Grenfell is an ideal type of peace Scout, and during his labours as a
missionary in Labrador he has had many adventures.
On one occasion he had to visit a sick man at a place two days' journey from where he
lived, and he started off with his sledge and team of dogs, to cross a frozen arm of the sea,
which would save him a long journey round by land. But it was in the month of April,
when the sea ice was beginning to get treacherous and to break up.
The distance across the ice was about seven miles, with an island about half-way.
He reached the island all right, and was pushing on from there to the opposite mainland,
when he found that the ice was becoming rotten and soft--what is called "sish"--that is,
pounded ice formed from big slabs which have been ground together by the action of the
sea.
As he found himself sinking in this, together with his sledge, he slipped off his heavy
oilskins and coat, and quickly got out his knife and cut the traces of his dog-team,
winding the leader's trace round his wrist.
In this way he was himself pulled along by the dogs plunging through the slush. The
leading dog got on to a solid ice-floe, and Grenfell was gladly hauling himself up to him
by the trace, when the dog slipped all his harness off, and his master was left, sinking
among the other dogs in the "sish."
Then he luckily caught the trace of another, and pulled himself along that till he managed
to get on to the block of ice, on to which he helped the rest of the dogs.
But it was quite a small block, which would soon break up, so he saw that the only
chance was to struggle on through the "porridge-ice" till he could reach a bigger floe,
which could serve as a raft for him.
He did not, as some people might have done, give up all hope; he wasn't going to say die
till he was dead.
So he took off his gauntlets and moccasins and packed them on to the dogs' backs, then
he secured their harness so that it could not slip off, and tied the traces round his wrists so
that the team would drag him through; then he tried to start.
But the dogs did not like facing the danger, and he had to push them off the block; even
then they only struggled to get back, till a particularly favourite dog understanding him
when he threw a bit of ice on to another "pan" or block? started, and so led the others to
get to it.
In this way, dragging their master after them, the dogs struggled from pan to pan, till at
last they reached one larger than the rest, about ten feet by twelve in size.
It was not real solid ice, but a block of powdered ice, which might fall to bits at any time.
Still, it was the best they could get, and with the rising wind and current it soon floated
with them on to more open water, and began to drift away from the shore and down the
coast. So they had no choice but to make the best of a very poor substitute for a raft,
The cold was intense, and poor Grenfell, like a clever Scout, at once thought out a plan
for making himself a coat. His moccasins were long, soft boots made of sealskin reaching
to the thigh, so he slit these up with his knife, and, by means of a bit of line, he made
them into a kind of cape to put on his back.
Hours passed, and they kept drifting out from the coast, and night was approaching.
Then he saw that he must have more clothing, and also that he and the dogs must have
some food the only thing to do was to sacrifice one of his beloved team. So he made a
noose with one of the traces, and slipped it over a dog's neck, and tied it to his own foot;
then, holding its head down in this way, he threw the dog on its back, and stabbed it to
the heart.
Two more were killed in the same way. Then he skinned them and stitched their hides
together with thin strips of leather, and thus made himself a coat, with the fur inside.
All the clothes he had had on till then were some old football things he had come across
that morning in his house. A pair of football shorts and stockings of the Richmond
Football Club (red, yellow, and black), and a flannel shirt and sweater, so he was
practically in Boy Scout's kit rather than
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