“There’s nasty weather comin’, an’ we’ll move out into the open and lay to for th’ fog to clear,” explained Captain Bluntt a little later, to the two sportsmen whom he found sitting dejectedly in the cabin. “Barometer falling. Blow comin’. Hard blow comin’, I fears. Cruise to th’ s’uthard when fog clears and look for wrecked boat. No use though. No use!”
That night they drew out into deep water, and the next day lay to in the fog. Then the gradually rising wind increased in velocity, the fog was blown away, and a terrific northeast gale broke upon them. For two days and two nights it swept Hudson Bay with its fury, and when it ceased a jam of Arctic ice blocked the western coast of the bay, rendering any search for the wreckage of the boat quite useless.
A conference was held, and upon Captain Bluntt’s advice Remington, against his desires, however, finally agreed to turn homeward.
The passage of Ungava Bay and Hudson Straits, now blocked with a shifting ice pack, was accomplished without accident, and once in the open Atlantic the North Star steamed for St. Johns, putting in at a Newfoundland outport, en route, to permit Remington to cable Mr. Densmore in New York, to meet him at Sydney to receive bad news. This he did that the shock of Paul’s supposed death might not come to the parents too suddenly.
The two young sportsmen proceeded at once by train from St. Johns to Port a Basque, and when their steamer from that place reached Sydney, they found Mr. Densmore awaiting their arrival at the dock.
They boarded the train, and in a stateroom in the parlor car Remington gave the grief-stricken father a detailed account of what had occurred.
“It is a terrible blow to me, and his mother will be prostrated,” said Mr. Densmore. “But, Remington,” placing his hand on the young man’s shoulder, “rest assured I am satisfied everything possible was done to save my boy. You were guilty of no negligence, and I shall always have a kindly remembrance of the interest you took in Paul’s welfare.”