to these chances by constructing another craft which would tempt us out upon the perfidious element. My wife's fears were, however, speedily allayed, for I assured her that the boat I intended to construct should be no flimsy cockle-shell, but as safe and stout a craft as ever floated upon the sea. The Greenlander's cajack I intended to be my model, and I resolved not only to occupy the children, but also to produce a strong and serviceable canoe—a masterpiece of art.
The boys were interested, and the boat-building was soon in operation. We constructed the skeleton of whalebone, using split bamboo canes to strengthen the sides and also to form the deck, which extended the whole length of the boat, leaving merely a square hole in which the occupant of the canoe might sit.
The work engrossed our attention most entirely, and by the time it was complete the rain had passed away and the glorious sun again shone brightly forth.
Our front door was just wide enough to admit of the egress of our boat, and we completed her construction in the open air. We quickly cased the sides and deck with seal-skin, making all the seams thoroughly water-tight with caoutchouc.
The cajack was indeed a curious looking craft, yet so light that she might be lifted easily with one hand, and when at length we launched her she bounded upon the water like an india-rubber ball. Fritz was unanimously voted her rightful owner, but before his mother would hear of his entering the frail-looking skiff she declared that she must contrive a swimming dress, that “should his boat receive a puncture from a sharp rock or the dorsal fin of a fish and collapse, he might yet have a chance of saving his life.”
Though I did not consider the cajack quite the soap bubble the mother imagined it, I yet willingly agreed to assist her in the construction of the dress.
The garment we produced was most curious in appearance, and I must own that I doubted its efficiency. It was like a double
