‘Yes, a brave boy. I found him in one of the holes in the rock.’
‘Is he alive?’ asked Margaret, drawing back the oil-cloth that she might get a sight of the babe.
‘Alive, yes; the urchin seemed to be quite enjoying his new home.’
‘Don’t jest, dear Michael,’ cried Margaret; ‘the mother of this poor little creature has most likely found a watery grave.’
‘True, but you will be a mother to him, won’t you?’
‘Aye, that I will,’ responded the kind-hearted woman, catching the child in her arms, and folding him to her bosom. ‘Aye, that I will, Miche, I’ll carry him myself, if you will take the baggage. But is this poor babe the only creature who has escaped?’
‘I have reason to believe so,’ returned the fisherman; ‘but I could not remain longer on the shore, the water flowed in so fast. We must haste now, dear Madgy, or we shall be too late.’
Margaret wanted not a second bidding, but after having hastily wrapped the babe in a bear’s skin, she and her husband quitted the hut.
CHAPTER II.
A JOURNEY AND A WELCOME HOME.
Michael and Margaret had, as our young readers may suppose, a very unpleasant and perilous journey over boggy land, in the midst of a violent storm too. The charge of an infant of three or four months old, of course added to their cares and difficulties; but both the fisherman and his wife had stout hearts which would not soon sink under dangers; and the Russians are naturally a hardy people. Their winter abode was the cottage in which Margaret had spent her childhood and early youth, which was still occupied by her parents, they were therefore sure of a hearty and affectionate welcome when their journey was over. The old people had been very anxious about them, fearing from their long stay, that some evil had overtaken them, so the present meeting was every way delightful.