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Wallace, Dillon, 1863-1939

"Bobby of the Labrador"

It's ambition to catch silvers, and the hope of catching them,
that makes the world go round."
"Well, I never got one yet," said Bobby, "and there's one due me by
this time. Every one gets a silver some time in his life."
"Not every one," corrected Skipper Ed. "Well, shall we haul the seals
over in the morning, and then go home to see if we've got any silvers in
the traps?"
"I suppose so," agreed Bobby, regretfully. "It's hard to leave this fine
hunting, but I suppose there'll be good hunting till the ice goes out,
and anyway we've got all we can use."
So with break of day on Friday they loaded their sledges, and all that
day hauled seals to their cache, and when night came and they returned
in the dark to the _sena igloo_, some seals still remained to be hauled
on Saturday.
But the sun did not show himself on Saturday morning, for the sky was
heavily overcast, and before they reached Itigailit Island with the
first load of seals snow was falling and the wind was rising. They
hurried with all their might, for it was evident a storm was about to
break with the fury of the North, and out on the open ice field, where
the wind rides unobstructed and unbridled, these storms reach terrible
proportions.
So they pushed the dogs back to the _sena_ at the fastest gait to which
they could urge them. Skipper Ed and Jimmy were in advance and had
Skipper Ed's _komatik_ loaded with the larger proportion of the
remaining seals, and were lashing the load into place, when Bobby
arrived.


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