MA T W O C K, the huge polar bear, 

 drifted down from the Arctic on an 

 iceberg and landed, one spring night in 

 the fog, at Little Harbor Home on the east 

 Newfoundland coast. 



It seemed at first a colossal fatality, that 

 iceberg. The fishermen had just brought 

 their families back from the winter lodge in 

 the woods, and had made their boats ready 

 to go out to the Hook-and-Line Grounds for 

 a few fresh cod to keep themselves alive. 

 Then a heavy fog shut in, and in the midst 



of the fog the iceberg came blundering into 



299 



/ I 



