It was not long after the ice came that the missionary from Nain visited them, and met Bobby for the first time.  He was a tall, jolly man, and made much of Bobby, asking many questions about the manner of Bobby’s coming.

“It is very strange,” said he.  “Shall I not take him, Abel, to the Mission, and care for him there?  You do not want a white child.”

But there was such a protest from both Abel and his wife, who insisted that Bobby was their own child, sent them by God, that the missionary never again suggested taking him from them.  When the mail left the coast, however, the following summer, he wrote to England a full description of the occurrence, and the fact of Bobby’s rescue and whereabouts was published far and wide in British papers, but no inquiries ever came of it, and no one came to claim Bobby.

But we must not linger over this period of Bobby’s life.  When he was five years of age Skipper Ed began his lessons, coming over to Abel Zachariah’s cabin as often as possible, for the purpose, and now and again he would take Bobby to his own cabin to stop a day or two with him and Jimmy.

He supplied Bobby with the books he needed, and Bobby studied hard and learned quickly, and was fascinated with the work, for Skipper Ed had the rare faculty of making study appear a pleasant game, and it was a game which Bobby loved to play.

There was little else, indeed, to occupy his attention during long winter evenings—­no streets to play in, no parties, no theaters—­and he made more rapid progress than he probably would have made had he attended school in civilization, for Skipper Ed was a good tutor and Jimmy, who was already quite a scholar, was also of great help to Bobby in preparing lessons.

And as Bobby grew and developed, Abel, on his part, taught him to be keenly alert, patient, self-reliant and resourceful—­qualities that every successful hunter and wilderness dweller must possess.

He learned first with the miniature whip that Abel made him, and later with Abel’s own long dog whip, to wield the long lash with precision.  He and Jimmy would practice for hours at a time clipping a small bit of ice no larger than an egg from a hummock thirty feet away.

He played with the young puppies and trained them to haul him on his small sledge, and he would shout to them proudly, as large as life—­and just as Abel did when he drove the big team—­“Hu-it!" when he wanted them to start; “Ah!" when he wanted them to stop; “Ouk!  Ouk!  Ouk!” when he wanted them to turn to the right; “Ra!  Ra!  Ra!" for a turn to the left; “Ok-su-it!" when he wished them to hurry; and with his whip he enforced his commands.

He learned to shoot his bow and arrow, and to wield the harpoon and spear.  Abel once fashioned for him, from a block of wood, a very good imitation of a small seal, and Bobby and Jimmy had unending sport casting their harpoons at it, and presently they became so expert that seldom did they fail to make a “killing” strike.