CHAPTER XXI.
A WELCOME MISSIONARY.
Although the outer garments of wolf fur belonging to the mysterious stranger were also missing, our lads were not at first at all uneasy concerning his absence, but imagined that their guest had merely gone for a breath of fresh air or to examine the situation of the schooner by daylight.

So they mended the fire and got breakfast ready, expecting with each moment that he would return.

As he did not, Cabot finally went on deck to look for him.
The morning was bitterly cold, and the harbour was covered with ice sufficiently strong to bear a man.
"The old 'Bee's' found her winter berth at last," reflected Cabot, as he glanced about him, shivering in the keen air.
To his disappointment he could discover no trace of the man upon whom they were depending to aid their escape from this icy prison.

Cabot even dropped to the beach and made his way to the crest of the inland bluffs, but could see no living thing on all the vast expanse of snow outspread before him.
"I guess he has gone, all right," muttered the lad, "and we are again left to our own resources, only a little worse off than we were before.
Why he came and helped us out at all, though, is a mystery to me." With this he retraced his steps and conveyed the unwelcome news to White.
"It is evident then," said the latter, "that we must stay here, alive or dead, all winter.

And I expect we'll be a great deal more dead than alive long before it is over." "Oh, I don't know," replied Cabot.