At midday a halt was made to “boil the kettle,” and by the side of the big fire that was built in the shelter of the forest Ambrose was restored to comparative comfort.  On the trail again it was colder than ever in the afternoon, and they thought the lad, though he never once uttered a complaint, would freeze before they could reach the cabin that was to shelter them for the night.  At last the cabin was reached.  A fire was hurriedly built in the stove, and with much rubbing of hands and legs and feet, and a roaring fire, he was made so comfortable that he could eat, and a fine supper they had for him.

At the place where they stopped the previous night Doctor Grenfell had mentioned that the oven that sat on the stove in this cabin, was worn out.  One of the men immediately went out, procured some corrugated iron, pounded it flat with the back of an ax and then proceeded to make an oven for Grenfell to take with him on his komatik.  Upon opening the oven now it was found that the good friend who had made the oven had packed it full of rabbits and ptarmigans, the white partridge or grouse of the north.  In a little while a delicious stew was sending forth its appetizing odors.  A pan of nicely browned hot biscuits, freshly baked in the new oven and a kettle of steaming tea completed a feast that would have tempted anyone’s appetite, and Ambrose, for the first time in many a day relieved of much of his pain, through Doctor Grenfell’s ministrations, enjoyed it immensely, and for the first time in many a night, followed his meal with refreshing sleep.

The next morning the cold was more intense than ever.  Ambrose was wrapped in every blanket they had and, as additional protection, Doctor Grenfell stowed him away in his own sleeping bag, and packed him on the sledge.  Off they went on the trail again.  Late that afternoon they crossed a big bay, and St. Anthony was but eighteen mile away.

When Ambrose was made comfortable in a settler’s cottage, Doctor Grenfell directed that he was to be brought on to the hospital the following morning, and he himself much needed at the hospital pushed forward at once, arriving at St. Anthony long after night.

But before morning the worst storm of the winter broke upon them.  The buildings at St. Anthony rocked in the gale until the maids on the top floor of the hospital said they were seasick.  And when the storm was over the snow was so deep that men with snowshoes walked from the gigantic snow banks to some of the roofs which were on a level with the drifts.  Tunnels had to be cut through the snow to doors.

The storm delayed Ambrose and his friends, but after the weather cleared their komatik appeared.  The lad was put on the operating table, the thigh re-broken and properly set by Doctor Grenfell, and the leg brought down to its proper length.  Presently the time came when Grenfell was able to tell the father that, after all their fears, Ambrose was not to be a cripple and that he would be as strong and nimble as ever he was.  This was actually the case.  Doctor Grenfell is a remarkably skillful surgeon and he had wrought a miracle.  The thankful and relieved father shed tears of joy.