204 THE LAST CEUISE OF THE MIKAKDA. 



A favoring breeze freshened our hopes as it speeded us in 

 the direction of Kangarmuit. That evening's sail was rare 

 sport. The wind grew stronger and stronger, driving us 

 along at a pace that left our swift kayaker far astern, and we 

 were finally obliged to lay to iinder the lee of an island to 

 await his coming. When we had taken him and his canoe 

 aboard we numbered eleven persons, who, with the tents, 

 provisions, and sundry luggage, weighted our twenty-foot 

 boat about to her limit. How well I remember that evening ! 

 We six were snugly packed in the stern, our knees locked, 

 and every inch of room occupied. In the bow were the four 

 Huskie sailors, and behind us sat old Jacob Neilson, our half- 

 breed pilot, blind in one eye, but, as we had many oppor- 

 tunities to prove, still skilful in the art of sailing between 

 dangerous shoals and ugly-looking reefs. 



Toward eleven o'clock it grew moderately dark, and heavy 

 gusts of wind began to sweep over the water at frequent 

 intervals, gradually increasing in strength. One of the sails 

 had to be taken in, and often the second also, when a partic- 

 ularly heavy blast made the little boat tip to one side until the 

 water flowed over the gunwale. The Huskies, crouched low 

 on the windward side, kept a close lookout for the squalls. 

 Every minute or two came their warning shouts to Jacob, and 

 a moment later the strain upon the masts bore witness to the 

 keen sight of the natives. Our pilot's skill never failed him, 

 however, and we soon acquired confidence in him and the 

 staunch little boat. The shoals and reefs which surrounded 

 us looked ominous in the dusky light, but only once did they 

 seriously threaten us ; and then our rudder became unshipped 

 and we were being driven rapidly toward the rocky shore. 

 The oars were quickly put in place, and a little vigorous pull- 

 ing prevented any accident. 



As we neared Kangarmuit we got under the lee of the 

 islands. The sailing grew quiet and less exciting. The 



