On the way to join the ship she stopped to say good-bye to Uncle in New York and to dear old Grandma in Portland, Maine. Here too she promised to return in the Fall and if possible to bring father with her.

Her one wish now was to board the ship and get away, and this she really did on July 20 at Sydney, Cape Breton. That night before going to sleep she wrote in her diary.

“July 20, 1900.—Glory, glory, at last mother and I are on our way to see father. I wonder how long it will take us. I can hardly wait.

“We have such tiny rooms here that one of us must stay in bed while the other dresses. Everything is very clean and comfortable and I have a little kitty with which to play, and I think I will like our maid too.

“She is the wife of the steward. She has never been away from her home in Newfoundland before, except to go on the fishing boats to Labrador. They spend the summer there catching codfish, and live on it through the winter.”

During the first week the weather was clear but quite cold. At least AH-NI-GHI´-TO and her mother thought it was, to what they had had before leaving home.

The old ship, called the “Windward” was very slow, and so they were thankful when a breeze would fill the sails and help the engines push the ship ahead.

From Sydney they sailed through the Gulf of St. Lawrence, along the Newfoundland shore as far as the Straits of Belle Isle. Then through the straits, where the last lighthouse was passed, and along the Labrador coast. On July 29th letters for home were given a passing fisherman, who promised to mail them at the nearest place in Labrador where the mail boat would touch. This was AH-NI-GHI´-TO’S last chance to send news home to her dear ones until she returned herself the next autumn, and in one of her letters she wrote the following:

My dear Uncle,—Nearly every day has been fine.

In the Straits of Belle Isle we passed many large cakes of ice. I am glad we had sunshine, because Captain Bartlett, whom I like very much, says there are rocks there too. If our ship should strike either of these it would wreck her; and we might easily run against them if the fog was thick and he could not see ahead.

My kitty is very wild and will not come to me, though I feed her milk and bread and try my best to make friends with her. The Captain is very jolly, and helps me have fun. He has had a nice swing put up for me on deck, and when our ship does not roll too much I have fine times there.

Percy, the maid, says she never saw children play, that where she comes from they only sit with their hands in their laps and keep quiet. I am glad I don’t live in that place. I am teaching her to play with my paper dolls and to play tea-party, but as she feels seasick most of the time we do not get along very fast.

Mother and I with Percy are at one end of the ship, while the Captain and his men are at the other end. We live in what is called the “after cabin” and the Captain and his officers live in the forward saloon, but the sailors are in the forecastle; so, you see, there is the whole length of the ship between us. I can make as much noise at my play as I choose, without any one being able to hear me. Percy serves our meals in our cabin, and it is just as if mother and I lived alone on the ship.

The Captain comes down sometimes and plays checkers with me, which is very nice of him; and I am going to call him Captain Sam, because father has had two other captains by the name of Bartlett.

To-day it is raining and quite cold, and the poor fishermen look as if they would rather be indoors; but they say it is a good day for fish and they must try to get as many as they can. Mother bought enough fish for dinner and breakfast; and now I must close, for Captain Sam is waiting for our mail.

With much love and a bushel of kisses, from

P. S. We don’t have any real night at all now. It is daylight almost all night long.

As soon as the fisherman dropped into his boat with the mail the “Windward” went on her way, but the foggy weather and north winds kept her back a few days along the Labrador shore. Davis Strait was crossed in a wind storm which kept up for days, and one day while AH-NI-GHI´-TO’S mother was reading to her in the cabin there came a gust of wind wilder than any before. It was followed by a great crash on deck, a shower of broken glass from the cabin skylight and the shouting of the Captain to his men and the running of the sailors obeying his orders. AH-NI-GHI´-TO’S mother was frightened, but hardly had the glass stopped falling when AH-NI-GHI´-TO cried, “Go on with the story, mother.” She had been in so many storms at sea that she was not the least afraid, and took everything that happened on board ship as a matter of course.

Captain Sam said afterwards that the ship had been tossed on the waves like a ball, and in the storm and fog had come so near a great iceberg that when the man on the lookout saw it she had to be brought round the shortest and quickest way, to keep her from being dashed to pieces against its frozen sides.

This caused the bags of coal lashed on deck, to break loose and slide across the deck, smashing everything in their way.

Four hours later the ship was in a smooth sea with the sun shining brightly.

The bunch of bananas that were taken for father were now getting so ripe that they must be eaten, and it was AH-NI-GHI´-TO’S delight to take an armful on deck and divide them among the sailors. Some of them had never eaten them before.