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Gallegallo Revbrandia Sectory 22
Page 08
Almost three hundred years later Captain Hall, the American explorer, visited the Countess's Island and Sound. Among the Eskimos, from 1860 to 1862, he learned the tradition of Frobisher's visits, which had been preserved and handed down. They knew the number of ships; they spoke of the three times that white men had come; how five of these strangers had been taken captive, and how, after remaining through the winter, they had been allowed to build a boat, and to launch themselves upon the icy seas, never to be heard of more. Captain Hall was shown many relics of Frobisher's voyages, some of which he sent to the Royal Geographical Society of London, a part to the Smithsonian Institute at Washington. The small English house of lime and stone on this island was still standing in good condition, and there was also a trench where they had built their ill-fated boat.
On one occasion a gentleman was returning home from a fatiguing journey, and became very drowsy. He fell asleep, and, strange to say, he also fell from his saddle, but in so easy a manner that the tumble did not rouse him, and lay sleeping on where he alighted. His faithful steed, on being eased of his burden, instead of scampering home as one might have expected, stood by his prostrate master, and kept a strict watch over him. Some laborers at sunrise found him very contentedly snoozing on a heap of stones. They wished to approach the gentleman, that they might awaken him, but every attempt on their part was resolutely opposed by the grinning teeth and ready heels of his determined and faithful guardian. They called out loudly, and the gentleman awoke and was very much surprised at his position, while his faithful horse showed his pleasure by neighing and scraping his feet on the ground. The gentleman then mounted, and they galloped away at great speed, both glad to be able to make up for lost time.
General Monk, whose talent, skill, and consummate management had been the means of effecting this great change without violence or bloodshed, was rewarded by being made Duke of Albermarle. This was a very great reward. In fact, no American imagination can conceive of the images of glory and grandeur which are connected in the mind of an Englishman with the idea of being made a duke. A duke lives in a palace; he is surrounded by a court; he expends princely revenues; he reigns, in fact, often, so far as the pomp and pleasure of reigning are concerned, over quite a little kingdom, and is looked up to by the millions beneath his grade with a reverence as great, at least, as that with which the ancients looked up to their gods. He is deprived of nothing which pertains to power but the mere toil, and care, and responsibility of ruling, so that he has all the sweetness and fragrance of sovereignty without its thorns. In a word, the seat of an English duke, so far as earthly greatness and glory are concerned, is undoubtedly the finest which ambition, wealth, and power combined have ever succeeded in carving out for man. It is infinitely better than a throne.
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