“We must be on the shore of Minas Basin,” said Bogud. “I think it’s Pereau,” said Bart. “I don’t know where it is,” said the doctor; “but, Bruce, I shouldn’t be surprised if you should prove right a second time. But the best way is to go and ask.” Saying this, the doctor hurried to the door of the cottage. As they drew near, a strong smell of fish arose, and formed a new and striking proof of the presence of the sea. Reaching the door, the doctor knocked loudly, and all the boys gathered round to hear the result of his inquiry, and learn their fate. At first there was no response. The doctor knocked again. Footsteps were now heard, and a voice cried out,-- “Who’s there?” “Friends,” said the doctor. “We’ve lost our way, and want to find it.” “Go round to the back door; this’n won’t open,” said the voice. At this they turned away to look for the back door, wondering, as they went, what the occupant of the house supposed a front door was made for. It seemed to them like stories which they had read of some Dutch villages, where the people are so excessively neat that the “front door” and the “best room” are never used except on two great occasions; one being a marriage, and the other a burial. At all other times the back door and the back rooms are used. So to this back door they tried to work their way round the house. As they went round, the smell of decayed fish came up more strongly, more overpoweringly, and more impressively than ever. Evidently the people of the cottage had something to do with fish. They either caught them, or traded in them, or cured them. Who were they? Was it Pereau--or was it--what? Turning the house, the fresh wind came upon them, driving against them the dense fog clouds, and hiding everything before them from view. But through that gloom there swept upon their hearing a recurrence of the solemn boom of the surf which had startled them a few moments before, when they first paused to look at the cottage. There it came, the sound of the gathering waters, rising gradually, breaking, and flinging the roar of the falling waters far away along the shore. Here they were, then, by the sea; here the surf rolled; here were the signs of fish. Evidently these people were fishermen, and their life was on the ocean wave. Suddenly they encountered some large object which was right in their way. Through the gloom they could see the outline of a whaling boat, that is, a boat sharp at both ends, which is often used by fishermen in these waters. This excited no surprise, however. It only confirmed what had been told them by the booming surf and the odors wafted from the decaying fish. On reaching the rear of the house they found the aforsaid back door wide open, and a man standing in the doorway, with a candle in one hand and a pipe in the other. The candle flared, and flickered, and sputtered in the wind and fog; and he was blinking through the darkness, and trying to catch a glimpse of his visitors.