When a whaling ship is beset in the ice of Davis Straits, there is little work for her second engineer, once the engines have been nicely tallowed down. Now, I am no man that can sit in his berth and laze. If I've no work to do, I get a-thinking about my home at Ballindrochater and the ministry, which my father intended I should have adorned, and what a fool I've made of myself, and this is depressing. I was not over-popular already on the Gleaner on account of some prophecies I had made in anger, which had unfortunately come true. The crew, and the captain, too, had come to fear my prophetic powers.
At last I bethought me of sporting on the ice. There was head-money offered for all bears, foxes, seals, musk-oxen, and such like that were shot and gathered. So I went to the skipper, and he gave me a Henry rifle, well rusted, and eight cartridges."

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MPAA: PG
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