship.

Nothing of particular interest occurred at this solitary settlement except one thing, but that one thing was a great event, and deserves very special notice. It was nothing less than the receipt of a letter by Fred from his cousin Isobel! Fred and Isobel, having been brought up for several years together, felt towards each other like brother and sister.

Fred received the letter from the pastor of the settlement shortly after landing, while his father and the captain were on board the English brig making arrangements for their passage home. He could scarcely believe his eyes when he beheld the well-known hand; but having at last come to realize the fact that he actually held a real letter in his hand, he darted behind one of the curious, primitive cottages to read it. Here he was met by a squad of inquisitive natives, so with a gesture of impatience he rushed to another spot; but he was observed and followed by half-a-dozen Esquimau boys, and in despair he sought refuge in the small church near which he chanced to be. He had not been there a second, however, when two old women came in, and, approaching him, began to scan him with critical eyes. This was too much, so Fred thrust the letter into his bosom, darted out, and was instantly surrounded by a band of natives, who began to question him in an unknown tongue. Seeing that there was no other resource, Fred turned round and fled towards the mountains at a pace that defied pursuit, and, coming to a halt in the midst of a rocky gorge that might have served as an illustration of what chaos was, he sat down behind a big rock to peruse Isobel's letter.

Having read it, he re-read it; having re-read it, he read it over again. Having read it over again, he meditated a little, exclaiming several times emphatically, "My darling Isobel," and then he read bits of it here and there; having done which, he read the other bits, and so got through it again. As the letter was a pretty long one, it took him a considerable time to do all this. Then it suddenly occurred to him that he had been thus selfishly keeping it all to himself instead of sharing it with his father; so he started up and hastened back to the village, where he found Captain Ellice in earnest confabulation with the pastor of the place. Seizing his parent by the arm, Fred led him into a room in the pastor's house, and, looking round to make sure that it was empty, he sought to bolt the door. But the door was a primitive one and had no bolt, so Fred placed a huge old-fashioned chair against it, and sitting down therein, while his father took a seat opposite, he unfolded the letter, and yet once again read it through.

The letter was about twelve months old, and ran thus:—

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 her '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 villa............