So it was that the mate made his suggestions so freely. If Captain Hanks were to quit the trade he knew that it would be many a day before he secured another such berth, and his solicitude was therefore not alone in the captain's interests but was largely a matter of looking out for himself.
The voyage just completed had not, in fact, been a very profitable one, for the previous winter had been a poor year for the trappers that they dealt with, just as it had been farther north in Eskimo Bay, and Skipper Sam had good reason for feeling discouraged.
It was early in August now, and the Maid of the North was entering Halifax Harbour with the expectation of tying up at her berth the next morning. If she were to go north it would be necessary for her to be fitted out for the voyage immediately in order to reach her winter quarters before the ice began to form in the bays.
The two men ate their supper and both went on deck to smoke their pipes. Skipper Sam had no more to say about the proposed undertaking until late in the evening, when he called the mate to his cabin, where he had retired after his smoke, and there the mate found him poring over a chart.
"D'ye know anything about this coast?" the skipper asked, without looking up.
The mate glanced over his shoulder.
"Not much, sir. I was down on a fishin' cruise once when I was a lad."
"Well, how far down ought we t' go, d' ye think, before we lays up?"
"I think, sir, we should go north o' Indian Harbour. Th' farther north we gets, th' more fur we'll pick up."
"Well," said the skipper, standing up, "I'm goin' t' sail just as quick as I can fit out. Ship th' crew on th' best terms ye can. We got t' move smart, fer I wants time t' run well down before th' ice catches us."