The stars of European science, who had been shining in a wonderful constellation over Quebec, were just about to leave Canada in that well-known comfortable liner, the _Nipigon_, when a most annoying thing happened. The cattle-ship _Abbitibbe_, never famous at any time for minding her helm, got her steam steering gear jammed as she was passing the _Nipigon_, and took a wide sheer to port when she should have altered her course to starboard. The peaceful preparations of the passenger boat were broken up, and her crew received the wild charge of the _Abbitibbe_ with curses, which, though effectual in heating the atmosphere, were no use as a fender. The _Nipigon_ was cut down to the water's edge, and the scientific lights of Europe were much put out. They hurried ashore in the most irregular and unscientific manner, and, having sent others for their baggage, began to make preparations for going to New York, as no other good passenger boat was leaving the St. Lawrence for a week. But Nature, possibly out of revenge for the unseemly curiosity evinced by all men of science, was beforehand with them. Misfortunes, as was once observed by an intelligent, if pessimistic, anthropoid ape, never come singly. It was the twelfth of November, and a sudden blizzard, bringing all the snow it could carry, broke up communication with the south. If the men of science were to keep their appointments with their universities, it was necessary to sail from Canada at once. They shipped themselves under protest upon the _Nemagosenda_, of 2,900 tons register, which was little better than a tramp, and was commanded by Captain Joseph Prowse. "Immortal Jehoshaphat!" said Captain Prowse; "here's a go! What, we with passengers? Oh, get out!" "You've got to take 'em," said the agent philosophically; "maybe they'll teach you something, and it'll be a good advertisement." "Gah'n!" said Prowse; "carryin' scientific jossers won't bring better freight next season. I wish you'd get me chock up with cattle. I can't stand scientists; my sister married one that was an 'erbalist in the Old Kent Road--and since he went to chokey I've lost conceit with science. However, if it must be--why, send 'em along!"