Etienne Turgot was one of the most respectable fishermen of Greenland, and from his expertness in spearing and harpooning the narval and the whale, was respected by all his craft. He had a wife, on whom he doted; and a son, a boy of seven years of age, whose daring disposition and fear-nought character were often the cause of many a sad hour to the mother; but it warmed the father’s heart to see in his offspring the same wild spirit that had characterized his own young days,――to hear of a miraculous escape, which reminded him of some of the hazardous scenes of his own daring boyhood. For several months the son (Pierre,) had his mind bent on going out on a fishing excursion with his father; and when the parent returned home at night, the first thing that saluted his ears was, “Father, I must go to-morrow.” The indulgent parent, after much persuasion, at last consented; and the following morning was fixed for the desired expedition. Pierre slept but little; for his night was spent in dreams. At one time he was chased by a whale, or some other monster of the deep; at another he was making his way home with one on his back. At last morning came, and up he got to wake his father; and shortly afterwards they were gliding along in their light boat――the parent on the look-out for narvals, the son gazing into the crystal element, shouting, from time to time,―― “Oh! what a fish; I wish I could reach it!” Thus they moved onwards, the father casting an occasional affectionate glance on the son, while the latter was too busy to see anything but the small fishes that were sporting beneath him. After gazing for some time on the broad expanse of water, Etienne imagined that he saw something resembling a fish moving on the surface. On drawing nearer he perceived a horn projecting three feet out of the water, and nothing daunted, exclaimed,―― “Ah, ah; a narval!” Scarcely had he uttered these words, when he heard a plunge behind him; and on turning round, he discovered that his son had fallen into the water. The fond parent was about to plunge after him, when his eye caught sight of the tooth of the narval, which was rapidly gliding towards the place where Pierre was. Etienne stood for a moment horror-struck, gazing wildly at his son as he came up gurgling to the surface, then on the huge creature that was threatening to destroy the object of his affection. That presence of mind which had characterized his former actions in time of danger, did not forsake him at this critical moment. He seized his spear, fixed his keen eye upon the frightful animal, raised himself in the boat, and, aiming a thrust at its head, plunged into the water. For a moment nothing was to be seen; neither the father, son, nor fish. All was as if nothing had taken place, save that the water round the boat was tinctured with blood. Was it that of one, or all of them? No, not of all; for, a few moments afterwards, Etienne reached the surface, bearing in his arms his cherished boy.