HC
KX.
LABRADOR
A SKETCH OF
ITS PEOPLES, ITS INDUSTRIES AND ITS
NATURAL HISTORY,
BY
WINFRID ALDEN STEARNS.
BOSTON :
LEE AND SHEPARD, 47 FKANKLIN STREET.
NEW YORK: CHARLES T. DJLLINGHAM.
1884.
\
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1883,
BY W. A. STEARNS,
in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.
Printed at Office of SALEM PRESS,
Salem, Mass.
PREFACE.
IN presenting to the public the following journal sketches of the
country of which they treat, the thought that I am writing of a
region so new and so little known, though so near to us, together
with the pleasure which I have experienced both in my travels and
in the preparation of this account of them, will furnish a sufficient
excuse for the undertaking. Although so little has been known or
written about Labrador, yet it is a region not a thousand miles
away from us, and one which bears a most important relation to
the fishing interests of this continent.
The knowledge of this region, which is within reach of the pub-
lic, is to be found only in the pages of an old-fashioned document,
of two volumes, now out of print, and almost unknown save to
large libraries, entitled "Cartwright's Journal ;" in Hind's "Labrador
Peninsula," 2 vols., and in occasional articles in some magazine or
newspaper. If I have added some new and interesting matter to
our present knowledge of this subject, my labors will not have
been in vain.
My first trip to Labrador was during the summer of 1875, when
I collected largely in all the branches of Natural History, and es-
pecially in Botany, finding, with the assistance of the Rev. Mr.
Butler, the then missionary to this region, many new and rare
plants. This number has since been enlarged and a catalogue of
them, as of collections in several other branches of Natural History,
published in the sixth volume of the Report of the National
Museum, at Washington. In September, 1880, I again visited the
(Ml)
iv PREFACE.
coast and remained studying the region and collecting until Sep-
tember, 1 88 1. During this time I had abundant opportunity for
investigation. In the summer of 1882 I made my third trip,
starting from Boston with a company of about a dozen fellow-
voyagers, and proceeded nearly to Harrison Inlet.
I would tender most cordial thanks to several of the officers in
charge of various posts of the Hudson's Bay Company where I
visited, who gave me much help in my investigations : as also the
courteous Magistrate at Bonne Esperance, Mr. Wm. H. Whiteley,
with whom I spent a great part of my time while on the coast.
Hoping that there may be found enough of value and interest
to counterbalance the many too obvious defects, I submit these
pages to those who may be interested in such researches.
Respectfully,
WINFRID A. STEARNS.
Amherst,July 14, 1884.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
Preface iii
Introduction .... i_^
CHAPTER I.
PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY OF REGION.
Survey of Labrador — Elementary physics — Physical geography 9-26
CHAPTER II.
STARTING ON THE JOURNEY.
Trip to Labrador — Arrival at Montreal — Arrival at Quebec and
description of the city 27-38
CHAPTER III.
QUEBEC TO GREEN ISLAND.
Our stay in Quebec — Starting for Berthier — Berthier — Off for Lab-
rador — Bunking in — Island of Orleans — Islands and chan-
nels — Sunday — Other islands — The Saguenay — Fog again 39~5 1
CHAPTER IV.
GREEN ISLAND TO BONNE ESPERANCE.
The weather — Beluga borealis and other huge animals — A
sundog — Birds — The rusty blackbird — Bradore hills — Vari-
eties of rocks — Coast line about St. Augustine — Reaching
Bonne Esperahce — Old Fort island — Eider ducks — Other
birds — Garden vegetables — Hay — Raised beaches — Labra-
dor dogs — Searching for driftwood 52-66
CHAPTER V.
BONNE ESPERANCE.
Bonne Esperance — Esquimaux river and island — Caribou island —
Entering Bonne Esperance Harbor — Vessels in the harbor —
Their nationality — Activity of place — Religious character of
people — Chapel and Mission house — Residence of Mr.
Whiteley, magistrate — Nescopies — Store and shop provisions
— Money — Trade — A trading story .... 67-75
(v)
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER VI.
NATURAL HISTORY : TOPOGRAPHY OF COUNTRY.
Raspberries — Weather — Hudsonian chickadee and other birds —
Black fly — Topography of cauntry — Old Fort bay, physical
features and surroundings — Superstitions concerning the raven 76-96
CHAPTER VII.
OLD FORT : INVESTIGATIONS.
Indian tents — New fields for research — Visit to the Indians —
Seals' flesh — Dogskin boots — Cattle food in hard winters —
Coptis trifolia — Spruce partridge — Inland — Hypothesis of
Aurora — Little auk — Signs of a wreck — Ascent of western
arm of the bay — Wreck of the Edward Cardwell — Picking up
lumber — First snowstorm of the winter - - - -97-118
CHAPTER VIII.
A LABRADOR HOME.
A Labrador home — Houses — Where erected — Stage — Shop —
Stable — The house — Papering — Family — Occupation of its
members — Out-of-door life 119-131
CHAPTER IX.
A GALE : KOMATIK, RACKETS, ETC.
Dinner off fresh meat — Credit and shiftlessness — A Labrador snow-
storm — Wind — Preparing for storm — Storming hard — Fire-
wood — Storm increases — Sleepless night — Another day of it
— A grand sight — Violence of wind and wave — Destruction
of stage — Calmer weather — Beautiful ice scene — End of
storm — Thanksgiving day — Komatiks and rackets - - 132-151
CHAPTER X.
WINTER SCENES AND OCCUPATION OF PEOPLE.
Trip up the river to the mission — Ice pictures — Bad walking —
To the old Fort — New scenes and bad walking — Pleasant
Sunday — The return — Journal — A komatik ride — Christmas
gathering — Wood cutting — Work for the evenings — Making
sealskin boots, mittens, and other needful and fancy work - 152-171
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER XI.
WINTER SCENES AND AMUSEMENTS.
New Year's day — How to walk on rackets — " Fish, dogs, and
seal," the general topics of conversation — Obtaining skeletons
— Larch poultices — " Small talk" — Low temperature — Deer
stories — Trapping — Indians — Up the river — At the mission
— Harnessing the puppies — A racket walk - - - 172-190
CHAPTER XII.
OLD FORT TO L*ANSE AMOUR.
80° in winter — Trip eastward — Starting — Esquimaux river and
island — Salmon bay — Bradore bay — Caribou island — Five
leagues — Middle bay — Belles Amour — Over Bradore hills —
L'Anse Dunes — Blanc Sablon — L'Anse Coteau — L'Anse
Clair — Forteau — Amour - 191-213
CHAPTER XIII.
A TRAMPING EXPEDITION.
Canadian porcupine — Picking fall berries in spring — Carrying
wood to summer quarters — Anticipating Fourth of July — Sum-
mer quarters in winter — Capsized — Fox hunt on rackets — A
mile of soft snow without rackets 214-220
CHAPTER XIV.
MOVING OUT.
Preparing the summer house to live in — Moving out — A spring
rescue — Seals on ice — Larks — A home scene — Spring duck
shooting — Repairing the boats — Visit to the Indians — Indian
canoes — Netting nets — Labrador mail — Natural scenery of
Labrador — Repairing canoes — Visit to Esquimaux graves —
Ornithological notes 221-238
CHAPTER XV.
FROM BLANC SABLON TO MINGAN.
Blanc Sablon again — Northern limits of the bittern — Return along
the coast of Natashquan — Spring scene in Red bay — Other
places — St. Mary islands — Cormorants — At Natashquan —
Rambles about the place — Appearance of the birds — The
dark day — Arrival at Mingan 239-253
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER XVI.
MINGAN TO OLD FORT ISLAND AGAIN.
Mingan and surroundings — Hudson's Bay Companies' buildings —
Mingan river — Indians of this region, their habits, religion, etc.
— Montagnais and Nascopies — The Indian trade at the various
places along the north shore — Romaine or Olomanosheebo —
Natashquan again — French steamer and salmon freezing —
Jewelry peddler — Agwanus, Nabasippi — Terns and gulls — Cod
fish " schooling " — Esquimaux Point — Indian names, etc. : St.
Genevieve island, Watcheeshoo, Manicouagan, Saddle Hill,
Mt. St. John, Washatnagunashka bay, Mushkoniatawee, Pash-
asheeboo, Peashtebai — Shooting at the Fox islands — Mutton
bay, Great Mecattina islands — Old Fort island again at last 254-272
CHAPTER XVII.
HOMEWARD BOUND.
Affairs at Old Fort Island — The fishing season — Thunder storm
— Arrival of vessel which is to take us home — Our trip in her
to L'Anse Loup — Scenes at intervening places — Off for home
— Double reefed fore and main sails — Island of Anticosti
— A hurricane — Quebec and home - - 273-279
CHAPTER XVIII.
THIRD TRIP TO LABRADOR.
Third voyage : summer of '82 — Puffin-shooting — Dredging — Bad
weather — Main boom breaks — Chateau and Temple bays —
Places of interest — Mines and minerals — Aurora and phospho-
rescence — Icebergs — Fox harbor — Battle island — Indians
and Esquimaux — Indian vocabulary — Square island — Dead
island — A water garden — Triangle harbor — Homeward
bound — Notes on Dutch and Esquimaux settlements. - 280-295
INTRODUCTION.
LABRADOR : ITS DISCOVERY AND ITS LOCATION.
THE coast of Labrador is well known to you all, as it figures on
your maps and on your charts. There are probably very few who
do not recollect this little oblong plateau as it appears thus jutting
eastward into the Straits of Belle Isle from an almost desolate, and
on your maps plainly colored, portion of inhabitable northern North
America. If there should be those to whom this location is as
yet unfamiliar, let them refer to their geography, and then, follow-
ing the river St. Lawrence as it flows to the Gulf, and the Gulf as
it flows through the Straits of Belle Isle, they will readily find, just
before entering the narrowest part of the Straits, the coast of New-
foundland on the right and that of Labrador on the left of this por-
tion of the Gulf.
A section, and that the most easterly, of the Canadian Province
of Quebec, is usually included with Labrador proper in the term,
generally applied, of " Labrador." As a part of this Province it has
its mails, though irregular at best ; while its seat of government is
in Quebec.
Of Labrador a certain writer has said, perhaps as truly as the
times (by which I mean the explorations of science and survey)
will permit, that "it is an immense peninsula extending over an
area of four hundred and fifty thousand superficial miles, and
bounded by the Atlantic, the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and Hudson's
Bay."
Of this part of the coast there is a considerable division of
opinion, as in fact of other neighboring parts, as to the people who
first discovered it, as well as of the origin of the name.
1 (l)
INTRODUCTION.
It is not the place here to enter into a discussion of this ques-
tion nor yet to call up all the points in the arguments in favor of
or against any particular hypothesis. The fact that as yet we know
little enough of these interesting points of inquiry, which, while they
answer for individual effort and research, will hardly be necessary
in such a place as this, will therefore limit us to what we do know.
We do know of the contention among both French and English
as to the discovery of Labrador by Sebastian Cabot in 1496, and
its exploration soon after by the Portuguese Corterell, who is said
to have named it. We do know that Mr. Samuel Robertson, who
has given this matter his most careful attention and who has per-
haps searched more thoroughly than any other man in the Country
for the real facts bearing upon this subject, in his excellent article
read before the Literary and Historical Society of Quebec, dated
January 16, 1841, gives us the summing up of what are the results
of his labors. From them we learn that "the universal tradition
of the coast," and which his inquiries seem to verify and establish,
is "that one Labrador, a Basque whaler, from the kingdom of
Navarre in Spain, did penetrate through the Straits of Belle Isle, as
far as Labrador Bay, sometime about the middle of the fifteenth
century ; and, eventually, the whole coast took the name from that
bay and harbor."
There is very little doubt, as far as circumstantial evidence goes,
that the coast here, as in the neighboring places, was visited by the
Norsemen in the tenth century ; but they left no signs of coloniza-
tion by which we can prove it.
There were some remains of buildings, also instruments discov-
ered, that were supposed to be of later and Esquimaux origin, but
these, Mr. Robertson thinks, can be proven of Basque origin. In
all probability, therefore, Labrador was discovered by Basque fisher-
men and whalers before the discovery of Cabot, and before Chris-
topher Columbus discovered America. We know that the French
carried on fisheries along the coast of Newfoundland earlier even
than the year 1500. In 1532 Jacques Carder, with Bretons for
pilots, visited this coast, and as early as 1506 a chart of the Gulf
INTRODUCTION.
had been published. Besides all this the Welsh and Irish, as also
the Icelanders, put in the claims of being early visitors. Thus the
difficulties of origin increase rather than diminish.
The first established colony in Labrador was at "Brest," now
Bradore. It was founded about 1508, was a trading post, con-
tained the residence of the Governor and other officers, and,
it is said, contained "200 houses and 1000 inhabitants in winter,
which latter were trebled in the summer." Thus you will see
that very early this was an important trading post, though it
gradually lost its importance, and soon dwindled to a few houses
whose inhabitants were settlers, who took what they could find
as they found it, and were without law and government, as one
might truly say.
You will understand that this settlement at Bradore was not a
permanent one, that is, dependent upon other settlements on the
coast ; but was one, so to speak, complete in itself for the purpose
of carrying on fisheries at that place, while the greater portion of
the coast had neither been much settled nor much explored ; conse-
quently, at the time called the Conquest, when the Esquimaux were
nearly exterminated from these districts, and when the owning foreign
monarch began to cut up this almost thriving colony into special
grants to his favorites, its prosperity began to decline . Though at first
the fish, whale, and fowl were everywhere abundant, a slow but per-
ceptible decrease of these productions tended also to dishearten
the colony ; and a natural unfavorableness of the coast, being then,
as it now is, a mass of granite rock, as also the severity of the cli-
mate, combined with a dread of extermination, to scatter them
completely. You will now also understand why, if Labrador was
once in a way to become a popular fishing station, it broke up
rather than increased in its settlements and thus possible fu-
ture growth. Having thus broken up, you will see why it has re-
mained waiting for the energy and determination of Americans to
combine with the sturdy hold on of the English, who have now
gained possession of the coast and added it to their already im-
portant Canadian and Newfoundland Colonies, to open it again to
INTRODUCTION.
the world as a fishing post, when centuries shall have restocked
its waters.
As Labrador looks upon the charts, one would easily imagine
that it was a vast expanse of lowland, and one almost plain penin-
sula extending into the sea as a continuation and part of the Brit-
ish Provinces, and auxiliary, perhaps, to the territory of the Hud-
son's Bay Company. In point of fact this latter case is partly true
and partly false. It is indeed a part of the British possessions, and
it is also a part of the Hudson's Bay Company's, territory ; at least
there are several trading posts of that Company placed occasion-
ally along its shores, and the Company own considerable land lo-
cated about and around each such post ; yet it forms but a small
part of that Company's productive ground, which is much farther
north, and extends a considerable way into the interior of the
country, thus approaching the great bay which bears the name of
that hardy, early pioneer and explorer who discovered it, as also
the river of that same name which here takes its rise. At one time
Labrador was a small part of these the best fur regions of the
world. Then many trading posts were established, of which the
most important, perhaps, at least of that portion of the coast of
which I shall speak more at length presently, was at St. Augustine,
near the St. Augustine river, and only a few miles — so to speak —
from the principal settlements in this section- about Esquimaux
river, and Bonne Esperance the seat of local government. It was
only at a late day that this post was abandoned as a trading station,
and, unless recently resupplied it is no more a permanent authorized
station of the Company. Though the post here has been formed but
a few years, new ones are being so constantly made — or rather aban-
doned ones resupplied — and old ones broken up, that it is impos-
sible to keep an exact and satisfactory account of them all.
The portions of Labrador which I visited are contained within
the easternmost extremity of the Province of Quebec, and the
westernmost part of Labrador proper, comprising an included
distance of about five hundred miles, in which extent of coastline
I have visited nearly every harbor of importance. In describing
INTRODUCTION.
two or three of these locations a sort of idea may be obtained of what
is to be seen elsewhere along the coast, as the simple inhabitants
differ little in customs and manners.
The line which divides these two portions of territory is estab-
lished in a direct northern route from the settlement of Blanc Sa-
blon, which is only about twenty miles from Bonne Esperance, the
residence of Mr. William H. Whiteley, the magistrate for this part
of the coast.
Of course the . trading post of St. Augustine was not the only
one on the coast. It was simply the only one which the peo-
ple within a radius of fifty miles recognized as available for uses of
immediate trade, while yet a licensed station. From St. Augustine
almost to the head of the St. Lawrence River, many places such
as Tadousac, Port Neuf, Goodbout, Seven Islands, and Mingan ;
Natashquan, Musquarro, Romaine, and perhaps others, were regular
posts of the Hudson's Bay Company, and, together, formed a chain
of the most important localities along the coast, all of which be-
longed to the Eastern division of what is known as the Montreal
Department, which, with the Northern, the Southern, and the Col-
umbian Departments, form the four portions into which that great
Company is divided. As the southwesternmost of these posts is
not far from Quebec, a sort of central station for most of the trad-
ing of this region, one can see quite easily that the settlers along the
coast are not so far from communication with civilization, especially
in summer, as one would at first imagine ; though in the long winter
months when the bays and harbors are frozen over so that no ves-
sels can approach, and no boats can sail from post to post, to the
stranger at such a time on these ice-bound shores the prospect seems
dreary enough. In the winter, travelling is mostly on foot, shod
with the racket as it is called, a sort of padded or rather wicker
snowpad ; or on komatiks or sledges drawn by dogs which can go
x)ver the high hills, lining the very coast, with safety and often with
great speed. Yet Labrador in as low a latitude as it is, compared
to what is beyond, and as near civilization as it is compared to what
is beyond, though pleasant for a short time in summer, is sufrl-
INTRODUCTION.
ciently dreary in winter. No wonder that at such a time a stranger
feels that he has reached the limits of civilized warmth, so to speak,
arising from his own country, home ; while he is surrounded by the
icy arms of the far north stretching continually downwards and out-
wards !
We have seen now that Labrador was discovered — no matter
by whom — at a time very nearly contemporary with the discovery
of Columbus, if we exclude the probable claims of the Norse-
men ; that it was once an important fishing station whose develop-
ment was in every way hindered rather than helped ; that its relation
to the Hudson's Bay Company's trading territory was a very near
though not absolutely necessary one, as far as that company was
concerned — since the agents of that Company always ran more or
less opposition to the Quebec and Halifax traders; that its re-
lation to the Province of Quebec was that of a perfectly natural
northeastern dependency or addition ; and that Blanc Sablon, sit-
uated as it is at the entrance of the Straits of Belle Isle, was so evi-
dent and natural a division between this and the Newfoundland
dependency of Labrador proper, that it ought not to be difficult
to understand where the one ended and the other began.
In Anspach's "History of the Island of Newfoundland," 1827,
p. 323, the reason for annexing Labrador to Newfoundland is given
as follows : —
" The coast of Labrador, although discovered by Cabot, was
very little known until the latter part of the last century, when the
progressive increase of the Newfoundland fisheries induced the
British Government to extend them to this coast, by annexing it to
the government of that island, in the year 1763. The native in-
habitants of those parts were included in the regulations which
were, at the same time, forwarded to the Governor of the colonies,
to prevent the different tribes of Indians from being in anywise
molested or disturbed in the possession of such territories as, not
having been ceded to or purchased by the Crown of England,
were reserved to them as their hunting grounds. All settlements,
formed either wilfully or inadvertently upon such lands, were to
INTRODUCTION.
be immediately given up ; nor were any such lands for the future
to be purchased from the said Indians, but in the name of His
Brittannic Majesty, at some public meeting or assembly, of said
Indians, to be held for that purpose by the Governor or Comman-
der-in-chief of such colony within or near which they should
lie. The trade with the said Indians was declared free and open
to all British subjects who should take out proper licenses for
that purpose.
This union of the coast of Labrador with Newfoundland, by
placing the former under a jurisdiction which could, from local
circumstances, more effectually than any other, provide for the
maintenance of order and the due administration of justice in those
parts, tended materially to increase its importance as a fishery
without any injury to the fur trade, both being perfectly compat-
ible. When this arrangement was altered in 1774, and the juris-
diction of the Governor of Newfoundland was reduced to its former
limits, a superintendent of trade, appointed by the Governor-Gen-
eral of the Four British Provinces, and responsible to him, used to
reside at Labrador. This measure, which appeared to have had
for its principal object to encourage the fur trade, must have proved
very prejudicial to the fishery, and the source of much disorder
and irregularity. The re-annexation of the coast of Labrador
and adjacent islands to the government of Newfoundland, in the
year 1809, was consequently a measure extremely favorable to the
interests of the trade and fisheries."
With a proper understanding, then, of the region visited, I will
proceed with the narrative of the expedition, trusting that a greater
part of it may be of general interest to the reader.
SURVEY OF LABRADOR.
CHAPTER I.
Survey of Labrador — Elementary Physics — Physical Geography.
THE most complete, in fact the only real, survey of Labrador ever
made, was in 1832 and 1834, by Capt. H. W. Bayfield, R. N., F.
A. S. He was assisted by other parties, though perhaps none of
them were so thorough as was that of Capt. Bayfield — at least he
is quoted as authority to this day — and I found that our vessel, by
following the directions of his admirable chart, entered and left
many an opening of but sufficient size to admit the passage of our
vessel, with perfect safety ; showing that the soundings were for the
most part taken correctly, and that comparative quiet had remained
in regard to subsidence of waters or elevation of land during the lapse
of a period of nearly forty years. Though the change of level of the
water itself, or the variation in depth, would have been but slight in
so short a time, yet the fact that so many of the soundings remained
unchanged gave us additional proof against the rising or sinking of
the land at that place! Comparing Capt. Bayfield's chart, therefore,
with our own soundings, we obtained very favorable and often im-
portant results. 'Previous to a short account of some of the
physical phenomena of this region, let us rehearse a few of the
elementary principles of physical geography necessary for their
clear understanding.
For the purposes of science and convenience, the earth is trav-
ersed by imaginary lines running in all directions about and around
it. The equator is a great circle passing around the earth from
10 ELEMENTARY PHYSICS.
east to west and is equidistant from each of the poles. The merid-
ians are great circles passing around the globe from north to south,
crossing the equator at right angles and meeting at the poles.
The parallels (of latitude) are smaller circles parallel to the
equator. The tropics, marking the highest latitude receiving
the vertical rays of the sun, are situated twenty-three and one-half
degrees both north and south of the equator. The polar circles
are situated (to correspond with the tropics) twenty-three and
one-half degrees, the one north of the south pole, and the other south
of the north pole, and are the limits of light when the sun is verti-
cal at the tropics. The ecliptic marks the apparent path of the
sun from tropic to tropic, and as it continues around the earth re-
quiring three hundred and sixty-five days for the sun to pass to its
end it divides the seasons and days, hence the weeks and months
of the year. Latitude is the distance from the equator to the pole,
measured in either direction : thus there are ninety degrees of north
latitude and a corresponding number of degrees of south latitude ;
the length of a degree of latitude is sixty-nine and one-half miles.
Longitude is the distance east or west from any given meridian
measured on the equator ; the length of a degree of longitude is
also sixty-nine and one-half miles. The relative difference in lon-
gitude between two places marks, also, the difference in time
between those places; for since there are 360° degrees around
the earth traversed in twenty-four hours, one hour of time must
correspond to fifteen degrees, or four minutes to one degree.
When, therefore, a place is so many degrees from any given locality,
it is easy to see what will be the difference in time between these
places ; if east the time is slower, if west faster than the given time
at the given place.
Applying other simple laws we find that the nautical mile is equal
to one and one-sixth English miles : or there are sixty of them to
a degree of latitude ; it is therefore natural to compute distances
in nautical miles by applying the latitude as a measure of distance.
Though these remarks may not now seem in place, their sugges-
tion will become evident at once in measuring distances without the
WAVES. 11
use of a regular scale of miles, the degrees and minutes of latitude
answering every purpose.
Waves have been defined as the " alternate rise and fall of suc-
cessive ridges of water." They are formed by the action of the
wind, or the disturbance of the balance of equilibrium in the sur-
face of the water itself. Waves vary in their rapidity of progress, their
extent, and their height and breadth, according to the area of water
in which they occur, its depth, and the force and direction of the
wind ; being smallest in small bodies and largest in large bodies of
water. The wave movement primarily is that of simple oscillation,
or of repeated risings and fallings without apparent forward or
backward motion of any kind ; thus a chip thrown upon a surface
of water affected by such motion retains its position while rising
and falling as the water of that area rises and falls. Such is the
case if the surface of the water is at apparent rest and there be no
wind. Let the wind arise, or the sea be affected by currents, or
both, and there arises a complexity of wave phenomena at once
interesting as it is difficult to study with any degree of satisfaction.
The other kind of wave motion is called the wave of translation.
It is a long, solitary line of crests, such as would be formed by the
pushing forward of a mass of water over and above the level of the
surrounding water ; it progresses slow or fast according as the depth
about is great or small. The typical wave of translation is the tide
wave. The phenomena of the rise and fall of the tide are too well
known to have escaped the attention of the ordinary individual.
They are produced by the action of the sun and moon, primarily
of the moon alone, upon the surface of the earth. They occur
with regularity in all great bodies of water, and consist of the rising
and falling of that body of water effected as a whole, at periods of
nearly six hours apart, with a few moments of calm at the end of
each period. The period of rising water is called flood tide, and
the highest elevation of flood tide high water ; while the period of
falling water is called ebb tide, and the lowest ebb tide low water.
The period of time between the highest or lowest tide to the next
tide of the same kind, or between one high tide and the next high,
12 TIDES.
or one low and the next low tide is twelve hours and twenty-six
minutes. Hence, as there are two such periods in a day, and only
twenty-four hours in that period, high tide occurs fifty- two minutes
later each successive day. In a month's time this very nearly co-
incides with the period of a lunar month, and in fact we find that
the highest tides occur at such a time as answers to the new and
full moon, and the lowest at the change of first and third quarter.
In a table of tides, therefore, the tide, if marked for new moon at
a certain place, will answer for every new moon at that place through-
out the year and following seasons. Thus in a book of sailing di-
rections, a table of high and low water, or rather of spring and neap
tides, gives the height of water or time of occurrence of the high-
est spring tide (when the moon is exactly at new and full) at any
time of any year ; and also the height of water and occurrence of
any neap tide (when the moon is at exact first or third quarter) at
any time of any year.
The interval between is easily determined by taking the time of
highest or lowest water, and for each day subtracting fifty-two min-
utes from said time. Thus by means of these tables navigators can
always tell high or low water at any day or any time of the day for
any year, at any place mentioned in these tables ; or they can by
marking the spring and neap tides make a table of their own, that,
if their reckoning is correct, will answer equally well for other par-
ties as for themselves. But a few words of explanation as to the reason
of high and low water. I have said that both sun and moon have
their influence in the tide of our larger bodies of water throughout
the globe. The influence of the moon is about three times that of
the sun. The moon attracts both land and water ; one can easily see
that the movable particles of the latter will respond to this mag-
netic force much more noticeably than the almost immovable
particles of the former. The rising of the crest of water, directly
under the centre of influence of the moon at full or new, causes
of course a depression at the sides, being greatest at the centre of
this non-magnetic attraction ; thus the centre of attraction will be
distant from the centre of depression by 90°. To restore the equilib-
CURRENTS. 13
rium the water must fall to a crest on the opposite side of the earth
equal to that of attraction beneath the moon.
The same law will hold good with regard to the sun. Therefore
when the moon and sun are in a line with the earth and each other,
the greatest elevation will occur, as it does at new and full moon ;
and when the moon is farthest from the sun, the attraction of the
sun will be exerted on the line of depression 90° from the line of
greatest elevation, which is always beneath the moon, and attract
that portion to the corresponding depression of the other portion,
so that the moon exerts its least influence upon the water beneath
it and the tides are the lowest ; these occur at the ist and 3rd quar-
ter. The action of tides may be thus briefly described ; we then
come to local variations in height of tide. Thus if the sea beach
of any given surrounding is low, and the tide has free access to all
parts at once, one can easily see that the tides of that place will be
moderate in height and depth and least liable to change, while if
the surroundings are narrow and confined and the sea is obliged to
force itself against high cliffs and into narrow passages the accu-
mulated waters must form an abiding place by raising the level of the
water to that of the nearest open basin, which often causes the
tides to rise to the extraordinary height of forty, fifty, and even
sixty feet above ordinary level. In that narrow arm and clifted
channel of the sea, the Bay of Fundy, this remarkable phenomenon
actually occurs. At the head of the bay the tides are eighteen to
twenty feet high ; here the highest springtides occasionally reach
seventy feet. Marine currents are so influenced by local irritation
that it would be difficult to describe them, but let us notice a few
of the most important ones : —
It is pretty generally conceded that a constant current sets out of
the Gulf between Newfoundland and Cape Breton, in a southeasterly
direction. This is changed more to the southward by a current en-
tering the Gulf from the Straits of Belle Isle. There are other minor
currents due to prevailing winds at the time that affect the waters,
but, unfortunately, they have not been studied with sufficient care
to define them, There is, however, no doubt about the northern
14 CURRENTS.
current, and the huge masses of ice often transported through the
Straits would alone prove its existence, coming as they do with
their large area of surface directed against a strong opposing south-
west wind and even thus reaching the eastern point of Anticosti
before finally disappearing. The current bearing these masses is,
however, very irregular, being weak at times and very swift at others.
In following this most important current I must give the words of
the original survey, as simpler than any I can invent, and more
truthful than any non-discoverer can give. " After entering the
Gulf the current runs along the north or Labrador coast at the dis-
tance of two or three miles from the outer islands, leaving a narrow
space in-shore in which the streams of the tide, when uninfluenced
by winds, are tolerably regular. Passing outside of Mistanoque, the
islands of Great Meccatina and Southmaker's Ledge, it pursues a
direction given to it by the trending of the coast till it is turned
gradually to the southward by the weak current which is often
found coming from the westward between Anticosti and the north
coast, during westerly winds, and which is set off to the southward
from Natashquan point. The united streams continue their south-
ern course at a rate diminishing as they become more widely spread,
and which seldom exceeds half a knot, and, finally, joining the main
downward current out of the St. Lawrence, of which an account
will be given immediately, they all pursue a southeast direction to-
wards the main entrance of the Gulf, between Cape Ray and the
island of St. Paul. It is this current from the northward which is
felt by vessels crossing from off the Bird rocks towards Anticosti :
and which, together with neglecting to allow for the local attractions
of the compass, has been the principal cause of masters of ves-
sels so often finding themselves, unexpectedly, on the south
coast. Many shipwrecks have arisen from this cause near Cape
Rosier, Gaspe, Mai bay, etc." The same authority adds, further
on, as an explanation of the irregularities of current near the north
coast of the Gulf, that " both these currents, viz., that from the
northward, and the main downward current of the St. Lawrence,
are modified by the tides, but in a way directly contrary ; for the
NAVIGATION IN THE ST. LAWRENCE. 15
northern current, in through the Straits of Belle Isle, is accelerated
by the flood and checked by the ebb, while the other is accelera-
ted by the ebb, and checked by the flood tide. These modifying
causes, viz., the tides and winds, give rise to various combinations
and consequent irregularities, in the direction and strength of these
streams which it is extremely difficult at all times to estimate."
The idea, then, that in so narrow an area as that occupied by the
Straits, and the Gulf and River St. Lawrence, the main currents
are constantly diverted by counter currents and inconstantly influ-
enced by wind and tide, shows the truth of my words when I say
that navigation in these waters, especially when impeded by
adverse winds and weather, and enveloped in the thick fog so char-
acteristic of these regions, is anything but easy, even to the experi-
rienced seaman ; many are the tales of horror, at which the heart
sickens, known only too well to be true, that might be told of An-
ticosti, as well as other prominent places along the south shore es-
pecially of the St. Lawrence. Among the causes influencing the
current, especially in the river are the spring freshets, annually
descending the small streams, and pouring their bodies of water
into the St. Lawrence. Here, of course, the accumulation of win-
ter's snow and ice, thawing, descends in the shape of an accumula-
ted mass of fresh water and makes its influence felt far into the
river. Then, too, the tide of the sea reaches far up the river and is
also often mistaken for a current in the river itself. All these agents,
acting in more or less harmony, often produce a current of three and
even four knots an hour, decreasing in velocity as it approaches the
Gulf. There are also great differences in strength and direction of
flood and ebb tides, that frequently produce strong ripples on various
parts of the coast, and differing according to locality, so that unless
a seaman has studied local phenomena carefully, he will be entirely
deceived as to the proper course to pursue to keep his vessel from
running aground upon the numerous sandbars here present. It is
safe to say that the river St. Lawrence, from Quebec to the Gulf,
is one of the most difficult of our large American rivers to navigate
ln all seasons, with continually varying wind and weather. The
16 WINDS.
Gulf is sufficiently difficult for large vessels, while the river is per-
haps still more so for medium sized crafts.
Next to the currents the winds are perhaps the most varying cause
of assistance or hindrance to the navigator in these same portions
of the water. During the greater part of the season " the pre-
vailing winds," says our best authority upon this subject, " are either
directly up or directly down the estuary, following the course of
the chains of high lands on either side of the great valley of the St.
Lawrence." This appears to be in the main true, though the same
author tells us that " westerly winds do not appear to be so much
guided in direction by the high lands, excepting along the south
coast." Winds varying from west-northwest to north-northwest
frequently blow for days in succession, accompanied by weather in
every way fine and beautiful ; then the wind will often turn and
blow from corresponding easterly points as long again, bringing cold,
wet, foggy weather, and more or less rain. The easterly winds
prevail in spring ; the southwest — especially in the Gulf and at the
opening of the Straits — in the summer, and the westerly in the
autumn. The north and south winds occur only occasionally, in
the winter months the northwest and northerly winds prevailing.
Strong gales of wind are of frequent occurrence especially in the
Gulf, in autumn; generally speaking, however, all winds subside
more or less at dusk, to be followed by light off-shore breezes dur-
ing the night. It will be seen, therefore, that the winds are perhaps
more regular than might be expected from the nature of the local-
ity ; a good navigator will soon learn to depend upon the weather,
and even in a measure foretell it with accuracy. Let him be in
whatever part he may of the gulf and river St. Lawrence, a care-
ful study of the sailing directions will lead him, except in unusual
weather, to pretty safe and sure conclusions as to what the morrow
will be, and plans laid upon these conclusions seldom fail of real-
ization.
Besides and next in importance to the currents, and the winds,
the marine barometer is indispensable in determining the weather,
and guiding one's course both by day and night, here as in other
THE BAROMETER. 17
great bodies of water. A few moments only will serve to give a
proper idea of this most important instrument.
A barometer is an instrument used for ascertaining and measur-
ing the weight of the air or more strictly speaking of our atmos-
phere. It was invented in 1643, when Torricelli was making his
examinations as to the reason why water ascended in pumps to the
height of thirty-two feet, and there remained. Taking a glass tube
some four feet in length and closed above, he filled it with mercury
and reversed the open end in a basin of that same substance. The
column sank to a level of 27.5 inches and there remained. Com-
paring the column of water with that of mercury he found them to
be to each other in height in an inverse ratio of the specific gravi-
ties of these two substances; that is, a column of mercury 27.5
inches high would balance a column of water 32 feet; and both
would remain the same, while the pressure of atmosphere from outside
upon the open basins of mercury and water in which the columns
were inverted remained the same. In 1646, at Rouen, one Pascal
repeated this experiment, and further proved that while one column
of mercury remaining at the bottom of a mountain underwent no
change, a similar column taken to the top of the same mountain
was reduced in height by several inches by the diminution of pres-
sure, while it regained that same height, and corresponded with
the one left at the bottom of the mountain when brought down.
By this means he proved the possibility of measuring heights by
the variations of the barometer, for thus the tube of mercury was
named. Boyle, in 1666, discovered that the atmosphere was elas-
tic and compressible, and Mariotte that the density of the atmos-
phere was in proportion to the weight with which it was com-
pressed. The layer of air nearest the earth was heaviest and
sustained the weight of all the rest of the atmosphere above it and
each succeeding stratum was lighter and lighter. Aqueous vapor is
the amount of water evaporated and held in suspension in the at-
mosphere. As evaporation is promoted by dry air, wind, a diminu-
tion of pressure, and heat, the quantity thus held in suspension
depends upon the temperature. Since " heat expands the gaseous
18 CHANGES OF TEMPERATURE.
portion of the atmosphere, the spaces between its particles are en-
larged and their capacities for containing moisture augmented.
Still further we know that "aqueous vapor is highly elastic ; its
elasticity, which increases with an increase of temperature, has
been determined by Dalton, and its force measured by the height
of the mercurial column it is capable of supporting. Aqueous va-
por, raised to 32° Fahrenheit, exerts a pressure on the mercury equal
to 0.2 of an inch, at 80° to 1.03 of an inch, at 180° to 15.0 inches,
and at 212° to 30.0 inches, — a pressure equal to the pressure of the
whole atmosphere at the level of the sea." The amount of vapor
existing at any time in the air is determined by an instrument called
the hygrometer. By means of this instrument we obtain the dew-
point. When the readings of both thermometer and the hygrometer
are alike, the temperature of the dew-point is the same as that of the
air ; the air is then saturated or full of moisture. Quoting further
from our generally accepted theory, we say that " it is chiefly in
the nights and early mornings of the winter months, that the atmos-
phere is saturated with vapor, or that vapor is at its maximum of
elasticity for the temperature. In our climate, vapor never attains
its greatest elasticity at a high temperature ; for if in the summer
months the atmosphere becomes saturated it is caused by a decli-
nation of the heat, which, contracting the spaces between the par-
ticles of the air, squeezes the vapor contained in them closer, and
thus brings its elasticity to a maximum for the temperature to which
the air has fallen. It was upon the changes of temperature in the at-
mosphere that Dr. James Hutton founded his theory of rain. He
considered rain to be formed by the mixture of two strata of the at-
mosphere of different temperatures, and each stratum saturated with
moisture. The mean quantity of the vapor contained by the two
strata before the mixture being more than the mean heat of the two
(after the combination), the excess is precipitated." The princi-
pal causes of variance in the weight of the atmosphere are moisture
and heat ; the variation is greater in polar than in tropical countries,
and in mountainous than in more level regions. We can now un-
derstand the importance of the use of the barometer in determin-
BAROMETRICAL RULES. 19
ing the weather, especially in such a country as is found along the
coast of Labrador. Barometers are of two varieties : the common
mercurial, where the air acts directly upon a basin of mercury in
which the inverted column of that same substance is placed ; and
the aneroid, where the atmosphere acts upon a metallic box, from
which the air has been exhausted, and by its pressure communicated
by a system of levers acts upon the needle to register the amount
of variance ; this is possible, since the column of mercury is
counterbalanced by the weight of the atmosphere. For a barom-
eter to be of the greatest use it must be read in connection with
the direction of the wind, and the temperature of the air, as shown
by the thermometer. The hours in the day when it stands highest
are at 9 A. M., and 9 p. M. ; and it is usually lowest at 3 A. M., and
3 P. M. These hours, therefore, are the best for making observa-
tions and are generally used by scientific men generally the world
over.
The following table of rules will be found to apply in nine chances
out of ten, for the correct use or reading of the barometric needle.
Rising barometer with south wind, — fine weather.
Sudden rise, wind N. or N. N. W., in broken cold weather,
— rain or snow and sometimes nightly thaws.
Rapid rise after S. W. gale and rain, — clear sky and sharp
white frost.
Steady high pressure, wind strong W., — high temperature and
very little rain.
Steady high pressure, wind strong E., — lower temperature and
sharp frost.
Falling barometer, with N. wind, — cold rain and storms in
summer, deep snow and severe frost in winter.
Falling barometer, wind S., — more or less rain.
Falling barometer, wind N. W., — cold rain in summer, severe
frost in winter.
Falling barometer, high S. W. wind, — increasing storm.
Steady and large fall, wind E., — wind S. or heavy snow or rain.
Sudden and large fall, wind W., — violent storm N. W., or N.
20 BAROMETRICAL RULES.
Great fall during frosty weather, — thaw continued with S. or
S. E. wind, and returning frost if S. W. wind.
Lowest depressions, wind S. or S. E., — much rain and severe
gale.
In general : a rapid rise gives a violent wind ; continued fall,
continued wind.
Great depression in summer, — storms, wind and rain, thunder
and hail.
Rise with S. wind, — high temperatures.
Mercury unsteady, — air in electrical state.
No great storm sets in with a steady rise.
N. and S. winds are the origin of our greatest storms.
W. winds blow mostly at night.
E. winds calm at night, blow by day.
There is least wind at sunrise and sunset, and most wind at i or 2
p. M. ; wind with the sun fine ; wind against sun mercury falls, bad
weather generally.
Meteors are not common during low temperatures ; the Aurora
borealis has been seen at all heights of the barometer. It has
been noticed and recorded that, " the finest and most beneficial
state of the atmosphere, more especially as regards the health of
man, is with a uniform pressure at the mean height of the climate
varying from 29.80 to 30.00."
A poetic barometrical rhyming table which lately came to my
notice reads as follows :
"When rise begins after low,
Squalls expect, and clear blow;
Long foretold long last,
Short notice, soon past,
First rise after low
Foretells stronger blow."
Still another comes to mind :
"When the glass falls low,
Prepare for a blow;
When it rises high,
Let your kites fly."
CLOUD COMBINATIONS. 21
A great many other foretellings of weather are known in one
shape or another, but it is not the province or purport of this work
to be a prophetic indicator of the weather, but simply to explain
some of the most common and important physical phenomena of
the region about Labrador : hence a few of the usual combinations
of thermometer and barometer readings, which may generally be
relied upon with a tolerable degree of accuracy in guiding the
mariner along these coasts, where, in summer, travelling is by water
and a fair day is predicted as far ahead as possible.
The combinations of the clouds are also great indicators of
weather and affect the barometer more or less indirectly. The
cirrus is seen at all seasons of the year and at all heights of the
barometer ; it has a slow motion in fair and a rapid one with falling
barometer in foul or stormy weather. The cirro-stratus, not unlike
the cirrus of which it is a peculiar condition, is the forerunner of a
falling barometer with wind or rain. Sometimes it appears after a
rapid rise in the mercury ; then also rain generally follows soon.
The cirro-cumulus comes with a rising barometer and is a warm
weather cloud. The cumulus is seen chiefly in spring and summer ;
it is seen in showery weather with the cirro-stratus, and in hot weather
alone or with other clouds. "If during a fine morning this cloud sud-
denly disappears, and it be followed by the cirro-stratus with the
wind backing to the south, the mercury falls, and rain soon follows.
The cumulus is a day cloud ; its greatest density keeps off the too
scorching rays of the noonday sun ;. it usually evaporates an hour
or two before sunset. When it increases after sunset, and shines
with a ruddy, copper-colored light, it denotes a thunder storm."
The cumulus is seen with a rising barometer generally. The cu-
mulo-stratus appears much like the cumulus, indicating sudden
changes of wind, thunder squalls, and even hail. It tends to raise
the mercury. The stratus, in the words of the same authority
above quoted, "is formed from the sudden chill of certain strata of
the atmosphere, which, condensing the vapor contained in them,
renders it visible in a misty cloud or creeping fog. Calm weather
is essential for the formation of the stratus ; it is frequent in fine
22 DEW-POINT.
autumnal nights and mornings. It obscures the sun until his rays
have raised the temperature of the air sufficiently to evaporate it,
when it gradually disappears and leaves a clear, blue sky. The
stratus deposits moisture, is called the night cloud and is most fre-
quent from September till January. When the temperature, from ra-
diation or other causes, sinks below 32°, we find it fettered with icy
spiculse upon trees and shrubs and sparkling in exquisite frost work
upon all nature." It is not known to affect the barometer much
either way. The nimbus is seen during showers : it is not seen with
the barometer at great heights. A study of vapor point would be of
great interest to one desiring to pursue this subject further ; and
there are plenty of books on Physics and Physical Geography for
those who are thus inclined, not to waste useless space and time
here upon definitions. One point further, however, before we
leave the subject : —
We see, therefore, that the rising or falling of the barometric
needle corresponds with the pressure of the atmosphere. This
pressure is due to changes of temperature, moisture and wind.
To show that the barometer is more of an instrument than appears
upon first sight, and must be studied in itself without reference to
the words marked upon its face, a clause from one of our
scientific college text-books of natural philosophy tells us that "the
practice formerly prevailed of engraving at different points of
the barometric scale several words expressive of states of weather :
fair, rain, frost, wind, etc., etc. But such indications are worthless,
being as often false as true : this is evident from the fact that
the height of the column would be changed from one kind of
weather to another by simply carrying the instrument to a higher
or lower station." The measuring of heights by the barometer will
be spoken of in another place. It remains but to speak of
the dew-point, and the resultant forms of water manifested. The
dew-point is "the temperature at which vapor, in a given case,
is precipitated into water in some of its forms." The amount of
vapor in the air is expressed by its tension or elastic power, and its
humidity, or "its quantity present, as compared with the greatest
USE OF BAROMETER.
possible amount at that temperature." When the air is colder than
the temperature of the dew-point, the surplus amount of vapor is
condensed by the amount of difference of pressure, and the result
is dew, frost, fog, etc. The first deposition is dew ; then, according
as the radiating body is acted upon with greater or less amount of
temperature, we have frost ; then fog, which becomes clouds of dif-
ferent kinds, forms, and shapes ; these in turn condense and pre-
cipitate rain, which pressure still forms into a spray called mist ; and
this, crystallizing, gives us, first hail, then sleet, and finally snow in
all its perfection of microscopic crystals.
Before closing my remarks on the barometer a few quotations
from the Sailing Directions will serve to give you a good idea of
the use of this instrument, or rather of the use it may be if carefully
and properly studied. "The barometer has a range of from 29 to
30.5 inches in the Gulf and River St. Lawrence during the navigable
season, and its changes accompany those of the winds and weather
with a considerable degree of constancy. The fluctuations of the
barometric column are much greater and more frequent there than
in lower latitudes, and sudden alterations, which in other climates
would be alarming, may occur there without being followed by any
corresponding change either in the wind or in the weather." The
most practical part is still to follow, and expresses the pith of all
that can be said thus concisely : "But the navigator should not be
inattentive to these minor changes, as a constant attention to the
instrument can alone enable him to appreciate those decisive indi-
cations of the mercury which seldom or never prove deceptive."
Quoting further from the same source, of the fogs it says : "they
may occur at any time during the open or navigable season, but
are most frequent in the early part of summer ; they are rare, and
never of long continuance during westerly winds, but seldom fail
to accompany an easterly wind of any strength or duration. The
above general observation is subject, however, to restriction, ac-
cording to locality or season. Thus winds between the south and
west, which are usually clear weather winds above Anticosti, are fre-
quently accompanied with fog in the eastern parts of the gulf.
24 FOGS.
Winds between the south and east are most always accompanied
with rain and fog in every part. E. N. E. winds above Point de
Monts are often E. S. E. or S. E. winds in the Gulf, changed in direc-
tion by the high lands of the south coast, and have therefore, in gen-
eral, the same foggy character. Winds of considerable strength and
duration are meant here, which probably extend over great dis-
tances. Moderate or partially fine weather winds may occur with-
out fog at any season, and in any locality. In the early part of the
navigable season, especially in the months of April and May, clear
weather N. E. winds are of frequent occurrence, and they also
sometimes occur at other seasons in every part of the Gulf and
River St. Lawrence. "The fogs sometimes last several days in
succession and to a vessel either running up or beating down, dur-
ing their continuance, there is no safe guide but the constant use of
the deep-sea lead, with a chart containing correct soundings.
"The fogs which accompany easterly gales extend higher up into
the atmosphere, and cannot be looked over from any part of the
rigging of a ship. They, however, are not so thick as those which
occur in calms after a strong wind, and which are frequently so
dense as to conceal a vessel within hail, while the former often,
but not always, admit the land, or other objects, to be distinguished
at the distance of half a mile or more in the daytime.
"The dense fogs which occur in calms, or even in very light
winds, often extend only to small elevations above the sea ; so that
it sometimes happens that when objects are hidden at a distance of
fifty yards from the deck, they can be plainly seen by a person fifty or
sixty feet up the rigging. In the months of October and Novem-
ber, the fogs and rain that accompany easterly gales are replaced
by thick snow, which causes equal embarrassment to the navigator."
I have frequently proven the truth of nearly every statement
contained within the above quotation.
One other subject remains to be spoken of, and that but briefly :
It is the ice of the Gulf of St. Lawrence and the Straits of Belle
Isle. It is very fortunate for us that the admirable work done by
Bayfield along this part of the coast remains as a monument to his
DRIFT ICE. 25
thoroughness of exploration and the study of the phenomena of this
region. His well chosen language often supplies to us the lack-
ing power of expression in descriptions of this kind, and we take
his words in preference to our own. On this subject, also, he re-
marks : "In spring, the entrance and the eastern parts of the Gulf
of St. Lawrence are frequently covered with drift ice, and vessels
are sometimes beset with it for many days." I have seen a vessel
in the spring of the year closed in on all sides by ice that formed
during the night augmented by drift, and obliged to stay there the
remainder of the week until the sun broke the surrounding crust
and the wind dispersed the drift. Again he says : "Being unfitted
for contending with the danger, they often suffer from it and are
frequently lost ; but serious accidents from this cause do not occur
frequently, because the ice is generally in a melting state from the
powerful effects of the sun in spring. In the fall of the year, acci-
dents seldom occur from ice, except when the winter commences
suddenly, or when vessels linger imprudently late from the tempta-
tion of obtaining high freights." Several instances have occurred
where boats and small vessels have thus lingered late and been
overtaken by the breaking up of previously formed and solid ice
by the sun's rays, on some warm day, and thus been carried off into
the Gulf, or wrecked on some of the islands or more dangerous
portions of the surrounding coast. In the fall when the ice from
above breaks up and is taken by the current through the Straits of
Belle Isle, ships often run into large floating bergs that are lying
about here and there in the water, and directly in the way of nav-
igation, and are either crushed by the falling of the berg upon them,
if it be a tall and large one (for it must be remembered that from
two-fifths to nine-tenths of an iceberg remains under the water, and
that, gradually worn away by abrasion and the warmer waters
of the current, it has become so brittle that a jar easily displaces it
and therefore causes the remainder to assume a different position
— by which I mean that the whole structure falls — and thus doing
damage according to its size) ; or, again, a vessel going with her
usual speed may run into a solid block of ice, where indeed the cur-
26 DRIFT ICE.
rent would be otherwise unimpeded, and cause much damage in
this way. In spring the water is covered with what, in Labrador, is
termed sheshe ice ; this is a thin mass of slob (another expression
used here) that has formed by frost or snow, or a combination of
both, during the night, which in the morning when the sun comes up
breaks up and goes floating about in the water, often attaching
and carrying away with it still other pieces of stray ice, and
becoming generally dangerous. Small boats, that are at this season
numerous, since the dog sleds can no longer be used, often get
entangled in these masses, while a turn of the weather brings cold
that cements them into the ice which forms an impassable barrier
to further progress. The boat cannot urge a way through it, and
the foot cannot yet walk on it, the craft drifts at the mercy of the
tide, the currents, and the wind, and is often carried out into the
Gulf, or thrown in contact with the shore, while woeful tales of
starvation are known to be only too true from this as other like
causes. The ice causes another sort of damage here, which is a
source of great annoyance. Large numbers of pieces of ice are
found at the first breaking up of the bays and waters, until August,
and often even later. I have known a piece to strand on some
fishing ground, and with a rising tide go on its slow but in a
measure almost irresistible way directly through the well laid nets
of the fishermen, carrying them off bodily into the sea. Of course
this cannot be helped, yet I have witnessed this spectacle, with the
unfortunate fellows thus loosing their net, from the shore, unable
to do anything with them to recover the lost property. Naviga-
tion in the Gulf and River St. Lawrence is usually closed the first
of December, and remains so until the first of May ; even after
that, drift ice in large quantities is liable to occur for a month more.
TRIP TO LABRADOR. 27
CHAPTER II.
Trip to Labrador — Arrival at Montreal — Arrival at Quebec, and Description
of the City.
IT was in the early part of September that I first formed the idea
of a trip to Labrador, where I hoped to remain during the winter
months, and the following season. I had been working hard
during the previous year, and forming an idea that a trip to
Labrador and a study of the natural history of that region would
be of great use in the determination of the variety of species and
their geographical distribution in migration in the study of New
England Natural History, I determined to profit by an opportunity
offered and start for the coast.
Knowing that the last vessel left Quebec for Labrador some-
time during the above mentioned month, a letter and a telegram
apprised us (myself and two friends who also wished to go) that
we must start for Quebec at once if we wished to reach this means
of conveyance before it was too late. My letters reached me on
Thursday the gih of the month, and this gave but two days to pre-
pare for a journey of over a thousand miles, and an absence of at
least a year in the cold region of the North, since I must leave by
the late train on Saturday night to be in time to reach the vessel
which the letter said would probably start Tuesday from Quebec.
The suddenness of the decision which I had thus formed will be
seen when I say that many of my friends saw the news first in the
papers before even my letters reached them, though I had written
as soon as it was possible after deciding. Intending to purchase
28 LEAVING HOME.
the greater part of my supplies in Quebec, I put in my trunk only
.such things as I needed, adding a few simple medicines, since I
was going to a place where there were no doctors, and, bidding
my home and friends the usual form of parting, was at the station
promptly for the train.
Travelling by night is at no time pleasant to the majority of peo-
ple whose occupation takes them from place to place, and it is often
especially unpleasant where the nine o'clock evening train is a slow
mixture of a very few passenger and a great many freight cars, whose
fastest gait is an amble, and its stops frequent and of long duration ;
while the interior of the most inhabitable of the cars upon the pas-
senger list is at best a dim, cloudy, close atmosphere of condensed
and accumulated dirt and soot and bad breath, — said interior look-
ing as if it had seen neither pure air nor water since the day of its
first appearance on the road up to the present. Such as it was we
were all soon seated, as comfortably as possible, having waved our
hands at our friends on the platform, feeling that the car was
really in motion and we were being surely drawn towards the north
and away from home. It was then that I had my first opportunity
for reflecting : first, that I was leaving home for a new and compara-
tively little-known region, second, that I might have left the very
things that I should most want and need and taken things that would
be of comparatively little or no use — though there was really little
to fear on that score ; — and third, as to the prospect of outliving
the fierce winter of such a region as that to which we were going.
I did not long trouble myself with these reflections, however, as
the hurry, excitement, and constant bustle of the past two days had
left me considerably fatigued, and so turning over an empty seat
behind, and arranging myself in the most comfortable position
possible where the seats are hard at the best, I composed myself to
sleep. I say to sleep, but I should much better have said to try to
sleep ; no doubt the excitement of the previous days rendered it a
more difficult matter than it would have been had the journey been
longer contemplated. Thus I dozed away and caught an occasional
nap of short duration throughout the night, until we reached St.
ARRIVAL AT MONTREAL.
Albans somewhere in the small hours of the morning. After a little
refreshment, and a short stay here, not long enough, however, to
enable me to get much of a glimpse of this queer old Canadian
and American town,, yet with plenty of time to secure the latest
New York and Boston newspapers, the train which was to take
us to Montreal arrived ; and soon we were whirling off in the di-
rection of that place, comfortably seated in a car whose atmosphere
was a pleasing variation from that of the car we had so lately
left, in that its purity was its main attraction. We had now daylight
before us, and though still rather tired and sleepy, could at least
vary the monotony of our trip with the natural objects that pre-
sented themselves to our gaze through the car windows. An
officer soon awakened those disposed to slumber with the in-
telligence that we were crossing the line and must soon submit
to having our baggage inspected. I thought it very kind of him to
give us notice beforehand of this most important event, and also
most kind of the inspector when he appeared, and most indicative
of his ability to judge of human character by the face, that he
gave us so little trouble with our bundles. These contemplations,
however, did not long deter me from another attempt at a nap, and
once more settling myself down I tried to sleep.
As our train went along slowly it was sometime before we reached
Victoria bridge spanning the St. Lawrence below Montreal ; after
a long rumbling through this covered bridge, whose little skylights
far above the head on the side of the building shed but a feeble
occasional gleam, we emerged into the light again only to pass along
through low flats of land or near high walls of buildings, both of
which seemed equally the abodes of poverty and dirt, and reached
Montreal two hours late since we were due at 8 and it was
then 10 A. M. Here our trunks were inspected with the same
kindness that our bundles had been in the cars — mine not being
opened at all — and we were soon rumbling over the stones to the
hotel where an abundance of good warm substantial food soon
revived us again. It is quite unnecessary to enter into a description
of this old-fashioned place, as that has been too often done
30 EN ROUTE FOR QUEBEC.
and to a much better advantage than anything I could say with
my present knowledge of the city, confined as it is to a day only,
and that too a Sunday, when none of the places of interest to the
visitor were open, and the long lines of huge, gloomy stone buildings
frowned upon pavements, and churches, especially that massive
structure, the Notre-Dame Cathedral alone, were the scene of flock-
ing multitudes.
Early the next day, at about seven o'clock, we were aroused
from our sleep and told to get ready at once as the train for Quebec,
and the one on which we intended leaving, started from the other
end of the city at about half-past seven, a truly cheering bit of news.
Hastily dressing and descending to the hotel parlor I found my
friends just hurrying down from their room, and together we went
to the clerk to inquire if breakfast was ready ; to our surprise it
was not, but soon would be. Here was a long delay of five or ten
minutes before the door to the breakfast-room was opened, and we
were summoned to table just as the coach drove up to the door
bringing us word that we were probably already too late to catch
the train ; but breakfast must be eaten, and some six minutes were
lost again which made the driver sure we were too late, while it
assured us that we had had just enough hot steak and coffee to
make us wish for more.
Nothing could be done, however, but to pay an exorbitant hotel
bill and urge the coach off at its fastest gait for the depot at the
other end of the town. We had six minutes, I think, in which to
accomplish our journey of about a mile over the hardest of pave-
ments, and in a vehicle that tossed about from side to side threaten-
ing every moment to upset as we fairly steamed down the streets,
rattling as if our life depended on the amount of noise made, and
bouncing about in a manner calculated to digest what little nourish-
ment we had taken before our ride was half completed.
We reached the door of the station on the minute, purchased
our tickets, received our checks from the driver, who had left his
team at eminent risk of its running away to procure them, and
stepped on the train as it was just moving from the depot.
STOP FOR LUNCH, 31
Travelling by rail is at no time pleasant when the train is a slow
one, and the prospect of an all day's trip a pretty safe one. I do
not mean to enter into the subject of conveniences or inconve-
niences of such travelling, but true it is, that one can often make
one's self comfortable or uncomfortable, as one desires, when placed
under such circumstances. Desiring the former, as by all means
to be preferred to the latter, I took off my tall hat and, much to
the apparent envy (I flatter myself judging from their looks) of
several persons around me, drew from my pocket, and adjusted on
my head, a soft, brimless, smoking cap, while I lay back in the
seat, head to the window and feet on the extreme end of the cush-
ion and against the handle bars, and read my book. Oblivious to
all around, I continued to peruse the before mentioned volume
till our noon stop at a long-platformed, spacious-roomed station.
Finding, here, that it would be an hour or more before the train
was made up that was to take us on to Quebec, or rather Point
Levis, as we were on the Montreal side of the river yet, I took a
hasty lunch in the refreshment room and then started off in the
direction of the river which here flowed gently by not far off, at the
right of the railroad track. The water was quite shallow at this
place, and long banks of sand extended here and there in points as
far as one could see. I thus walked easily half way across the
stream, stepping cautiously over rills and damp and soft places,
until I came to the main channel of the water. As far as I could
see, both up and down the stream, these low sand flats extended
fully half way across the bed of the river ; exposed now, though
probably a part of the year several feet under water.
Dead shells of various species of Unio, and Anodon, common to
fresh water rivers farther south and west, were everywhere in abun-
dance. I gathered several distinct species, all of which probably
live in the river in great numbers.
But time progressing, I unwillingly relinquished my pleasant
acquaintance with these attractive natural surroundings of a place,
none too well known natural-history-wise, and pocketing my spec-
imens started for the station. To the amusement of several gen-
32 ARRIVAL AT PORT LEVIS.
tlemen of the, perhaps, loafing profession, — though I may be do-
ing said gentlemen a great injustice, for which I beg many pardons,
not intending my remark as an insult, but rather using the word in
place of any knowledge of the occupation of said persons who
were strangers to me, — whose inquisitiveness led them to assemble
about me and ask various questions, I emptied my pockets on the
sill of a window of the station house and proceeded to do the
specimens up carefully in papers that I might the more easily carry
them, and having placed them in a satchel, I began to look about me
for the train. Before long it approached the station, and after stand-
ing still in front of the door for half an hour or so, during which
time we transferred our portable luggage and ourselves to a
comfortable seat near the rear of the last car, it slowly started off,
and again we were on the move.
The train was a slow one, and after occupying half of the after-
noon reading I spent the greater part of the remainder of the trip
on the rear platform watching the nature of the country through
which we were passing. The air was cool and clear, and veg-
etation and foliage still wore their summer dress, but in place of
the usual moist feeling which New England air possesses, the words
dry and crisp seem to express, to me at least, the condition of
earth and air in this "cold temperate " region of the globe. Stand-
ing thus and enjoying the comfort and ease with which the car
slowly proceeded through the varied scenes along the passage, the
shades of evening approached, and as darkness came on, passing
through the outskirts of what was apparently a manufacturing vil-
lage, by day the scene of industry, but now a confusion of shops,
sheds, wharves and buildings, as seen thus in the darkness of night,
we came at last to the celebrated Port Levis.
It was night when we reached this ancient military station, and
being in great haste to see to the transporting of our luggage to the
ferry boat which was then waiting for us and the other passengers
who were to be transported to the Quebec side, there was no op-
portunity of going about the place at all with the view of exam-
ining its huge fortresses of military fame, and of which we had read,
CROSSING THE FERRY.
as well as its other attractions of merit ; we could simply reflect
on the immense cost of warfare, and of the reported expenditure
of some millions of dollars in the construction of the three forts
here represented, as well as their maintenance, and which, defend-
ing the lower harbor and city of Quebec, rendered the place fa-
mous. If my memory serves me, it was in 1759 that the lower
town of Quebec was bombarded from the heights of this town by
General Monckton, at the time the English captured the former
place and reduced it to an English Province. Hastily recalling
these events the boat is quite ready to leave, and we are soon set-
tled and pursuing our way accompanied by the dash and splash
of the paddles as heard from outside, and the nearer plunge and
spit of the engine as it drove the machinery, while the fires below
roared and crackled, and the boat shivered from stem to stern as
she urged her way forward in the dark waters which sent billows
of foam on either side of the prow, to reflect an instant in some
light either from the vessels near by, or the lamps on the opposite
shore.
The scene that presented itself to us as we stood thus on deck
looking out into the twilight about and beyond was one of strange
fantasy, you might almost say : above, on our left, dark frown-
ing heights were illuminated with lamps that sent their rays
in many directions penetrating the darkness, while all about us the
solitary lights of vessels lying at anchor glimmered from a darkness,
which occasionally reflected a darker outline of the vessel to whose
light we were nearest. We wove in and out of these until, rounding
the cliff, the full blaze of the lower town shone upon us, and
showed the confusion of a low-roofed housed city on the left, and
a river full of boats, vessels, and ships of all kinds and descriptions
on the right ; thus we approached the landing.
I had chosen the deck of this little ferry steamer for my outlook
upon the city, as I could then have plenty of air, and be free from
the crowd below. The boat was small and substantially built,
rather cramped for standing or sitting room, and inconvenient;
besides, the body of the lower part was an open receptacle for
3
34 ARRIVAL IN QUEBEC.
bales, boxes, and bags of luggage which nearly filled it, and the
passengers' rooms small and full of angles and corners ; every-
where a strong smell of closeness overladen with tobacco smoke
filled the air, and moving about was attended with a great deal
of difficulty. Congratulating myself that I had secured as airy
a place as anybody, and viewing the scene as I have attempted to
describe it, we slowly made the landing and were in Quebec.
The lower city of Quebec presents very few attractions by night
to a stranger ; the streets and the sidewalks are narrow, while both
are muddy and slippery at this season of the year, especially
if it has lately rained. The cooped-up feeling that it gives you
to land in one of these narrow alley streets and find that you
know nobody and nobody knows you, that you don't know where to
go and a dozen cab drivers and hotel porters all say that you are
going with them, is a peculiar one and best appreciated by anybody
that has been in such a place and obliged to decide immediately
what to do, or have it decided for him by having his baggage
and himself suddenly ushered into a cab and the door shut, — this
is anything but pleasant. Though I did not undergo this last ex-
perience literally, it was so near becoming such that the cab started
oif with the luggage ; while, after a few inquiries and some compli-
cated directions, I started off to find the wharf at which the vessel
destined to convey me away was moored. My companions and
myself went together and after travelling through various streets and
turning down many side alleys, all of which presented the same
dirty, narrow, and contracted general appearance, bestrewn with
plenty of mud and nearly solitary, we approached a shed-like open-
ing on the opposite side of a very dirty street, through which we
passed and emerged on a long wharf, on either side of which were
vessels closely packed and in process some of lading and some
of unlading. Not knowing which one contained the object of our
search, — the captain, with whom we had not yet even taken pas-
sage,— we hailed a man standing by and inquired of him ; from his
reply, only given after the question had been repeated in French, we
found the vessel, aroused some of the crew, and put to them our
STROLLING ABOUT THE CITY. 35
inquiries for the captain and learned that he was probably at the hotel
to which our luggage had been taken. There being nothing to do but
to go back again and find the hotel, we started off in no very pleas-
ant spirits at the failure of our expedition. Pursuing the way in
silence we again reached our stopping place, found the captain, en-
gaged our passage, settled all the preliminaries, and were soon
washed and sitting down to a spread table with the prospect of a
comfortable, hot meal of the best the place afforded, in which we
were not deceived. The grossness of describing a meal, unless it
is an exceptionally good or an extremely poor one, is so obvious
that I will not enter into the details of ours, but, simply using the
novelist's phrase say, "we ate as only hungry persons eat with a sa-
vory and hot meal before them." I retired quite early after supper
being rather tired with the excitement of the previous day's journey,
and determined now that we had reached Quebec, and knowing
that we had all the next day before us, to make up for my lost
quota of sleep of the previous nights.
Morning came at last and with it I sprang from my bed, quickly
dressed myself, and descended to the hotel office. The night had
been a good one for sleeping, the air was cool and the temperature
outside such that windows could be safely kept open all night. I
had slept soundly, not waking once to the best of my recollection
till morning ; and now, refreshed and enthusiastic for a day's pleasure
trip about the city, I took my cap and went out for a short stroll
before breakfast which was not yet ready.
As a rule I do not believe in introducing borrowed matter into a
work that pretends to be an account of original journey and explo-
ration narrative, but as occasionally the already published accounts
of well known places visited on such excursions, from the pens of
accurate writers, are so much more complete than could be given
by any passing stranger, that, considering myself such a stranger,
and finding in a little volume of guidance through the city of
Quebec a most excellent account of the progress and growth of
that city, I will venture to give the same in extract, as it may contain
matter new to many and interesting to all : —
36 HISTORY OF QUEBEC.
"In 1534 Canada was discovered by Jacques Carrier, of St. Malo,
in France. The name is derived from 'Kanata', an Indian word
signifying 'a. collection of huts.' In 1535 Jacques Cartier made
a second voyage and made friends with Donnacona, the chief of
Stadacona, where Quebec now stands. Stadacona is Algonquin,
while Tiontirili is Huron, both meaning 'the narrowing of the
river ; ' the St. Lawrence being less than a mile wide opposite the
city. Jacques Cartier wintered in the river St. Charles and called
it St. Croix. His winter quarters were near the present residence
of Mr. Park Ringfield. In 1540 he made a third voyage and built
a fort at Cape Rouge and also visited Hochelaga, now Montreal.
In 1 608 Champlain arrived at Stadacona, and landing his followers
founded the city of Quebec. No satisfactory explanation can be
given of the meaning of the word. The city has been besieged five
different times. In 1629 Champlain was obliged to deliver up
everything to Sir David Kerkt ; but by the treaty of St. Germain-
en-Laye, Canada was restored to France, and Champlain returned
as Governor of the colony. In October, 1690, Sir William Phipps
appeared before the city and demanded its surrender of Count de
Frontenac who refused ; after a harmless bombardment the English
retired. In 1711 another English fleet under Sir Harendon Walker
sailed for Quebec, but was nearly destroyed by a storm in the Gulf
of St. Lawrence ; for these two last deliverances the little church
in the lower town was called Notre Dame des Victoires.
"On the 25th of June, 1759, Admiral Saunders anchored his
fleet and transports, with General Wolfe and the English army on
board, off the Island of Orleans, then called Isle de Bacchus.
The troops landed on the Island on the following day, near the
church of St. Laurent and marched to the west end from which
position they could view Quebec ; the French army under Mont-
calm, consisting of about 13,000 men, was encamped on the oppo-
site shore of Beauport. General Monckton, with four battalions,
occupied the heights of Levis from which position he bombarded
the city and laid it in ruins. General Wolfe then crossed to the
mainland, to the east of the river Montmorenci, and on the 3ist
HISTORY OF QUEBEC. 37
of July attacked the French and was defeated with a loss of 182
killed, 650 wounded, and 15 missing. After some delay the Eng-
lish fleet sailed past the city and on the i4th of September landed
his troops at Wolfe's Cove, scaled the famous heights of Abra-
ham, met the astonished Montcalm and defeated him. Wolfe died
on the field in the moment of victory, and Montcalm, killed also,
was buried in the Ursuline Convent. The city was surrendered to
the English on the i8th of the month and General Murray with
6000 men was left as a garrison, — the former was also Governor.
The fleet with Wolfe's body sailed for England in October. On
the 28th of April the next year a French army of 10,000 men,
under De Levis, appeared on the Plains of Abraham and met
Murray with 3,000, sickness and death having reduced the number.
The English were obliged to retire behind the fortifications of the
city, but on the i5th of May, an English fleet under Commodore
Saunders, arrived with reinforcements, and compelled the French
to retreat. At this time Quebec became an English colony.
"In 1775 Quebec was again threatened. General Arnold, with
a small American army, arrived on the heights of Levis by the
Chaudiere valley and on the i4th November landed at Wolfe's
Cove ; soon General Montgomery took command ; the attack was
unsuccessful though much property was destroyed just outside the
town, while Montgomery was killed and Arnold wounded.
"In 1837 Quebec suffered a rebellion within its own walls. The
militia were called out and the city placed under military rule but
nothing of consequence occurred. One night, however, there was
heard a loud ringing of bells, and it was said that the rebels had
risen and would sack the place. The cause of all this alarm
was, nevertheless, very simple — the singeing of a pig in the Hotel
Dieu Nunnery Yard. In the following year Messrs. Teller and
Dodge, two American sympathizers imprisoned with three others in
the Citadel, escaped ; four of them let themselves down from the
flagstaff bastion, and Teller and Dodge passing the city gates
reached the U. S.
38 HISTORY OF QUEBEC.
"In 1832 and '34 Quebec was visited by the Asiatic Cholera.
In 1834 the Castle St. Louis was destroyed by fire. On May 28,
1845, the whole of St. Roche was burnt; on June 28, the suburbs
of St. John and St. Louis were also burnt ; the loss by these two
fires was over $2,000,000, the insurance and subscriptions of aid
amounting to $900,000. In 1846, in the month of June, the Thea-
tre, formerly the Riding school attached to the Castle of St. Louis,
was destroyed by fire during a performance when the building was
crowded, — fifty-five persons lost their lives. In 1853 the Parlia-
ment houses were burnt down, when a large library and museum
were destroyed. The sittings of the House were transferred to
the Church of the Grey Sisters near Gallows Hill (which had not
then been consecrated) ; this also burnt down, when the sittings
were held in Music Hall in Louis Street. In 1867 the Province of
Quebec was granted a colonial government, with the seat of the
Province at Quebec."
SIGHT-SEEING.
CHAPTER III.
Our stay in Quebec — Starting for Berthier — Berthier — Off for Labrador
Bunking in — Island of Orleans — Islands and Channels — Sunday
Other Islands — The Saguenay — Fog again.
I WILL not attempt to give a description of my feelings at being in
this ancient city, nor yet will I give an account, which would be
much inferior to many former similar ones, of the sights I saw and
the impressions they left upon me ; all this has been done so often by
others that the charm of novelty would be lost, and it would prove
only a waste of time and words thus to attempt to describe, from
a stay of only a few days, that which would need weeks to see
properly. I will therefore hasten to say, that the brief stay here
was spent in the continual pleasure of evening rambles about town,
combined with the necessity and in truth unpleasantness of mak-
ing daily purchases for a year's sojourn in a country about which I
knew very little ; yet the pleasure, counterbalancing this unpleas-
antness, so far exceeded it, that I remember the former while forget-
ting the latter. The walks about the Terrace, of a calm, clear
evening, both before and after the lamps were lighted, displayed
the lower city and harbor — the former with its rows of roofs, for
they were the only parts of the houses visible, and the latter with its
countless masts and water-vehicles from the boat to the man-of-war,
of which three lay swinging at the end of their cables just near the
channel over against the opposite shore, the whole scene present-
-ilent witness to the industry of the day ; then the view of
Point Levis from the walls of the upper city ; and a trip around the
city itself, — all these are pleasures to be remembered ; and I shall
40 PREPARING FOR DEPARTURE.
remember them with a fresh delight whenever I recall the circum-
stances that caused me to start upon this Labrador trip, for the
invigorating air of new scenes and a new climate.
Friday, in the evening, we started from the hotel, with our bag-
gage, for the vessel. Arriving there we deposited our effects on
the wharf, whence they were speedily transported to the deck;
then the trunks were taken to the hold and the bags and boxes to the
cabin of the vessel, and we stationed ourselves to wait for the captain,
as we expected him to start that night. After waiting several hours,
and some after dark and consequently past supper time, — which
fact I mention since our dinner had been taken early and it was now
fast getting late, — he arrived in a great hurry, and then we learned
that the vessel must wait until high tide (it was then low and we
could see the muddy bottom near the vessel), which would not be
until about three next morning, before leaving ; the ladies of the
party not caring to sleep in so exposed a situation, the captain
kindly invited us to the hotel, where we all went with him, partook
of an oyster supper, and passed the night quite comfortably. The
vessel started in the morning for Berthier, where we were to meet
her the next day noon by a little steamer that runs from Quebec
and makes that place one of its stopping stations. The night's rest
had refreshed us and the next morning, quite disconsolately, we
wandered about the streets of the lower city, and the wharf whence
the steamer was to leave, waiting for the time of departure, which
came slowly. It was market-day, and the streets, especially the
square about the market, were crowded with all sorts and nationali-
ties of people buying their week's provisions ; we watched them for
a long time, and were especially amused in noticing the people
who failed to catch the ferry boat that landed not far from us.
Some ran for it and, leaping, caught it, but others running for it
failed to catch it ; and as the boats alternated with each other every
fifteen minutes, there was always some one in a state of frenzy
with the retreating ferry for a fault for which he alone was to blame ;
there were several old women with large baskets, evidently returning
home from market ; two or three priests ; and a number of other peo-
BERTHIER. 41
pie who were successively left by the retreating boat, — some express-
ing their indignation while others, like ourselves, contented themselves
to wait their turn. At last, twelve o'clock, and our captain, came ;
and the steamer started. We slowly passed along the channel,
watching the scenes on either bank, and, leaving the city with its
confusion and the harbor with its abundance of crafts of all kinds,
we steamed into pure waters, clearer atmosphere, and the rocky
borders of the mighty St. Lawrence. On our left we presently
passed, if I remember rightly, the famous falls of Montmorency —
at least we saw a precipitous mass of dashing, struggling waters,
that looked the mighty cascade that it probably was — while a short
turn soon brought us to the Berthier wharf. Our vessel was at the
wharf receiving her last cargo, in the shape of potatoes and sev-
eral kinds of fresh vegetables, for her voyage, and as it would take
several hours to complete the loading we accepted the captain's
kind invitation to visit his home and dine there with him. Berthier
is a small French Canadian village, situated on the southern side of
the St. Lawrence, and very nearly opposite the eastern extremity
of the island of Orleans ; it is about fifteen miles from Quebec.
The long wharf built for the accommodation of freight and coal,
extending far into the water, had several vessels lying at each side,
either being or waiting to be loaded, and though the coal dust
was everywhere under foot, and in the air flying in our faces, we
forced ourselves through it and soon reached a cleaner footing
and much purer air. A walk up a rather long slightly sloping
hill brought us to the principal street, along which low roofed, yet
small and cosey looking houses, for the most part clean with
white paint, not yet ugly from exposure, with their correspond-
ing barns — mostly unpainted — extended on either side where
the open fields on the right near the water, and high hillocks of
granite on the left, back of the houses, had not established a prior
claim. As neat a house as appeared, on this apparently one
streeted township of about fifty houses — if the town was really no
larger than it seemed — was that of our Captain, and we
passed a quiet time both before and after a hearty, homely meal,
42 BUNKING IN.
until about dusk, when we started for the wharf again taking a cut
across the meadows in the direction of the water, having seen very
little of the town itself, though enough to commend it as an old
fashioned, curious place, well worth visiting and investigating.
Soon the wharf was gained ; a boat waiting bore us to the vessel,
which by this time had finished her loading and was lying at anchor
out in the channel, and with a dim twilight at our backs, a light-
house in front of us, and a bonny breeze to shape our course, we
hoisted sail and bade farewell to the last landing this side of "The
Labrador," whither we shaped our course. We were at last really
moving. The vessel was really gliding along under the pressure of
the wind towards that region so prominent on the eastern part of
northern North America, yet so little known, called the plateau of
Labrador, or, as the people themselves call it, as I have above
quoted, "The Labrador."
It is by no means an easy matter to arrange four persons, let us
say for example two men and two ladies — though it makes very little
difference as to the number and sex when even a single person is, so
to speak, unceremoniously deposited in a small cabin of a small
sailing vessel, and shown a small bunk in which to sleep, scarcely
big enough for one yet the usual abode of two able bodied ( ?) sea-
men— in such contracted compartments as those we were about to oc-
cupy : how the affair was brought to a happy termination I cannot
tell. Our voyage would last about a week, our accommodations
for that time multum in parvo, and with a more literal meaning
than we had ever before imagined that the words could possibly con-
vey. Our trunks were expelled from the cabin and confined to the
hold ; our bags were insufficient at best to meet our wants ; the mat-
ter was thus ludicrous as well as provokingly uncomfortable and in-
convenient. While we were enjoying ourselves on the outside of
the cabin, watching the stars, the dim outlines of the shores in the
darkness around, and the darker yet sparkling water — sparkling
from the reflection of the stars — the ladies were somehow prepar-
ing affairs below ; soon they joined us, and we together sat watching,
we could hardly tell what (the custom usually seems to be when
ISLAND OF ORLEANS. 43
starting on a sea trip, to spend the first evening on deck) , until the
lateness and chilliness of the hour reminded us of our berths below,
and descending the narrow stairs or steps of the cabin we sought
them and were soon wrapped in slumber in spite of the uncom-
fortableness of our contracted and narrow box-beds.
I will not describe either the ship or the accommodations provided
for us while we traversed the St. Lawrence to our destination ; the lat-
ter would be too personal a matter, — though it was the best the place
afforded, — and the former, hardly differing from the thousand water
conveyances, of similar shape and size, too trivial and uninterest-
ing to be worth mention here. Four of us, who were together bound
for the same place, made the best and freest use of both ship and
accommodations, while the sociality usual on shipboard prevailed
with great harmony. In so small a vessel we could not but take an
interest in all that occurred, and in all the crew, and they, no doubt,
took full notice of all we said or did ; while the wonder expressed
in their faces whenever I at least met them seemed plainly to say,
why are you going to such a place as Labrador ? to which mute
question I reserved the probable and veracious answer — I hardly
know myself, why. Now that we were fully started upon our
journey, the chart, the directions for sailing, and what we did and
saw occupied our chief attention, and as we pursued our way we
studied these diligently.
In going to Berthier by the steamer we had passed the Island of
Orleans, that curious, oval island only three miles outside of Quebec
that so nearly fills the river at this point. It lies like an egg in the
very centre of the stream with only a narrow pass on either side, and
while its length is full eighteen miles, its width is scarcely five. The
north shore being rather flat and muddy with more or less rocky out-
line, the south shore with its sandy beach and few rocky points pre-
sents the best and most used channel for vessels going to and from
Quebec. From a central elevation of some three hundred and
seventy-five feet the land slopes to the rather steep banks around it.
We did not see much of the beautiful gardens and places which are
said to occupy the southern slope of the island, neither did we see
44 CHANNELS AND ISLANDS.
the little churches of St. Lawrence and St. John though standing
near the shore, since we had no one to point them out to us. The
two lighthouses, that of St. John village with its white revolving
flash every half-minute, which is visible ten miles, and that of St.
Lawrence village with its fixed white light visible eight miles, would
also have escaped our notice, as we passed them in the daytime and
not the night, but that the white towers seen from the wharf attracted
our attention. On leaving Berthier a small fixed light on a little
island, known as Belle Chasse Island, guided us towards the entrance
of that part of the channel known as the Middle Traverse. Leaving
the North Channel, separated from our route by a shoal of rocks
and reefs on the north, and the South Traverse, similarly separated
on the south, we pursued our way, by this time guided by the fixed
light on the western end of Crane Island, which with Goose Island,
forms a very narrow, meadowy, and muddy strip of land, some fif-
teen miles long between us and South Traverse, until we had safely
passed the dangerous shoal in the centre of the Traverse ; then,
coming into clear open water, we saw the light boats of St. Roque
on our right, and Isle aux Coudres on our left as we sailed easily
and pleasantly along the now safe passage before us. Soon the
captain with the chart showed us our position, and a hasty glance
as we passed this little island, about twice as long as it is broad (5 ±
miles by 2^-), lying snugly tucked away in a baylike enlargement
of the north shore, revealed but a glimpse of Notre Dame Church
steeple as we passed to the open water beyond. Here we came
for the first time upon the open river, a distance of about eleven
miles across from Mai Bay (which is ninety miles from Quebec and
noted for its salt-water bathing and trout fishing, the sports of its
summer visitors, who are often quite numerous) , with its bold, rocky
point on which a light is situated while the shoals are only a quar-
ter of a mile from shore on the north, to Riviere Ouelle, with its
summer pleasure grounds and hotel only ninety-two miles from
Quebec on the south bank of the St. Lawrence ; only a little below
which point, this hilly region of earthquakes bears the name of Les
Eboulements. But it is now Sunday, and the ladies have fixed their
SUNDAY ON THE SEA. 45
abodes, and with fair winds and a good run we compose ourselves
to the first real rest that we have had since leaving home eight
days before. We read and doze in the bright, warm sun like dogs,
or cats, or insects, insensible to all save the inspiration of rest and
the enjoyment of ease.
At sea on board a vessel there are two counteracting influences
at work to render Sunday — especially if it come as ours did on
the next day after setting sail — either a day of rest or a day of un-
rest. In the latter case, to one who would not attend any place of
divine worship, even were he at home and on shore, the desire to
be quiet is drowned by a deluge of worldly activity that waits and
longs for the morrow that his conscience may be easy in pursuing
his own pleasures, and so the hours pass heavily, and " the longest
day I have known for a perfect age," as it is often aptly styled, comes
to its close, with no refreshment to the mind, and thus a con-
tinued increase rather than decrease of the bodily infirmities ; since
the real health of the body is, in a certain measure and to a greater
extent than perhaps we imagine, dependent upon that refreshment
of mind, from a spiritual source. In the former case, it is differ-
ent. A day of rest means, in every sense of the word a day of
rest, mentally and spiritually, hence, more or less directly, bodily.
While many thousands enjoyed this rest in attending church at their
homes this beautiful Sabbath day, we enjoyed it in indulging our
own thoughts of rest, quiet, and all good things, while bathing in a
flood of bright, warm sunlight ; while watching the almost calm
surface of the now sun-reflecting water ; and while reading or con-
versing with each other on pleasant topics, yet in no mere sensual
manner.
Night came soon enough, and if the day had been quiet and
peaceful, the evening, with its moon full at yesternight, was much
more so. After an almost perfect day we retired to rest. The
clear sky remained throughout but part of the night and then gave
place to clouds ; the calm, warm, almost hot weather turned them
to mist, fog and then rain • the west wind to east southeast.
We awoke Monday morning with an uncomfortable feeling
46 THE NEIGHBORHOOD OF GREEN ISLAND.
of dampness all about us, of chilliness within us, and an atmos-
phere of thick, sticky saltwater —and especially St. Lawrence salt-
water noted for its nature as described — above, around, and on all
sides, enveloping the vessel and shutting out earth and sky and
water. We were in the miserable arms of a light attempt at New-
foundland fog, to us a most admirable display of those qualities so
inherent to the atmosphere about and around all parts of the
Gulf of St. Lawrence. If this was a taste of what was to come,
no wonder that they were noted the world over ; and one could
readily believe the old saying that " the inhabitants of Newfound-
land use their fog for cloth, cut it with scissors, and make shirts
and breeches of it." The vessel, of course, was obliged to anchor.
Once during the day we tried to proceed, but, unable to do so, we
anchored again, this time off Green Island, to which place several
of us went to examine the hunting, while the crew searched for
dry wood — a hard thing to find — to burn. We had passed, up to
this time, several noticeable places both on shore and in the shape
of islands close to us ; and as it is well to know the important items
of interest connected with places thus visited or passed by the tour-
ist, let us see what has escaped us. On our right, directly opposite
Mai Bay, the group of Kamouraska islands just hides the village
(with its little church, hotel, and other buildings) by the same name.
As a pleasure resort it is noted in Quebec and the neighboring
regions for its fresh, country-like appearance, as are most of
the villages on the south shore of the river, and its excellent bath-
ing. A little farther on the same side, the Pilgrims — whence the
name I cannot tell — another smaller group (five small islands),
about six miles further eastward, are quite interesting in a scientific
point of view. They are quite near the land and connected by
reefs dry at low water. Though small at best, the largest of these
islands, nearly two hundred and ninety feet high, is well wooded.
Still but a short distance farther east are the three small, steep
islands called the Brandy Pots. The most northern and largest,
being half the height of the largest of the Pilgrim group, and also
partially wooded, is often visited at the fine spring of water on its
CACOUNA. 47
southwestern extremity, which spring dries only in the warmest
weather. About and around nearly all of these islands reefs and
rocks are everywhere visible. I am not confident that we passed
through the narrows between the Pilgrims and Hare Island
Bank, but think that we did ; at any rate, when about opposite
Riviere du Loup we had Hare Island on our left. The two oblong
islands called Hare and White, the latter just east of the former and
very much smaller, with their reefs, which are quite extensive, are
about twenty miles long ; of their nature I was unable to judge. I was
much interested in spying the distant horizon of Riviere du Loup,
formerly so much frequented by the fashionable of Canada — as
well as elsewhere — a village of great attractions I am told ; while
not far from it Cacouna, hardly a hundred miles from Quebec, the
now favorite resort of the people of Canada, with its many elegant
establishments and cosey summer residences graces this part of the
coast. Many sportsmen take pleasant fishing trips and frequent
baths in the chosen resorts and not cold waters about here ; while
the temperature, they tell me, is delightful. It is not long— -not
twenty years ago — since this place was of comparatively little ac-
count and notice, with only a rocky peninsula some four hundred
feet high to commend it to the scientist, hardly the tourist. It is
now a fashionable resort.
We had hesitated for some time as to whether it were best to an-
chor where we at last did, or by Red Island just on our left, named
from the color of its soil and rocks, which is a low, flat island of
little importance, when we decided in favor of the former place.
At any rate I remembered that we were opposite the noted and far
famed Saguenay river, the largest on this part of the coast, rising
in lake St. John, about ninety miles directly west from the river's
mouth. A place of so much interest and importance needs better
words than I can give, having never even seen it, so I will copy from
another author, though it is not my purpose to give you other
peoples' adventures and descriptions as a rule.
In describing the mouth of the river, which is full of shoals and
reefs, he says : "Saguenay river has an entrance between Vaches
48 SAGUENAY RIVER.
point on the northeast, and Lark point composed of low clay cliffs
on the southwestern side, from each of which dangerous reefs pro-
ject into the St. Lawrence. These reefs leave an entrance into the
Saguenay only three-quarters of a mile wide, though nowhere less
than ten or eleven fathoms deep."
He then goes on to say, "That this extraordinary river, which was
imperfectly known until the late surveys, is as remarkable for the great
volume of water which it brings down to the St. Lawrence, as for
the enormous depth of its bed, which is fully one hundred fathoms
lower than that of the St. Lawrence. It comes from the lake St.
John, and at Chicoutimi, a trading post of the Hudson's Bay Com-
pany, which is sixty-five miles above its mouth, it becomes naviga-
ble, and six miles above which, to the rapids, the tide ascends. To
point Roches, fifty-seven miles from the St. Lawrence, and eight
miles below Chicoutimi, it is navigable for the largest ships, and up
to this part there is no danger in the river ; the shores consist of
steep precipices, some of the headlands rising more than a thou-
sand feet in height.
"The current runs down with great force, the ebb tide varying from
three to five knots according to the breadth of the river, which is
from two-thirds of a mile to two miles. Tadousac, which is on
the eastern shore, is about one and one-half miles, within the
entrance of the river, and was formerly the principal post of the
French for trading with the Indians. It now belongs to the Hud-
son's Bay Company. The harbor is abreast the settlement, and is
well sheltered :" but for the scientific value of the facts it would
be needless to add that "a heavy anchor should be cast close in
shore on account of the eddies which sometimes set into it from
the river.
"Fronting the mouth of the river there is a kind of bar upon
which are twelve, twenty, and twenty-eight fathoms, but immedi-
ately within the depth increases to above one hundred, and a little
farther up to one hundred and fifty fathoms. The current setting
strongly over the bar, meeting with the spring ebbs of the St. Law-
rence, causes breaking and whirling eddies and ripplings ; and these
THE SAGUENAY RIVER. 49
streams opposed to a heavy easterly gale cause an exceedingly high,
cross, and breaking sea in which no boat could live. On the flood
at such times, there is no more sea than in other parts of the river.
A fixed white light is exhibited from Lark islet ; the tower is a
square white building ; the light is thirty-five feet above high water,
and visible ten miles. Two range lights (fixed white) are shown
on the western side of the entrance to the river ; one eighty -two
feet above high water, on point Noir, distant one and a half miles
from Lark islet lighthouse ; the other one hundred and seventeen
feet above the sea and distant from it about six hundred yards, and
are for the purpose of leading vessels clear of Prince shoal, Bar
reef, and Vaches patch, and visible nine miles." A curious fact, be-
sides all this nautical description above quoted, appears from the
description of another writer who says : "At spring tides a large body
of water passes over the Chicoutimi shoals (at a very rapid rate du-
ring ebb tides), and falling suddenly into deep water seems to strike
downward at once, leaving but a slight current on the surface."
The Chicoutimi river enters the Saguenay about sixty-five miles from
the mouth of the latter. Further on he adds : "The strong flood
tides over the bar, at the entrance of Saguenay river, falling suddenly
into deep water, may also contribute to a certain extent to check
the strength of the surface-current of the river." A singular fact
appears that at Tadousac was built the first church in Canada. I
understand that it is still standing.
I have not forgotten that it is Monday morning, a damp, foggy
day — for which reason we find ourselves anchored near Green isl-
and, by whose reefs it is most dangerous to pass except in clear
weather ; thus it happens that we take the boat and are rowed to
the island on our first gunning expedition. We find the island low
and rocky, with occasional sand patches on the southern shore : on
the east some half a mile long, narrow rocky points, almost reefs,
are above high tide, while rocks ancl shoals are distributed quite
abundantly all around the island. Not three miles north and a
little east of Green is Apple (or Pomme as the French call it) island ;
between the two is a reef of slate rock, visible at low tide. The
4
50 BLOWING THE FOG HORN.
passage, at high tide, between these two islands, is but very shallow
at best, and not fit for vessels to go between. From a square white
tower on the northern part of the island, a fixed light, sixty feet
above the sea, and visible fourteen miles, shines by night. We heard
the half hour gun, from this same quarter, during the fog — it is
also fired during dense snowstorms — all the time we were anchored ;
and far into the night its heavy and loud boom echoed to our ears
with a dull thundering roar. Our hunting, not as successful as it
might have been, brought several species of birds to our notice, but
our wet clothes called for more attention than our birds, for the
time being, while we dried ourselves as well as we could under
the circumstances. The next morning as the fog cleared away the
clink, clink, clinkety clink, of the anchor chain, as all hands
heaved at the patent windlass, sounded merrily (it was about six
o'clock) on the otherwise quite still air, and before long we were
dashing along with a breeze that had by this time nearly cleared the
air of fog, though it was soon on us again as thick as ever ; but we
were past the dangerous shoals and in free water, so we kept on
our course, and let the thick fog come on again. Little we cared for
it although we kept the old tin fog horn, with its toot-toot-toot,
and tootety toot, going all the morning. A vessel's fog horn is an
old fashioned institution, and consists of a tin horn similar to that
used by venders of fish, yeast, and other articles of street com-
merce ; or by the noisy college student in his rows between classes
or his midnight music, of horrid notoriety, at home. The main dif-
ference is that the tin is unpainted or unvarnished, and the whole
horn shorter and less clumsy. Any one can blow it, and on this
particular morning, any one did. It lay upon the deck of the cabin,
and while it was the special duty of the man at the wheel to "tend
it," as is sometimes said, everybody that came around had his or
her turn at it. It acts as a warning to other craft that we are
around and coming, while all vessels use one in a dense fog. We
had started from Quebec with a consort, in the shape of another
vessel, supposed to be a slower sailer than ours, of similar size and
lading, bound for the same ports with us. In fact one captain
OUT-SAILED BY OUR CONSORT. 61
owned both, and was on a trading expedition down along the coast.
In the thick fog we had lost her : supposing her to be still behind us
the continued sounding of the fog horn, more often than otherwise
necessary, was to let her know where we were. Imagine our surprise
when, on the lifting of the fog for a few moments, we just saw the
vessel in the dim distance ahead, and not behind us ; she had got
ahead, and kept so, for the rest of the voyage, outsailing us ; we
could not and did not catch her at all until near our second stop-
ping place at Bonne Esperance, nearly eight hundred miles from
Quebec.
62 WEATHER — WHITE PORPOISES.
CHAPTER IV.
The weather — Beluga, borealis and other huge Animals — A Sundog —
Birds — The Rusty Blackbird — Bradore hills — Varieties of rocks —
Coast line about St. Augustine — Reaching Bonne Esperance — Old
Fort island — Eider duck — Other birds — Garden vegetables — Hay —
Raised beaches — Labrador dogs — Searching for drift-wood.
WEDNESDAY, September 22. The weather to-day was cold and
chilly, but clear ; the wind blew strong west-southwest. I made a
reckoning of both thermometer and barometer, and found that
throughout the day they ranged as follows: at 8 A. M., ther. 51,
bar. 28.45; at I2 Mv ther. 57, bar. 28.50; at 4 p. M., ther. 51,
bar. 28.57 ; and at 6 p. M., ther. 50, bar. 28.52. This is an aver-
age pleasant day in this locality. We are now about opposite
Point de Monts, and swiftly approaching the Gulf. ' With a fair
breeze the vessel flew along the water sending clouds of spray
way over the side of the prow. Although there was quite a breeze
the surface of the water a little way from the vessel was quite even.
We saw plenty of porpoises of both the black and white varieties.
The latter are very abundant in the waters of this region, and
about this part of the coast. From the river Saguenay to the west
end of Anticosti, they abound more or less frequently at all seasons
in open water. This is the Beluga borealis of Lesson, and accord-
ing to Professor Tenney, "A specimen of this animal about ten
feet long, and weighing about seven hundred pounds, was kept in
a tank in the Aquarial Gardens, Boston, for about two years.
He was quite docile, learned to recognize his keeper, and would
come and take food from his hand. He was trained to the
harness, and drew a young lady in a car prepared for the purpose."
Occasionally a large whale would be seen in the distance spouting
GRAMPUS, ETC.— A SUNDOG. 63
high columns of water, but none came very near to us. The
captain informed me that at times they did appear close by the
side of the vessel. The Grampus is also occasional here, but they
are much more abundant farther north. At one time during the
day several horse mackerel appeared by the side of the vessel,
and amused us for a time as they kept up with her, swimming
abreast and in perfect line with each other. They would dash
through the spray, appearing and disappearing with surprising
readiness ; but we soon lost sight of them. The captain told us
that about this part of the coast he was almost always followed by
a party of four or five of these huge fish. As the strength of the
wind was spent, I stood looking over the prow of the ship, watch-
ing the most perfect rainbows formed in the water by the shining
of the sun through the spray as it dashed from the sides of the ves-
sel. Occasionally I thought that I could detect a second bow be-
hind the other (ahead of it I mean) , but it might have been the
optical delusion caused by my straining my eyes by too much and
too close looking. Of course nearly everybody on board is to-day
suffering from the usual mal de mer accompanying sea voyages,
as too many know at their own cost.
Thursday the 23rd. The fine breeze of yesterday kept up all
night, and brought us a long distance on our way ; in the morning
the breeze calmed down, however, and left us a cool and balmy
though cloudy day, with only occasional glimpses of sunshine. The
captain foretells stormy weather from the appearance of a sundog
this morning. These solar appearances are supposed to be caused
by the presence in the air of minute six-sided ice crystals, which
refract and decompose the rays of light passing through them;
they are seen usually at a visual angle of 22°, and are quite fre-
quent in the polar regions of cold countries generally.
Friday the 24th. This was another such a day as yesterday.
The morning finds us not far from the island of Great Mecattina,
with a fair breeze pressing us onward. In the morning one of the
species called pigeon hawk {Hypotriorchis columbarius) flew about
the vessel several times, and at last lit upon some portion of the
54 PIGEON HAWKS — THE RUSTY BLACKBIRD.
mast. These birds are quite common here all along the coast,
and it is not at all rare to see them accompany a vessel, now
lighting upon it and now again making a short flight seaward, for a
distance of many miles. I also saw a small owl, but could not tell
the species — unless perchance it was our common Scops asio —
that acted in much the same way, alighting frequently upon the
masthead. About noon a rusty blackbird (Scolecophagus ferru-
gineus) alighted upon the deck of the vessel and remained with us
some time. As we were very near the land, and somewhat of a
fog existed at the time, he might have mistaken us for some portion
of land. I found afterwards that this bird had a summer breed-
ing range all along the coast here as far as L'Anse au Loup, at which
latter place a resident, Mr. Fred. Davis, informed me that the bird
occasionally built its nest in his woodpile — the people there are
obliged to cut enough wood at one time to last the year around ;
thus there is always more or less of a pile about in the summer
season — and his boys called it quite common there. This, I
believe, is the only species of blackbird that regularly remains so
far north to breed ; the cow and red winged blackbird, and the
purple grakle, though extending quite far north and east, being
hardly more than of occasional occurrence. The rusty blackbird,
as you remember, is generally regarded as an unsocial and retiring
bird ; here it is the reverse, and its nest is not unlike that of a small
robin with many sticks outside, and its eggs about 3 or 4, bluish
white with spots and dashes of light brown. It feeds upon seeds
of various plants and a few insects. Strange to say, they are here
frequently kept as cage birds, and their cunning, and power of
mimicry of song, something rather remarkable. I have seen it in
confinement, and found it to keep admirably. At evening we
anchored in calm water at the mouth of the large rigoulette, not
far from St. Augustine, and had the satisfaction of passing the
night, at least, in calm water : there was really some satisfaction
in sleeping off the confusion of the four previous days of rough
weather.
The coast all about these parts presents the same rocky aspect.
NATURE OF THE COAST. 55
I have visited nearly all the important harbors from Natashquan to
Blanc Sablon, and find the same general appearance in the surface
geology, and a similar rocky contour in every place thus visited.
Bold masses of rock rear themselves as hills from five to seven
hundred feet in height; except the three Bradore hills, which
are here called "the mountains," and attain the height, as marked
upon the charts, of 1264 feet for the highest, and 1135 for the
second, while the third is of nearly the same size as the second.
It is rare that the coast line itself presents, anywhere near the water,
a spot large enough upon which to build a house and have the
foundations rest upon an upraised seabeach, or any kind of earth.
Some of the houses are built on part rock and part earthy patches,
while the majority are built directly upon a rocky layer which some-
times appears within a few inches of the surface.
The rocks here present the same general character of coarse
granite or gneiss, that is formed chiefly of feldspar in great excess.
Occasionally, especially the farther down the coast one goes, the
mica is in excess, and several localities give an abundance of good
sheet mica that might almost be worked with profit were it not for
the distance that it must be transported over land, or rather over
rocks. The rock is for the most part syenitic gneiss ; that is,
hornblende takes the place of mica, and the feldspar, which is usually
orthoclase, as far as I was able to ascertain, is of both white and
flesh-colored varieties. The hornblende is of a greenish-black color,
and often present in large crystals, but so embedded in the mass of
surrounding rock, as, with the fact of its extreme brittleness, to
render it impossible or nearly so to extract them. I did not visit
the Bradore hills, but they are said to be of gneiss of this same
general character. Quartz does not seem to be abundant here.
I have several times had an elderly resident of the coast speak to
me of a "vein of marble" running through the rock not far from
his house, but upon examination had it proven, as I had previously
anticipated it to be, a vein of quite poor quartz. It is not my
purpose, however, to give here a general dissertation upon the
56 ST. AUGUSTINE AND VICINITY.
geology of this region, — that must be left to those better qualified
to do it ; a few general remarks may be of value however.
The waters about St. Augustine, as all along the coast to a
greater or less extent, are crowded with large and small islands,
that have been severed from the coast at some remote period, and
which now present narrow, winding, and more or less dangerous
passages for vessels or small boats, according to their depth. At
this point, and for a distance of some twenty or thirty miles up and
down the coast, is a most interesting and remarkable feature. It
seems as if the whole coast region had received a lateral and per-
pendicular pressure, that pressed these islands into the sea ; as if a
large number of small card blocks, placed side by side, had been
pressed from three sides so that they burst out upon the fourth.
From the mouth of the Kecarpwei river to that of Shecatica bay,
the strict coast line presents the following peculiar shape ; at point
i, we find the Kecarpwei river entering the sea
by a narrow channel between the islands ; at 2 the
St. Augustine river enters in a similar way ; and at
3 the Carkewetchepe also. At 4 is the headland
promontory of Shecatica bay upon its northeastern
side ; while from there to Bale des Roches (5) the coast is more or
less indented by small bays, and deep fiords extending in a north-
northeast by south-southwest direction. The almost square patch of
water between the St. Augustine and Carkewetchepe rivers, is filled
up with the small Main island, Large island, and Sandy, Cum-
berland, and Dukes islands in the northeast extremity, while
River island, at the mouth of the St. Augustine river, fills the
eastern end of the figure. Along the line of coast from i to 2, is
first Inner, and directly southeast, with only a small passage between,
Outer island ; while southwest of Inner is Long Island. All these
islands are separated from the land and from each other by narrow
strips of water as I have stated, and these passages receive the
name of rigoulettes (from the French word rigole, a trench or gut-
ter), and are thus called by the inhabitants. The passage between
BIRDS. 67
Inner island and the land is very small, and has received the name
of "little rigoulette ;" between Inner and Long islands is a passage
leading into the sea ; between Long island and the mainland is a
passage which really is a continuation of "little rigoulette," but there
is no passage for vessels at this extremity which lies opposite the
mouth of Kekarpwei river. I mention this as you will see that
upon our return trip we passed the opening to the sea and ascended
this narrowest part of the rigoulette nearly to the mouth of the
river, in an early foggy morning, before finding that we must retrace
our steps ; but that, with a description of the scenery, which was
something very lovely, will occur in its place. Between Inner and
Outer islands, occurs "big rigoulette," the general passage for
coasting vessels into the channel seaward, just ahead of the open-
ing of St. Augustine river and River island. As we did not remain
long at St. Augustine, and did not go ashore at this time, there
was no opportunity to examine the region carefully.
There were plenty of birds flying about in all directions over our
heads, and others swimming in the waters around us. The her-
ring gull (Larus argentatus) , and great black-backed gull (Z.
marinus}, were very abundant but very wild, especially the latter.
The eider ducks (Somateria mollissimd) were frequently to be
seen with their broods of young just ready to fly sporting in the
water all around us, or flying from point to point of land at our left,
while numerous "pigeons," or black guillemots (Uria grylle),
swam about us on both sides. We amused ourselves by firing
at these latter birds, and watching them dive almost at the flash of
the gun. We soon sailed by them all into the open water again,
where, looking over the side or prow of the vessel, the many shaped
and colored acalephs or jelly fishes lay swimming along with the lazy
flappings of their gelatinous-like disks. Although not an expert in
the subject, I am sure I detected several species here apparently
common that I have not seen in our home waters, though I may
mistake. What surprised me the most was finding these delicate
and apparently easily destroyed animals in these cold northern
waters at this time of the year in such abundance.
58 OLD FORT ISLAND.
We anchored here for the night, and in the morning continued
our journey, the destination of which was about fifty miles far-
ther down the coast.
Saturday the 25th. About n o'clock, A. M., we reached Bonne
Esperance safe. Mr. William Whiteley, who resides here, and is
the magistrate of the coast, met us and invited us to his house.
Here we met a charming English-American family, and were cor-
dially entertained by them ; but as both the people, their work, and
this place will be more fully described farther on, I will not now
linger upon its attractions. In the afternoon we took a boat to Old
Fort island, a small island, though the largest for some miles around,
and were soon being piloted through the narrow passages so dan-
gerous to those not fully acquainted with their shoals and concealed
rocks, to the latter named place. I will leave the general features
of this place, also, to be described later in a little sketch entitled :
A Labrador Home. Here I have given an outline of the general
style of living in this region, as well as a description, also, of Old
Fort island, the place where we found ourselves at about five o'clock
the same evening, and where I remained for some time studying
the general appearance of the region, and making frequent excur-
sions in various directions to examine the peculiarities of the local-
ity in which I found myself placed. It was, I assure you, quite
pleasant to be on shore once more.
Monday the 27th. This morning a party of us went out in a
boat for a short sail, taking our guns with us. The water was full
of birds, especially ducks and auks, as well as the other birds that
frequent this region in such abundance, and of which I shall speak
in other places ; while my attention was called particularly to the
"sea duck," of which we shot several from flocks that chanced to
fly near enough to us. As the sea or eider duck is one of the pe-
culiar residents of this region, a few remarks upon it, collected
from the experience of my year's observation may not be uninter-
esting, so I give them. The sea duck, as it is here called, and
by the word here I mean all along the coast from Mingan— if not
from Quebec— to Red bay, perhaps beyond the Straits of Belle Isle,
THE EIDER DUCK. 59
is the eider duck of the naturalist, and the Somateria mollissima of
the scientist. The first specimens we obtained were shot Sept. 2 7,
the above date, and were young birds. We saw a great many small
companies of birds scattered here and there about the harbor, but
they were generally, at this season, composed of old birds and their
broods of young ; the latter were now large enough to kill and are
excellent eating. In hunting these birds, especially the old ones,
one is obliged to proceed with the greatest caution. A good
sighted hunter will detect a flock or a single duck, in rough water
even, at a great distance — this is probably due to the fact that liv-
ing in a region where one must depend so much upon eyesight,
that sense is remarkably quickened — at the same time the duck
will also perceive the hunter almost as quickly as it is seen. When
the duck sees the suspicious object it reaches its neck to its full ex-
tent and takes a long, though quick sight ; if the hunter sees this
movement he knows that he is detected ; if he at once remains per-
fectly still, the duck is often outwitted, since not seeing the ob-
ject move, it supposes that it is some stone or piece of wood before
unnoticed, and continues its feeding ; should the hunter move visi-
bly ever so little, the bird takes fright and is off at once. In a clear
day a person peering cautiously over a slight eminence can see,
especially if the water be tranquil, a flock of ducks often a couple
of miles seaward. A patient hunter will then conceal himself near
some chosen feeding ground, imitate the call of the male bird, and
decoy a flock or single bird quite close and within shooting distance.
The call is whistled, and sounds like the single, double, or triple
call of a snipe, repeated several times in a sort of guttural tone, if
such an expression may be applied to a whistle ; after every few
times there is an extra low and another similar high note which
rounds off the whistle with that peculiar effect so often practised by
small boys in trying to roll the tongue, and which enters into the
call of so many of the water birds. At low and falling tide the
ducks assemble in large colonies on their feeding grounds where
the water is shallow and the kelp and muscles thick, — generally
at evening and in the early morning ; at such times they will sit
upon the rocks and remain there until urged or driven off; their
60 DUCKS SWIMMING UNDER WATER.
sight and hearing seem then to be marvellous, and the slightest
noise sends them off into the water. I have seen them in midday
thus sunning and resting themselves, but they are so watchful that
it is rare that you can get near enough for a shot at them. They
dive at the flash of the gun. I have fired at them at a rather
long gun-shot off, and seen them dive while the shot struck the
place they occupied a second previous.
An experienced hunter when on shore will get as near to a
flock or single bird as possible without alarming it, wait patiently
for it to dive, as it so often does while feeding in apparent safety,
when he will run ahead to some shelter nearer the object of his de-
sire, repeating the operation until he regards himself sufficiently
near, and then, remaining standing with his gun at his shoulder,
fire at the unconscious bird when it rises from some long dive, gen-
erally killing it. In the fall, when a brood of young ducks is sur-
prised it is quite easy to secure a large number, though the old
birds generally escape by flight and swimming under the water ;
they accomplish this latter act with ease, and often pass long dis-
tances before appearing to the surface for fresh air. In the open
water, a flock of old birds when approached will separate and swim
or fly in different directions, while the young cluster, and thus ex-
pose themselves directly to the hunter's fire. The best way to pur-
sue both young and old birds is to drive them into some angular
indenture of the surrounding islands or land, and then wait for them
to appear on the surface of the water after their long dive. The
boat stationed too far away for them to swim clear of it, the hunter
has every chance for bagging his game. I have noticed that wounded
birds do not swim far, about eighteen inches to two feet, below the
water ; both bill and head are extended forward in a straight line.
The old birds will often swim over a quarter of a mile, if not
a full half, in extent, beneath the water without appearing for air.
As far as my experience goes the birds are rather tame in the win-
ter season, or at least in the extreme late fall ; they huddle together
in close bunches of from fifty to several hundred birds, and I am
informed that an old hunter once fired into a cluster thus gathered
and bagged fifty-nine birds with a single discharge of his gun, a
BREEDING OF THE EIDER DUCK. 61
common large bore fowling piece. Occasionally old <J> birds in full
heat will be shot that have the back and wing coverts edged with
deep rusty brown, and often very deeply so ; other birds, smaller,
(young) at the same season of the year will have the feathers, par-
ticularly of the breast, edged with deep gray ; young birds gener-
ally have the top of the head darker and the neck much lighter.
In some old birds the whole plumage will be unvaried and of a dark
brown color. Large flocks are usually made up of a number of
small family broods of from five to seven birds that unite from
some common cause, and then pursue some common flight until
scattered from other causes. The usual feeding grounds of the ei-
der duck are shallow waters over a bed of seaweed or mud, at
some rods from land on its south, southwest, or west side. They
feed principally on mollusks, barnacles, and a variety of marine an-
imal life, with an occasional piece of seaweed such as may be ob-
tained in the shallow basins of accumulated debris, and on the
land-wash. In summer the ducks breed in large numbers on the
islands about the harbors, and though their numbers are fast de-
creasing there are still colonies of them, making their nests of down
from their own breasts, beneath some overhanging grassy clump,
and laying from three to five olive colored eggs. The people here
rob the nests several successive times during a season, while the
female continues to lay eggs in the hopes of securing enough to
hatch her brood. When setting, the eider duck remains upon her
nest until the very last moment, and then forced, takes a rapid flight
a short distance off, and does not appear again — at least I have
not noticed it — until the intruder has gone away. To what extent
the males assist the females in the matter of incubation I did not suc-
ceed in finding out positively, that they do so to a limited extent I
cannot doubt. They remain in the region until the last waters of
the bays freeze over, and are then seen no more until spring returns
and thaws the ice, when they appear in company with the king ei-
der (S. spectabilis}, and the Pacific eider (S. V-nigrd} — which
also are found in immense flocks, but distinct from, that is not min-
gling with, the others.
We here shot several other species of birds ; the titlark {Anthus
62 SHOOTING BIRDS.
ludovitianus) , sandpipers of the species known as the white-
rumped (Tringa bonapartet), as also the sanderling {CctUdris
arenaria), all of which were more or less abundant. As the af-
ternoon proved rainy we remained in the house and amused our-
selves as best we could until bed-time.
Tuesday the 28th. To-day we were out shooting almost all day ;
we obtained several of the species of plover known by the many
different names of blackbellied, whistling field, beetlehead, ox-eye,
bull-head, and here by the queer title of Quebec curlew : it is in
fact the Squatarola helvetica of the scientist. I found this bird in
small flocks more or less abundant all along the coast at most of the
different places visited from Quebec to Blanc Sablon. It was gen-
erally rather wild, and, wading deep into the water, fed on the small
sea animals that it could there capture. Its flight was low and
rather short. I went out before breakfast this morning to make an
attempt on the small beach birds that abounded in a cove of the
sea not far from the house, and was successful far beyond my most
sanguine expectations. The great dish prepared from these small
but delicately flavored little birds, is to fry them in their own fat.
Out of several good sized flocks I managed to procure, I think,
eighty-seven birds, which, carried home, were soon sending up
their savory odor from the frying-pan. Rain in the morning obliged
us to stay within doors. Here it rains about one-half the time ;
it is foggy and uncomfortable weather for nearly the other half, leav-
ing but a short season of sunshine, and there is seldom anything
like hot weather. If the thermometer goes up to 70° it is hot, while
the usual temperature is from 45° to 60° in summer, and as low as
often to freeze the mercury in winter. Mercury freezes at about
40° Fahrenheit.
As it came off pleasant in the afternoon we had abundant op-
portunity for walking about the island, enjoying the prospect as
well as seeing the sights. In a little corner of the yard our host
had started a small garden, but as its care depended upon his
own personal labor at the height of the fishing season, when every
spare moment was occupied in the business of the hour, or one
was indulging in rest, it had fallen rather out of use. The plants
VEGETABLES — HAY. 63
grown were of the varieties often found in similarly situated little
corner gardens, and consisted of turnips, cabbages, and potatoes.
The latter, of the species known as " Early Rose," were very small ;
while the turnips had turned out here as they do so often elsewhere
along the coast, rather small but very good. Of the cabbages, the
best that can be said of them is that they flavored an occasional
soup. Onions are rarely raised here, I saw only a few. The soil
is generally too sandy, being usually an elevated sea beach, to grow
much upon, and the vegetables suffer in consequence. The great
reason why farming is not made of more account here is the fact
that so few people have their houses where there is abundance of
soil proper for such work, and also the fact that they can purchase
quite fresh articles in the fall from the Quebec traders, at almost as
low prices as if they procured them in Quebec itself.
Many of the people along the coast keep cattle, and the family
with whom we stayed possessed two heads besides numerous goats-
The cow gave fine milk, and a good generous amount of it, as did also
the goat; the cream was thick and sweet, and the fresh butter
made twice or three times a week was really most excellent. The
cattle are fed upon a rather coarse, though sweet grass, which grows
in abundance on the level flats of the islands about. In the fall it
presents an appearance quite like that of a field of stunted grain,
since it is of a brown color and quite high, with light tassels hang-
ing drooping downward and stirred with every breath of wind. Sev-
eral species are very common and combined from excellent hay :
with Poa pratensis, we find both Hierochloa borealis, and Elymus
mollis, though the first mentioned one is without all doubt the most
excellent grass or hay here for the cattle. The majority of the
low grass grows in thick matted clumps, this is undoubtedly because
it is not cut sufficiently often to produce a large and thinner variety ;
it is much like our "rowen," however, and seems to answer nicely for
the cows. In the summer there is plenty of first class feed, and good
pasturage anywhere. The cattle are let out to graze at will ; when
evening comes they are sought after among the dells and vales of the
neighboring region and driven home. It is often no slight job to
64 RAISED BEACHES — LABRADOR DOGS.
find them when they have strayed for several miles over hillocks,
across plains and open stretches of meadows that lead to a success-
ion of elevations and depressions, when perchance they have
rounded on their tracks and are quietly grazing not far from the
house in some entirely opposite direction from that in which they
started out. Strange to say the grass comes up here quite early in
the spring, and is grown some length before even the snow has be-
come melted, so that there is good grazing even in early spring.
A curious fact remains to be spoken of : in digging in the gar-
den I was informed that at the distance of about three feet under
ground the sand contained abundance of shells similar to those now
growing alive on the beach a few rods away, and which belong, I be-
lieve, to the species Mytilus edulis; a little further front, along the
same sand ridge, nearer the shore, — or land- wash as the expression
is here, — these same shells appear on the surface, or at least so very
near the surface, that comparing the several lines of demarcation
there would seem to be a fair amount of evidence that either there
had been a gradual subsidence of the waters about this part of the
coast, or that the land had gradually risen, allowing the sea to heap
up a succession of beaches over which the sand had been blown
from above until they had been covered, as they are at present, and
overgrown with vegetation.
It seems not unlikely that one or the other of these actions has
taken place. In several different places along the island, and in sev-
eral of the islands, there appears to be this same peculiar sand struc-
ture overlying what were apparently once old beaches of the sea.
A few words only here, about the dogs of Labrador. Upon our
first stepping on shore we were met by a troop of about fifteen dogs.
These dogs are of mongrel breed between the Esquimaux, the New-
foundland, and the various species imported here from other regions.
They are used to draw the sledges in the winter, and are as valuable
to the inhabitants as horses are to us, yet a worse set of snarling,
barking, and generally fierce and also unhospitable animals, it would
be hard to find. They feed on blubber and any food that they can
obtain in the winter, which has been previously banished from the
BLACK-TAILED GODWIT. 65
odds and ends of what can be made no use of in the house ;
while in summer they are never fed, but allowed to roam at will and
find what they can along shore and around the island ; they fight
incessantly, while, unlike our dogs, should one get undermost, the
rest will turn upon him and worry him to death. The people are
thus frequently obliged to arise even in the middle of the night to
save the lives of their animals, or their numbers would rapidly
decrease. They are by far too valuable animals to lose so easily.
Wednesday the 2pth. Another rainy day has prevented our doing
much outside of the house, and we must be contented to remain
within doors. I have been struck with the very unusually large
amount of bread that is used all along the coast. It is in reality
"the staff of life," in these parts at least. It is raised with a yeast
made from the spruce. The fine tender twigs of the young plant
are taken, and being boiled in water made into a regular spruce
beer. The beer will keep fresh about a week in summer time, and
nearly all winter. When fresh it is an excellent drink and much
used here in place of water, which, poor at best, is usually taken
from ponds, and rarely from springs or running water ; these ponds
are the result of the melting of large bodies of snow that drain into
the low mud flats, often with rocky bottoms, which abound every-
where, high and low : a fair evidence that successive elevations
were at one time much nearer the sea-level than they are at pres-
ent. When a moderate amount of this beer is mixed with a cup
of molasses it forms a yeast-like substance, or raising mixture, which
fully equals our ordinary raising compounds. The beer itself has
a peculiarly bitter taste, from lack of any article in the boiling to
counteract the natural taste of the spruce ; it makes a very palata-
ble drink, however.
Thursday the 3Oth. To-day I succeeded in obtaining a specimen
of the Limosa hudsonica, the hudsonian or black-tailed godwit,
also called the ring-tailed marlin. It is a rare bird, even in these
regions. It was the only one I obtained on the coast. It was at the
time flying rather high up in the air, and with the irregular flight of
the spotted sandpiper. Its note, uttered while in the air, sounded
5
66 SEARCHING FOR DRIFT-WOOD.
more like the squeak of a mouse than anything else I can name.
From its rarity I give the dimensions as I took them. Length from
end of bill to tail 16 inches ; end of bill to toes 18.50 ; extent 28 ;
wing 8.75; tail 3.25; bill 3.25; unfeathered tibia 1.13; tarsus
2.50 ; hind toe and claw .50 ; middle toe and claw 1.65. It was a
£ and had the gizzard full of gravel and nearly digested matter.
The people tell me that it is occasionally seen in fall, but that it is
rare. Audubon speaks of it as "rare along the Atlantic district
in spring and autumn. Breeds in the barren grounds of the Arctic
seas in great numbers." It seems to be confined to the more mid-
dle interior parts of the Arctic regions, and the majority of writers
whose works I have seen speak of it, as I have generally found it,
as rare along the Eastern Atlantic and Gulf coast generally.
Friday, Oct. i . To-day has been occupied in procuring firewood.
A number of the men who live upon the island started off with
their boats for a tour along the shore after drift-wood. The wood
collects in the coves everywhere about the islands as well as the
bays of the mainland, and is eagerly sought after by the people
who, in many cases, are obliged to go a considerable distance other-
wise for their supply ; it is brought in boat-loads to the shore close
by the house, the wet material spread out to dry in the sun, while
the remainder is sawed or chopped up for immediate use. In this
way any old wreck or pieces of vessels that have floated ashore are
soon spied out and secured ; limbs and branches of trees, as well
as boards that have fallen off from vessels and floated ashore are all
serviceable, for if clogged with wet they will generally soon dry
when exposed to the sun away from the water. Old boats are also
found occasionally ; all this apparent old rubbish is of value, and
shows that very little is lost in the economy practised on these
shores.
Saturday the 2nd. To-day we visited Bonne Esperance and
passed the day with Mr. and Mrs. Whiteley in a very pleasant
manner. As the locality presents some very interesting features of
surroundings, as well as some attractions in itself, it may be well to
give a general description of the place.
BONNE ESPERANCE. 67
CHAPTER V.
Bonne Esperance — Esquimaux river and island — Caribou island — Entering
Bonne Esperance harbor — Vessels in the harbor — Their nationality —
Activity of place — Religious character of people — Chapel and Mission
house — Residence of Mr. Whiteley, magistrate — Nescopies — Store
and shop provisions — Money — Trade — A trading story.
BONNE ESPERANCE, or Good Hope as it would be called in Eng-
lish from a simple translation of the words from the French, is a
small island lying off the Labrador coast about opposite the mouth
of Esquimaux river, and a little to the right of it, in very near lat-
itude 51° 24' north, and longitude 57° 39' west. It is quite a small
island, and lies within a few miles only of the mainland, with sev-
eral other islands all somewhat smaller than itself around it,
principally between it and the shore. About three miles on the
northwest, Esquimaux island nearly fills the mouth of the Esquimaux
river, and is the largest of the small islands on this part of the
coast. This was undoubtedly one of the chief seats of the Indian
and Esquimaux, as well also as of the French and Indian wars.
A large number of graves were supposed formerly to exist on the
island, while an occasional one is still to be found there, though it
is of course impossible to say as to their origin ; both Indians and
Esquimaux were undoubtedly buried in large numbers on this very
island, if we can believe the records.
On the northeast of Bonne Esperance is Caribou island. This
is another large island, thus making Bonne Esperance the third
in size of the small group here situated. If we count Old Fort
island, which also is larger, we find Bonne Esperance, the fourth
and next largest of all the islands within a radius of some twelve
miles that contain perhaps fifty islands large and small, and as
68 HOW TO ENTER BONNE HARBOR.
many rocky knobs or crests rising above the water, arranged in a
most singular manner to form broken and winding channels which
are navigable with the greatest of caution, and then only by those
who have gradually become accustomed to their intricacies. There
are two ways of reaching Bonne Esperance by vessel : one is to
take the channel inside the islands, the other to reach the harbor
from the outside; the latter is easy while the former is quite
difficult. Very small islands lie about the harbors on this part of
the coast in such profusion as well as confusion, that the channels
formed present a most intricate network of passable and nonpassa-
ble openings. Right here, about Bonne Esperance, occur many
such places. Clustered as the islands and shoals are one can
hardly pass them in safety unless well acquainted with them.
Many of these passages, apparently safe to the sight, contain
sunken ledges or single rocks that render them unsafe for large ves-
sels ; while many places, whose narrowness and dark looking waters
would repel one, are the very passages chosen from their depth,
with fair wind, through which to glide. Strange as it may appear, a
wide and fair opening of water between these islets is an almost in-
variable sign of shallow water. Vessels can enter Bonne harbor
by keeping close to the mainland following carefully the evident
channel, keeping to the right between two small islands and fol-
lowing the narrow passage between them, and bearing directly to
the left again running straight for the stage houses then in sight ;
but the safer way is to enter from outside, as it is called, that is, — if
sailing in sight of the islands, but at a distance out to sea, — continue
until the white beacon of Whale island comes in sight, steer for this
and when it is directly northwest (all these points are magnetic
points, which here differ by 36° 45' west of apparent points ; that
is, apparent north on the chart is 36° 45' east of true north),
sailing in a north or north by west direction, until the fish houses
are seen between the two small islands at either hand, when the pilot
can steer directly for them. The harbor of Bonne Esperance is
a neat sort of natural bay situated between the shores of the
opposing islands. Either shore retreats in a semicircle, so that the
THE FISHING FLEET.
inclosure forms an oblong semicircle of water ; the outlet to this
natural bay is a narrow strait in which the water is only nine feet
deep at high tide. Of necessity, only small crafts, such as the nu-
merous fishing vessels here abundant from Newfoundland, United
States, and other localities, can pass this opening. On the other
side is a similar bay, formed by the retreating sides of the other
part of each island, from which it is easy to gain the open water
again.
In this harbor it is no uncommon sight to see a hundred ves-
sels of all kinds and descriptions at anchor. Of these the majority
are from different harbors in Newfoundland, while of the others
many are from the Magdalen islands, and some from Nova Scotia ;
numerous French crafts and a few American are also occasionally
seen.
It is a pretty sight, I assure you, to see this out-of-the-world
region so thoroughly alive and stirring, as it is in the summer,
with all these small vessels from different parts of the world congre-
gated here, often by hundreds, filling the bay from head to entrance ;
while others remain outside flitting about from place to place as
occasion may require, all engaged in the same pursuit of fishing.
The following partial list of the localities with the number of ves-
sels sent out from each in 1878 will give you a glimpse of the
business of the season. Halifax, 8 ; Quebec, 4 ; Newburyport, 2 ;
Britain (Ang.), 2 ; Gaspe, i ; Boston, i ; Nova Scotia, 21 ; New-
foundland, 13 ; total, 52. These are but a small part of the num-
ber that were actually seen in Bonne Esperance harbor during
the summer of 1878; but these were registered as dealing more
or less directly in fish, and most of them remaining more or less
of the season in or near that locality. Bonne Esperance and
Salmon Bay, the latter being an establishment owned by New-
foundland parties, and situated about two miles away, are the
largest fisheries this side of Blanc Sablon on the northeast, or Nat-
ashquan on the west ; the former locality is only about twenty miles
away while the latter is some three hundred. It is a great sight for
the simple inhabitants dwelling near these fisheries when the vessels
70 CHAPEL AND MISSION HOUSE.
come in the spring and begin their work. The long winter is past,
the bays at last open, and the vessels soon begin to arrive. Most of
the inhabitants are very quick of observation. Let them see a
vessel once and know her name, they will, unless great alterations
have been made, tell her again under almost any circumstances.
As the vessels anchor one by one in Bonne harbor, the people
assemble from the neighborhood around and the island becomes a
scene of gayety and life. Of course it is gayety in a sort of prim-
itive sense ; but then the people think much of it, especially as it
affords them so much enjoyment the coming winter in rehearsing
at their firesides what they have seen and heard.
I will not now mention the religious character of the people, or
the service as conducted in the little chapel on the top of the
hill ; but will only say that it is a most pleasing opportunity to visit
one of these native, evening church services ; to see forty or fifty of
the native people gathered together, and with them the transient
strangers from France, England, the United States, and all the
places from which vessels sent out to the fisheries have come, from
the various crafts in the harbor ; to hear all join in song ; and lis-
ten to English, French, and American as they lead in their hearty,
heartfelt prayer. It is a good work that is done by the little mission
there established and God bless them in their work.
Below the chapel, under the hill, lies the "Mission House," as
it is called. Here reside several missionary ladies or gentlemen,
sometimes both, who have given themselves to the work of attending
to the spiritual wants of these poor people. It is here that the Rev.
Samuel R. Butler, of Northampton, Mass., and before him several
others, spent so much of their time while on the coast. Here, in
summer, the children attended regular day school, but to which,
owing to the distance at which everybody lives, few come ; here
also they come to Sunday school, which is usually well attended,
since the people are free to go and come as they choose from
their business on that day and they do so in preference to re-
maining at home. Not far from the Mission is the residence of
Mr. W. H. Whiteley, who, as I have said, is the Magistrate for
MR. WHITELEY'S ESTABLISHMENT. 71
Canada for this part of the coast. Mr. Whiteley's house is really
a fine one for this section of the country. It is a good sized, two-
storied affair, much longer than broad, as is the custom with arctic
and sub-arctic houses, and very warmly built. Its white paint at-
tracts one from the outside, while a cosey fire and a cup of hot tea
are always handy within. Mrs. Whiteley is quite ready to welcome
a "new comer," and the hearty, rosy children are as delighted to
find a stranger to take notice of them as can be imagined. The
sitting and dining room are combined ; a large, square, or rather
oblong, stove heats the room, and there are plenty of chairs, stools,
benches, and an easy lounge ready for occupancy at any time. I
shall not soon forget the cosey times I have had in that same room
with the assembled family ; and the games and plays with which
long winter evenings have been whiled away. The many pleasant
faces almost recall me there as I write, and the hope of some
day meeting them again is present with me.
Outside of the house the contour of the island is rather peculiar ;
though if not strange to an inhabitant it is at least so to a visitor.
The whole island is one mass of granite rock overlaid here and
there with scanty vegetation. There are two principal crests of
about sixty-five, and eighty feet in height above the sea-level ;
their rocky summits are crowned, as is usual with nearly all such
elevations about the coast, with a pile of stones several feet in height
which serve as landmarks : they are called Nescopies : the sailors
call them the "American Men."
The other buildings upon the island are a small store and shop ;
here are kept a variety of articles of hardware, groceries, and dry
goods, as well as a general assortment of articles of clothing, boots
and shoes, hats, caps, and oilskin suits — the latter of which are
so much used among the men. The assortment of nicknacks
of one kind or another is always more or less limited, and confined
to a few of the many useful articles of dress and use rather than of
the kind to tempt the coppers of the mamma and papa, as is so cus-
tomary in the United States and other parts of the world. It is
rather a store of necessity than one of choice and amusement.
72 MERCHANDISE.
The room is a small one, and the various articles are piled in heaps in
comers, and about the sides and middle of the room, for want of
space. This is the regular trading port for the region around. If
any article of commerce is wanted it is obtained here if anywhere
on the coast : a ban-el of flour or salt pork ; a box or bag of bis-
cuit as they are called, or more properly hardtack or hard crack-
erSj — and as a rule they merit their name since the majority of
them require long soaking in water before they are soft enough for
use, to be fried, broiled, or eaten at all, and I have often seen
them so tough that the repeated blows of a hatchet-back would
barely suffice to break them ; meal, of which varieties that com-
monly called oatmeal, is much used, while Indian meal is regarded
by the majority as only fit to give the dogs, to whom it is fed scalded,
though the poorer class are frequently obliged to mix it with their
flour if not use it altogether pure ; butter, salted down in tubs or
firkins, and lard, both of an inferior quality ; sugar and molasses,
the latter of which is the chief source of the sweetenings used on
the coast. A strange custom prevailing here is that of sweetening,
with molasses the tea or coffee, though very little of the latter is
ever used so far northeast, tea being a popular and more healthy
drink, and the true, native Labradorians invariably take the mo-
lasses pot, even where the sugar is equally as easy of access, and
use its contents where we should use the sugar. Besides provisions,
nails, hatchets, axes, and tools of various descriptions — usually con-
fined to planes, saws, chisels, and screw-drivers — are always on
hand ; large cross-cut saws can be purchased of the traders, as can
other articles wanted if known and ordered beforehand. A few
yards of any of the cheap patterns of dress wear, trimmings, gloves,
stockings, underwear, coarse materials for overalls, and in fact a little
of anything that long experience has shown to be in constant use,
will usually be found somewhere in the promiscuous heap of ma-
terials stored in this room ; while it would consume a chapter in
itself to enumerate the variety of articles here accumulated. -It
is a great day when several of the inhabitants living say ten or fif-
teen miles up or down the coast come to the store to purchase
MONEY. 73
their monthly supply of necessities. It takes a long while for them
to settle upon what they want, and they pick out the articles they
wish with the eagerness and apparent pleasure of a small child.
Nearly every article has to be handed over a number of times before
the one desired can be settled upon, and when it is very likely it will
be exchanged for something more pleasing to the eye. Finally, the
exchange is arranged and the parties start for home with their pur-
chases. The general medium of exchange all through this region is
trade. Money is seldom used, and its value still less seldom
known. Both the English and the Canadian, as well as some United
States money find their way into the Labrador markets. The Prov-
inces have each a money of their own, and nearly every piece has a
discount upon its real value. The general mode of reckoning is in
English pence, shillings, and pounds. A pound being twenty shil-
lings or four dollars (as it is in the majority if not all the Canadian
provinces), the shilling is twenty cents or twelve pence ; the Eng-
lish sovereign is taken for four dollars and eighty-four or eighty-six
cents, and consists of twenty-four shillings twopence, or threepence
half-penny ; it is only in the Newfoundland province, northeast of
Blanc Sablon, or Labrador proper, that the English gold brings its
full value of twenty-five shillings. To complicate matters still more
both the English shilling of twenty-five cents, and the Canadian
twenty cent piece are freely used and equally abundant. New-
foundland silver is used as are all the other provincial pieces for
their full value. American silver is occasional, and usually heavily
discounted, while American gold is, I believe, the only gold taken
for full face value and without discount. In American money the
Canadian fifty cent piece is worth forty- eight cents, the twenty-five
cent piece twenty-four cents, the twenty cent nineteen cents, the ten
cent nine cents, and the five cent four cents ; on the other hand a
half-pence (pronounced ha'pence) is generally two-thirds of a cent
or one cent, a two-pence (pronounced tuppence) three cents,
a three-pence (thrippence) five cents, a (four-pence (fopence)
seven cents, six-pence ten cents, nine-pence fifteen cents, twelve-
74 THE MEDIUM OF EXCHANGE.
pence the same as a shilling of twenty cents, and fifteen and eight-
teen-pence twenty-five and thirty pence : thus our quarter is in Lab-
rador fifteen pence (not counting the discount which is usually
five cents), our twenty cent piece nine-pence (with a discount also
of five cents), our ten cents six-pence (discount of only one cent) ;
our five cent pieces are often taken for their full value. The three
cent piece is not used or recognized, and the fifty cent piece has a
discount of from five to ten cents according to location. The
Newfoundland Bank note of one pound, or four dollars, is always
looked at twice before it is taken, sometimes with and sometimes
without discount. It takes six large coppers to be worth a five
cent piece.
In trading, it is customary to employ the usual productions of the
country as a medium of exchange. Although it would be as im-
possible to make out a table of exchange as a full table of money
equivalents for the coast, a few of the more important may be
stated. Codfish at thirteen to eighteen shillings a quintal, herring
seven six-pence to ten shillings a barrel, cod oil two to two and six-
pence a gallon ; seal skins dressed seven and six-pence to fifteen
shillings according to the species of seal, undressed five to seven
and six-pence, rarely ten shillings apiece ; seal oil two shillings a
gallon. Besides this, people living near rivers sell wood for twen-
ty-five cents a load of ten long sticks, about forty feet long and
eight inches through at the butts. Old iron picked up from wrecks
is worth half a cent a pound, and everything useful has its price.
Nearly all the trading on the coast is done on the credit system,
and it is usually expected beforehand that half the people would not
pay their bills if they could, and many of them never intend to,
while still another portion are dependent entirely upon the catch of
the next season, having, by former delinquencies, overrun their
accounts, so that they are obliged to get credit in advance of the
season upon that season's catch. No wonder the majority are poor,
and kept so not by the. power of the richer class, but rather by
their own indolence in not profiting when an opportunity offers to
A TRADING STORY. 75
make a little money. Most of them consider it best to let well
enough alone, and having earned sufficient to support them through
the winter, the rest looks after itself, while the time is then passed
in "chatting" and smoking.
A curious story is told which shows how some are really
incapable of keeping a perfectly understood account of their own
money. A certain trader offered for a piece of valuable fur forty-
five dollars in American money ; the native thought the exchange
over for some time and finally shook his head and said that he
could not sell for less than ten pounds cash. Now ten pounds you
remember is forty dollars, or five dollars less than the original offer.
The wily trader in turn shook his head as if in hesitancy, but fi-
nally said that he would accept the offer, while the native went off
chuckling, if I may use the word, that he had made the trader
come up to his price.
76 RASPBERRIES — STORM WEATHER.
CHAPTER VI.
Raspberries — Weather — Hudsonian Chickadee and other birds — Black-fly
— Topography of country — Old Fort bay, physical features and sur-
roundings — Superstitions concerning the raven.
SUNDAY, Oct. 3. To-day some of the people in the house
brought in a few raspberries picked near the house, but whether
they were of the species known as the dwarf raspberry (Rubus
triflorus}, or the wild red raspberry (R. strigosus}, I could not quite
tell as I did not analyze them ; the berries were quite dry and unfit
to eat. Neither of the species is rare along the coast anywhere,
and it might have been either or both of these. A quiet walk about
the island, which is about a mile and a half in diameter and four in
circumference, occupied us a good portion of the morning, while
in the afternoon the cool breezes found us enjoying ourselves out-
side the house in the shade on the lawn.
Monday the 4th. After a stormy, windy night, the weather
continued rough and rainy all day. The wind increasing raised
great billows upon the surface of the water, these increasing in
height and fury dashed with incredible force against the rocky
heights so numerous in the outer waters about the island. Huge
waves would hurl themselves against the rocky exposures, and
flooding them, pour down the opposite sides in broad sheets of
water ; or again they would break into showers of spray that would
spread themselves in crowns, wreaths, and haloes of magnificence
that would rival the most elegant artificial production, and put to
shame the most wonderful of ancient or modern fountain work.
Looking from the right from our door, a long line of low reefy
POWERFUL EYESIGHT. 77
islands stretched across our view, ending in a rising knoll at the left ;
over this I saw a continued display of hydraulic pyrotechnics that
would have delighted the most fastidious with its magnificence of
display. The waves dashing upon the upright side of the cliff sent
spray high in the air over the hilly part of the island, while long
lines of billows broke into foam all along the narrow stretch of
beach. Several displays of lesser importance were seen in other
directions, but none equalled this one. All through the day the
sight continued, and only closed with the night.
With all this cold, wet rain, the thermometer has been averaging
about 50°, varying from 46° in the morning to 54° in the even-
ing. In spite of the weather some of the party went out and
shot a couple of ducks. In hunting these birds, which were eiders,
one has to proceed with the greatest caution. A good hunter will
detect a single duck or a flock of ducks, even in rough water,
at an immense distance. I have often been surprised at being told
that there was a flock in a certain direction, when I could see
nothing at all in that direction. Some five or eight minutes after-
wards I would think that I had discovered a flock some ways yet
in the distance, and upon giving notice to that effect would receive
the reply, "why, have you just seen them ? that's the flock we're
after, the same I pointed out to you ten minutes ago." When
people live so much by their eyesight, it is not hard to see how
that sense can become so acutely developed as it is in so many of
the people on the coast. I think I have mentioned before that
men will recognize a vessel that they have once seen years after,
and at an immense distance away. They will tell a boat, and
the people who are in it, before one unaccustomed can distin-
guish that there are any people at all in it. This results, I think,
partly from what one might almost call "reasoning from analogy,"
though no doubt eyesight has a great deal to do with it.
Wednesday the 6th. This is still another foggy day, and the sun
made us but a short visit this morning. I shot a couple of shel-
drakes, shellbirds as they call them : we had them for dinner and
found them very tender and delicious. They were young birds,
78 HUDSONIAN CHICKADEE.
and of the smaller of the two species of Mergus, of which the
females are so nearly alike, and the one known as serrator, the red
breasted Merganser, so common in these parts ; I found here the
savanna sparrow (Passerculus savanna) abundant and breeding
and also saw numbers of that familiar little hero of the north, the
Hudsonian chickadee (Parus hudsonicus) , so very abundant here.
As this is a peculiarly characteristic bird of this region, a few words
may be said of it. I found the Hudsonian titmouse residing all
the year around both on the islands and on the mainland where-
ever I went during my stay on the coast, and their cheerful presence
has dee-dee-dee'ed away the blues more than once. I first met
them at Old Fort island in the summer, when they would frequently
come and perch on the roof of the house, and occasionally fly in
at the door and pick up crumbs from the floor. They were very
tame, and would allow you even to catch them without much
opposition on their part. The people of the coast are very fond
of them, and will not allow a stranger to hurt one of them if they can
possibly help it. While flying they will often dart about from place
to place, or if it be in the air in one direction or another, with a
quick, whirring sort of flight which reminded one more of the
operation of quickly half opening one of our closed fans and imme-
diately shutting it again. They fly only a short distance except when
rather high in the air when their smallness soon aids them in escap-
ing detection as they fly ; at such times their flight is swift. When
on the island their favorite resting place was the roof of the house,
and we would often see several perched near each other on the
ridge-pole, where they would remain a long time or until frightened
away. Low, stunted fir growths about the island almost always
contained several of these birds, who would play at a veritable hide
and seek among the dense clumps of fir and spruce everywhere
abundant. If any one pretended to watch them they would hide,
and not even chirping remain for nearly half an hour quite still,
or if stirring at all doing so so cautiously as not to attract the least
attention, while often I would walk about quietly trying my best to
get a sight at them and yet unable to do so. At other times the
WHITE-CROWNED SPARROW. 79
case would be exactly reversed, and I have found them in the
bushes on the mainland near by, and spent much time in sitting
down and quietly waiting while the little fellows, at first frightened
by my presence, afterwards gained confidence and crowded around
the bushes close to my feet, my hands, and my face ; they
did not, as a certain author once remarked of the black-capped
chickadee, alight on the tip of my boots and peer at me, but they
did peer at me from bushes within a few feet of my face, and certainly
within reach of my hand had I grasped for them, — though I
should undoubtedly have missed them had I attempted it. After
remaining about for some time they would fly away, only to light
on some bush near, or return again, to examine more fully the
mysterious object which had attracted their attention ; then they
wquld chatter away to themselves as if comparing notes. If finally
I raised my hand or my head they would dart off to some covert
and disappear as if by magic. This chickadee is often the only bird
that may be seen in the woody portion of the "lake regions," where
in the heat of the day it is active and full of song, even in the
summer. The darker the woods, or the more tangled the under-
brush, the better these birds seem to like it. It is here the counter-
part of our native black-capped titmouse (Parus atricapillus) .
That latter bird did not appear here during the year to my knowl-
edge, although it is given by Reeks, in his list of Newfoundland
birds, as common and breeding. The Hudsonian titmouse breeds
all up and down the coast, but it usually prefers the interior and
tangled undergrowth district, which is quite difficult of access.
The ordinary note of this titmouse adds a very pretty and pleasing
lisp to the dee, dee, dee notes which it so frequently utters, and
which our bird usually delivers so plainly and clearly.
I also saw several white crowned sparrows (Zonotrichia albicollis} ,
and though they were not remarkably tame I afterwards found them
in large numbers breeding in the low evergreen shrubbery about
the island. They have a pretty song, and are otherwise attractive
companions, but I will say more of them farther on.
Thursday the 7th. Most of the day was spent in rambling about
80 SANDPIPERS — SAVANA SPARROW.
with my gun, and several species of birds rewarded my search which
will be spoken of in their place, but my attention was especially
drawn to the small flocks of the ruddy plover or sanderling ( Calidris
arenaria), which were occasionally seen alone or with large flocks
of other shore birds. I saw numbers of them during my stay on
the island, but seldom many at a time. They are very wild and
hard to approach, and keep quite close together in small flocks of
from ten to thirty ; their flight is wilder and their call different from
that of the other birds with which they associated. I found them
very plump and fat, and they make very nice eating.
Friday the 8th. I saw to-day several very interesting species of
birds, and while we are on the subject I will give you a brief
account of the savanna sparrow {Passerculus savanna}, and the
white ramped sandpiper ( Tringa bonapartei) . The savanna spar-
row is perhaps the most abundant of all the small land birds that
inhabit these regions. It is a tame and familiar little fellow, and
feeds without fear about the doorsteps, and in the dooryard,
building its nest, laying its eggs, and rearing its young often in
grassy clumps not two rods from the door. They are common all
over the islands and on the mainland, and their song is a well
known attraction to a native of the place. I shot a good many and
found them to present an unusually decided shade of plumage,
with the dark and white colors plainly marked. There was very
little yellow about the head and eye, and of some twenty specimens
none at all on the wing shoulders. I shot, one day, four of these
birds, none of which had a particle of yellow upon them anywhere
that I could distinguish ; a small tuft of white feathers at the base
of the primary coverts of the shoulder gave the appearance of a
white edging in the place of the usual yellow. The birds were all
remarkably full in coloration, and decided in plumage ; the white
very clear ; the dark inverted arrowpoints quite distinct, as were also
the grayish and buff edgings everywhere. One specimen alone
had the buffy suffusion covering the breast. I cannot say that the
rule holds good constantly, but in some thirty specimens the $
had the yellow on the wing shoulder, while the 9 and young of
WHITE-RUMPED SANDPIPER. . 81
the year of either sex had white in that place. It is everywhere
abundant, and breeds on the ground.
Of the white-rumped sandpiper I saw several immense flocks on
the flats near the house ; they were quite tame, and I shot a great
many of them. Some had the chestnut edgings of the wings very
broad and deep, while several of them had either the head or neck,
and one had both, quite ashy ; the greater part of them had very
little chestnut, that color being replaced by ashy; the chestnut
edgings seemed to be on birds that were passing from the last
stage of young of the year to adult birds, but I may mistake ;
both varieties were in the same flock — flocks were usually of from
fifteen to one or two hundred in number. They would alight in
the mud flats, and feed, running about in the black, slimy, clay-like
mud or muck, running in the water nearly to the tibia and keeping
quite close together meanwhile ; they feed in the evening and at
dusk chiefly among the kelp along shore, and I rarely saw even a
single bird at high tide. They were very tame, and if I crouched
and approached them on nearly their own level, I could get very
close indeed. If discovered, single birds, as often small flocks,
would remain perfectly quiet for some time. It was very difficult to
see them as long as they remained still, since their color corres-
ponded so closely to that of the mud or kelp where they happened
to be. I have often at dusk had them fly from within a yard of my
feet when after careful examination I had not supposed there were
any near me. I saw these birds associate only with Calidris
arenaria ; the birds did not mix, but each kept in its own separate
flock. An occasional Ereunetes pusillus was seen, but they were
rare. Sometimes a single bird would be seen flying high and swiftly
in the air, but generally their flight was low and irregular, their
note uttered as two or three faint, shrill whistles, the same as when
running about in search of food ; they take wing on the approach
of danger. Large flocks are made up of the union of a large
number of single families. Most of the specimens obtained at
this season of the year had a worn and faded look, and were not
nearly as plump or as well plumaged as specimens that I shot later,
6
82 BLACK-FLY.
with bright chestnut edgings to nearly all the upper feathers. One
of these specimens had the head and neck nearly clear ash, of a
very minute pattern. I often found specimens where the tail feathers
were half black, and the other half white. I suspect that Tringa
bairdii, that rare sandpiper, bears a stronger relation to certain
forms perhaps of adult worn breeding plumage of 71 bonapartei
than is generally credited.
We were much gratified, this evening, by a fine double rainbow,
of most beautiful color ; both bows were well defined against a clear
bank of cloud in the east.
Sunday the loth. I saw what was either a large white hawk or owl
perched on a stone near the top of a small hill by the house, but he
soon flew away. We passed a delightful day out of doors. The
weather was fine, and the lateness of the season protected us against
the fury of that most pestiferous creature of these northern regions,
the much dreaded black-fly. This insect, the Simulium molestum
of the entomologist, is one of those rara avis that the naturalist
lights upon occasionally much to his own personal inconvenience.
It is an abundant native of all these northern regions, more especially
inland, during the summer months ; and of its development little
is known. They fill the air during the months of July, August,
and September, especially inland, making the country almost unin-
habitable. They swarm on a still day in millions, and nothing but
a breeze of wind will rid the air of their presence. They light on
any part of the face that is incautiously exposed, and bite it most
terribly until the blood runs. Their favorite places of attack are be-
hind the ear and on the neck. This fly attacks the children even
more savagely than it does the grown people. I have seen a child's
face all bitten and swollen, while the poor thing spent most of
the time crying and rubbing the inflamed portions, which only served
to make the case worse. With adults the bite soon disappears.
The account given of this insect by Harris, in his " Insects In-
jurious to Vegetation" is not accurate, for this portion of the coun-
try at least. I have found it more or less common from the
beginning to the end of summer. Prof. Packard says of it, "Its
REMEDIES. 83
antennae are eleven- jointed ; the palpi are four- jointed, with long, fine
terminal joints, and the ocelli are wanting, while the posterior tibia
and first joint of the hind tarsi are dilated. The body is short and
thick. The labrum is free, sharp as a dagger ; and the proboscis is
well developed and draws blood profusely." Harris says, "The
wings are transparent ; and their legs are short, and have a broad
whitish ring around them." I have verified these statements, but
not the following, again quoting from Prof. Packard, who says it
" lives during the larval stage in the water. The larva of a Labra-
dor species which we found is about a quarter of an inch long, and
with the appearance here indicated.1 The pupa is also aquatic,
having long respiratory filaments attached to each side of the front
of the thorax. According to Westwood ' the posterior part of its
body is enclosed in a semi-oval membranous cocoon, which is at first
formed by the larva, the anterior part of which is eaten away before
changing to the pupa, so as to be open in front. The imago is pro-
duced beneath the surface of the water, its fine silky covering serving
to repel the action of the water.' " Although they are undoubtedly
blown by the wind to great distances, the fact of their being reared in
fresh water — by fresh I mean not salt sea water, yet I imagine they
prefer stagnant pools — accounts, perhaps, for such large numbers
being found on the mainland, and so few on the islands outside,
where the continued breezes from the sea carry them away as fast as
they appear. If it were not for these tormenting little insects, explo-
ration into the interior would be a comparatively easy thing. As it is,
veils of mosquito netting do no good, for the fly is scarcely one-
eighth of an inch long and would pass through the meshes at once ;
handkerchiefs are used with little better success, for they will creep
into the smallest openings and beneath the loose folds. A mixture
is now made and sold, consisting largely of dilute carbolic acid
and sweet oil, which, when applied to the face and hands, keeps
these insects at a distance, for a time at least. The best and
only sure remedy is to keep wholly away from them.
1 See fig. 69, Packard's " Our Common Insects," p. 73.
84 HORNED LARK.
Monday the i ith. This morning I shot several specimens of the
horned lark (Eremophila alpestris), and noted the extent of the
pinkish color on the wing coverts, rump, and neck usual in spring
specimens in the high eastern regions. My long stay upon the coast
made me quite familiar with this beautiful songster, and characteris-
tic bird of the region, which is abundant all along the north shores
of the St. Lawrence from Quebec northward. At Green Island in
the river St. Lawrence, I found the lark quite common ; at that
time it was rather tame, and could be seen on the low flats of the
island hopping about and feeding in close company with the sand-
pipers ; they were all single birds and not flocks. I saw them all
the fall at Old Fort island, both alone and in large flocks, and al-
ways more or less wild. I would often see them flying very high in
the air, and uttering their peculiar querulous whistling notes ; some-
times flying quite low and somewhat irregularly, but uttering their
notes at all times while on the wing. Though common everywhere,
they seemed to lead a sort of wild, solitary life that comported
well with the wild, solitary region in which they dwelt ; they pre-
ferred the plains, fields, and rocky knolls away from houses where
they would hop about in twos or threes, or small flocks, picking up
their food ; occasionally they would perch on the tops of knolls as
if to reconnoitre, then retire and go to feeding again as if satisfied
that no enemy was near ; they are very quick and active in their
movements, and always wild rather than tame. I saw them often
on the shore, and feeding on the kelp in company with the white
rumped sandpiper, but never mingling with them as far as I could
see. As their brown color corresponds so well with the color of
the ground, it was often hard to detect them until a few shrill whis-
tles and a hurried flight announced their flushing a short distance
ahead. Several that I shot were remarkable for the amount of pink
upon them. At times large flocks fly over the island high up in the
air, while one of these flocks once alighted upon the island : their
extreme wildness was something remarkable. One can hardly say
enough of this most charming little fellow and beautiful songster.
It breeds here abundantly, and the only time I saw it tame was at,
RUBY-CROWNED WREN. 85
and immediately following, the breeding season. The nest is
placed on the ground, and the eggs, usually four in number, white
peppered with ashy in a close pattern. It enlivens the long days
with a fresh, and what we would call really remarkable "clean cut"
song that, heard at early morning or in the evening, would induce
one to believe the bird almost inspired.
Often on a clear, crisp morning I have seen the lark ascend
by a series of spirals to an immense height : then, remaining on al-
most stationary wing, carol forth such a thrilling warble that it
seemed more like the chant of a spirit than the song of a bird.
In the afternoon I shot perhaps the most cunning bird known
about these regions where it is probably never common, the ruby
crowned wren (Regulus calendulus) . It was flitting about in a small
clump of bushes when I first saw it and it me. I was then obliged to
wait around for over half an hour before I could again catch sight of
and shoot it. It will cunningly crawl or flit from place to place, and
it is a mere question of who will continue this game of hide-and-seek
the longest, as to whether the bird escapes or is finally obtained.
One cannot but enjoy these rambles about a "new region ;" at
least a region about which so little is known as this. There is a
charm of novelty of situation, and to one busy hunting the delight-
ful natural objects with which he is surrounded, the charm is height-
ened. I was often reminded, especially on the water, of the enthu-
siasm and joy with which Audubon must have viewed these abodes
of the water-fowl when entering this new field of ornithology for
the first time. How a botanist would have revelled in the new
plants that would greet his eye ! and there remain many yet that
have not been identified ; while I often think of the field for some
enthusiastic collector of lichens, fungi, and mosses. The insect
fauna of the region likewise needs studying up, and an expedition
into the interior, like one through Newfoundland, would develop
most interesting results.
Tuesday the i2th. We took a trip inland this afternoon, and I
could not help admiring the beautiful bay which bears the name of
the island at its mouth, and which receives that name from being
OLD FORT BAY.
the supposed seat of the old French and Indian wars traditional
to this locality. Old Fort bay is really a most beautiful piece of
nature's fancy work. Just outside its mouth a large expanse of
water is surrounded on all sides by islands, between which narrow
channels, in many cases too small and shallow for the passage of
vessels, connect with the sea. Old Fort island, the largest here,
except Esquimaux island, as it is the largest on the coast for miles
around, is in a line with the mouth of the bay. The open water I
have mentioned is relieved by a single rock prominent at high tide
even ; all about is deep and safe water in which vessels may anchor.
As you enter the bay, the hilly character, at least of this part of
the coast, attracts your attention at once. The hills between three
and five hundred feet high at the left send their wooded or precip-
itous slopes down to the sea, while the highland extends far back
in series of crests. At the extreme end of this left hand promon-
tory, and midway between the front face of the hill, stands the
dark mouth of a sort of cave or natural hollow among the rocks,
within which tradition stores treasures inestimable, guarded by
apparitions most hideous and terrible ; below it a grassy slope
extends slanting towards the sea ; above it on the right, the crest
of one of the hills forms a good outlook to the whole surrounding
region.
It is here that many affirm was the last standing place of a fort or
battery which the settlers inside the bay (and the ruins of whose
houses at a late date, though nothing now remains, were plainly
seen,) were credited as having erected for the better defence of
their abodes. The theory that the battery would be raised in such
a place is very probable, and it would be quite likely that a battery
would be placed outside the harbor rather than within it. I men-
tion this as there are some persons who believe the fort to have
been within the bay on the top of a long glacial ridge, which if it
were not known to be of nature's own formation, would strike a
stranger, especially one not examining the height personally, as
being the most likely place for such a fort.
Inside, on the right hand, the elevations are low, seldom over
TOPOGRAPHY OF COUNTRY. 87
one hundred feet in height. The country here extends back, like
that of the other side in a series of elevations. The basin of the
bay is like that of a fiord valley, and extends directly inward for a
short distance, then bends in an almost easterly direction. From
east to south the land is low, while from north to west and south
the hills are often six hundred feet high, and a more or less level
piece of country extends back in a west direction for a consider-
able distance. Towards the north the country is broken, as it is
all along, though not to so great an extent as in this direction, into
ponds and even in one instance a large lake. Labrador is known to
be a region of lakes in its interior. Perhaps it is more so than many
imagine. In some cases large lakes cover quite an area of coun-
try. They appear in such cases to be the resultant drainage of an
innumerable number of ponds, large and small. Thus these ponds
are ranged in areas of equal height, the highest ones being the
smallest, while next will come an extent of country that contains
several larger ones, and so on, each draining into the larger below
and all finally into one lake. The general idea is that of a huge
natural amphitheatre wherein the seats are tablelands extending
back for several miles, so that the top layer or seat consists of several
isolated and high peaks whose connecting medium is a marshy bog
with small puddles of rain and occasionally springs of water ; about
fifty feet lower an area of country extends inward, towards the cen-
tral pit of the amphitheatre, which contains several medium sized
ponds with a drainage from the pools above, and with innumer-
able tiny rills flowing into them, and receiving more or less drainage
from within its own districts. Below this still another series of
ponds, much larger, receive drainage from the waters above, and
empty themselves below either into another series or, uniting in
some large pond, receive all this drainage and flow onward and
forward, through valleys and rocky gorges, with precipices and
rocky cliffs on either side, miles into the country. After some
distance this again will unite with another large pond which
receives a similar drainage from some other direction ; thus, the
whole country presents an appearance most unusually grand and
88 "HEIGHT OF LAND."
wild, fit region only for the Indian and trapper, where the otter,
beaver, and martin form the staple productions, and the flesh
of deer and bear the staple consumption.
About two hundred miles from the sea the "Height of Land,"
as it is called, presents itself as a series of high hills, and really a
part of that great chain of mountains which one strikes directly
north from Quebec and which follow the country across the Labra-
dor peninsula to above Cape Charles on the eastern part of the
coast.
As this series of hills runs along the country at varying distances
of from two to five hundred miles from the coast, the intervening
region consists of a descending series of elevations, until directly
on the coast line itself it assumes a height of from three to seven
hundred feet. The "Height of Land," often contains hills from
1000 to 2000 feet in height, and while few are over that, Mt. Bache
was found by the U. S. Coast Survey to be some 2160 feet high.
According to Packard, " Its watershed " (that of Labrador) " is
said by Kohlmeister and Knoch, to be a chain of high mountains
which terminate in the lofty peaks of syenite at Aulezavic island and
Cape Chudleigh, which are the highest mountains in Labrador, and
rise probably over 3000 feet in height."
The river system of the peninsula is restricted to one or two
principal rivers ; while the stream system is ample, nearly every small
bay having for its head a body of running water — and the numerous
streamlets all along the coast fully support the view that there is
an abundance of water inland. Let us return, now, to our descrip-
tion of Old Fort bay, and having chosen this, of the many similar
places along the coast, see what beauties it possesses and what nat-
ural attractions it yields.
The outline of Old Fort bay, is, as I have said, a row of hills
three to five hundred feet in height on the left, and another and
smaller series of elevations scarce one hundred feet upon the right
of the entrance of the bay. Directly across the ridge to the right,
which is in fact a much twisted, contorted, and irregularly cut up pe-
ninsula, lies the western arm of Esquimaux river, whose mouth you
OLD FORT BAY. 89
remember is so nearly occupied at this point with Esquimaux island,
that the passage between it and the mainland on the east is barely
large enough for small boats. The bay extends directly inward about
a mile, then takes a sudden turn to the right for about the same dis-
tance, giving to the whole the shape of a bent arm. Strange to say,
no stream of any size enters this large bay. A small brook only,
made up of the drainage of the neighboring hills, flows into it.
To give you an idea of the extent to which the country is cut up by
ponds, let me say that the distance between the end of the bay and
the Mission station, situated several miles up the river, near the
contraction in the stream just below the first rapids, is only five
miles ; yet there are three ways of going between the two places,
and each time a line of three distinct ponds is traversed, and with
the exception of one pond which is the first and same crossed
on two of the routes, no pond is traversed twice ; between all
of these are elevations varying often from two to three hundred feet
in height, though generally less than one hundred. The whole
country is similarly cut up into elevations and depressions whose
basins contain a pond, the accumulation of the drainage surround-
ing it.
A single stream enters the bay from the centre of the left hand
side of the entrance ; it comes from a line of ponds extending
backward into the country, and I am informed that one of them is
an excellent trout pond. The most interesting point in all the bay,
the elbow as we will call it, remains to be spoken of. If we describe
it as having the appearance of two semicircles placed side by side
s-^,~^ and with an island just off the joint, we shall present a very
fair picture of the location. The larger of these curved
pieces is the elbow proper. The left hand (the larger) is a sandy
strip of beach with high cliffs about it, and a sloping ridge whose
summit is a straight line of nearly a quarter of a mile in length
above it. This elevation slopes gradually to the sea. Above, it
presents the appearance of an artificial fortification lying between
two high peaks, one at the left and the other at the right. The
top of this ridge, nearly level for some thirty or forty rods, falls
90 BACK OF THE BAY.
gently to a pond beyond. The pond lies about 225 feet above
the sea level, while the top of the ridge is about 275 feet, thus
making a difference of level between the two of fifty feet. The
slope of the bank in front is some thirty degrees. It is evident
that an immense glacier, receiving arms it may be from several
quarters of the country in the interior, made its stand here,
and thence crept down into the sea polishing off this ridge, and
scooping out the basin of this part of the bay. It is along the
bank of the eastern part of this cove that the old colonists chose
their abode, and fixed their huts. At a late day foundations of
these were still standing, and I have been informed that there are
those now living who have dug up old copper coins, and relics
of various other kinds about this same place. No signs of either
relics or foundations are now to be found, although the most
careful search has been made all about these regions. The second
circular division of this beach presents a totally different aspect
from that just described. Its central point is a mass of rocks, and
rocks continue in greater or less profusion all along to the end
of the bay, though especially abundant right in this particular place.
There is a raised bank or platform, about one-quarter of a mile
long, and thirty or forty rods deep, through which flows a small
stream which has evidently eaten its way to and gradually sunk
within a few feet above high tide, while the bank itself is scarcely
twenty feet above the sea. Back of this are the hills, from three to
four hundred feet high. Close on the rocky shore the kind people,
who so cordially entertained us at Old Fort island, have their
"winter quarters," while another family occupies the other side of
the point. The little island opposite the house is one huge mass
of rock, covered with scanty vegetation.
A remarkable formation exists just east of the house. You can
pass by the large rock at the left of the building only at low tide,
when you come to a sand cove and sand bar, the latter bare at
high tide, that connects with another rocky mass, which, extending
towards the sea, corresponds in its nature to the island above
mentioned ; all around is rock and mud, yet this little strip of sand
ARTIFICIAL POND. 91
is prominent and peculiar in its situation. The sea washes close
up to it upon either side but does not cover it. A little way back
is seen the slope of the embankment terrace and between the two
the remains of a most curious structure. Here is represented the
last remaining traces of the old colony, in the shape probably, of a
concealed dock for boats and small vessels. It is an artificial pond,
and, covered from all observation until this part of the bay is reached,
its presence would never be expected unless looked for. A slight
sand bank in that corner of the bay had so shut off this inlet that
at low tide a natural basin of water was separated by this same sand
bank from the water of the bay. This basin shows signs of being
enlarged, deepened, and has an embankment around it the walls
of which are kept in place by huge stones ; these one can plainly see
have been worked and built up around it. The stones are carefully
arranged so that the bases are downward and the pointed or smallest
end uppermost, while the interspaces are filled up with smaller stones
and earth : the whole top is earthed over and covered around with
a layer of large flat stones. This appears to preclude the possibility
of the whole affair being a production of nature. Sheltered as it is,
it would make an excellent hiding place or repairing place for
small boats, which could easily make way over the bar at high water.
Another peculiarity, however, presents itself; there is, at low tide, a
drainage from the small basin into the sea through this sand bank.
Were there now no inlet to this small pond, as in fact there
is, it would be drained twice a day while the tide was low, since
it is very shallow at best. Advantage has been taken of this fact,
apparently. A short passage has been made from the northeast
side so that the brook, which I mentioned before as flowing in a
channel through the embankment beyond, is somewhat slightly
diverted so as to run into the basin. Now the fresh waters of this
brook, running in at all times with a stream of several times the
volume as the outflow at low tide, are continually freshening the
waters in the basin, until before low tide is reached you have an ar-
tificial pond of clear, fresh water with sandy bottom and suitable
for the cattle who come to its banks regularly to drink, and even
92 LONG-TAILED DUCK.
the family supply is easily obtained quite pure enough for family
purposes. The pond would therefore supply a large number both
of cattle and of families. Though I have seen no evidence either
for or against the theory that the early colonists had cattle with them,
it seems to me at least very probable that such were, as I have sug-
gested, the intentions of the people in making this peculiar structure.
I will not now speak at length of the curious superstition of some
of the people whom I have seen, that this structure in some way con-
ceals large pots of gold left by the French, but will leave this and
other superstitions of a like nature for some other time and place, if
indeed they are worth mentioning at all.
Though there is little or no beach, properly speaking, the land
slopes down quite close to the sea in one or two places ; these have
been chosen for building spots and houses erected accordingly.
Back of the houses all is a dense mass of low, tangled spruce and
fir, extending on and over the hills some distance into the interior.
I must here yield to a natural desire and describe to you two
new species of birds which were procured here. The first, the
Canada or tree sparrow (Spizella monticola) which is rare except
in its migrations, apparently; the second, the long tailed duck
(Harelda glacialis}. The latter bird is called the "coc-cau-ivee"
from the sound made by the males which resembles the pronunci-
ation of these words. Another name for the birds is that of
" hounds." The female resembles the female of another bird called
the dipper or buffle head, sometimes the butter ball and spirit
duck, but which is here called "sleepy diver," from the slowness of
its movements in the water. The marked difference between the
two is the absence of white on the wing of the long tailed duck ;
whether the young birds of the two species are distinguishable or
not I could not ascertain. The people here cannot tell you which
is the sleepy diver, as they call it, and which the female of the long
tailed duck, or even distinguish the young, but call them all indis-
criminately sleepy divers. It will never do for a stranger to tell
them they are wrong ; they think that you are the one wrong in all
cases, and you cannot possibly convince them that a stranger can
BIRDS. 93
learn any more of any object connected with the region than the
people of that region.
Wednesday the i3th. I shot a bird to-day that has a most peculiar
name in the vocabulary of the natives ; it is called by them the
Nan-cary, pronounced as if spelt nan-sary; it is in fact the greater
yellow legs (Tetanus melanoleucus) , and is more or less common
in the late fall either singly or in small flocks along the beach with
the small sandpipers and plovers.
Thursday the i4th. It seems as if I did little else but describe
birds ; but as there are more of these than of any other animals in
the place, and as I have attempted to follow the outlines of my
journal, I hope that in doing so I shall not render tedious a sub-
ject delightful in itself, but for which others may not care so much,
while the omission of which would disarrange what I regard as
the natural order of a series of articles of this kind. I will then
tell you of still another new and somewhat rare species of bird,
captured to-day, called the Lapland longspur (Plectrophanes lap-
ponicus) . The development of the hind claw of this bird is some-
thing remarkable, often reaching three-fourths of an inch or over.
It is found either alone or in company with the immense flocks of
snow buntings so common at the approach and departure of win-
ter. The bird was feeding at dusk near the kelp on the shore and
with several others probably of the same kind, — their flight and
notes were like those of the shore lark so common here. It was
rather wild, and was either a female or young bird. Though having
seen the bird several times to my certain knowledge, I only suc-
ceeded in shooting a single specimen.
The wind has blown pretty hard all day. It seems no unusual
thing for a wind storm to set in and last several days here, while
often the wind blows with such force that it is dangerous to at-
tempt any sort of navigation. Strange to say an Indian canoe
("cranky" as it is generally regarded) will "ride " with apparent
safety where any other boat would be swamped in an instant.
Though the wind was not really severe, this afternoon, we had
hard work to manage. the boat to and from Old Fort bay, where we
94 RAVEN.
went to take a load of articles to be transferred to "winter quar-
ters." The cold weather is rapidly coming on, and we must be
prepared for it by moving into our winter home before very long.
It is a desolate looking region, I assure you, but we will try and
make things as comfortable as we can for all that. We have had
several ravens hovering about the fish stage to-day ; the people seem
to regard them as birds of ill omen, and say that they are in league
with the devil. You can rarely get any of the natives to shoot
at one of these birds no matter how near they come, and they
seem positively afraid of the results of so doing, fearing that it will
bring them misfortune for the remainder of the year. The bird
is really a very difficult one to shoot. I have often lain in wait
for it with my gun, firing at it when both at rest -and on the wing,
at a very short distance off, and had it raise its huge black wings
and fly slowly off with a harsh and hollow croak as much as if
to defy both me and my gun. I have wasted more extra large
ducking charges at the raven than almost any other bird, and have
seen the least results. The bird itself is very common everywhere,
summer and winter; breeding on the high cliffs and hill tops,
and remaining about wherever there was any putrid flesh. It ap-
parently loves to walk or fly about on the tops of the hilly crests
on the mainland, and on the trees near the frozen bays in winter.
It frequents the seacoast, and is common about the inland ponds
and lakes. It replaces the crow, which rarely though occasion-
ally is found in these regions. The scientific name for the raven
is Corvus corax.
Friday the i5th. I became quite well acquainted to-day with
the pigeon, as it is here called, otherwise known as the black guil-
lemot (Uria grylle). This little bird is one of the most abundant
of the waterfowl next to the eider ducks and Murres, that we
have upon the coast. Near St. Augustine we saw this bird for the
first time though it is found all along the Atlantic coast, as far south
as New Jersey, growing more and more rare as it approaches the
latter place where it was found in winter. I have seen them
everywhere in the waters in and about the islands, though never
PIGEON " GUILLEMOT. 95
very far from land, from the opening of the bay in the spring until
the ice closes the last open waters early in December. I have
found several stages of plumage (referable to the ages) of this bird
which takes three years to mature. A very extraordinary form
marks the second year's growth. The whole plumage is inky
black both below and above, and with white blotches imperfectly
rounded, the size of an ordinary thimble head, scattered irregularly
all over it above and below ; the bill is blackish carmine, the legs
and feet dusky carmine. The wings with a pure white patch as
usual. I think the white tail coverts were present, but am not
sure on this point. I cannot learn that this plumage appears at
any other time than in the fall of the year ; they are rare here, and
apparently pass this stage in some wild place or region where they
are not easily detected. The hunters about the coast told me that
they were rare.
In the early fall the pigeon is quite tame, but grows wilder as
the cold weather advances. When pursuing them from a boat
they are at times easy to approach while at others difficult and very
wild without any apparent reason. It will usually dive " at the flash,"
but often when feeding it allows you to come quite near. In feed-
ing, the bird bends its neck forward and dips its beak into the wa-
ter ; at this time, when the head is turned forward and a little away
from the hunter, he is generally sure of hitting his game. Often
the pigeon takes wing nearly as soon as it perceives a boat ap-
proaching, and it is then impossible to get anywhere within shoot-
ing distance of it; the flight is then rapid but easy, generally
low and straight. When tame it usually escapes by diving " at the
flash " and swimming a great distance under water, easily and in
any direction. When wounded, they often dive, and, I think after
the manner of many ducks, swim to the bottom and clinging to
the seaweed die there. I have often watched them dive thus, but
have not seen them arise. They stay around near the land feed-
ing, on still warm days, often many together. In flying low over
the water, if fired at I have often seen them suddenly drop down
and dive, disappearing almost instantly. The flesh, especially of
96 MOVING TO " WINTER QUARTERS."
the young birds, is excellent eating and they are shot in great
numbers ; it is called the hardest bird to kill, next to a loon, that
inhabits the waters of the coast.
The pigeon breeds in large numbers on several of the small isl-
ands along the coast. On one small island colonies of this bird
breed exclusively. They lay usually three eggs in some exposed
situation or in the cleft of some rock, making no nest, and let
the sun do the greatest share of the hatching ; they are oblong
and ovoid in shape, tapering suddenly, the ground color being
from greenish to pure white, and the varied streaks and blotches
or spots scattered more or less thickly all over their surface, es-
pecially so in a ring around the top of the egg, are of black, or vari-
ous shades of brown. Nearly all the birds of this family have what
are apparently purplish spots, but these are black primarily and
appear purple only from a slight covering of the white lime of the
shell itself.
The weather had now become so moderated that the next few
days were employed in "moving in," that is, in transferring the
household goods and utensils together with the people and live
stock into their abode for the long, coming winter. The house was
much like the one we were about to leave, but rather more com-
pact and a great deal warmer.
With the exception of a species of short-eared owl, peculiar to
the region, no particularly new birds had been obtained. Though
owls are generally regarded as rare in this region, I believe them
more common than usually supposed, several of the brown colored
species having been observed. In regard to the one mentioned,
it was shot by one of the men who said that about dusk the bird
attacked him and he could not drive it away until he had put the
whole charge of shot through its body, and so badly blown it to
pieces that I was unable to do anything with it but save a few
feathers by which to determine the species. It appears to be an ex-
traordinarily dark variety of our common short-eared owl (Brachy-
otus palustris} .
INDIAN TENTS. 97
CHAPTER VII.
Indian tents — New fields for research — Visit to the Indians — Seals' flesh
— Dogskin boots — Cattle food in hard winters — Coptis Irifolia — Spruce
Partridge — Inland — Hypothesis of Aurora — Little Auk — Signs of
wreck — Ascent of the western arm of the bay — Wreck of the Edward
Cardwell — Picking up lumber — First snowstorm of the winter.
WE had hardly entered the bay before we saw in the distance
the mishwaps of the Indians, who had chosen this for their camp-
ing place. The Indian mishwap, or tent, is a peculiarly arranged
structure, and suited only to the wants of the people who oc-
cupy it ; being the usual, movable dwelling place of this nomadic
and roving people. It is generally called by the name of wigwam,
and is the same, very nearly, as the tent-like structures that go by
that name in western North America. It is composed of long,
thin, rounded sticks that have been hardened by charring in the
fire, and which are set about in a circle whose ground diameter
is some ten feet ; the tops loosely put together overlap each other
a foot or eighteen inches. Around this are layers of birch bark,
and over the bark more sticks are placed so as to fall each one be-
tween the other two all around the outside. All holes are then
patched and covered ; while the top remains loosely open to allow
the smoke and bad odors to escape. A small opening in front
permits the inhabitants to enter or leave by stooping very low in-
deed. The peculiarity about these abodes, and the feature that
characterizes them even when seen at a distance, is the plume-like
appearance of the top, as it is thus constituted. I know of no
mere piling together of sticks that will produce this peculiar ar-
rangement. By it, these tents can be distinguished as far as they
7
FIORD VALLEYS.
can be seen. That the structure may not be visible a great dis-
tance, it is generally placed behind some protecting ledge or rise
of rocks, though not always.
From the entrance of the bay then, as I have said, we caught a
view of the Indian mishwaps, backed by the verdure of slopes,
hills, ravines, ridges, and the various contour of a most uneven
background in the profile of the evergreen spruce tops, — which low
shrub is everywhere abundant outside as is the large tree inland.
On either hand a succession of hilly crests marked the boundary
of the bay, whose inner arm or bend extended far to the right.
Passing beyond the little island just off the central point, we came
in full view of the house, with its line of rocky and sandy beach
running around on either side ; here we were soon seated by a
roaring and crackling fire of good spruce wood.
Old Fort bay has much the general shape and direction of
so many of the bays in this vicinity, so often termed "fiord val-
leys-" They are long, narrow, for the most part shallow passages,
between the rocks running a little north of east, and evidently of
glacial origin. These little bays are quite abundant all up and
down the coast, and undoubtedly would, at least to one well versed
in such readings, describe a long and ancient story of glacial phe-
nomena and local disturbances. The whole glacial question will
finally, without doubt, obtain abundance of fresh, new, and useful
evidence by a careful study of this region, and it is a wonder
that no one has examined with a greater degree of care the whole
Labrador peninsula. Here is a vast, and untried field for explo-
ration. The North Pole is undoubtedly the ultimate end of re-
search in this direction, but I venture to affirm that no one will be
successful in that end until they have made a careful land explora-
tion of this keystone to polar investigation, the Labrador Penin-
sula—from seacoast inward to the "height of land," and thence
followed its great streams and leading trends of northward high-
lands. The greatest wonder is that as yet we have no definite
knowledge of this new and unexplored field. But to return : —
After a good supper we went to visit the Indians and Joe Mark,
INDIAN DOGSKIN BOOTS.
the sub-chief of this division of the tribe. We found him, to
speak plainly, in a state of beastly intoxication. He had come out
to sell his furs, and having received sufficient to supply his demands
for food he had used the surplus for drink, and that a little too
freely, judging from the effects wrought upon his mind and body.
He was lying down when we entered, but he managed to place
himself in a half sitting and half lying attitude and carry on a con-
versation with a great deal of "talk-um" on our part and consider-
able muttering on his. We saw how matters stood, and soon came
away and returned home ; not, however, until we had obtained
part of a young seal, that some one of the Indians had recently
killed, and which we broiled on a spider for our breakfast the next
morning. Let me say here, that the flesh of a young seal, when
well cooked, resembles cow's liver so nearly that one can hardly
tell the difference ; and I believe that if I could place a dish of
each before a stranger in Labrador who had tasted neither for a
long series of months he would be unable to tell accurately which
was which, so nearly do they resemble each other. We also ob-
tained some dried deer's meat, which is soaked and fried, or eaten
dry, and is very good.
Monday the 25th. I put on, to-day, my first pair of Indian,
dogskin boots. They are made like long legged moccasins, the
foot part being made of sealskin (the top only of dogskin), and
the sole being soft and pliable, and as sensitive as a glove upon the
hand. The foot is therefore free to move in most any direction,
and thus useful especially in climbing, where one is obliged to
grasp and cling by the clinch of the toes. It is quite trying how-
ever, to walk for the first few times on stony or pebbly ground, as
the little comers injure the feet most terribly until they become
hardened and accustomed to the peculiar feeling of having the
bottom of the boot soft and flexible instead of hard and stiff; but
one soon gets used to the change and then enjoys the freedom of
feeling with the foot.
Wednesday the 2 yth. I attempted a sort of exploration of the
country back of the hills, close behind the house, but found noth-
100 GOLD THREAD.
ing but ponds and high hills, so that with a great deal of climb-
ing and going around to get a very short distance only, I was
obliged to return at dark having accomplished very little.
I made a curious discovery this evening. On returning home
from one of these short daily trips I noticed a large pile of heavy
brush lying over against the side of the stable door (why I had not
seen it before I cannot tell) , and upon inquiry found that it was
the remains of the birch and alder tops with which the cattle had
been fed the previous spring. It seems that, at this time of the
year, when fodder is scarce, the cattle are fed with the slender,
tender tops of these trees, and they are eaten with avidity and
apparent relish.
About this time I discovered the plant Coptis trifolia, or golden
thread, from the little, slender golden thread of a root which it
possesses. It grows in abundance in these regions and farther
west, and is plucked and sent to market in large quantities. It is
a mild tonic and treated with hot water is taken with impunity.
One day, early this week, one of the men brought in a spruce
partridge (Tetrao Canadensis}, which he had killed in the woods.
These birds are usually very tame. They fly from cover and alight
in some bush, seemingly stupefied from being flushed, while I have
often known the young fellows to knock them over with sticks or
the ends of their gun barrels, without even taking the trouble to
waste powder and shot upon them. One day towards the close of
the week we amused ourselves by digging a species of clam (ques-
tionably Mya arenaria), which is found in the mud at low tide just
here, in abundance. They were excellent eating, and made a very
good soup. Strange to say, though they appear to be abundant
here, the people seem to care very little for them, and seldom dig
them.
Friday, November the 2d. Although this morning I climbed the
ridge back of the house, and over and about the place that many
of the people suppose to have been the location of the old times
fortification and fort, but which appears upon examination to pre-
sent few facts to confirm such an opinion ; and though I also went
ELEVATED SCENERY. 101
over all the nearer peaks on this side of the first pond which is
just over the ridge, I am in as much of a maze, apparently, as I
was before, as to their exact position and extent. From the top
of the successive elevations I could see pond after pond, and
ridges and gullies after ridges and gullies, stretching onward and
outward in every direction. A fair description of the country
around here would be a series of ridges composed of crests of
unequal height divided both lengthwise and crosswise by gullies,
with basins of water filling the intervening spaces or valleys. The
whole region is one grand network of ponds and hills. I had no
instruments with me for the purpose, and if I had possessed them,
am no map drawer. As has been before stated, a comparison of
several readings of the barometer gives the height of the external
ridge as 275 feet above the level of the sea to which it slopes easily
and naturally. The pond beyond this ridge presents a lowering of
fifty feet, while beyond this other ponds are situated correspond-
ingly lower, the large pond or lake being lower yet. The hills on
the left are most of them on a nearly average height — the two
highest being each 600 feet above the sea level, and all the other
prominent ones nearly an even 500.
If I mistake not, evidences of glacial and water action are locally
very abundant, while loose bowlders and stones are scattered spar-
ingly all along the top crests even, and small pools of water are
abundant here and there on the highland levels four to five hun-
dred feet above the sea. Here the soil is a black muck or mud,
and reminds one greatly of some mucky patch of salt marsh along
our eastern United States, exposed a few feet only at highest tide,
and transported to some shallow basin between two or three sur-
rounding peaks of similar height. In one instance, I found a large
pond only one hundred feet from the top of the highest peaks
which surrounded it. The gulches were frequent and full of
streams, in some of which, especially in deep, shady gullies, were
remarkably sweet and cold waters. All these places are overgrown
with low, dwarf spruce and fir, or birch and alder. In one place
a small stream started from near the top of a high peak. There
102 AURORA.
was no chance for mere surface drainage, and there must either
have been some secret spring or sort of artesian well pressure,
forcing the water thus to appear on the very top of a rocky crest.
The rock around seemed to be a coarse granite, with occasionally
a place where several feet had been apparently scraped off and
ground to a fine powder of sand and small pieces of rock, of
feldspar principally, scattered all along over the surface of the
underlying rock. Occasionally, veins of feldspar or quartz appear ;
the latter mineral is rarely found in a pure state on this coast. All
the exposed rock appeared thus more or less scraped about here,
while occasionally the patch extended down the slope of the hill
one-third or even one-half the way to the bottom. There are
also many small rounded cones or knolls, whose top is one mass of
rough sand, with the rock only a few inches beneath. Another cu-
rious fact is that the beaches of most of the ponds have a portion at
least of their extent of this same material, the rocks in place lying
a little way from the edge only; the rest of the beach is often of
a fine pulverized quartz and feldspar sand, totally different from
material of the neighboring rocks. Fine beds of clear, nearly straw
colored sand are not uncommon.
Wednesday, the 3d. We were fortunate in observing a most
beautiful aurora this evening. The barometer indicated 29.00, and
the thermometer 30° Fahrenheit. The sky was perfectly free from
clouds, and the air crisp. It first appeared in the east, then in the
north. The primary appearance was, as is frequent in such cases,
a semicircular band of light. In this case small pencils of light
floated about in the air. Very soon a thick, heavy band of several
longitudinal scroll-like narrower bands appeared ; the whole, resem-
bling very much a long ribbon, extended itself across the horizon
from these points, and apparently very low down in the atmosphere.
The whole band was in rapid undulating motion from the north
towards the east, and resembled the progressive onward motion of
a huge serpent. The appearance was quite striking and very
pretty. The band was extraordinarily dense, and very bright. At
first its edges were very clean cut and well-defined ; gradually
PROCTOR ON THE AURORA. 103
the light extended itself to the northeast, while the eastern end
enlarging and travelling faster than the northern, the mass soon
presented a singular and nearly circular appearance in the north-
east ; ten minutes after this massing together of the light the whole
disappeared, and the sky was entirely overcast with a light, thin,
luminous curtain of this mysterious, electrical, vaporous substance.
I saw many very pretty auroras while here, but none surpassed the
one just described. I found some of the inhabitants of this region
singularly superstitious regarding this aurora, in that they fully
believed that it danced to the sound of any musical instrument.
It was solemnly declared to me that if I should blow the flute, or
play upon the violin, the cloud would descend and dance in the
air just above me and out of reach. On the subject of this
curious phenomenon, Mr. Richard A. Proctor says : —
" One of the most mysterious and beautiful of Nature's manifes-
tations promises soon to disclose its secret. The brilliant stream-
ers of colored light which wave at certain seasons over the heavens
have long since been recognized as among the most singular and
impressive of all the phenomena which the skies present to our
view. There is something surpassingly beautiful in the appearance
of the thin "Auroral curtain." Fringed with colored streamers it
waves to and fro as though shaken by some unseen hand. Then
from end to end there passes a succession of undulations, the folds of
the curtain interwrapping and forming a series of graceful curves.
Suddenly, and as by magic, there succeeds a perfect stillness, as
though the unseen power which had been displaying the varied
beauties of the auroral curtain were resting for a moment. But
even while the motion of the curtain is stilled we see its light mys-
teriously waxing and waning. Then as we gaze, fresh waves of
disturbance traverse the magic canopy. Startling coruscations add
splendor to the scene, while the nobler span of the auroral arch
from which the waving curtain seems to depend gives a grandeur
to the spectacle which no words can adequately describe. Grad-
ually, however, the celestial fires which have illuminated the gor-
geous arch seem to die out. The luminous zone breaks up. The
104 STRANGE HYPOTHESIS.
scene of the display becomes covered with scattered streaks and
patches of ashen-gray light, which hang like clouds over the north-
ern heavens. Then these in turn disappear, and nothing remains
of the brilliant spectacle but a dark smoke-like segment on the
horizon.
" Hitherto the nature of the aurora has been a mystery to men
of science. Let it be premised, then, that physicists had long
since recognized in the aurora a phenomenon of more than local,
of more even than terrestrial significance. They had learned to
associate it with relations which affect the whole planetary
scheme.
" Arago was engaged in watching from day to day, and from year
to year, the vibrations of the magnetic needle in the Paris Observa-
tory. In Jan., 1819, he published a statement to the effect that the
sudden changes of the magnetic needle are often associated with
the occurrence of an aurora." The statements are then given in
his own words, and from them the following deduction is made :
"From all this it appears incontestably that there is an intimate
connection between the causes of auroras and those of terrestrial
magnetism"
This strange hypothesis, was, at first, much opposed by scientific
men, but gradually it was found that physicists had mistaken the
character of the auroral display. It appeared that the magnetic
needle not only swayed responsively to auroras observable in the im-
mediate neighborhood, but to auroras in progress hundreds, or even
thousands of miles away. It has been found that a much closer
bond of sympathy exists between the magnetized needle and the
auroral streamers than even Arago had supposed. It is not merely
the case that while an auroral display is in progress, the needle is
subject to unusual disturbance, but the movements of the needle
are actually synchronous with the waving movements of the mys-
terious streamers.
" I may notice in passing that two very interesting conclusions
follow from this peculiarity : First, every magnetic needle over the
whole earth must be simultaneously disturbed ; and, secondly, the
ZODIACAL LIGHT. 105
auroral streamers which wave across the skies of one country must
move synchronously with those which are visible in the skies of
another country, even though thousands of miles may separate the
two regions.
" Could we only associate auroras with terrestrial magnetism, we
should still have done much to enhance the interest which the beau-
tiful phenomena are calculated to excite. But when once this asso-
ciation has been established, others of even greater interest are
brought into recognition ; for " — I take the liberty of italicizing for
emphasis this portion which is printed in Roman in the text — " ter-
restrial magnetism has been clearly shown to be influenced directly
by the action of the sun."
" We already begin to see, then, that auroras are associated in
some mysterious way with the action of the solar rays. The phe-
nomena which have been looked upon for so many ages as a mere
spectacle, caused perhaps by some process in the upper regions of
the air, of a simply local character, have been brought into the
range of planetary phenomena.
"Most of my readers have doubtless heard of the zodiacal
light, and many of them have perhaps seen that mysterious radi-
ance, pointing obliquely upward from the western horizon, soon
after sunset in the spring months, or in autumn shortly before sun-
rise, above the eastern horizon. The light, as its name indeed im-
plies, lies upon that region of the heavens along which the planets
travel. Accordingly, astronomers have associated it with the plan-
etary orbits, and have come to look on it as formed by the light re-
flected from a multitude of minute bodies travelling around the sun
within the orbit of our earth." After a short account of the spec-
troscope and its use in analyzing substances especially those reflect-
ing light or luminous in themselves, he says : " Recently, however,
zodiacal light has been analyzed by Angstrom, with a result alto-
gether unexpected, and at present almost unintelligible. Its spec-
trum exhibits a bright line, and this bright line is the same that is
seen in the spectrum of the aurora borealis!"
Furthermore : " Of all the phenomena presented to the contem-
106 TAILS OF COMETS.
plation of astronomers, the tails of comets are undoubtedly the
most perplexing. Now there is one feature of comets' tails that
has long since attracted attention, and will remind the reader of the
peculiarities common to the zodiacal and the auroral light. We re-
fer to the sudden changes of brilliancy, and the instantaneous
lengthening and shortening of these appendages. And the emi-
inent mathematician Euler was led by the observation of similar ap-
pearances to put forward the theory ' That there is a great affinity
between these tails, the zodiacal light, and the aurora borealis? . .
It is far from being unlikely that these long vexed questions — the
nature of the aurora, that of the zodiacal light, and that of comets'
tails — will receive their solution simultaneously;" and he further
adds : " I had scarcely completed the above pages when news was
brought from America that the spectrum of the sun's corona, as
seen during the recent total solar eclipse, exhibited the same bright
lines as the aurora. Lastly, it has been found that the peculiar
phosphorescent light, sometimes visible all over the sky at night,
gives the same spectrum (very faint of course) as the aurora and
the zodiacal light. What we learn certainly, therefore, from the
facts above stated, is this — that substances of the same sort emit
the light of the aurora, of the zodiacal gleam, the tails of comets,
of the sun's corona, and of the phosphorescence which illuminates
at times the nocturnal skies. But when once we have reason —
as in the case of the aurora we undoubtedly have — to associate
electricity with any particular form of luminosity, we seem clearly
justified in extending the explanation to the same form of lu-
minosity wherever it may appear."
Although I have already taxed your patience with long quotations
of such a strictly scientific character, I cannot conclude them
without giving Prof. Proctor's own deductions from this series of
arranged facts. He says : —
" I believe that the key to the whole series of phenomena dealt
with above lies in the existence of myriads of meteoric bodies
travelling separately or in systems around the sun. They are
consumed in thousands daily by our own atmosphere. They
LITTLE AUK OR SEA DOVE. 107
probably pour in countless millions upon the solar atmosphere, and
from what we know of their numbers in our own neighborhood, and
of the probability of their being infinitely more numerous in the
neighborhood of the sun, we have excellent reasons for believing
that to them, principally, is due the appearance of the zodiacal
light and the solar corona."
I have occupied much more time in the discussion of this most
interesting and highly instructive theme than I had intended, but,
as you can see, the phenomena dealt with could not have been ex-
plained with less. We will now pass on to some of the less sci-
entifically important, but still, we will trust, interesting portions of
our diary.
Just here a short account of one of the characteristic birds of
this region may be of interest. I refer to the little auk, or sea
dove (Mergulus alle), so common some years in the waters about
the islands and harbors all along the coast. From Oct. i5th until
the ice set in, I found these little fellows common everywhere in the
waters of the bays and harbors, and they were generally quite
tame. The people here regard their arrival as a sign of cold
weather, but it certainly did not prove to be the case this year,
since the birds were unusually abundant and the year an unusually
mild one. The popular and local name is Bonne homme (the
French for good fellow) and is pronounced as if spelled Bun-
num. It associates with the black guillemot, and possesses with
it many habits in common. It dives at the flash of the gun, swims
long distances under the water, but is generally very tame and quite
easy to approach though quick in its movements. I have seen
them killed with an oar after a long chase in a boat. When
first taking flight they half fly and half push themselves along the
surface of the water, since their small wings make it very difficult
for them to fly freely. I have seen one pursued in a boat by a
number of men who amused themselves by throwing the oars
and pieces of wood, together with the ballast of the boat
at it, not a single missile hitting its mark, since the bird was able to
dodge each article thrown at it by diving and appearing in a most
108 WRECKS, WESTERN ARM OF BAY.
contrary direction from that looked for ; to the surprise of all the
bird at last escaped without so much as a single wound. I have
noticed nearly all the changes of plumage in this bird that I have
seen in the pigeon during the first year, though the head, so far as
I have seen, is always black. It is a familiar little fellow, and sel-
dom killed, unless scarcity of food demands it.
Thursday the 4th. Some of the men started off early this morn-
ing hunting for logs or pieces of wood from what appears to be a
wreck. The lookout in these regions for wrecks is at all times
sharp and continued. It not unfrequently happens that a barque or
brig, and in one or two cases a steamer, going from Quebec or
Montreal to Newfoundland or Liverpool, is lost or led astray by
the fog and wrecked on some of the many treacherous rocks on this
part of the coast. Only yesterday one of the men returned with a
large piece of the bulwarks of some ship that had been evidently cast
away. It looked quite fresh, and hearing in addition that one of
the owners of a large establishment here had sent in a hurry for
several men to help him do some work the nature of which he
was shrewd enough to withhold, we fairly concluded that there must
be a wreck somewhere near. While they were away investigating
the matter I took my gun and started off, proposing to climb the
ridge on the western arm of the bay and see what results might be
obtained in that quarter.
I first ascended the hill at the foot of the bay. The path was an
old Indian foot path, and most of the way ascended almost per-
pendicularly. I reached a level after much trouble, and found
that the needle of my barometer registered three hundred feet
above the sea's level. I then went carefully all over the top of the
height, and was much interested in finding the singular features
presented. The elevation seemed to be a plateau three to
five hundred feet high, with several crests arising from seventy-five
to one hundred feet higher, but with a general level at the distance
given above. There were several small ponds, much mucky
ground, and several patches of what we should call, on the sea-
shore, mud flats. Deep ravines were plentiful, and several times I
DEER TRACKS. 109
found myself suddenly and without premonition within a few feet
of a perpendicular wall of rock, — in fact once a regular precipice
reaching several hundred feet below and nearly to the sea level.
The whole ridge is divided by a deep gully through which a large
stream flows from a chain of ponds, the first of which could be
barely seen in the distance, and which is full of trout, the inhabi-
tants tell me. Between the shore and the southwest side of this
stream the ridges continue but they are cut up with more gorges
than the northeastern portion. I found no less than three deep
clefts, starting from near a common centre and running in contrary
directions down to the sea. Beyond is a deep cliff, and several small
gullies, running into a large open place that must have reached
nearly to the sea level, which presented an almost impassable bar-
rier to the coast line. After a long detour I at length reached the
beach, or rather the place where there might have been a beach, and
found nothing but rock close to the edge of the water, with no sign
of a footing anywhere. I clambered over the rocks for about three-
quarters of a mile and found a perpendicular face of rock that
must be climbed or return must be made as I had come. De-
termined not to return I with difficulty climbed over one hundred
feet of this precipice, when I am confident that a single false step
would have sent me to the rocks at the bottom, and thence around
the edge of the face of the rock. I had but about two miles to
go to reach home, but three times I was obliged to climb steep
heights from near the sea level to about two hundred and fifty feet
above (where often the undergrowth of thick and tangled spruce
alone would have made the ascent quite difficult) and three times
descend again. It was half tide and I could not walk around as it
is possible to do at dead low tide. The top level of the hills above
was protected by overhanging ledges so that I could not ascend
them; thus I was obliged to pursue a winding course over the
outstanding ridges of the rocks to the eastern face of the cliff.
It took full five hours for me to accomplish the distance home,
short as it was.
Friday the 5th. This morning I saw the tracks of a small herd
of deer that had passed during the night. They were plainly
110 EVIDENCES OF A WRECK.
visible for a long distance on the thick, spongy moss which every-
where carpets the ridge just back of the house. Towards evening
the men returned bringing the looked-for news — not that we wished
a vessel to be wrecked for our special benefit, but should there be
one we desired to know of it and see it if possible, — there had
been a large brig wrecked on her passage from Montreal to England
laden with lumber. The men reported the harbors and coves
everywhere along the shores as full of logs and deal boards. The
crew, it appears, were saved, but the vessel was a total wreck. As
a short account of this wreck may be of interest I append the
facts as, being present, I was able to obtain them.
It was on the evening of November 30, that the boat and
men returned from a short sail up the bay, where they had been
to visit some traps that had been set there, bringing with them
news that a large piece of the bulwark of a vessel was lying above
high tide on one of the islands, and that to all appearances there
had been a vessel wrecked during the preceding stormy weather.
I think that it was later in the same day we heard that a gang of
men had been sent for in a great hurry by one of the chief men
on the coast, for the ostensible purpose of doing some work on the
framework of a building that he had for some time proposed con-
structing ; putting together these two circumstances it seemed safe
to conclude that something unusual had occurred, and it also
seemed equally safe to suppose that that something was a ship-
wreck.
In such a locality as this, remote from habitation, the struggle
for life is by no means easy ; and at such a season as this, when
time hangs heavy, it is not to be wondered at that the news and
this probable interpretation of it spread like fire, and everybody
was awake to be off and sea what was to be seen, or find what was
to be found. The people about could hardly wait until the next
morning before starting off in their boats, and it was yet early, in
fact before daylight, that a party from the house, with a small sack
of provisions, in case they should be obliged to stay away over
night, started in search of the supposed wreck. Those of us who re-
remained at home of course did our best at speculating as to the
SEARCHING FOR WRECK. Ill
results of the search, but it was not until the next day that we learned
the truth. Meanwhile, several parties, also much excited over the
news, called upon us in the evening, they also eager to be off. We
fed. and housed them for the night, and with them indulged in all
kinds of speculations as to the probabilities and possibilities of the
case. As yet none of us knew the real state of affairs outside, but
that there must have been a shipwreck, no one seemed to deny.
Then came the questions : Where was it ? How was it ? When
was it ?
As each of these questions was discussed separately by all parties
present, it was some time before they were disposed of; when they
were, we varied the conversation with queries as to the size of the ship
and nature of her cargo. Of course all united in the hope that she
might be a large vessel, and laden with provisions, as that is the
thing most needed here ; but we could hardly hope that the real-
ity would equal our hopes and expectations, and it was finally agreed
that should the cargo of the supposed ship, that we felt sure had
been wrecked, prove to be lumber, we should be equally satisfied.
The party that had just gone from the house proposed staying over
night at a neighboring island, and to proceed along the coast of the
various islands and mainland the next morning hoping to make
discoveries ; the party that had just arrived, too late to accompany
the first, seemed unsettled as to what to do. In fact they were so
wrought with excitement that they seemed ready for almost any-
thing. Although it was already night when they arrived, some
proposed rowing at once to the island, where the first party had
gone, a distance of four miles, at least, and with them, starting
off the next morning. We easily dissuaded them, from such
an attempt, however, and talking over the outlook of the case
we passed away the time until slumber called us all to its em-
brace. The next morning we waited patiently for our party to
return (as our friends of last night had left early) and relieve our
suspense, for we too shared a feeling of anxiety as to the result ;
but it was afternoon before the boat returned, and not until then
that our desires were at least partially gratified. The relics brought
112 CRUISING.
home in the boat gave us no longer any room to doubt that there
had been a tolerably good sized wreck somewhere. There were
iron and copper bolts, hinges, bits of rope, a bed sacking, a box of
books, a long pipe, a blacking brush, and any amount of small ma-
terial that had been picked up around the shores of the islands, but
what presented the most substantial evidence of the disaster was a
genuine barrel of flour, superfine extra. The men were full of news.
The islands swarmed with deal boards and logs everywhere. Oak
and pine lay about in confusion. Here was then at least an an-
swer to one of our questions. There had been a shipwreck to the
westward ; how far as yet we did not know, and the lumber, of which
the cargo must have been largely if not wholly composed, lay
around us, and could be had not for the asking, but for the pick-
ing up.
The boat soon unloaded, and the men provided with their din-
ners; we then began to look about us, and prepare for another
cruise, to find out, if possible, where the wreck was. We were soon
ready, and getting into the boat started on our expedition. Know-
ing that the wreck was to the west, as the drift of the logs and deal
was from that direction, we made up our minds to stop that night (as
it was nearly night when we started off) at the house of a neighbor,
about four miles up the coast. It was now nearly dark, the wind
had gone down, and, much against our wills, we were compelled to
take down sail and row. Three stout fellows at the oars, however
much the swell might take the boat, were more than a match for
the waves, and she spun along at least seemingly fast, until we had
rounded the corner of the bay, and come into still rougher waters.
We passed one or two boats, and thought little of it at the time ;
we afterwards found that they were on the same errand as ourselves.
After a couple of hours of hard struggling at the oars, we came in
sight of a glimmer of light down the bay or deep cove past the
headland that had just been rounded ; soon it became brighter, and
we passed into the more quiet waters within the bay, and rapidly
approached the beacon and its well known shelter. It was quite
dark when we moored our boat alongside of the rocks. We saw to
SCENE AT DUSK. 113
our surprise, in the same shelter, and within a stone's throw from
us, the boats of nearly all the people on the coast, for a dozen miles
eastward. It seemed that other people had come in search of the
wreck as well as ourselves, and showed us strangers the rapidity
with which news travels even on this coast, where the houses are
four, six, or ten miles apart. Surprised as we were, we finished
mooring, and started towards the house. The scene that burst
upon us reminded one strongly of some fanciful legend of pirates
or sea-robbers. Here the dark outline of the house, back of which
tall cliffs frowned out a gloomy reception, was lighted up by a fire
on the rocks to the right of the doorway, around which was
assembled a group of men who went and came in and out of
the darkness beyond the flames. A crane hung over the fire and
kettles were suspended a little above the flames containing the
tea of the several parties who formed the group ; to the left of the
house a wide expanse of darkness wrapped the cliffs, the water,
and the ground in one sea of dusk. Approaching the house, the
scene presented a livelier aspect and we were better able to see
about us. The house of our friend had been literally taken
possession of. Later in the evening when more boats had arrived,
we counted twenty-four persons who had thus invaded this retreat,
and established themselves until morning.
You may imagine the confusion of twenty good voices in loud
conversation (loud talking seems to be the rule with the people
on the coast) over the prospects ; add to this the excitement
which prevailed on every hand, and the bustle over the dishes, as
party after party (each of whom, by the way, brought their own
provisions) sat down or rose up from table, and you have the
scene complete, — no, not complete, for the room was none too
warm, it being a cold night out and the atmosphere breathed and
felt of tobacco smoke so forcibly, that one could "cut it," as the ex-
pression is.
After a great deal of talking and listening at the time, with what
was learned afterwards, I have prepared with a great deal of care
the following story of the wreck ; — »
8
114 WRECK OF THE EDWARD CARDWELL.
The Edward Cardwell, a full rigged barquentine, bound from
Quebec, P. Q., to Liverpool, England, after several days out (how
many we did not learn), encountered dense fogs off the banks, and
for about three days had been sailing in this uncertainty, feeling her
way slowly along, the officers not knowing where they were going,
but supposing themselves somewhere near the Newfoundland
shores. At one time the fog lifted for a few moments, and then
the white beacon of Whale island met their view, but the immediate
shutting down of a still denser fog left them again in the uncertain
condition in which they had been before. Steering as near as
possible in the direction of the beacon, it was not until rocks
suddenly loomed up near by that the pilot found himself at the
entrance of a narrow pass near a rocky shoal with the mainland
some half a mile on the left. The ship was under too much
headway, though it was moving but slowly at best, to stop or back
out of her perilous position. The pilot headed her straight for the
opening, and called to all hands to prepare themselves for the shock.
One young man sprang to the cabin door and called to the captain,
who not having time even to take up his watch, which was lost,
rushed on deck only just in time to secure a place in the boat,
which the frantic men had lowered, and were about severing from
its fastenings to the ship. The ship struck and went to pieces in
a few hours afterwards ; the crew, nineteen men, were just saved,
but having lost all. The men rowed to the neighboring shore, and
finding the empty summer house of a Mr. Belvin, one of the
inhabitants of the coast, they broke in the door and made a fire,
remaining there that night. In the morning they took one of Mr.
Belvin's boats, as their own had been destroyed, and rowed along
the coast and islands until they reached the abode of Mr. W. H.
Whiteley, about fifteen miles from the wreck, where they tarried
until they were soon after carried to Greeley island lighthouse,
from which place they were taken to the Newfoundland coast,
and thus reached some port from which they took passage home.
Mr. Whiteley, the Magistrate of the coast, agrees substantially
with my statement. The ship went to pieces soon after it struck,
EVENING AT THE COTTAGE 115
and the next morning (Tuesday) logs, deals, and rubbish of all
sorts were to be found everywhere on the mainland and islands to
the eastward. The vessel contained few provisions, but these
were mostly lost in deep water. The rocks where she struck are
called on the chart the Porpoise rocks, and the water about the
shoal varies from nine to thirteen, and even thirty fathoms ; the
distance to the mainland is about a mile, and from the opposite
coast of Newfoundland some thirty miles.
Let us now return to the cottage and see what is going on there.
The evening wears slowly away, the men enjoy themselves and
pass their time in smoking and talking. Some are jovial and hearty
in their manner, while others, quite the reverse, are gloomy and
morose. It is easy to see who are friendly and who avoid each
other, for the men cluster together and engage in low or loud con-
versation as the subject of which they talk be private or public,
while others sit in the corners, on the floor, or in chairs resting
their heads upon their hands, or, leaning against the wall, are far in
the land of slumbers. One man stands warming himself with his
hands behind him, and his face away from the stove facing the
crowd, while another perhaps will be talking loudly and boisterously,
gesturing violently at the same time as if to impress the group
more with a sense of his own importance than to give a statement
of the real condition of some important issue ; perhaps this same
person will soon change his position to a slight bend of the head
and body as, with one finger held up very near to his eye, he makes
an outward and downward gesture, as he delivers himself of some
whispered secret opinion, at the same time that, having delivered
his opinion, he straightens himself up with the air of one who has
relieved himself of a, to him, tremendous thought.
In one way or another the time flies. One by one the men
stretch themselves on the boxes and benches in the corners ; tipped
up in the chairs, and on the floor besides the fire, they doze off to
catch a poor apology for sleep in these uncomfortable positions.
We can only get intervals of rest as somebody is constantly open-
ing and shutting the door in passing in and out ; this occasions so
116 FINDING LOGS AND DEAL.
much noise and cold air that soon even the air from the stove
grows chilled and we with it.
At length, after a number of twistings and vain attempts to sleep
the earliest of this adventuresome party arouse the rest by their
preparations for early starting in the shape of making a fire, boiling
the kettle, and preparing and eating an early breakfast. Between
three and four o'clock the first party leave, and are followed by the
others at intervals of different length, but near enough to each
other to prevent our going to sleep again, until at daylight we are
about the last to leave the house with a good warm breakfast in
place of a good night's sleep.
As most of the other boats are engaged in a similar expedition
as ourselves, to follow us will be to follow them. The wind is against
us and the waves are high, but we start off without much trouble and
row, head to the wind and waves, out into the passage and towards
the nearest island. The shore is plainly visible as we row along,
and a sharp lookout soon discovers a log lying on the beach and a
deal close by ; we row to them and have soon carried the deal
above high water mark while we note the place for future use ;
beyond are several more deals, and further on others; soon we
come to a cove full of strewn rubbish composed of bits of wood
and hay and straw, with many sticks and broken boards while sev-
eral large oak and pine logs lie, as they have been tossed by the
waves, wedged in between the stone and rocks. These logs are,
as are most of those found, from eighteen inches to two feet in
width and thickness, and from thirty to fifty feet in length ; while
the deal are about two inches thick, from ten to eighteen inches
wide and about twelve feet long. Each is of three qualities and
stamped with the Quebec market initials of " A. F. A. K." or with
the word "Montmorenci." With considerable difficulty the big
logs are pried over and over until they reach the water when an
iron bolt is fastened to them and a rope attached drags them out
into the water where the tide, which is on the flood, rises sufficiently
to float them.
In this way a raft or rather tow is soon made of four fine, pine
WOOD-CUTTING. 117
logs and, elated with our success as wreckers on a small scale, we
start off for home. In a day or two the deals were found floating
about by hundreds, and the work of collecting them as also of
marking and tying the logs to identify them, continued all the fall
and even into the winter. This is the first wreck that has occurred
on the coast, near here at least, for over thirty years, I think, if
my information is correct ; and though we certainly wish no harm
to anybody, we can but rejoice that the misfortune of the ship will
be so fortunate for the people of the coast.
Wednesday, Nov. roth. The men have spent a greater part of
the day cutting wood. Those who can obtain wood near by with-
out the necessity of going into the interior up the river, and rafting
it down, as many of them do, content themselves with a smaller ar-
ticle, and continue to make clearings in the low spruce and fir
about their own place. The majority of this wood varies from
four to six and even seven inches in diameter, while the trees are
rarely over fifteen feet in height. The tree is cut, the branches
trimmed, and the limbs thrown in a pile upon the ground ; the
trunks are then piled on the sledge and drawn by the dogs to
the house. In winter the men are often obliged to go chopping
wood after a heavy fall of snow. It is then a matter of no pleasure
to walk half a mile or a mile through the deep snow to some cho-
sen locality, and there remain cutting for many hours, while the
snow from the branches falls down your neck, as you stoop over
to chop, and the wet often finds a hole, be it ever so small,
in your boots ; while, to endure the cold, the thick clothing
one is obliged to wear renders such violent exercise anything
but comfortable. When the wood choppers return at night there
is always a hot supper waiting for them, and the roaring and
crackling fire sends out a genial heat that dries the wet garments
while it comforts the spirits of the men.
Friday, the i2th. The first snowstorm of winter came upon
us to-day. It began in the morning and snowed most furiously all
day ; by evening the ground was covered to the depth of nearly if
118 LABRADOR SNOW.
not quite a foot. The snow here differs from that of New Eng-
land and other parts of the United States, in that it is dry and not
damp. It packs heavily, and when walked on generally gives out
that crisp sort of echo so often observed in walking anywhere over
lightly packed drifts. In this climate, after our first snowstorm,
winter is upon us, and we can safely conclude that we are shut in
from sunlight and society until the next summer. A thin coat-
ing of ice has already formed, and we can probably soon be able
to traverse the bays in our sledges. We have fully started upon
our six months of ice and snow.
Before I go any further, let me here stop for a few moments and
review a little. I have not fully described to you our quarters
either here, in our snug inland retreat, or those from which we so
lately removed on the outside island ; I will therefore try to give
you a little idea of how we live, and in what we live ; and, as most
of the families possess similar establishments, we will try to give
you the general idea of a Labrador home.
DWELLING HOUSES. 119
CHAPTER VIII.
A Labrador home — Houses — Where erected — Stage — Shop — Stable —
The house — Papering — Family — Occupation of its members — Out-
of-door life.
IN describing a Labrador home, I shall be doing justice to
nearly all by describing one, since all are modelled and furnished
on about the same plan.
There are, of course, a number of houses modelled after the
fashion of those "in the States," as the expression is here; but
they are the exception rather than the rule. The best house, per-
haps, is owned and occupied by Mr. W. H. Whiteley, the magis-
trate of this section of the coast, and situated at Bonne Esperance,
a little island at the mouth of the Esquimaux, or, as it is rightly
named, St. Paul's river. This is a comfortable mansion-like affair,
and is built like many of the so-called house taverns so common
in country places in New England and other states. Its white ex-
terior shows for a long distance up and down the coast, on a clear
day, especially if the sun be shining and serves as a beacon to the
inhabitant and voyager in these parts.
While Mr. Whiteley's is a palace beside the other houses, there
are those that are hovels beside what I am about to describe as
characteristic of the larger and better class of abodes. These hov-
els, or rather huts, for huts they are in the true sense of the word,
are of the rudest kind. The logs, posts, and most of the boards
are hewed out by hand from trees growing a little way in the in-
120 SITUATION CHOSEN.
terior, and brought down on rafts by the nearest river ; on the
border of which the hewing and trimming, which render them fit
for the purpose for which they are intended, are generally though
not always done and in the fall of the year.
The localities chosen for the erection of house or hut are gen-
erally two, one for a summer house in some open situation, and
the other for what is called "winter quarters •" and as winter em-
braces the greater part of the year, it is important that this latter
shall be, as it invariably is, in some sheltered cove on the mainland
where, if possible, high cliffs protect it on all sides, except from
the sea ; if such a place is not found, as sheltered a place as pos-
sible is chosen. When the house is a summer house there are usu-
ally cliffs on the north side, or if not cliffs high rocks, and the ex-
posure to the sea easterly or southerly.
A hut is of the rudest make. The sides are of logs, the bot-
tom and floor of single boards, the roof of rough rafters, and the
top of thin deal or clapboards ; but a house is of different con-
struction.
I shall not stop here to describe Old Fort island, as I shall
do so further on. I will simply say that it is the largest of the
neighboring islands, — except the one called Esquimaux island,
— and is about four miles from the mainland. The owners, or
rather the dwellers thereon, regard this as simply their summer
abode, while the winter house, is located on the mainland. The
name Old Fort is historical ; it being so called in memory of old
times in connection with the French and Indian wars.
The relation between the mainland and the island, as is seen by
their names, is very close ; and this little family of settlers have
taken possession of both places, which they have held for many
years, and set up their abodes thereon ; the winter house being
at the elbow of the bend in Old Fort bay.
The house on the island is placed about forty rods from the wa-
ter on the east, on a small bank of rising ground about ten or
twelve feet above the sea level at high tide. The whole island is
low anywhere, yet the plain here happens to be smooth and well
DESCRIPTION OF THE STAGE. 121
covered with grass and vegetation. On the southern side the land
slopes down regularly to the sea, and an elliptical shaped beach
of rock and sand, visible only at low tide, separates the land from
the water, in this direction. On the west is a series of low,
rocky elevations ; in the north, another series of much higher
knolls is terminated abruptly by the water. In the centre of this
little plot of ground, comprising about one one-hundredth of the
whole island, the house is situated.
I say the house is situated, but it would be better to say the
houses are situated ; for there are generally several buildings con-
nected with a well conducted fishing post, or summer residence.
I will give a brief description of them : —
The stage consists of a platform some sixty or seventy feet long
(according to the necessary distance), and built from the beach into
the sea — generally so that the farther end will always be some feet
above the water even at the highest tide — and about sixteen feet
wide. It is built on posts or poles which raise it some six or eight
feet above the ground, and covered with boards. The regular
fishing boats are generally moored only a short distance from
the wharf or stage in deep water, while several small boats are fas-
tened to the stage by means of which the men get from the wharf
to their boats and back. The inner half of the stage is called the
house, and is covered over with a sloping roof and board sides.
It encloses bins for salt and fish, barrels for either or both,
and the general necessary things contained in such places. This
house has usually a loft for the storage of nets, or anything not
needed for immediate use but which are too good to be thrown
away. A simple board walk leads to the front door, while the back
partition, generally open to the stage beyond, completes the fishing
house and stage, where cod are split and cured, salmon and trout
salted, mackerel cured, and where all kinds of fish are prepared
and preserved. One curious fact may be mentioned : that the
primitive way of fastening doors exists here almost everywhere
in spite of the cheapness of door fastenings as purchased of the
traders ; the whole contrivance is made of wood, and the door is
122 INTERIOR OF SHOP.
opened or shut from the outside by a cord which passes through it
by means of a small hole, the inside end being fastened to the latch,
and the other to the door by another hole and a knot in the string.
This makes a loop upon the inside which answers for the handle.
The doors of all the houses, barns, stages, and shops are similarly
fastened.
Next to "the stage" comes "the shop." This is another small
house with single room and a high loft, and is situated not far
from the house and the stage. It is built low, the foundation
resting either on or near the ground. Its size is between that of
the stage and the house proper. In it are kept the extra stores ; the
flour, potatoes, turnips, salt pork or beef, butter, tea chest, and
other articles not in ordinary use in the house. In one corner
is a tool bench, on a shelf above are numerous cans with remnants
of paint for painting boats and perhaps the kitchen floor ; above
this, on a series of nails, hang saws, shaves, planes, old iron hoops,
and all sorts of articles usable and unusable that can hang up,
while the bench beneath is cluttered up with a little of anything
and everything that you can imagine. In the opposite corner the
scythe and hoe lean against the wall, while a little way from them a
very small, coarse grindstone, mounted on a carriage that threatens
to fall to pieces every time that it is touched, leans rather than
stands. On the wall, over against the stone, a small window frame
is nailed on the inside of a square opening ; it often contains but
three whole panes and a broken fourth, the hole filled with an old
felt hat. By this, aided by the additional light of the open door,
barely light enough enters to enable one to see where to get or put
away anything, which is generally anywhere. This shop door
looks as if a part of the partition had been cut off, at the
farther end and on the same side as the window, and a couple
of cleats nailed crosswise, one above the other, to hold the
boards together ; the whole affair having very poor, jagged hinges
on one side, so that the door opens and shuts very hard and
squeaks proportionally, and a latch on the other.
On the floor, just between the door and window, lies the koma-
STABLE AND HOUSE. 123
tik or dog sledge ; just above hang the dog harnesses ; and next to
them the rackets, or snow shoes, by means of which the men, and
sometimes the women and children, with a little practice, walk
easily and quickly over the light and often very deep new fallen
snow. In the only remaining corner stands a heap of rubbish
which extends underneath the bench nearly to the other side of
the room. It is composed of every namable thing that you can
imagine : scraps of leather, old shoes and boots ; pieces of wood,
long and short, thick and thin, picked out for special purposes ;
old iron bolts, hinges, spikes, and rings ; old pans and paint dishes ;
pieces of rope of various sizes and thicknesses, cork bobs for fish
nets and wooden blocks for the same purpose, with an occasional
"snatch-block," as the sailors call it, — being an oval piece of wood
hollowed out with a wheel inside such as is used for hoisting articles
by rope, — and in fact a large assortment of general rubbish beside.
At a short distance from the shop stands the stable, if the
family keep a cow, a goat, or any other animal requiring a building
of this kind. This is the simplest sort of a shed or barn, — with a
top hay loft, and a few plain partitions which serve the animals as
stalls, — while even a manger is wanting, and the food is given to
them upon the floor of the upper end of the stall. Many families
do not keep such animals, not being able to afford them ; then the
stable is of course useless and unnecessary.
Passing now directly to the house — only noticing several boats
lying upon the sand or on the bank above the beach, at the right of
the stage, and the ever present pile of wood, partly cut and partly
in long rugged pieces, with the fish flakes, which will be spoken of
in connection with the fishing business — we will try to describe it.
The house is, of course, a primitive affair, and perhaps little
better than the abodes which our forefathers were accustomed,
after a while, to erect upon "the rude and rugged shores" of some
seacoast town of our own New England or Atlantic states. It gener-
ally faces the south, — that is, the door and longest side do, and is
about one-third longer than wide. It is built with one full story down-
stairs, and an attic beneath the sloping roof; a partition running
124 INTERIOR OF HOUSE.
from floor to roof divides both stories into two rooms each, the
largest of which is about square, and the smallest one half the
size of the large one. Windows are few and far between ; the
upper story usually with one at each end or with none at all as
the case maybe, — which case is usually governed by the money or
time at the disposal of the builder at the time of building — and
are always with the smallest kind of glasses and sashes possible to
admit any light ; the lower story usually has from two to four on
its sides, rarely any on its ends. The doors are usually three in
number, one upstairs and one downstairs in the partitions (these
are more often doorless openings) , and the outside one of all ;
they all resemble that of the store house before mentioned, at
least in one sure respect if in no other, namely, that they press
with difficulty upon the hinges and squeak horribly when the
process of opening and shutting, which happens so many times
in the course of twenty-four hours, occurs. The upper story is
reached from below by a narrow pair of stairs, or a ladder, leading
through an opening in one corner of the room, it is safe to say
three feet square or even less, and it requires a good deal of
practice to perfect one's self in the art of ascending and descending
safely. In the construction of the house the building materials
used everywhere are rude or good as the tenant can afford ; the
outside is clapboarded or shingled, and there is no cellar, except a
rough hole scooped out underground and lined with hay and coarse
grass, and boughs perhaps ; with a cover cut from the bottom of
the floor. The furniture consists of a large and ample stove (two
storied like the house) with a baking oven running its entire length
above, the stovepipe ascending straight upward, forming its own
chimney outside of the roof; the height of the stove being some
four feet above its legs which raise it some eight inches from the
bottom of the floor. It is placed between the two partitions and
nearly iA the centre of the room ; for its accommodation a large
piece of the partition is cut wholly away so that the warmth will
heat both rooms equally.
Besides these the tables are all home made, and of proper
INTERIOR OF HOUSE. 125
sizes to suit their different uses, being of plain deal boards varnished
or painted as there is no table-cloth laid at the meals on top.
The chairs are also home made, plain, high in the back, and with
seats of woven strips of deerskin or sealskin with or without a
cushion of patchwork or white cloth filled with ducks' feathers, —
withal quite comfortable. A rocking chair made after this fashion,
as it often is, is a comfortable affair, if not quite a luxury. In
the smaller of the two rooms is, as the expression goes, "a
poor apology" for a book-case containing a few catechisms and
books on the Bible, with perhaps the old times Fox's " Book of
Martyrs," a dilapidated Pilgrim's Progress, one or two Bibles,
a number of indescribable volumes many of which are in French,
besides a volume of uThe Leisure Hour," a London magazine
of good reading for the household in general, and perhaps one
or two torn books for children. The shelves are loose or crooked,
and the books present the appearance of having been caught in
the act of tumbling.
The small room down stairs is a bedroom ; it contains a bureau,
and, as do the two rooms up stairs, a bed each, either boarded or
corded to hold it together, in which is of course a tick filled with
feathers from ducks and other birds, as are the pillows also ;
the bedding is of the coarsest kind suitable for cold winters of
from 20° to 40° below zero with fierce winds of unknown velocity
per hour. A simple mention of the angular pantry, built in the
corner of the house down stairs, with the lower part cupboarded
and the upper part shelved and open, holding the plates, cups, and
saucers, a platter, a bowl, and one or two pitchers (of a small,
brown, glazed stone pattern) with the knives and forks, will do for
this table furniture. Placed in the opposite corner is a small table
with a washbowl and dish of soap, below which is a pail of water
with a small pail inside for a dipper, above which, at the side, hangs
a towel, and in front of which is a quadrangular piece of glass,
with or without a frame, with mercury parcelled behind it promis-
cuously,— the whole called a looking-glass ; with these one or two
carpenters' chests for tools containing clothing or other articles, and
126 UTILITY OF NEWSPAPERS.
a bench to sit on, and you will have before you a pretty fair picture
of the house and furniture. Three more subjects remain to be
spoken of.
First, the papering. Any one might reasonably be surprised at
the idea of papering such a house as above described, for two
reasons : that there should be the means for such a luxury here, and
at the way in which it is done. Roof, boards, rafters, the sides of the
house up and down stairs, the doors, and the cupboard are all pa-
pered — the articles used being anything in the shape of book,
pamphlet, or newspaper. I have spent more dull, gloomy mornings
than a few, reading the titles, looking at the pictures, or reading the
stories, pasted at the head and sides of my bed, and you will be
surprised at the following list of literature which actually occurs on
the walls of our palatial mansion on this out-of-the-way Labrador
coast. I give you the list directly as I took it myself from the pa-
pers whose titles they represent : The Montreal Witness, Sunday
School Times, Advance, Child's World, Christian World, Child
at Home, Protestant, Apples of Gold, Well Spring, Herald of Mercy,
American Messenger, Juvenile Presbyterian, Young Reapers, Chris-
tian Messenger, British Messenger, Home Missionary, Christian
Family Almanac, Nation, Youth's Temperance Banner, A German
paper, Sabbath School Messenger, Boston Journal, Springfield Re-
publican, Christian Soldier and Christian Guest, Child's Paper, Na-
tional Quarterly Review, Youth's Companion, Cottager and Artisan,
Northern Messenger, Harper's Weekly, Every Saturday, Our Lit-
tle Ones, Life Boat, Foreign Missionary, Young Missionary, Sab-
bath School Visitor, Colporteur and Dominion Monthly, — all these
I saw, and there might have been others that escaped me. Although
it may surprise you to see a list of thirty-nine papers, most of whose
names are household words at home, the way in which the people
get them is also curious ; it being, I am informed, a regular cus-
tom with the Mission to send, at Christmas time, a bundle of old
papers — of which they are always receiving a large number — to
each family living near. About two weeks after the receipt of these,
and usually just after the holidays which here embrace the twelve
ART AND LITERATURE COMBINED. 127
days from Christmas to old Christmas day, the 6th of January, the
ladies of the house begin. They patch up the old places, repaper
the dirty ones, and spend their time pasting on the new papers in
every spot that needs them until the pile is exhausted and there are
no more ; then the ladies scold terribly because there were not
half enough papers, and say that they better not have put on any,
unless they could have papered the whole house over anew. When
the papering is completed it presents a very curious appearance. As
I am now writing there appears on the partition beside me, a copy
of the Montreal Witness Extra, for May, 1870, in the centre of
which is a large portrait of each Mr. Moody and Mr. Sankey, and a
sermon in full of the former ; in another paper next to it, whose
title is torn off, is another portrait — of Mr. Henry Varley, and also
an account of his last service in the Hippodrome ; above this is the
fancy label of a box of Loring Brothers Malaga Raisins with a por-
trait of that gentleman in the centre, a vine of luscious grapes hang-
ing on either side of him, and a lot of vessels and water below the
left hand, and a steam factory on the right, the whole done in col-
ored ink; a copy of the Child's Paper is above, and the Sab-
bath School Messenger, at the side of this, has a picture of the
lyre bird on one leaf, and a full sized illustration entitled " The
Frozen Regions " on the other, which represents a vast number of
curiously formed icebergs along its sides, a sea beneath in which
several large blocks of ice float carrying a soldierly row of solemn
looking penguins and several seal, and a mass of dark clouds over-
head. Quite near me an old Boston Journal relieves occasional
monotony by an editorial on Disneli, and a sketch of the " War
on the Danube," with several other things. Near the head of my
bed is a picture of a lady holding a little child on her lap, a small
girl talking to a squirrel which is seen as a small black speck away up
in the dense foliage of the neighboring trees, a fox-hunting party,
and a picture of two small boys of which the story beneath says that
the one because he got angry pitched the other into a pig pen, —
from which he was rescued by a kind old gentleman, who also
appears in the picture ; the paper is called "Apples of Gold." It
128 THE FAMILY.
is supposed to be a moral lesson paper for children ; but I will not
stop longer to describe these things, but pass on to the family,
which comes next in order.
Here also we come to a difficulty : that of describing a Labrador
family. It would be unkind to describe the family where I stopped
while on the coast, also any one particular family might feel justly
indignant should I describe their family, and yet to do justice to the
subject a description should be given. Still we shall not be out of
the way should we suppose a family composed of a middle aged man
and his wife ; either an old gentleman or an aged grandmother ;
perhaps a daughter or a son (from 15 to 20 years of age) or both ;
two or three small children and a baby ; and, to aid in times of gen-
eral confusion, when such times come, which happens more often
than the opposite extreme, several large, fierce, full-grown dogs and
one or two puppies that are always in the way, and in a continual
state of warfare with themselves, the people in the house, — who are
always scolding them — and everybody and everything in gen-
eral. When the houses have porches, as nearly all the winter houses
do, the dogs and children live in the porch together nearly all the time,
— in fact it is often difficult to tell which make the most noise, and in
the general confusion that continually prevails, to pick out or
distinguish the one from the other. Of course the utmost sim-
plicity of dress prevails among both men and women, as the richest
here are poor at best ; the goods worn are coarse and thick, but
rough as they are, they are better for the harsh treatment they re-
ceive than if they were of a much nicer quality. There is, of
course, a certain atmosphere of home even here, but it is often hard
to distinguish it, or tell when it is present, as the prevailing confu-
sion which such small quarters necessitate is rarely lulled ; and when
it is, peaceful sleep usually reigns. I do not wish to convey the
impression that somebody is always quarrelling with something, but
there is a constant chatter going on most all of the time, and when
quarrelling is not in order, as it frequently is, the loud talking of
different parties between themselves takes its place. It seems to
be the usual way of putting one down, as we say, to see which can
OCCUPATION OF INHABITANTS. 129
talk the loudest. If one has something to say, and anybody appears
to differ from the opinion expressed, the one who can talk the
other down always comes out ahead.
The occupation of the different members of the family can be
very briefly stated as that of earning a living in the summer, and
living in the winter. It is hardly necessary for me to say that this
means that what is earned during the summer in fishing and in other
ways is consumed, and more besides, in provisions, and clothing the
family for the year ; and though I make no allusions to any spe-
cial family, there is hardly an exception to the rule that there is
scarcely a person on the coast but owes for one, two, or even
three years back provisions ; this is due to several causes, of which
laziness forms the chief.
In former years those persons upon the coast who kept little
shops of provisions and the necessities of life, as also the traders,
were obliged to trust out large amounts of goods on the credit
of the following year's fishing. This was well enough as long as the
fishing was tolerably good and the people were not forced by hunger
to give untrue reports of the work done, since a falling off of the
supply of fish and a little prevarication brought them provisions,
etc., without much overwork ; but one or two years of scarcity of fish
soon left the people no means of paying their old debts, and mak-
ing promises which they could not perform, the traders began to re-
fuse them credit, and now there are few families on the coast who
hold their own and prosper.
In the summer the men fish ; in the fall they cut wood and do
little odd jobs necessary to the preparation for winter ; in the win-
ter they keep things about their place in order and prepare for
spring and summer, which come almost together as the ice does
not go away till late in May, by mending their nets, boats, and dog
sledges or komatiks ; this is usually finished by the opening of the
season when fishing begins again. In summer two or three days
are taken to collect eggs of sea-birds which abound on all the
islands, — enough for family use only. The down of the sea-birds is
kept for beds and pillows and the flesh proves a pleasing variety
9
130 CHILDREN— OUT-OF-DOOR LIFE.
from the usual diet of fish, otherwise so universal and abundant.
The women stay at home mostly and keep things in order there ;
cooking the meals which usually consists of the most simple fare :
bread with or without butter (some use lard for butter), rarely a
piece of pork, and tea of the usual kind called black or breakfast.
The main stand-by is either codfish or herring with an occasional
mackerel ; while the red berry and baked apple form excellent pre-
serves. The grandmother or the grandfather, of course, does
little but exist, so to speak, though the former keeps the family sup-
plied with good warm knit stockings, and makes and mends boots.
This may seem a queer statement, but one has only to consider that
the boots here are very different articles from what are obtained
in the "States," as the people here say, and that they are made
after the Esquimaux pattern, of sealskin, and with soft tops and
bottoms, to be convinced of the fact.
The children are, as I have said before, a constant source of dis-
turbance, and they with the dogs are always under foot ; if it is
not one, it is the other, and more often it is both. They grow up
together and fight together ; all at once the child becomes large
enough to be of use, and then he or she is up for himself or
herself, and is either ordered about by the women inside to attend
to such duties as they are able, or by the men outside to help them.
The dogs are a mongrel half breed. They fight all the time, and
eat anything that they can get hold of, from leather, or rather seal-
skin, which is used in the place of leather, to meat in its most
putrid condition.
The out-of-door life and surroundings of the people are neither
varied nor peculiar, and they live here much as such a class of people
do in other climates, dressing to suit the season, and paying very
little attention to their appearance, except during holidays or Sun-
days which are scrupulously regarded ; the latter, by simply keeping
the day — for in winter it is usually impossible to get to church, and
in summer it depends upon the wind, unless they live too far away,
as to whether they can get there at all — on holidays by dressing in
their best, and having a good time, a dance, or a shooting match ;
HOSPITALITY TO STRANGERS. 131
the men usually, if not almost invariably, ending up with a drunk.
The utmost hospitality is extended to strangers, and, as the various
houses are often at a distance of eight or ten miles apart, it is fre-
quently the case that a person, travelling from one place to another,
is of necessity compelled to seek food and a night's lodging ; when
such is the case personal quarrels are invariably forgotten, as it is
considered the height of meanness, though I use the word only for
want of a better, to let personality interfere with, you might say,
the necessities of travel. The men are scrupulously a prayerful
race ; and, with the great number with whom I was often obliged
to "rough it," I know of hardly a case where the men did not each
regularly kneel in the morning and at evening before retiring, and
say their prayers without the least hesitation, no matter how many
were around.
132 FRESH PROVISIONS.
CHAPTER IX.
Dinner off fresh meat — Credit and shiftlessness — A Labrador snowstorm —
Wind — Preparing for storm — Storming hard — Firewood — Storm in-
creases— Sleepless night — Another day of it — A grand sight — Vio-
lence of wind and wave — Destruction of stage — Calmer weather —
Beautiful ice scene — End of storm — Thanksgiving Day — Komatiks
and rackets.
SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 13. We went to Bonne Esperance partly
with the intention of staying and visiting, and partly to mail our
letters which of course we found were too late, and consequently
obliged to remain over until next spring. Encouraging prospect !
We had for dinner a piece of fresh pork which the shipwrecked crew
of the Edward Cardwell had presented to Mr. Whiteley. It tasted
very nice, especially as we had been living on salt pork in a log
cabin for a month past. Pork is with me at no time a favorite dish,
and it is only a luxury when nothing better has been afforded for a
month or two previous. The following Sunday was spent in doors,
in reading and in pleasant conversation with this most agreeable
family.
Monday it came off clear and cold. I had a chance to observe
the island quite closely. Mr. Whiteley has greatly improved it since
my visit in 1875. He now has a little shop or store, and sells a
great many things to the people. Of course he only attempts to keep
in stock those things absolutely needed by the people for food and
clothing. One is obliged to give so much credit here that it
hardly pays to keep anything, much less an assortment of useless
articles to please the fancy of some wordly-minded maid or fellow.
A very few send to Quebec every year and purchase a few articles
of gorgeous colors, and display a dress disproportionate to their
BEGINNING OF A HURRICANE. 133
manner of living ; but the majority are well contented with more
simple yet durable attire, and toil on, winter and summer, with no
greater ambition, apparently, than to become the wife of some lazy
young man who can barely support himself, and who generally
succeeds finally in supporting neither himself nor her ; but the
people are not all of this shiftless class, though so many of them
incline that way.
This afternoon I gave away, with much reluctance, my thermom-
eter, with a promise exacted in return that an accurate series of
readings should be kept up four times a day throughout the winter.
The parties of course 'failed to keep their agreement. It is cold to-
day and freezing, with the wind northwest.
Yesterday, and to-day (Thursday) the wind has continued north-
west. One of the boats at work on the wreck returned this morn-
ing with its mizzen-mast, a huge, iron-bound affair about seventy
feet in length, and together the men hauled it ashore, out of reach of
the water. It has been cold, cloudy, and threatening weather all day.
Friday it snowed hard all day, and the wind began to blow very
fiercely, increasing in strength towards night, while the temperature
continued to fall. A snowstorm here is somewhat different from
one in the States. The snow begins to fall very moderate, while
the clouds gradually grow heavier and heavier, and the flakes fall
thicker and faster until the sight becomes so blinded that, dazzled
and bewildered, one can with difficulty distinguish objects a few
rods away only. It comes with a fierceness scarcely credible, and
a suddenness hardly less so ; while it will often clear up as quickly
as it came on.
Saturday was a quiet day, but cold, with the storm and wind still
heavy, the latter freshening towards night.
Sunday, Nov. the 2ist. Last night about midnight the wind be-
gan to blow and the elements to war fiercely. This morning the
wind increased in violence, and spring tides rose to a greater
height than they had been seen before for a long time, and nearly
carried away the woodpile in front of the house : this is a large,
conical shaped pile of fir and larch sticks, each ten to thirty feet
134 PREPARING FOR BAD WEATHER.
high, and about eight inches in diameter at the base, stacked with
their small ends upward of course, thus making the whole affair
look like an immense Indian wigwam. It is placed in front of the
house and on a slightly descending slope, about ten rods from
the sea at low tide. The temperature throughout the day scarcely
varied from 18°. Frequent snow squalls, a wind direct east, and a
sudden and tremendous fall of the barometer, told that we might
expect a "spell of weather," as the people say, or even worse, with
the possibility of a hurricane. As a means of preparation, al-
though it was Sunday, the old adage of " a work of necessity,"
though it was hardly of "mercy," seemed to justify us in mustering
all hands and preparing for the worst. The worst appeared then
to be the hauling of the big logs, — as many of them as we were
able — which had been towed ashore from the wreck as far up on
the beach as our limited force of four men and ten children
would permit. This was not far, however, as solid oak logs some
eighteen or twenty inches square, and thirty to fifty feet in length,
are anything but easy handling. We then hauled all the boats,
those at least that seemed at all exposed to the fury of the wind
or water, as far up on the rocks as we were able. They were very
heavy, and to haul them we were obliged to use a "tackle." This
is an oblong block, with two wheels inside, separated by a narrow
partition, over which the ropes run easily, while the block is fastened
to the boat by a large iron hook. The end rope is fastened
to a ring in the top of the block, while the rope passes over
the wheels and through a single wheeled block some distance
back, this latter block being fastened to a large immovable anchor.
In this way a small force will literally run away with the log or boat
attached, which a large force may exert its utmost to move with
the hands. After working hard all the morning, it seemed as if
we really had everything prepared for the storm, should it break in
fury upon us.
About noon the thermometer rose to 36°, and the sky showed
signs of clearing ; but it was only a sign, for soon the wind started
up again, and blew a perfect gale from the southwest, and the
ANXIETY FOR THE WOOD. 135
darkened clouds, that everywhere enveloped the sky shutting out
the faintest shadow of blue, began to send down rain in torrents.
We now began to realize that a Labrador hurricane was fairly
upon us. Soon the rain gave place to hail, then the hail to rain
again, and even fierce flurries of snow scattered huge flakes in
every direction. The wind blew harder than ever, and it soon be-
came dangerous to go outside the door. About two o'clock in the
afternoon the tide reached so great a height as again to threaten
the woodpile in front of the house, and though this was placed
higher up on the beach than last year even, and very near the
house, the waves reached the foot of the pile, and gradually began
to lap against its butts as if to undermine it; there was real
danger that if we did not lash it with ropes the whole pile would
be carried away with the tide.
In this cold region, wood is by no means as abundant as it is in
most countries. Here the coast produces little save stunted
growths of fir, spruce, and birch ; the latter only is really fit for
firewood. Generally each man is obliged to go up some of the
rivers near his abode, and cut his own wood from the larger
growths ten, fifteen, or even twenty miles inland. There the
trees are from twenty to thirty or forty feet high, and six
to ten inches in diameter at their bases. These trees are trimmed,
then formed into rafts and towed down to the stage-head of the
dwelling for which they are intended. As all this requires labor,
the wood becomes correspondingly valuable. It is generally
kept by being piled with the butt ends resting upon the ground,
and the smaller ends resting upon each other in the air, like the
ends of the poles of an Indian mishwap. At Bonne Esperance
the wood is nearly all so piled ; it would thus be easily undermined,
and probably all lost if carried away by the tide. Hurricanes are
no respecters of woodpiles, and we expected each moment that it
would be necessary to brave the tempest and rush out and lash the
pile lest the waves should carry it bodily away.
About four o'clock the tide turned, but the wind had increased
rather than diminished ; and blow it did; hard and strong, fierce and
186 STORM INCREASING.
cold ; the clouds were as thick and dark as ever. An occasional
flurry of snow came down, and the scattering raindrops began to
freeze as they fell ; it was hard to find standing places where the
ground was not frozen and treacherous. The wind had also drifted
the snow, into ridges and drifts of uncomfortable depth, though,
thank fortune, the cold had hardened the crust so that one could
readily walk upon it, could he once gain a foothold ; thus with
ice, glare, and drifts it was nearly impossible to face the wind that
whistled and blew so terribly. The temperature by this time went
rapidly downward, until about dusk it reached 18° above zero, —
not very cold for this region, but just in the beginning of winter
cold enough to freeze everything liquid that presented its surface
to the air.
The wind continued to blow, fiercely and more fiercely, long
after the dark heavy clouds had shut out what glimpses of daylight
remained struggling faintly with the approaching night; and we
could hear the howling and roaring of the tempest without, as the
mingled sissing and whistling of the wind combined with the
crashing and the thrashing of the waves against the shores, and the
thug ! thug ! of the broadsides of water that fell upon the rocky
beach. It was a fearful night. Any other than a strong, well built
house would have with difficulty stood against the tempest ; and,
believe me, there was very little sleeping done that night.
Monday the 22d. The storm is not yet over. We awoke this
morning and found the same war of elements to whose music we
listened as we sank to sleep last night. I had the pleasure of wit-
nessing this morning, and in fact throughout the day, a sight that I
shall not probably see again soon. The sea in all its rage and
power, lashed by the wind and augmented by the tide, vents its
fury upon itself. Huge ridges of wave press forward like an army ;
suddenly each end concentrates its waters toward the centre of the
ridge and with a grand onward, upward rush sends up a huge mass
of spray and white foam which still shoots upward in smaller angry
sprays and jets, while the mass of wave below sinks down into the
water, or boldly crashes or tumbles over itself as it splashes on
SITUATION OF STAGE-HEAD. 137
the water in front of it, — an angry sea, lashing itself into foam-
covered patches here and there, and everywhere, as far as the
eye can reach.
It is next to impossible to do justice to a tempest on these Lab-
rador shores. While on our own coast at home I have seen
presented a truly magnificent sight, when a storm sent long ridges
of foaming and sparkling waves, with their watery foam-bearing
crests towering up ten, fifteen, or even twenty feet into the air,
following each other with regular step, beating at length upon
the sandy and often rocky shore with quick splashes, that sent the
foaming and watery masses high up on a beach extending miles
in uninterrupted distance in either direction, and felt that I
could go home and tell of a storm at sea, and of its fierceness,
grandeur, and magnificence. — yet the memory of such a scene
is of little account in comparison to that which I shall now
describe, and which I not only saw and felt, but that those
around me who have witnessed the terrors of a tempest upon
these shores not only saw but felt, and which you will soon see
they have cause to remember.
Bonne Esperance island, where we are at present, is a small
island not more than two miles in circumference. It contains two
small elevations, one or two small ponds of water, and is separated
on the north and northwest by a narrow band of water from the
mainland. On the western side of the island are the stage, and
the several buildings connected with the fishery department which
reach to the water's edge, extending from this backward towards the
path. A board walk extends up the embankment to the level above
where the fish flakes are spread; back of these are sheds and
outhouses, while a descending slope brings you, a little to the
left, to the house which is nearly on a level with high tide mark in
front, and which looks directly out upon the waters of this little
bay-like inclosure, thence to the waters of the open ocean. On a
perfectly clear day the highlands of Newfoundland can be seen
fifteen miles directly east. Close in-shore the island is one mass of
rocks. Sometimes low, but broadly rounded tops of bowlders show
138 GRAND BUT TERRIBLE SCENE.
themselves, while on the southeast a low, receding cliff receives
the force of the waves in this direction. Just beyond the house is
a small sandy depression called salt-water pond, since it is filled
with salt water at high tide only. All these peculiarities of the
locality are seen at a glance from the front doorstep, and the porch
itself is only a few rods from highest tide marks. In this out-of-
the-world region, this bleak, cold, desolate Labrador, over a thou-
sand miles from home, I am spending the winter. On this morn-
ing, in this terrible weather, while still uncertain as to that which
may follow, I stand and gaze upon a Labrador hurricane. On this
little island I am far enough from land to get all the benefits of the
raging ocean, to see its whirlpools and billows, and watch its
majestic, towering columns of water as they rise and break in all
possible shapes to the right, the left, and in front of me. It is,
however, sufficient ; I shall remember the sight for the rest of my
life. While I cannot do justice to the scene I can only add my
own feeble expressions of the terrific violence and the awful grand-
eur of this day's scene as it stands pictured on my mind. The whole
sea in commotion, actually stirred to its very depths, and break-
ing into foaming masses, in places where in calm the depth
was thirty and even forty feet ; and you could even see the water
black with mud from the clayey bottom, of frequent occurrence here.
From a short distance seaward, a long line of undulating wave
quickly forms, increasing till its crest is a sheet of foam, while
the wave itself breaks up into smaller masses some of which sink
into the waters below, and forming sort of pits or whirlpools are
lost in a well-like abyss, while others raise themselves again high in
the air and shower forth spray like the jets of a Parisian fountain.
Each successive wave thus turns and twists itself into the utmost
variety of forms and shapes, while wave succeeds wave with the
greatest rapidity.
The narrow islets in the distance beyond are but playthings for
the waves, and huge billows roll completely over the lower ones,
while white spray tosses itself from one side to the other of the higher
yet still low crests. It seemed as if the waves on either side of these
STORM CONTINUES. 139
heights delighted to show their mighty strength, while they vied
with each other in throwing their spray over them and into the
sea beyond. Now all the rocks and points of land, of which there
are many jutting out into the sea on either side, are in turn covered
with a mass of foam and white- capped spray, while the water
rebounds high into the air fifty or a hundred feet at least ; some-
times it breaks over the rocks with a report like thunder, sending
long sheets of glistening spray vertically forwards. All these varied
scenes we beheld in one moment, and almost at a single glance,
and more beside. The wind, the rain, the blinding sleet or snow ; the
dark heavens, and still darker horizon ; the foaming, seething, and
hurrying, the turning and twisting masses of mad, white, frothy,
granular (for I can think of no other word to express the peculiar
effects of light spray upon a darker ground of water) watery crests
that rise and fall, or cover the whole surface of the water as far as
the eye can reach, are all seen in a moment. No pen can do
justice to the terrific grandeur of the scene ; no picture can give a
real impression of its awfulness. My memory can scarcely retain
the thoughts that the moment or moments (for the storm thus
continued without respite all day) inspired. And yet I have not
told all.
To have simply witnessed a storm of this description, and known
that it could do damage to any of our property, would in
itself have been a sight to have recalled continually in after life.
Remembering the care and pains taken to save everything useful
in this out-of-the-world region, the expense of transportation, and
the real value of any little improvement when once made, you
can go with me to another part of the island, not far distant, and
look with renewed awe upon the destruction going on there.
Struggling fiercely against the wind, just before the additional dusk
of evening set in, we hurry down the little hill at the west to the
stage-head and wharf, to see if all is safe there. Three weeks ago
to-day the Edward Cardwell was wrecked, as I have before des-
cribed, and the cargo of huge oak, pine, and other varieties of
wood logs, beside deal boards, scattered far and wide along the
140 FOREBODINGS.
coast. The gentleman with whom I tarried (Wm. W. H. Whiteley),
finding that he could dispose of them to good advantage, sent out
boats to pick up all that they could find, while he offered to purchase
for cash, or trade from the little shop of provisions and dry goods,
of all those who should bring him either logs or boards. In this
way he gathered a large lot of lumber. The huge logs had been
hauled above a supposable high water mark — for this heavy pine
and oak timber requires a dozen men to remove a single log — and
been allowed to accumulate on all sides about the stage-head,
which was thus closely hemmed in with these solid timbers, many
of which were eighteen inches in breadth and width, and forty to
fifty-four feet in length. There they had lain, rising and falling
lazily at the highest tide only, for the past two weeks. The stage
head, of which I have spoken, is a sort of shed built out into
the water upon logs that inclose huge masses of stones to weight
the platform and hold it in place, while the main building is propped
up with upright posts, buried some distance in the earth and mud
below, supporting the flooring at a distance of some eight feet from
the bottom at low tide.
At the stage-head the boats are fastened, and here the fish are
cured and packed ; here are a great majority of the other stores of
the fishermen, — the boats are housed for the winter inside the
building ; while barrels of fish, flour, and hogsheads of cod oil,
with all sorts of implements and utensils are stored also. There is
often a second stage separated by a platform from the first, on
which platform are stored boards and plank of various kinds,
hogsheads empty or full of refuse cod liver, or blubber as it is
termed, while the stage house itself stands farther back, the platform
with its railing being nearest the sea. While all this hurricane is
raging, and while it is almost impossible to walk ahead a dozen
steps, it seems proper to "take a look at the stage" to see that all
is right there ; and what do we see ? In this little sort of natural
harbor the waves are stirred with almost the force that they are in
the open sea, while the water breaks to the bottom in huge billows
which, lifting themselves in their fury, rush forward and hurl them-
DESTRUCTION. HI
selves on the jam of logs that I have mentioned as lying all
around the stage ; the logs are gradually breaking loose and drifting
about at the mercy of the billows. It is spring tide, the water is at
its height, and we are powerless but to stand and watch the scene,
while ten or fifteen huge logs are dancing about as if they were
playthings. Now the water breaks over both stage-heads, making
it impossible for one to rescue the provision and other material there
stored. The foam flies in blinding sheets over boards, barrels, and
hogsheads (or puncheons as they are here styled) alike ; it dashes
against the sides of the stage house, and freezes in heavy masses
wherever it touches. The wind whistles, or rather hurries past us for
it flies too swiftly to whistle, and still we can only watch the scene.
Soon the logs are nearly all loose from their moorings ; we watch
the waves as they catch them and hurl them with terrific violence
against the slender underpinning of the stage house, — which but
for this gale would have been sufficiently tight to have stood all
ordinary weather during the winter — and crush down the foundation
posts as if they were small sticks. Crash follows swiftly after crash.
A dull thug, and the farther part of the stage house falls, roof
and sides, upon the precious stores contained within, while the
inner edge of the platform, thus loosened of its foundation posts,
sinks several feet. The topmost crests of the waves sweep over
the whole, though not with sufficient force to carry anything away.
Over this slippery mass it is impossible for one to think of walking
for an instant. We rush for the inside of the stage, after opening
the large outer doors at the end, and are appalled to find half the
flooring already swept away and the large new boats balancing on
the edge of a slender support that threatens to give way and
engulf them instantly. There were four of these boats, each one
worth at least one hundred dollars, and had they been carried
away, it would have been a great loss and one not easily replaced.
As it is we are in time to save them, and do so at great risk.
While doing this another crash comes — for the logs are still being
hurled against the underpinning of the stage house, though their
number and clustered weight now hinder what otherwise one or
142 STAGE GIVES WAY — CALM.
two logs might have easily accomplished, in the destruction of this
with also perhaps that of the other stage entirely — and another
part of the stage and platform, thus undermined, falls. We rush
outside and are just in time to see the water lift it with its waves ;
to see the platform bend lower and lower until, with a final crack,
it parts, and hurls barrels and boards upon the rising crests of
the billows surging upward to receive them. Powerless to hinder
it we see several barrels of fish, and five barrels of flour of another
man — who could ill afford the loss — go towing about with the logs
on the watery billows, mingled with boards and debris of hay, chips,
and all sorts of material swept clean off the stage. Presently two
logs catch one of the barrels of flour between them ; opening for
a moment they come together again with a crash, the barrel is
burst in an instant, and a cloud of flour flies in all directions,
while cakes of dough go floating off on the waves. Three barrels
of flour and several of fish are speedily disposed of; one apparently
sinks bodily as it disappears and is not seen afterwards, while but
one is saved whole and another in part. But unless the storm
increases the remaining damage will be slight, and we return to the
house. During this gale, to-day, the barometer went down to the
lowest that some twenty years of readings have given it upon this part
of the coast, reaching 27.32 ; the thermometer 19°, and the wind
still southwest varying to north. At length night comes, and we go
to sleep again listening to the roar of the tempest, which, however,
shows signs of abating ; still we are anxious for the morrow.
Tuesday the 23d. Our hopes have not deceived us, and this
morning we awake to find the tempest moderated to such an extent
that we can calmly view the extent of last night's disaster. The
waters are comparatively calm, though they still toss about the logs,
boards, and miscellaneous pieces of wood that have gathered upon
its surface ; chips and debris are floating about on all sides matting
the surface of the water like a carpet which undulates with the motion
of the waves beneath. The further end of the stage house has fallen
in a mass upon the stage-head, which has lost the greater part of
its underpinning and part of its platform ; while the right hand
AN ICE SCENE — STORM ENDS. 143
floor, inside the building, has fallen out entirely, — it is a wonder
what has kept the whole building from going. Great masses of ice
cover the ruins; the sides of the stage house that still remain
standing are covered with sheets of heavy frozen matter, while huge
blocks of icicles hang from the edge of the roof. The railings of
the stage beyond hang with icy masses that fall in solid sheets
nearly to the ground. Everything seems covered with this dull,
opaque, heavy saltwater ice. We see before us a sea of frozen,
wooden matter. We spend all the day in cleaning and clearing
away, and in trying to find the extent of the damage done ; in
relaying the broken foundations, strengthening the beams, raising
the broken and bending, though not yet fallen, portions of the
platform, and in general repairs. Night finds us more cheery, and
sanguine that one or two more days' work will right matters again.
Wednesday the 24th. To-day the storm is fully over, and the
men have labored hard at clearing away the rubbish, and once
more righting things. The wind has been mostly from the north.
The water has calmed down once more, its surface stirred only by
the low, long lines of wave that occasionally advance and break
upon the shoreline everywhere around the island ; the whole water
is still colored a dark clay green, an evidence that at this point the
sea had been stirred to its very depths. The magistrate says that
he has never seen it of so intense a color during the twenty years
he has resided on the coast. Everywhere upon the shore are clams
and mussels, shells of many different varieties, starfish, echini, and
holothurians of many kinds, besides innumerable other species of
sea dwelling animals. The beaches were everywhere literally cov-
ered with these treasures of the deep, while the children brought them
home by the armful. Beautifully colored starfish, some of them
immense fellows a foot or more from end to end of arms, and
brown, red, and gray, both light colored and dark, all told of an
unusual commotion in the elements of both air and sea. By
this time the sky had regained its usual and natural hue of hazy
blue, with scarce a cloud save in the far horizon where a dull, heavy
shadow of the hurricane hung like a ghost or ghoul that seemed
144 THANKSGIVING DAY IN EARNEST.
slowly to sink lower and lower, while it grew fainter and fainter, soon
disappearing entirely in the distance and leaving us once more
a fresh, free sort of feeling that, perfectly natural to the region,
seems to defy ennui.
Thursday the 25th. Alas ! that I should be obliged to spend
such a day in such a place. I shall hardly dare to suggest to you
that it is Thanksgiving Day, but here I am in an English province,
beyond the American frontier, where Americans seldom go, to say
nothing of carrying their holidays with them ; in a land, the
people of which are too poor to celebrate to any great extent
should they ever feel inclined, while living too far away to pass the
time in complimentary calls ; in families, whose chief diet through-
out the year consists of bread, without any butter, and tea, with-
out any sugar, — excepting what game may fortunately be cap-
tured ; where breakfast, dinner, and supper are the same ; in such
a locality, though with the better class of residents, I pass my
Thanksgiving. That I may not think myself worse off even than I
really am, I cut a slice of cold roast pork, and imagine it the best of
turkey ; another slice answers for chicken ; while a third stands
equally well for mince pie. I then start for the woodpile where
I work off the effects of so hearty an exercise, as the eating of all
these delicacies, by sawing wood for the remainder of the after-
noon. Thus ends a Labrador, New England Thanksgiving.
During the remaining days of the month nothing particular has
happened save that the goodman of the house where I am stop-
ping has been in bed sick. The first of the month, however, finds
him much improved.
Wednesday, December i . Although it is very cold the bay shows
no signs of freezing yet. These winter evenings the children amuse
themselves with games. Many of our New England and other games
find favor, though dominoes seems to take precedence of all
others. Checkers are played quite frequently. Of course cards are
the prevailing game along the coast, and the old "stand-bys" seem
to be "high low Jack" and "forty-five," the latter being apparently
a characteristic Newfoundland game, as Newfoundlanders indulge
THE "KOMATIK." 145
in it at all times of the night or day, and are apparently never too
tired to play when they can "form a hand," and
"When once agoing,
With pipes aglowing,
They sit it out till morning."
Thursday the 2d. The boys and young fellows harnessed the
dogs for the first time to-night, but did not use them much. As
I have a few hours to spare I will try to describe here the komatik
or dog sledge and its use, as also the racket or snow shoe of this
region.
In winter the greater part of the travelling is done in one of two
ways : either on sledges called "komatiks," drawn by dogs, or on
large pads that are called " racquets," and which are worn upon
the feet. As each of these requires a special description, I will
try to give one.
The komatik, as has been said, is a sort of sledge or sled, and
looks very much like a magnified specimen of one of those latter
articles. Its dimensions vary from nine to thirteen feet in length,
from two to three feet in width, and it stands about eight inches
from the ground. The wood is wholly pine, and the side bars are
cut out of thin deal-board, planed down to about one or rarely two
inches in thickness, with the front ends turned up like the front run-
ner of a sled ; the sides are often bevelled so that the bottom is
one-fourth or one-half an inch wider than the top. The upper part
of the sled is made of a number of thin pieces of wood (usually
thirty-two) of equal length and about four inches in width, with the
ends rounded, and then notched — for a purpose that will appear
hereafter. The top and bottom pieces are similar, but of double
the width, while the thickness of all is about the same, generally
one-half an inch, though the end pieces are perhaps a little the
thicker. Each piece has two pair of holes bored through it on
either end, the distance between each pair being that of the width
of the top of the side bar, and the distance between each hole of
each pair about half an inch ; between each pair it is then gouged
out crosswise about one-fourth of an inch deep, while the inner
10
146 HOW THE KOMATIK IS MADE.
pair is recrossed at right angles by another gouge, the purpose of
which will soon be seen. A curious fact is that all these holes are
bored out with a red hot iron to make them smooth and even. On
the side bars, at a regular and previously measured distance apart,
are bored holes to the exact number of the crossbars. The holes
are bored, one a little above, and the next a little below the pre-
ceding one, so that when done the whole presents two unequal
rows as here shown, .•.•.•.•.'.•.•. hence the liability
of thus splitting the soft pine in the sewing process is lessened.
The next work is sewing the parts together : for this a coarse
salmon net twine is threaded into a needle used for the pur-
pose, and each crossbar is sewed into the corresponding hole
in the side bar, in and out of the holes on either side of the bar
itself, and drawn as tight as possible ; the needle then slips under
the twine through the groove across the inner pair of holes, and a
loop and a stout pull fasten it ; thus each bar is sewed on till all
are tight, — but we have not yet finished. The forward end of
each side bar must be strengthened by a long, thin iron placed
lengthwise along the inner side of each bar (this is the usual and
best way of strengthening the ends), and screwed tight to the
boards. Then come the shoes.
Every komatik has shoes or runners as do our sleds, but unlike
them they are of whalebone. Whales are so often found dead
on different parts of the coast and towed to some harbor where the
flesh is cut up for the dogs, and the bones saved for various pur-
poses, that the large rib-bones have become a regular article of
commerce among the people ; the bones are some eight or ten
feet long and nearly or quite a foot wide, with perhaps two inches
of thickness. These bones are obtained, then strips the full
length and an inch and a half wide are sawed off, and being
trimmed they answer perfectly for runners. With a gimlet, holes
are bored through them about six inches apart, and they are fas-
tened to the bar, which is also bored into, to correspond, by small
pointed wooden pegs driven tightly down ; the knobs of the pegs
are then sawed off, and the sides of the runners, if they overlap,
HARNESSING THE DOGS. 147
are pared and the bottoms planed smooth. From the forward
end of the bone a small portion of each runner is trimmed down
thin almost to the board, and to this a piece of hoop iron is fas-
tened which is brought around over the point of the bar and cut off
close to the first crossbar; it is then pegged, through holes, or
screwed down. This part of the bar never touches the ground,
being curved slightly upward ; then with a hole through each side bar
at the end, like our sleds, through which to pass a rope if needed,
and with a plentiful supply of paint, our komatik is complete.
A komatik is drawn by harnessed dogs, and it is a strange sight
to see one of these hobgoblin, arctic turnouts travelling at a smart
pace over the ice and snow of the frozen bays from place to place,
and watch the eight, seven, to even three or two dogs, attached to
the sled by a long thin thong only, trotting or galloping along
many rods in front. You would hardly believe, at first sight, that
the two belonged together, but rather that some fairy means of con-
veyance had suddenly dropped from above, or appeared from an un-
seen corner below, and was travelling off on some mysterious Arabian
Night's adventure ; and truly, the snow-capped hills, the icy and snowy
plain of frozen sea, add to this not unpleasant romantic delusion.
A close inspection will show that each dog is encased with a thin,
narrow band harness that simply goes around the body at the belly,
with another piece going around the neck and around and between
the legs, which is fastened to the former beneath ; on the top of each
a long band reaching to the length of several rods follows on be-
hind with a loop at the very end. Each dog is thus harnessed.
The komatik also has a band fastened near the front crossbar by holes
in the runner, and buttoned together with a loop and an angular
button. The loop on the end of each long dog band is passed
over the button of this komatik band, the button fastened in the slit,
and the team is ready. One dog is always fastened some distance in
front of the others and is styled the leader ; the others are fastened
at various distances apart, but always many rods in advance of the
sled. The team is guided usually by the voice, with or without a
whip of the Esquimaux make or pattern, many yards in length on
148 STRUCTURE OF THE HARNESS.
a short handle ; with a circle of thick rope to throw over the run-
ners and impede the progress of the sled in case of accident or sud-
den desire to stop, and which is called a drag ; and a long stick
with which to pound and sound the surface of the ice to see if it
be safe to cross in doubtful places, the team is ready to start.
One would think that such narrow bands as these of which the har-
nesses are made would be easily broken ; but though the width is sel-
dom three-eighths of an inch, the sealskin, of which they are made,
is so tough, stout, and unyielding, that they will wear rather than
break apart. A trace, as it is called, is often seventy or more feet
long ; and when you consider that a large muscular dog is either
dashing forward in short, quiet leaps, or straining his utmost to
draw a komatik on which a load of eight hundred pounds and over is
often fastened (three barrels of flour and other things being often
taken at a load), you can judge somewhat of the strength of these
thongs. If the going is bad the strain is in all probability more than
doubled. I have said before that the thong wears rather than
breaks, and when it does give way it is more often by the weak-
ness of some closely thinned place or the rotting of some portion
of the trace than by any other means. Sealskin thong is used every-
where for rope, when it can be procured, for tying or binding. No
wonder that the old legends, which till now I had regarded as such
in reality, were more than true, when Indians bound their captives
to trees quickly with deerskin bands (for deerskin is nearly as tough
as sealskin, though it perhaps gives more easily), which it was
impossible for them to break. The quickest and easiest to make,
yet surest tie is called a double half-hitch ; the rope is doubled
over itself in two loops with both ends projecting from the inner
side of the loop. It is made in about three seconds, and the more
one tries to stretch it the tighter it becomes, especially if the cut
ends are fastened to some object behind or even to themselves.
But the dogs (these wretched half-breed of Esquimaux and wolf
perhaps, that spend the greater part of their time in fighting each-
other, to whom play is fight and fight death, and I do not exag-
gerate these brutal furies) have started, and the footmen follow.
x THE RACKET OR "RACQUET." 149
The foot, as I have said, is encased with a pad called a
" racquet." It is a bent bow of wood with two crossbars, the in-
tervening spaces being thickly woven of deerskin thong, except a
small opening where the toe goes, and which is below the middle
of the upper bar. There are great varieties of form, called usually
from some fancied resemblance to the tail of an animal. The
beaver, the otter, the porcupine, and the bobtailed rackets are used
perhaps more frequently than any others about this coast, though
the long racket is used throughout many of the Canadian prov-
inces.
In walking one takes the usual step, though perhaps a longer
one than otherwise, having the feet much farther apart, and in the
walking position the convex portion of the top part of the racket
of the hind foot fits almost exactly into the concave portion of the
bottom part of the racket of the front foot. In stepping, the
wide part of each pad passes over that of the other; you will
thus easily see that in hurried walking, if each step does not at first
clear the racket of the other foot, it is impossible to take a step
with that foot which thus sustains the whole weight of the body,
and the impetus given to the body invariably plunges one down
into the snow. With the swinging motion necessitated by the
unusual space between the feet, a. little practice soon accustoms
one to walking easily over the lightest and deepest snow if it be
dry, as it usually is here, and not wet and sloppy.
A short time since the dogs were ready to start off on a journey
or trip with their master or driver ; and now several strong men
without stooping, and with a motion peculiar to habit from long
practice, drop their rackets upon the ground and adjust their feet
in them, — now both start together for the trip. The going is not
very good for the sledge, and the runners cut deep ruts in the snow,
already upon the ground to the depth of over a foot on a level,
as it is slowly passed over. The dogs travel with difficulty, and
need constant urging from their driver who keeps up a continual
shouting and crying out at them.
A string of a dozen or more rapidly repeated words which sound
150 HOW TO DRIVE THE DOGS.
more like a series of hi, hi, hi, hi, etc., or ki, i, i, i, /, etc., sends the
troop off at a quick pace, while the leader is easily turned to the
left by a series of sounds, of which either rudder, rudder, rudder,
or da, da, da, da, da, or udder, udder, udder, udder, seems to be
the only interpretation (I have found no one yet that can tell me
the exact word used) ; and to the right, by another sound like
ouk, ouk, ouk, or owk, owk, owk, repeated in a hollow, guttural
tone. These are the regular sounds for guiding the leader, while
a continual shouting or clapping of hands and a variety of any
small words are poured forth till one would easily imagine the
driver to have seriously shouted himself hoarse. If any object
appears in the distance, this too is a theme for the urging forward
of the dogs, who seem to go well enough without all this noise.
A crow flying close along the ground, and a komatik in the distance
share alike the o-look1, o-look (which is grunted rather than spoken
out), crow, crow, or caw, caw, caw, or komatik, komatik, komatik,
to which is often appended a single shrill hi. Whether the dogs
need this constant urging, or whether it be a custom that seems
to have been handed down or not, I cannot conceive. Mean-
while the men who are walking have nearly or quite kept up with
the sled. The long strides enable one easily to double the ordinary
walk of a person, so those behind have kept quite near. On they
both go — the dogs at a smart trot which occasionally breaks into
a gallop, and the men who present a truly comical appearance as
they press forward swinging their legs with their huge appendages
and their arms, occasionally their whole bodies, with the violence of
the exercise. The wind, which blows the light snow on the top
of the thick crust of the late storm in whirls and clouds all about
them, sings around their ears and faces, making the one tingle,
though encased in a warm covering, and the other ruddy with the
glow of health. It is foolishness for one to venture off in such
weather, as is here of every-day occurrence, without a sufficient
amount of good thick and warm clothing ; and even the dogs seem
to be provided by nature with an unusually thick coat of long flow-
A "TRIP." 151
ing hair as their best protection from the severe cold liable to occur
here at almost any time with a few hours' notice.
A journey of six to ten miles brings them to their destination,
and then a halt is made. The trip may be simply to a neigh-
bor for some visit, or to borrow or return some loaned article,
or it may be to the provision depot for a supply of goods or
articles for the use of the family. The molasses keg needs re-
filling or the tea chest is empty, perhaps the butter is all gone, or
soap, matches, or broken dishes need replacing with new supplies.
Often the men are out of tobacco which, to them at least, is a neces-
sary article, when the greater portion of the time is occupied in
filling the room with volumes of deep blue smoke while assembled
around a (almost literally) blazing hot stove telling stories or
silently enjoying the smoke and passing time away. It may be
that the housewife needs a new dress, or the children extra cloth-
ing, while often warm shirts and mittens of swanskin are to be
procured for both. At any rate the articles are obtained, often, I
am sorry (for the families' sake) to say, on credit of next year's
" ketch" of fish, and the little party turns toward home again, which
is soon reached, as are also the warm fire, the hot supper, and bed.
152 A TRAMP.
CHAPTER X.
Trip up the River to the Mission — Ice pictures — Bad walking — On the
Old Fort — New scenes and bad walking — Pleasant Sunday — The
return — Journal — A komatik ride — Christmas gathering — Wood cut-
ting— Work for the evenings — Making sealskin boots, mittens, and
other needful and fancy work.
Saturday the 4th. With one of the men I started to-day on a
tramp up the river to the Mission station, about seven miles dis-
tant. It seemed good to be on the move once again, although we
got much more of it than we had expected before the day was
ended. The river was frozen but a part of the distance, so we
were obliged to go by boat to the land at its mouth. It did not
take long, however, to get the boat ready, and we were soon
on our way. At first we rowed through the soft masses of ice that
coated the water everywhere around the north side of the island,
but finding this passage closed with ice too thick for our boat to
break, we retraced our way, and, fortunately, found the passage on
the other side clear all the distance to the land on the opposite
side of the bay. The ice that seriously impedes passage at this
season of the year is called here slob. It is a thick, consistent
mass of frozen salt-water that lies in huge patches all over the sur-
face of the water from land to land. While in this soft condition
it is easily rowed through \ but the danger is, that, as the cold
strengthens at any time of the day or night, it is liable to congeal
suddenly, even at a few moments' warning, when it grows harder
and thicker every hour. If a boat is within it, the congealed
mass has at times been known to surround it so as to prevent es-
cape. The mass is thus too hard to allow the men to rescue their
MAGNIFICENT SCENERY. 153
heavy boat, and too soft to walk upon. The whole sheet, mean-
while, cracked from the edge on either side, slowly but surely
moves with the current until it is gradually taken out to sea to
be lost in the gulf or ocean. Judge then the fate of those unfor-
tunate beings who have remained in the boat, thus inclosed, mov-
ing only when it moves, halting only when it halts.
The passage on the west side of the island, as I have said, was
fortunately clear, so that we gained the opposite side of the bay
without accident or delay. This left us half-way to our place of
destination, the remainder to be tramped over the hills, with snow
knee-deep to opposite the houses, to which we must get by shouting
for a boat to come and take us over should the water between
be open, as we had reason to fear. Having called at a house
of one of the inhabitants near by to deliver some messages, we
returned and began our walk, or rather tramp, over the partially
frozen ice of the river at this point and towards the hills beyond,
over which we were obliged to travel.
I have read, in books of arctic travel, of snow-capped hills and
of snow-filled valleys ; of rivers and bays frozen over with dark,
semi-transparent salt-water ice, but never before had I experienced
the pleasure of beholding its reality. Now I saw them in all the
half-frozen splendor of a semi-arctic latitude. I could also tramp
over their treacherous surfaces with a feeling of perfect safety
knowing that the distance to the houses up the river was not far.
The walking was by no means easy. We first crossed the river
on the ice which at this point was sufficiently strong to bear us.
The ice was not very solid, and big holes and huge cracks were
to be seen everywhere about us, so that it required a great deal of
manoeuvring to find secure footing and a safe passage between
them. We would walk along safely enough for some distance,
and then the dark colored patches of water, seen on the surface
of the snow, would show us where the dangerous places were ;
then again the ice contained large cracks, and we were obliged to
prove its solidity with a stick before trusting our feet to step upon
it. Sometimes the ice would be as large floating cakes when
154 DIFFICULT WALKING.
we were compelled to jump swiftly to get safe from one to an-
other, each step sending the cake deep into the water beneath, so
that the person behind would be obliged to wait until it had re-
gained its position once again before attempting a similar passage.
Along the edges of the river the ice had formed and cracked
again, leaving the walking very dangerous as well as difficult ; this
often necessitated the climbing of long, steep, icy slopes before
gaining a secure footing. Then again the ice had formed over
beds of sharp rocks, often at high tide, and the water retreating
had undermined the support, when suddenly, while walking over
these, they would give way and we would fall often several feet
on the rocks below, making most treacherous as also dangerous
travelling. Again long open stretches of water would compel
us to go by the land, either around some inland pond or lac sale
(salt lake, as the people call these inlets of the sea, and of
which there are so many all along the coastline), or over some
low and narrow, or high strip of land to the river again. Some-
times we would crawl along the edge of some high and sloping,
or steep and rocky crest, often coming suddenly to the brink of a
precipitous height of twenty to thirty feet, where a single false
step would have sent us to the rocks or sharp ice below; or
perhaps we would suddenly sink to our armpits into some con-
cealed, snow-covered spruce thicket, from which we would ex-
tricate ourselves only with great difficulty.
From some high hilltop we could see lofty crests sloping to some
narrow or often perpendicular cut, through which the river, now
frozen and now with open glistening waters, ran towards the sea, a
distant maze on our south. A mile or so ahead we could see the
buildings, and the white church with its steeple, of the little Mission
station. Here are about a dozen buildings where many of the
families that live upon the islands outside in the summer, together
with the foreigners who conduct the school and Sunday church
services, pass their winter quite cosily and more or less merrily
in teaching and being taught.
It was a difficult tramp, but a delightful one. At length we
RESTING: THEN ON AGAIN. 165
reached a position on the hills directly opposite the houses on the
other bank. After a great deal of hallooing and shooting blank
discharges of powder from our guns, a boat started out from the
other side, and slowly approached us ; soon we were on the oppo-
site side and close beside a nice warm fire, drying our wet clothes
and partaking of the hospitality of a kind-hearted inhabitant of this
little settlement.
Here I found two young men who were destined for the same
point that I hoped to reach that night, so I decided to avail
myself of the opportunity and accompany them.
We first called on some of the inhabitants of the place, and
found them cordial and genial people, well meaning and hospitable
to strangers. I found myself invited to partake of bread and tea at
each place, and at last was obliged to refuse absolutely even the tea
which was thus generously pressed upon me, and which is the
beverage so abundantly partaken of all along this coast. At last
we had finished all our calls, for the present at least, and so we all
started for Old Fort Bay, seven miles distant across the river, the hills,
and several ponds. Since our journey presents a continuation of
the one I had just taken, except inland instead of along the di-
rect coast line, I will try to give you some idea of it.
The scenery here is very similar to that we had just witnessed,
with the same features of frozen river and lakes, and journeyings
over hills and snowy slopes ; but there was enough variety to
make the trip new and pleasant, rather than full of tedious mo-
notony.
We started on our journey by rounding the bend of the river
which had this year been frozen over earlier than usual, when we
came at once upon a long stretch of open ice. In this part of the
river, as in fact in any of these salt-water lake basins, the water usu-
ally freezes several times before it finally becomes caught on either
side. Each time it freezes, the soft ice loosens and goes floating down
the river ; thus several days of alternate freezing and open water
occur usually before the ice finally catches for the winter. Strange
to say, this year the ice caught and held the first time, and so> as
156 BETWEEN THE MISSION AND OLD FORT.
we were yet quite early in the season, we walked over a freshly
frozen yet perfectly solid surface in the direction in which we were
going.
We had hardly rounded the turn before one of the fellows,
whose eyes had in this case been sharpened by expectancy, espied
the fresh tracts of the ptarmigan in the snow of the left bank of
the river ; but of course the birds had long since gone. Un-
doubtedly they were not far off, though we had no time to hunt
them up. We continued our walk, therefore, enjoying the clear,
cool, and healthy air while drinking in the unusual sights, at least
to me, of hummocks and hillocks rising in the distance, one above
another, and stretching one beyond another, with varying gorges,
and again solid walls of granite, into the distance beyond. After
travelling an hour with such views constantly presented to us on
either hand, we passed a little ridge of ground and came to another
so-called lac sale, a bend in the river almost converted into a lake
by the stricture at its mouth. Passing over the frozen surface of
the lake we came to another ridge which, passed, brought us again
to water — this time a pond. A succession of two or three of
these ponds crossed by low, narrow ridges of rising ground brought
us to the head of the eastern arm of Old Fort Bay, which we
found barely frozen, and for the most part a terrible mixture of
broken ice, rocks, and water. We had great difficulty in getting
from the ice to the shore, as the cracks were large, and very wide ;
but we succeeded in doing so at last, when we found ourselves at
the foot of a large, heavy ridge of hills which extended for the
remainder of the distance between us and our destination, varying
from four to five hundred feet in height, and by no means easy to
ascend. Had it been high tide our way would have certainly led
over these hills, as their perpendicular faces towards the water
would have rendered walking in that direction entirely out of the
question ; while the way would have been picked out only with the
greatest of care in the dusk of evening, in which we would walk
among spruce thickets, over stones, and down steep declivities,
quite dangerous indeed in the daytime,
TREACHEROUS WALKING. 157
We had no boat by which we could row the short distance now
separating us from the house to which we were going. The tide was
dead low. On we went, the stones and corners of the rocks hurting
our feet — for we wore the dogskin boots of the Esquimaux, —
while the huge cakes of broken ice often caused us to stumble in
quite a hopeless manner. Again, in spite of the low tide, the
cliffs came almost down to the water, and we were frequently
obliged to wade in the water up to our knees and much above the
top of our boots, or climb over most dangerous places at the risk
of slipping down into the water beneath. To add to the dis-
agreeableness of our situation the darkness now became so dense
that we could scarcely see a couple of rods ahead ; and this was
what we termed luck being on our side against walking over the
tops of the high hills before mentioned ; but we stood it man-
fully, and at last reached the little basin just before the bend that
would bring us to the shore. Here the ice was quite fresh, being
formed from a little brook that runs into this natural or perhaps
artificial hollow. It was here so slippery that we could hardly
stand upon it, while the broken cakes made the walking almost
impossible. We stumbled and fell, then tried to climb up the
slippery inclines only to fall quite back again. I think that that
little distance of scarce a mile and a half, from the head of the
bay to the house to which we were going, cost me more severe
travelling and labor to attain, than any other similar trip that
I ever remember of taking in my life ; but we reached it at last.
It seems to me almost as if I could recollect each individual
step of the way, and sitting in a cosey chair by a large snapping
fire, I wondered how I had the strength to go through with it
after the twelve steady miles that I had already tramped since
morning, — and of such tramping ! To give an idea of how lit-
tle these strong, robust fellows think of such travelling, one of the
two men who had just come with us insisted upon returning after
tea with a young fellow whom we met here and who was going
that way. Seven o'clock at night and so dark that one could
hardly see a rod ahead ! over slippery ice on which one could
158 SUNDAY AT OLD FORT — THE RETURN.
scarcely stand much less walk, through water up to the knees,
crawling over ridges of rocks to fall from which would have been
indeed dangerous, then five miles more of steady tramping be-
fore reaching home. One may draw his own conclusions as to
the endurance of these men, as this is a fair sample of what they
will do every day for weeks at a time, while hunting, without any
apparent ill effects.
One may well imagine that I did full justice to the nice, hot
supper that was laid out before me, and was soon after snugly
tucked beneath a double covering of heavy blankets to seek the
rest so much needed.
Sunday, the next day, was most charming. The sun came out
bright and warm and we all enjoyed the beautiful weather. We
had some birds for dinner, the first we had had for several weeks.
After the meal, although it was Sunday, since the men must get
back to their work the next day, we all started for the river again.
The water had become so open that we accomplished the worst
part of the journey in a boat, and walked the remainder in com-
parative ease and with very little trouble, reaching the Mission
station by evening.
I will not say much regarding the Mission here, leaving that for
another place, as it is worthy of special consideration. I simply
called upon the genial people there, and enjoyed a short but very
pleasant interview.
I left a small stock of medicines at the Mission house, having
brought some with me from home, and soon started off. I saw
some poultry in one of the houses. They were barred up and
carefully fed upon scraps from the table. The hens furnished
a few eggs, and were apparently about the only specimens of
this species of fowl on this part of the coast. Strange as it may
be, on the lower part of the coast, some sixty miles below this
place, I found hens so abundant — having been brought over from
Newfoundland — that I purchased several dozen of eggs for the
reasonable sum of a shilling, or twenty cents, a dozen.
At the house of one of the inhabitants where we stopped to
JOURNAL — A KOMATIK RIDE. 169
visit, we found four Indians who had come from several hundred
miles in the interior, with their fall catch of fur to trade for provisions.
As they were journeying in the same direction with us, we pro-
ceeded on together. We started about ten o'clock in the forenoon
and, after a tedious tramp over the hills, reached the bend of the
river, found the boat, and were soon rowing the remaining distance
to Bonne Esperance where we arrived in time for supper.
Tuesday the 7th. The Indians, having finished their trading,
returned home this afternoon.
Saturday the nth. A small party went out in the boat to-day
and shot four ducks and a pigeon, which gave us a taste of fresh
meat once more.
Monday the 1 3th. The men spent a greater part of the day in
mending their fish-nets.
Tuesday the i4th. A flock of ducks appeared just off the
island, and we got a shot at them as they clustered, killing seven.
In the evening the young folks amused themselves making molasses
candy, while the elder people joined heartily with them in the
disposal of it.
Friday the i yth. The cow was killed to-day, and we had the first
taste of beef we had had for months.
Friday the 24th. Yesterday I again went "into the river," as it is
here called ; that is, went to the settlement up the river, and to-day,
the ice being regarded as safe, I had my first real ride on the Labra-
dor dog sledge, or komatik, with a native driver as guide. Our team
was a small one, only three dogs, but they drew the sled so fast
that it might have been twice the number and I not have known
it. Along the ice of the river and bays we glided, over low hills
and across snow patches, and over grass and moss laid bare by the
wind ; we went, literally, "over hill and dell," while we often passed
rapidly places flooded with water, where the delay of an instant
would have sunk the sledge. Now up some steep hill we helped
to pull the sled, while down on the opposite side we went
faster than the dogs could go at full gallop. On across the
country we went, until, landing upon the very verge of a high
160 CHRISTMAS EVENING.
precipice, we were obliged to come to a halt. Here we tied the
dogs, turned the sled bottom upwards, and descended the slope
by a narrow, circuitous path, which brought us to the house of
one of the residents, where we dined. We found here a very pleasant
family, two members of which had spent some time " in the States "
in good society; after enjoying with them a very pleasant chat,
we returned to the sled and continued our journey. I was amused
to see the eagerness of the dogs to be " on the go " once more.
They strained at their harnesses, and whined and barked while
jumping, with the evident intention of either starting the sled or
breaking their traces.
Our way to Old Fort Bay lay in much the same general direction
as that in which we had walked a few days before ; but the hills are
so cut up with gorges that come nearly to their base, that nature
has formed four different routes between the Mission and Old
Fort Bay. The scenery was quite similar, but riding we had more
of an opportunity to take in the arctic-like views everywhere pre-
sented. The day was fine, and the outline of the hills beyond
was very decided upon a clear blue sky. We appeared to be rush-
ing along through a narrow, winding valley road with receding
heights on either hand. On a level with us, yet on either side
near the base of the hills, the falling tide had caused the ice
to break in cones, and blocks of all sorts of forms and sizes.
Still on we went, the ice often bending beneath us, while the dogs
reminded one of childhood's fairy tales. The sight was grand,
while the weather was fine, cold, and with little wind. The inner bay
was frozen over, and we rode to the doorway of the dwelling for
which we had started.
Christmas evening there was a social gathering at one of the
houses up the river. About fifty people were present and passed
a very pleasant evening. In this case the old adage that "distance
lends enchantment to the view" was well illustrated. Most of the
inhabitants live at distances of five to ten miles from each other,
which makes calling upon one another a circumstance of some
importance. When once people do get out on such an occasion as
WOOD-CUTTING IN WINTER. 161
an annual Christmas dance, they stay long enough to enjoy the
visit thoroughly, — they did so on this occasion.
Wednesday the 29th. Early in the morning we started off with
our dog-team for the bottom of the bay. Here we tied the dogs,
and with our axes started up the snow-covered slope of the hills
to where the spruces and firs were abundant. None of the wood was
large. The snow was up to our knees ; it covered the evergreen
thickets with dense patches, so that when we started to cut a tree
the shaking would dislodge the snow in large patches that covered
us completely, while it slowly crept down our backs and up our
sleeves. Still on we labored until we had loaded the sledge, when
all started for home with appetites sharpened by the keen, sub-
arctic air and the healthy exercise. It was quite fortunate that we
procured our wood when we did, for Thursday was as warm as it
had been the night before, and the ice, so much melted, began to
break to such an extent as to render the travelling extremely
hazardous, though it soon froze up again.
During the long winter months the women of the house spend
their evenings, and for the most part their days also, in making
boots, shoes, and nicknacks of various kinds. Of course they
can do this, since their time is almost entirely at their own disposal,
and, after the regular work of the family is done, the remainder of
the day and evening falls heavily upon anyone of a naturally
nervous or industrious disposition. The location of the dwelling
forms another inducement to industry, since the long winter eve-
nings must be spent entirely within doors, and work of some
sort must be constantly provided.
It must be remembered that except in a few places, such as
the Mission and several small collections of houses used as winter
quarters and which have been built from a quarter to half a mile
distant from each other, the houses are, for the most part, miles
apart, and visiting in the evening is quite out of the question.
It is comparatively easy to point out the industrious portion
of the female population of the coast; everyone knows them.
To substitute fictitious names for real, Mrs. Goodey will make
11
162 MAKING SEALSKIN BOOTS.
fine Esquimaux sealskin boots, and will do other similar work,
though attention to her large family makes it impossible for her
to spare much of her time for outside work. Grannie Roberts is
also noted for her nice, careful sewing of boots, pouches, or
sealskin bags to wear on the back, in which to carry provisions,
game, or other articles that the hunters may require, while she takes
in such work as filling pillow cases and bed ticks, making hunting and
warm working jackets for winter, or mending socks, mittens, and
other articles for general use or wear. She is a good old lady,
and thought well of everywhere, while her work is always well
and cheaply done, and her nearly fourscore years combined with
her remarkable cheerfulness give her a good word from every-
body on the coast. Further to the westward work from Aunt
Jane's is known in all directions.
If I have described elsewhere a pair of native shoes, as they
are often called, a brief description of them here again may not
be out of place, since it is necessary to have a clear under-
standing of the process of making them. A good deal more
than at first appears to a purchaser depends upon every little point
in the operation. To begin, — suppose Grannie Roberts is to make
a pair of sealskin boots for some buyer. From a lot of sealskins
one is selected either from a harbor seal with the hair on, or a
large harp from which the hair has all been scraped off; in either
case the skin, to be the most serviceable, must be well scraped of
fat on the inside and dried for two or three months on some
frame on which it has been stretched to its fullest extent in the
sun, exposed on the woodpile or roof of the house (after the hair
has been taken off if a harp, and with the hair on if a harbor
seal) . These dry skins will not shrink, and for every purpose of
wear are infinitely better than the shoes, sold in large numbers,
made of quickly dried skins, sewed upon wooden forms, which
shrink and tear, while they soon wear useless. Out of them
the bootleg is cut, from a paper pattern of any kind the wearer
may choose. All, or nearly all, bottoms are cut from like patterns
to fit a foot of any shape, but invariably from the dried skin of
"NICE POINTS" OF THE WORK. 163
the harp seal, the dryer and older the better, since they stand more
wear the older they are. The pattern of the sole is an oblong
oval, while the tongue or top piece is more or less lance-shaped.
After soaking over night in water to soften it, the sole is taken
and the whole edge for about an inch and a half is bent inward,
then the toe is puckered in creases, as is also the heel, while the
tongue fits the space left after the bootleg is temporarily fastened on,
all the pieces overlapping enough to allow for sewing. These puck-
erings are made by simple creases of the needle at the time of
sewing. All seams are made — if the sewing is done in a scientific
manner, and not simply to "sell the boot," as the expression goes —
by the simple overlapping of the two pieces and sewing each edge
tightly to the part beneath, while the ridge thus made by the seam,
if rubbed with a piece of wood shoemaker fashion, will be hard and
shiny as well as very tight. In all sewing the skin is so thick that
the needle can be run through it and out the same side without
perforating the skin ; thus a seam admits no water through the
sewing, if the thread and overlapping pieces are drawn tight.
The upper edge of the bootleg has a doubled piece of cloth sewn
around its edge, though sometimes sealskin replaces it, through
which a piece of tape or braid of any color to suit the wearer,
about a yard and a half long, is threaded, and the skin, being quite
flexible when on the foot, is drawn tightly about the leg, the
braid wound about twice and tied with the string end hanging out-
ward ; this secures the boot firmly and yet not painfully to the foot
by the leg and, though the string often gets loose and the bootleg
often slips down, it seldom gives much trouble to the wearer.
A curious operation that might escape one's attention, as well as
a curious fact in connection with this operation, is that the pucker-
ings of the heel are held together by running two, three, or four
small threads at about equal distances from each other — the stitches
being taken through the bend in the creases on the inside of the
boot, from side to side, around the heel where they are drawn
tight and fastened to the seam above ; another fact is that the
creases of the toe are not thus fastened. Why the former should be
164 SELECTING SKINS. — PATCHING.
done and not the latter I cannot ascertain ; it would be a curious fact
to study into if one could spare the time. A proper sealskin for
bootlegs will cut from two to five pairs, according to the size of the
skin, — as the pattern for all adults is usually the same, — while a
proper skin for bottoms will fit six to eight pairs of boots. The
bottoms are not scraped, but the legs are scraped quite clear of the
vellum from the inside of the skin. A skin that is dried in the house
has a yellowish look while one dried out of doors in the sun is white
as parchment on the inside. Should it happen that a person's
feet are in the habit of sweating much, the whole inside of the
boot is rubbed with a tan made of birch rind, — but I do not
understand the exact philosophy of it. When one first purchases
a pair of boots they are generally quite dry ; they are then oiled
carefully with the hand, with seal oil, until every part is fully
lubricated, the inside is then rubbed on a stick with a polished
and nearly sharp edge, as is often done by shoemakers, in a certain
stage of their own bootmaking, to accomplish the same result, —
the operation is nearly similar to the manner in which pegs are
rubbed out of boots. After this operation they are hung in a warm
place near the fire until the oil has soaked into the skin when they
are ready to be worn, and if properly made will, with the roughest
wear over stones and ice, unless cut or otherwise unusually injured,
remain, with occasional reoilings, water-tight for at least two months.
At the end of about that time, the bottom or the heel is worn
through and the sole must be tapped, — this is done by simply cutting
out a piece of skin, round and the size of the whole heel if for
the heel, oblong and the size of the sole if for the sole, which
is then sewn on with a tightly drawn single thread from the
outside. Such a patched bottom will last a month or six weeks
longer and then the whole bottom gives way and is usually replaced
by a whole new piece from the ankle down.
All shoes are made substantially upon the same pattern ; while
for house wear the leg part is dispensed with and the bottom
extended upwards far enough to bind as a slipper or tie around the
ankle as a shoe. Such is Labrador and Esquimaux foot-gear as
MOCCASINS. 165
worn on the whole or nearly the whole coast. Their price varies
from poorly made boots at $2.00 to the best at $2.50 to $3.00 ;
while the scarcity of seals will sometimes render them even more
expensive. A dried sealskin for making boot bottoms averages
in price at $1.50. The bootleg is often made of dogskin similarly
dressed to the sealskin, but the same general character prevails in
all, however made. In winter the men usually wear moccasins
on their feet. These are generally made of dressed deerskin or
mooseskin, and worn by those on the coast who are fortunate enough
to have procured the skins either by purchase or trade, by their
own success in hunting, or, as is generally the case, directly from
the Indians. The process by which the skins are tanned in the best
manner seems to be kept a secret. A moccasin is generally made
in much the same manner as a boot bottom, and in place of the
leg is a simple binding of colored cloth doubled to allow a piece
of braid to be inserted which, tied, holds the moccasin to the
foot, while many are simply bound without strings. In some cases
a wide piece is sewed on to the top that may reach around the
ankle, while a loop on each side holds a strip of deerskin that
ties around the ankle holding the moccasin fast to the leg.
Moccasins are of endless patterns and varieties : some are like
slippers and very plainly made ; others are more carefully pre-
pared, by ornamenting the tongue with beads, colored cotton, or
porcupine quills wrought into figures, flowers, and forms of many
varieties. Very often the shoe is tanned and rendered quite brown
by this process. Sometimes the toes are pointed, the side fringed,
and many are the devices for varying the make and pattern so
that the taste of the purchaser may be gratified in his selection
of a pair. Deerskin moccasins are only worn on snow and in
snowy weather ; for being of a soft skin the slightest wet will at
once shrink and spoil them. The snow here often falls in large,
deep masses of a very dry nature, and only at this time these
shoes are worn, — but they are never worn alone; the universal
accompaniment is a pair of leggings made of thick swanskin,
which is a sort of very thick, woolly, cotton-like cloth in common
166 LEGGINGS. — VAMPS.
use here for all sorts of articles of warm wear. The legging answers
the purpose of a bootleg, and since it is only worn with the
moccasins in the snow serves remarkably well for that purpose.
Leggings, made either with a sock or without one, pull on the
legs over the pantaloons ; a loop often passing from side to side,
under the foot as in riding pants and patent hunting oilskin or
rubber breeches. The moccasin is then put on over the bottom
part of the legging, and the top secured by some bright braid as
before mentioned in the case of the boot. A little matter of pride
comes into notice here, — that is, the tasty bordering of the seam of
the legging, on either side, since the seam is always worn outward
and the braid tied with colored worsteds so that the ends hang
jauntily outward also. The whole outfit forms a very pretty fancy
piece, and reflects the good taste of the wearer.
Neither shoes, boots, nor moccasins, of a soft bottom, are ever
worn except with several pair of thick stockings and one or two pair
of swanskin vamps, as they are called ; these are simply cloth-like
slippers, and much resemble a stocking cut off just above the instep
with the edges bound or sewed over and over with worsted, and a
central flap an inch or two long from the middle of the front edge
in which is made a loop and by which the pair are looped and
fastened, the one to the other, when they are hung up to dry, as
they usually are every night. One can easily see that, compelled
as the people are to take long walks, the foot-gear must be, as it is,
very warm and protecting to the feet ; and yet, though at first sight
those skin coverings would seem cold and productive of cold feet
the reverse is so extraordinarily the case that one can stand in
water all day and not wet the feet, unless the boot is poorly made, or
stand on the ice in the coldest weather and seldom suffer from the
cold penetrating to the soles of the feet. The main difficulty is
the getting used to such "strange feeling shoes," and in walking over
small, loose, angular pebbles which are everywhere abundant on
the shore, large rocks giving little or no trouble at all. In summer
generally the smallest amount possible is worn on the foot.
Strange to say, sometimes sealskin bottoms are put on leather-
SEALSKIN MITTENS. — HATS. 167
topped boots. Often American and English boots and shoes, or
rubbers, are used, but these seldom in winter except on Sundays
or extraordinary occasions. In the house sealskin shoes, much
like a moccasin, are worn by the members of the family large and
small, almost without exception, while in warm weather the chil-
dren go barefooted.
The next most important articles of wear that the women make
are sealskin mittens. The sealskin mittens of the Esquimaux,
and those which are worn all along the coast, are articles probably
peculiar to this, as to other Arctic regions. The sealskin is the
same as that used for most articles of wear here, and must be remem-
bered as the harbor, not the Russian, Northwest, Alaskan hair seal.
The skin is dressed as usual, and the mittens made with the fur
outward. They are odd looking articles outside, while the inside
is at first quite tough and rough with the natural wrinkles of the
skin, caused by heat or dryness. These, like the boots, are worth
more if made of well rather than imperfectly cured skins. The
whole length of the mitten is from twelve to fourteen inches. The
top is quite wide while the rest of the mit narrows to the hand which
is made of a short, wide, rounded piece of skin sewed to the main
part of the mitten. It is a simple affair, and yet, like the boots,
when worn with ever so thin an extra covering inside, it is nearly
impervious to the cold. As a further protection there is a border
at the top consisting of a strip of muskrat, otter, or beaver skin,
with the fur outward, and from one to two inches wide. Though
somewhat clumsy, it is a rather pretty affair to look at, especially if
the pattern of the sealskin, as it often does, varies from silky ash to
almost black with roundish spots of ash black centred ; sometimes
a skin is nearly pure black (the hairs, silky at the tips only, reflect-
ing a delicate velvet) . The color of the skin and the curing seem
to sell the mits better than anything else, and a prettily spotted pair
is almost always chosen in preference to one plainly colored.
We have still to describe two articles of wear before our hunting
apparel is completed. First, the sealskin hat or cap : this is made
like an ordinary cap with a rather pointed crown (made of cornered
168 A "NUNNY BAG." — COSSACKS.
pieces of skin running from top to bottom), with ear flaps and
strings to tie beneath the chin. Secondly, a hunting or " nunny
bag" to sling over the shoulders and carry the provisions or any
articles of use or luggage : this, too, is entirely of sealskin make.
It is unnecessary to enter closely into the details of the work on
these articles as the sewing is usually of the same type in each
article as that on the seams of the bootlegs, while the style may
vary according to the taste of the person for whom they are made.
The nunny bag is a spacious bag, wider than high, with an immense
lapel. It is carried on the back between the shoulders, and se-
cured by bands which slip over the arms and rest on the shoulders.
As we have gone so far in the hunting or tramping dress of the
Labradorians, a short account of their other principal articles of
outside wear may not here be out of place. Of course the general
clothing in the winter months, whatever it may be, is of the warmest
possible kind ; the heaviest flannels are always used, and sometimes
several pair, while the cloth of which the coat and pantaloons are
made is as stout and thick as can be obtained. The men wear
cotton or perhaps a sort of duck overalls, and cossacks ; the former
need very little description being simply what I have named them,
and, worn over the pantaloons, are with them, tucked into the boots.
A cossack is a loose short jacket. It is made of swanskin, and
the long sleeves reach to the hand while the robe or hood for the
head is cornucopia-shaped, and fastened to the collar behind.
The binding is of calico. It is secured around the waist by a
scarf the ends of which hang to the left; or the belt holding
the hunting knife (an article always worn, concealed or open)
is simply strapped around the body.
A person attired in such an outfit as I have mentioned is warm
and well provided for almost any sort of weather that may come.
He is ready to meet the thermometer at 30° or even 40° below
zero, while by leaving off some of the flannel underwear he can
readily adapt himself to a warm day. Long tramps are thought
nothing of; hospitality, as I have said before, is extended to him
from every house upon the road ; hardships seem nothing ; while
VISITING THE TRAPS. — HUNTER'S CABIN. 169
he who endures the most, and speaks the least about it, soon
acquires the reputation which he has worked to earn, of a fellow
who will stand almost anything. The great occupation in winter
is visiting the traps and hunting. I might have placed these
occupations in exactly the reverse order but that more is secured
by trapping, hence the more important, than by hunting, which
usually furnishes only a temporary supply of game for the table, such
as partridges, rabbits, and in some cases deer. The partridges are
the ptarmigan, the spruce partridge, and rarely the sharp-tailed
grouse ; the two former being very abundant, while the latter is rare.
The various animals, except the porcupine, which is clubbed with
a stick, since its gait is so slow that it cannot run away from
one, though sometimes shot are more often trapped, and these
will be spoken of in another place. The deer-hunting forms
an occupation in itself. There are several cabins built near the
well-known deer hunting grounds in the interior of the country
some ten or twenty miles away, where parties, wishing to enjoy this
sport, and secure some fresh meat for the table, make their head-
quarters ; from here they take long tramps, and often shoot several
deer to a man in the course of a season. The cabins are very small
within, and some ten or twenty men will huddle together in this
confined place in the evening ( if the deer be unusually abundant
during the day) and spend their time smoking and playing cards.
A dingy little cabin scarcely larger than an ordinary room
sixteen by twenty feet in width, with a long bin-shaped bunk or
berth on each side, capable of holding six or eight men each,
as a sleeping apartment ; a stove in the middle of the room ; a
room full of tobacco smoke ; and the shouts and confused voices
of so many men, are anything but pleasant to one whose nerves
are at all delicately strung ; yet, as I have before said, these men
think nothing of hardships, being bred to them from childhood,
and though they often go forty miles a day looking for game,
over hills and down gorges of the most difficult walking, and
have started off early in the morning sometimes before light, go-
ing all day with only a taste of food, returning late in the evening,
170 "HOSSACS."
they will then spend the greater part of the remainder of the
night in revelling, with only a few hours of sleep between this
and another day of the same sort. Nor do I exaggerate a particle,
when I say that this life is continued sometimes a month at a time,
through all sorts of weather. Such is the life of these hardy people
in winter when they go out for a "good time;" and in summer,
during the fishing season, it is fully as bad ; but the people are,
for the most part, pleasant and friendly, and a stranger has no
cause to complain for want of being favored.
The fancy work in which the ladies indulge to a greater or less
extent, especially in the winter evenings, may be known as pouches,
pockets, " hossacs" watch cases, and sometimes cushions and a
variety of beadvvork of all sorts and patterns, — the latter being
mostly worked by Indian squaws, who, with the men, often live in
tents near the coast in the spring and summer time when they sell
all sorts of articles of their own manufacture and handiwork. While
watches are rare on the coast, the various patterns for watch cases,
of beadwork or cloth or on sealskin, are various and very pretty.
As I am writing I have one now hung on the wall at my right. It
is about six inches long, and three broad at the widest part ; the
shape is rather sharp ovoid. The main part is of harbor sealskin
plainly but very neatly worked with colored beads on the upper
part, while the outside of the pocket has three little knots of the
same on either side of the round opening for the face of the watch,
which opening, with the upper edge of the pocket, and the whole
outer edge of the case has an edging of purple ribbon, on which
a string of white beads is sewed in small scallops entirely around
it; the inside pocket lining, as shown through the opening
in front, is of red silk, and the back of the whole affair is of
brown cotton cloth. It is really very ornamental, and quite useful ;
various patterns are made besides this ; but, as a rule, the plainer
and simpler the more attractive they are. Hossacks are long strips
of cloth on which a series of three, four, or even more pockets, of
a variety of depth and width to suit the maker, are sewed, the
top of each pocket just reaching to the bottom of the other, and the
DUCKS' HEADS AS ORNAMENTS. 171
whole making a strip some twelve or fourteen inches long by four
or six wide. When the body of the piece and the lining of the
pockets are of good cloth, the trimmings an edging of colored
ribbons with bows at each corner of the top of each pocket and
at the bottom of the last one, and the face of each pocket filled
with sealskin, beadwork on sealskin, or colored cloth groundwork,
or, as is more often the case, of the heads of ducks and other
birds, the effect is most striking, and the ornament one which would
grace the boudoir of the wealthy as well as the library of the student.
The head of a merganser or sheldrake, with its purple reflections,
and long, linear, glossy, and most delicately curved feathers ; that
of the loon with its metallic gloss ; of the king eider, or kingbird
as it is called, with its delicate green on a white background, —
are the most frequently used pieces ; while the teal, widgeon, and
various other birds are sometimes substituted and, placed in the most
conspicuous places, add greatly to the attractiveness of the article.
Pouches and pockets, especially for carrying tobacco, are usually
made and sold in large numbers. They are manufactured of harbor
sealskin — lined or not — bordered, fringed, worked with beads some-
times over nearly their entire surface, or plain according as the
maker may see fit to work them. The rounded lapel is termin-
ated by a long, thin strip of sealskin, to which is attached a piece
of wood, bone, or the tooth of some animal, which ties and fastens
the article when rolled up. If it is made to roll up tightly it is
called a pouch, while if it retain its shape it is called a pocket. The
market for all these articles is chiefly near home and their making
a matter of pleasure rather than work.
172 NEW YEAR'S DAY. — RACKET WALKING.
CHAPTER XI.
New Year's Day — How to walk on Rackets — " Fish, dogs and seal," the
general topics of conversation — Obtaining skeletons — Larch poultices —
"Small Talk — Low temperature — Deer stories — Trapping — Indians
— Up the river — At the Mission — Harnessing the puppies — A racket
walk.
SATURDAY, January i, 1881. New Year's day passed much like
any other day here, and differed little from either the Christmas or
Thanksgiving that had preceded it. The "old wife's" saying, that
the twelve days after Christmas determine the weather for the twelve
months in the year, is here strongly and strangely believed, espec-
ially by the elderly people. I am of the opinion that, generally,
the people are rather inclined to superstitions. Sayings like the
above, together with such as the month "comes in like a lion
and goes out like a lamb," or the reverse, are frequently quoted ; and
though half in jest I fancy them to be more than half believed.
One will find a very fair practical example of the use or belief in
the value of Herschel's weather tables by the moon, here in the old
wife's almanac. Such elderly ladies almost invariably inquire when
the moon appeared before telling what weather may be expected.
Strange as it may be, they seldom assert that the weather will be
" so and so," but say " I have always noticed ;" or " the last time"
it was so and so, so and so happened — thus they predict the fu-
ture from the past.
I made my first trial to-day of walking on rackets. Racket-
walking is a feat very difficult for a stranger to acquire readily.
The motion is different from anything I know of; the peculiar swing
of the body much like that of a sailor walking the slippery or un-
"FISH, DOGS, AND SEAL." 173
balanced deck of a vessel. The impression upon the snow is about
) as shown in the figure. Place a number of these figures in a
( line, one before the other, and you have the impression ; im-
) agine the foot as it swings the circle of the loop and you have
( the step. I walked with one of the neighbors into the river,
) as it is called, that is, to the Mission settlement, seven miles
away ; my feet were sore for days afterwards, but I soon became
expert in the use of the rackets, and before many weeks was
using them as freely as if I had lived in Labrador all my life.
Wednesday evening a party of neighbors called from about fif-
teen miles to the westward, and amused us with the news, of which
there was very little, and the gossip of which there was a great deal.
They were very pleasant, and concerning their hobbies — fish, dogs,
and seals — quite intelligent. Hunting is generally the chief topic of
conversation in the winter, and though game appears scarce this
year, I have the word of so many that I cannot doubt the asser-
tion that last year ('79-'8o), two young fellows shot and snared
eight hundred rabbits and about three hundred ptarmigans ; they
sold part of them farther to the north for a shilling (twenty cents)
a pair, while those remaining not eaten were salted down for future
use.
Tuesday the nth. We were nearly turned out of the house
for the day and the rest of the week, by the owner using the only
available room for a carpenter's shop, while he made him a new
komatik ; for some trifling reason, however, the sled was not a suc-
cess, and was used but very little, the old one being preferred in
its place.
I was very fortunate to-day in getting a large number of skeletons
of mammalia, from a gentleman now in charge of the (this year's)
unused habitation of the Hudson's Bay Company's post at St.
Augustine, — I mean unused this year by the company. There
were several skeletons of the beaver, the mountain cat, as it is here
called, or Canada lynx {Lynx Canadensis) , several specimens
each of the common red, the cross, and the patch fox, together
with one of the white or arctic fox ( Vulpes lagopus ) , besides
174 PURCHASING SKELETONS.
several of the weasel and mink, one martin (Mustela Americana),
and a variety of the common red squirrel (Sciurus Hudsonius) .
It often amuses me to hear the reports, so frequently current, of
the fabulous " wealth of the American gentleman who has lately
come on the coast, buying everything that is of no use to anybody."
One fellow brought me a common porcupine and said that he
heard that I was giving five dollars for porcupines, but wanted to
know if I could not give him six ! I gave him a dollar, and
considered that he had made a pretty good bargain at that. He
was contented, since he had been induced to ask the price by his
father and others who undoubtedly thought that they could easily
" make a good thing" out of the American who might not know
the difference. With reference to one other animal whose skele-
ton I procured, I would say that the wolverine, or glutton ( Gulo
luscus), — called " Carcajou " by the Indians — is becoming either
more and more rare about this locality, in fact all along the coast,
or has retired far inland. It is seldom caught; its fur rarely
appears in collections — that is in comparison to what it did ten
years ago even — and is so poor, and the price so low, that it
would hardly pay one to hunt it. The Indians have ceased
to capture it, and out of a thousand dollar batch of fur you will
not find more than ten dollars worth of its skins. The animal has
undoubtedly gone farther into the interior, where it hunts the
deer by pouncing upon it from some concealed spot in the
trees above, when the animal passes, and tearing its throat sucks
its blood.
Monday the i yth. While up the bay this morning there came on
a tremendous snowstorm. The flakes were larger I think than any
that I ever saw before or have seen since ; it often appeared as if I
saw them fully half as large as my hand.
For the last three or four days one of the men has been suffering
intensely with a felon on his thumb ; all manner of poultices and
applications have been tried to cure it, but none have been so
effectual as the soft, outer rind of the common larch (Larix Amer-
icana}, boiled in hot water and then kneaded into a poultice. It
SMALL TALK." 175
healed the sore with wonderful rapidity. It reminds one how rare
serious cases are in this region, where physicians are so " few and
far between." The people are seldom sick, and when they are
nature is its own nurse assisted by the experience of the " old wo-
men " of the coast.
Saturday all hands amused themselves making molasses candy,
a great treat in this region ; it tasted very good and homelike I
assure you. A little luxury of this kind is highly appreciated in
such a region, and especially since so little sweetening of any kind
can be procured. This year provisions have been unusually high
everywhere along the coast. Flour, which usually sells for from seven
to eight dollars a barrel, has already reached twelve dollars, and is
still going up ; it is hard to be obtained even at this price. Many
of the poorer families are feeding on corn meal, which is generally
refused here until the last extremity, since the majority of the peo-
ple regard it as hardly fit to feed the dogs with. I suppose, in this
case, the climate has a great deal to do with the prejudice. Corn
meal is evidently and eminently a southern dish, and suitable to
the warm climates. Besides what I have mentioned, the saltfish
has already given out in the majority of the families along the
coast, and the preserved salmon, trout, herring, and mackerel,
are being used up fast. Last year the game was so abundant that
not half of it could be eaten ; this year there are no indications
of any, and the Indians, from two hundred miles in the interior,
are telling the same story. Some of the old inhabitants say that
they never knew such a dearth of game during thirty or forty years'
residence on the coast.
Several cases have come to my knowledge where whole families
have been obliged to separate and hire around in turn to their
more fortunate neighbors for the winter for their board alone, to
escape the poverty and destitution which would surely have over-
taken some of them had they continued living together for any
length of time during this excessively cold weather. Add to this
the wrangling of families and often members of the same family
(happening in several cases, over the cargo of the wrecked Edward
176 DOGS DRAWING HEAVY LOADS.
Card well), and it is not strange that this should be regarded as an
unusual year on the coast of Labrador. Still another drawback
exists, and one that would work in the exact opposite way in any
other country : the weather has been mild instead of cold, — the
bays hardly frozen over. Now if the bays do not freeze fast
sledding between places becomes almost impossible, since the dogs
must draw the sleds over steep and high hills, and can carry only
a small load ; while if the weather be cold, the bays freeze quickly
and sleds draw immense loads with the greatest of ease.
It is an old saying that "you cannot load a well-made komatik."
The sled balances so nicely and draws so evenly on the ice that you
may pile on all that you can, yet once start the load and the dogs
will draw it fast enough. This does not necessarily prove that the
dogs are not powerful creatures, or that they do not exert great
power in drawing the loads imposed upon them. I have seen three
stout dogs draw over a thousand pounds of old iron (upon one of
these sledges) over seven miles in about an hour and twenty-five
minutes ; while again I have seen these same dogs draw a load
of twelve twelve-foot deal board plank, weighing not one-half as
much, and when the sled became stuck in the slush, all their
force could not move it. Though this would seem to prove that
the sled is easily drawn after being once started, such is not always
the case. It must be remembered that dogs must exert a tremen-
dous effort to draw even the small weight of an empty komatik over
the ice that is smooth as glass and presents no unevenness upon
which they may rest the foot to keep it from slipping. I have
seen several of these creatures harnessed in such a position where it
was impossible to assist in the carrying, and even very little in the
starting of the load ; for instance, there were five large, smart dogs
harnessed to a huge oak log, eighteen inches square and fifty feet
long, embedded in the snow and ice. A few pries with the pick
loosened but did not start the log. The dogs strained, often
running backward, then rushing forward with a great jump that
brought them to the end of the line, with a thug like the sound
of a drum, while at other times they strained every nerve, before
the log started ; but, once started, was drawn without difficulty.
LOW TEMPERATURE — DEER STORIES. 177
The lowest temperature that I observed occurred this week when,
about seven o'clock one morning, the glass was at 2 7° below zero ;
it must at the very least have been 30° below during the night.
This is generally the average winter temperature in this region, on
cold winter nights and mornings, while it often goes down to 40°
below and sometimes freezes the mercury. This winter the majority
of readings for the thermometer have been hardly to zero, or barely
below it — consequently the bays have not frozen over, travelling has
been most difficult, and the people have suffered accordingly.
In the poorer communities I have been struck with the greed with
which everything is saved or hoarded up against a time when it
may be needed. Nails are often of as much value as if they were
made of nickel ; pieces of wood of peculiar shape are saved ; the
hoop, stave, or head of a barrel, if strong, is carefully laid away ;
while each little thing is saved or hoarded with the care bestowed
upon some sacred Penates, that is kept to be looked upon rather
than for use. Everything has its value while there is little that is
apparently useless.
I suppose that to-day, Thursday, Feb. 10, one of the most
exciting stories (since verified) came to us that we have heard
for a long time. I have reference to a party of deer hunters who
have just returned from the interior with report of a large herd of
deer having appeared there, about a day's journey eastward from
where we now live. Their success has been unusual. Large herds
have been seen, and a great many deer killed by different parties
along the coast. One man living in the little settlement up the
river had the rare fortune to kill four in one day. It appears that
the hunter alluded to started out alone from the cabin, one morning
before breakfast, and, coming up with a herd, was fortunate enough
to kill two deer with the same ball — both falling together. He re-
turned to the cabin to breakfast, and said that he should want some
one to go with him with a sledge and dogs to procure the deer and
bring them to the cabin for him. While waiting for the men to har-
ness the dogs, and get in readiness, he said to them that he would
just take his rifle and have a turn over the hill beyond to see if
178 HOW INDIANS HUNT.
there was anything in the shape of game to be seen, hardly ex-
pecting to find any so near the cabin. He returned in a short
time saying that he had shot two more deer, as before, both with
the same ball, taking two of them as they happened to be running
abreast. Of course, those in the cabin were wild with excitement.
During the hunting season several parties shot deer and some of
them more than one, but no one approached the above record.
We now had fresh meat, and made good use of it, I assure you.
It was quite palatable after a uniform diet of salt fish and pork for
four months previous. Later on we obtained deer's meat of the
Indians, smoked by them, and prepared as our dried beef;
they cut it up into small pieces, and eat it from their tin dish
much as we would bread and milk, without the milk, however.
This dried deer's meat is, in fact, the Indians' bread for a large part
of the year, while they are out on their hunting expeditions. The
Indians conduct their hunts in a much more systematic manner
than would at first appear. They start from the coast and travel
about a hundred miles directly inland before pitching their tents,
carrying everything with them, of course, by the water of the
numerous inland ponds and lakes, or on their back over portages, —
a portage being generally spoken of as a narrow passage over some
embankment which separates the waters of one lake or pond from
those of some other farther on — when they camp, and the men
immediately start out on the look, first, before any hunting or trap-
ping of other game is attended to, for deer. They travel by
concentric circles gradually widening outward, and return in much
the same way home. Thus it is impossible for them to miss the
tracks, on the snow, of these animals, should they cross them in any
direction. The tracks first found, the impressions are followed with
accuracy and swiftness, day and night, until the herd is found, when,
I believe, generally, part remain to hunt while the others return and
fetch the tent and utensils to within a few miles of this new locality.
As long as there are deer within thirty miles of the tent the
Indians remain in a given place and proceed with their hunting.
Several deer are killed, their flesh hung in strips over the fire and
INDIANS IN WINTER. 179
smoked — to be afterwards laid away for extreme use only ; the bones
are either made into a soup — as they are full of oil and marrow,
or roasted, then cracked and eaten ; while the hide is soaked in
brine and the hair taken off by a scraper, much like our chopping
knife — if indeed there be any difference — but by them called "ood-
loo" or, as pronounced, " hoodloo ;" it is then washed, cleaned,
dried, and white-tanned and preserved (dressed) with the brain of
the animal, in which the skin is rubbed and kneaded with both
hands and feet until rendered quite soft and flexible.
When the supply of food has been assured the hunters next turn
their attention to the traps. They set deadfalls, principally, for all
the variety of animals captured, and are usually more successful
in capturing martins, than any other game, the number of these
animals annually captured being simply enormous. The next most a-
bundant species is the beaver ; then come the otter and Canada lynx ;
perhaps the red fox should come in after the martin, at least after
the beaver, in point of numbers at any rate. In this manner the
encampment, consisting perhaps of four men, three women, and five
or six children, will continue to work their way five or six hun-
dred miles inland in winter, eventually coming out in the spring by
the same road — though not always — that they went in on the pre-
ceding fall, with a load of valuable furs, and in a half famished
condition. They then sell their furs, pay part of their debts — for
every one gets large credit from the traders who often charge enough
to make up for it — and live in plenty for a time following. It looks
strange to see them, as I have, furnish their wigwam, or mishwap ;
they borrow a stove, let the chimney run out at the top of the tent,
and try to semi-civilize themselves, while they buy large quantities
of everything that is eatable from the particular trader of whom
they procure their goods — » generally each family getting their pur-
chases of a different party — and do little for the next month but
eat and sleep. They are, generally speaking, a peaceable set, and
only savage when their apparent — to them at least — rights are in-
fringed on. The whole number on the coast is about 1400; they do
180 A TRIP UP THE RIVER.
not exceed a well ordered regiment, and doubtless one-half of these
only could be relied on to fight, even should any real difficulty
arise, which is not likely to happen at any time in a country at once
so cold and so remote from human habitation generally. They
have enough sense to see that it is for their own interest to keep on
good terms with their white neighbors, — for who would purchase
their furs if they did not do so? Strangely enough, an Indian
will purchase anything that, setting his eyes upon, he desires, pro-
vided it come within the reach of his means, or that his credit allows ;
it may be a shotgun worth a hundred dollars, a boat worth twice
that amount, or a solid and expensive gold watch, — and cases of the
latter kind have occurred frequently. I have in mind one where
an Indian ordered and obtained a valuable gold watch and chain
worth about $ 150.00 ; he used them for awhile, and then exchanged
it about a month after for a $3.00 silver one that, at the time, equally
pleased his fancy. Nor is this either an extravagant or an ex-
ceptional instance on record of like stupidity.
In the afternoon of the same day, Thursday the loth, I took a
guide and went several miles farther up the river. It was a most
pleasant and delightful walk. We followed a winding path, or
portage, over a series of hills and vales ; the deep snow on which
we walked nearly covering a small growth of firs and spruces, pro-
bably six to eight feet high — the path lying over these. On the
distant left rocky knobs and crests, with rounded tops, were
everywhere apparent, while, on the right, high cliffs bordered
the river.
We were now in the valley of the narrow river. High hills were
on either side ; beyond and ahead, uprearing tier upon tier, dark
blue and long, uneven ridges of crests had been upheaved by nature
towards the light blue sky above. The river, bending to the left,
seemed to lose itself in the distance among the bases of one or two
bold cliffs which appeared to bar its passage. It was a grand scene :
the passive river, bound in ice and crowned with snow. At this
point the stream is nearly a mile and a half wide. About the same
TRAINING THE DOGS. 181
distance can be seen ahead before the cliffs shut the view in that
direction. The scene is one of a vast inland lake, enclosed on all
sides by cliffs and hills.
Returning home I had a full view of the ridge across which the
portage here runs. Like many, which I saw in various other
places about the region, it is without doubt of glacial origin, and
was perhaps formerly of equal height with the surrounding elevations
on either side, but was worn down by the abrasion of some local
arms of the glacier entering the river — perhaps the course of the
former main glacial stream — at this point.
In the evening I visited the Mission, and found a young folks
party in progress. It pleased me to see the effectual way that
the teachers had taken to reach the juvenile hearts, and promote,
for a couple of weeks to come, scholarly attainments in the reci-
tation room.
Sunday the i3th. It snowed hard all day. Monday was no
better. It was St. Valentine's day, which is here rigidly kept like
the majority of other Saints' days and holidays, as a " fete day ;"
no one did any work, and while the women "slicked up," the men
got "set up " — if they could find anything to get set up with — and
spent the most of their time in smoking and sleeping. It snowed
steadily until Wednesday morning, when it stopped, for a short time
only, as if to ascertain the results, to begin again with renewed force
and violence. Sunday was about one of the most uncomfortable
days I experienced during the winter. The wind was cold and
piercing, strong and penetrating. The ground was covered deep
with snow, and the mist in the air — if I remember right — heavy
and wet. Monday the little puppies, now nearly two-thirds grown,
were broken into the komatik ; it was a most curious sight. The
process, though it appears brutal, is the only one that seems effect-
ual. The young dogs are taken and tied tightly into a harness,
an extra thong is passed into the mouth and then tied above and
around the whole muzzle as tightly as it can be drawn ; this is
done principally to prevent the animal from biting the thongs and
freeing itself. The other end of the harness is then fastened to
182 WASHINGTON'S BIRTHDAY.
that of one of the large and fierce dogs already secured to the
sled. Of course, then, as the large dogs go, the smaller ones are
obliged to follow. If they trip and fall, as they frequently do, the
big dog drags them along until they are jounced on to their feet
again. Thus on they go, rolling over and over, bounding from side
to side, and all the time uttering most dismal and horrible groans
and cries. Gradually they become actually hardened and seem
to enjoy being thus pulled about, and soon they are loosened and
harnessed, several of them separately, under the lead of some old
head dog. After this the best and most obedient of them is fastened
to the head dog, in advance of the others, and taught to be urged
forward, or to be turned to the left or right at the shout of the
proper turning words from the master; they are then harnessed
all alone with this trained head puppy as leader, and if they go all
right, exercise and the whip alone are necessary to keep them in
training and practice.
Tuesday, February 22. Washington's birthday! How happy
I am that the dear old gentleman was not born here in this remote
frozen region; he verily would have died of the blues without
having handed down to America an event to celebrate. I fired
several rounds in honor of the occasion,— much to the disgust of
the people with whom I was staying, who, as Englishmen, of course
cared little about celebrating any save their own fete-days — and
concluded the day with a walk, upon those curious articles the
rackets, which I will try to describe.
In describing a walk in rackets I hardly know how, at first, to
begin. I might follow on foot any one of the many excursionists
who are so constantly and continually going and coming to and
from the interior, or the dwellings along the coast, but that, being un-
accustomed to long tramps, I could not give a true account of such
experience; or I might give fanciful accounts of dangers and
occurrences that possibly might have happened to me or anyone
else unacquainted with the ground to be gone over had such a
journey been attempted. I do not like to mix the fanciful and the
real unless circumstances so happen that there seems to be no
ENDURANCE OF NATIVES. 183
escape, and yet I fear that the faint description of a really short,
but to me long and tiresome walk, or rather tramp of this kind
which shall be told, will be far from giving you a true idea of what
a Labradorian day's march, over hill and bay, may be. Though the
hills are high, their caps snowy, and their sides slippery ; though
strangers would soon be tired out by excessive fatigue in climbing
and slipping over them ; the people here think no more of it than
if the tramp were one over a level plain that we would walk
with ease and comfort. The whole coast for many miles inland is
one vast extent of hills, from three to five hundred feet above
the sea level ; and yet the men go over them from place to place,
visiting house after house, stopping simply for a few moments' rest
or chat with some neighbor, or to eat a frugal meal at another's
hospitality, — for hospitality is offered here even among those who are
enemies in every other way, and it is counted a sin to refuse such
when houses are often a day's march apart — while a day's march of
twenty, thirty, and in rare instances forty miles, of such travelling
is far from being unusual. One may wonder how such journeys
are made, but it is impossible to account for them other than by the
natural hardihood of the people here, who live and thrive on the
coarsest of food. Not long since a man walked a distance of
about seventy miles in two days ; quite recently, parties have gone
deer hunting, twenty miles into the interior, stalking deer all
day, returning to their simple cabin at night, having travelled forty
miles. Nor are such events uncommon; the people here think
nothing of it, and, in fact, tell of the many miles that they have
walked with considerable pleasure. It is of course pleasant to
ramble over these snow-capped hills ; to see the beauties of nature,
expressed in the indescribable language of nature, from elevations
and depressions, from ponds and gorges, and snow alternating with
rock or discovered lichens, or chilled vegetation; but a stroll
over a bay of frozen ice, with hills about and around one, and
islands here and there, while you walk comfortably along and fill
yourself with the scene, is, perhaps, still more pleasant.
My walk from Old Fort Bay to Bonne Esperance was undertaken
184 ENGLISH VEBSUS AMERICAN.
in honor of the day. Here I was, in a lonely out-of-the-way
region of the globe, midway between the temperate and the arc-
tic zones, and snowed and iced up, so to speak, from the rest
of the world ; to this, add the fact that I was upon English soil,
and you understand my feelings. I shall never forget in this
connection (though I mean no offence) a passage in one of Jules
Verne's works, in which he recounts a dispute upon the naming of
a point hitherto unreached in the unknown lands in the polar regions.
The parties were an Englishman and an American ; both had come
together unexpectedly in search, the one of the northwest passage,
the other, of the north pole ; the name of Cape Washington
was given by the American. The Englishman angrily asserted,
" you might choose a name less offensive to an Englishman ;" to
which the other replied, proudly, " but not one which sounds so
sweet to an American." I am afraid that my English friends
shared a touch of this sentiment, at least the former part of it, as
I maintained the national honor of the occasion and fired a salute of
four guns to the memory of the day ; for, on coming to breakfast,
I was greeted with a sharp, "what's that for?" and an explanation
only elicited a shrug of the shoulders accompanied by an humph/
as if of no consequence to them and entirely unnecessary on my
part.
After breakfast I prepared to carry out my scheme. It was
a fine morning, the air was cold and clear, scarcely any wind,
the roads in tolerably good condition as I supposed, and all
nature invited me forth. In return for the reception my patriot-
ism of the morning had received, I determined to pay my friends
by not telling them where I was going — having but one object
in view all the time; many were their solicitations, but I was
firm. The dogs seemed unusually happy as they frisked about and
around me, and it seemed good to get out in the air; so
putting on my rackets, with my gun in hand, I started off. At first
I had to walk on the level bay about a mile and a half to the head-
land on the left. The walking would have been called good by a
native Labradorian ; to me it was terrible, and I stumbled along
RACKET WALK ACROSS THE BAY. 185
over ridges of drifted snow and patches of smooth ice, on which
as with the schoolboy it seemed as if for every step forward I
took two backward, and that it would have been much better to
have turned, as he did, and walked backwards ; but at last the diffi-
culty was overcome and the snow reached again when the travelling
was smooth for some distance.
The wind had as yet hardly sprung up, yet the clear but rather
cold air was unusually invigorating. The hills on either side
looked quite fresh and clear in outline against the sky, and
the day gave promise of being unusually fine. Everywhere, snow !
snow ! snow ! It seemed as if the elements combined to make bad
travelling for the sledges, for it is hard work for the dogs to haul
the komatiks through the snow on the bay, especially when the salt
water penetrates the ice, or rather the partially thawed top of the
salt water ice, which, it must be remembered, requires a much lower
temperature to freeze than fresh water, alternate with the deep
ridges of soft snow ; but with rackets the case is different and these
snow heaps were just the kind of material for good walking. I soon
struck for the highland on the left and was just approaching a lit-
tle opening between the mainland and an island — such openings
are called here by the name of "tickle" — when a gust of wind
from the northeast, and in the exact line through which I was to pass,
struck me fiercely. The snow was piled in deep, uneven ridges ;
cakes of ice had been thrown upon each other by a recent partial
thaw blocking the way before me ; and the wind, added to these
hindrances, almost forced me to abandon my design. The gust
swept fiercely through the narrow opening, and I was glad when
safe on the other side and once more set out across the long
stretch of bay between me and the island half-way to my stopping
place.
The hills on the coast receded on the left in an outline of un-
dulating crests far eastward ; on the far west was the ridge of high
hills that formed the entrance of Old Fort Bay ; beyond lay in-
numerable islands, often so close together that they seemed to form
186 AN ICE SCENE.
a band of mainland in the distance of several miles that separated
them from me. On ! on ! The scene was one of strange beauty,
while words are utterly unable to portray its grandeur.
The ice and snow of a winter on the hills and plains of north-
ern latitudes cannot be described to a dweller in city, country, or
town. The few houses of the region, miles apart, hidden by sur-
rounding cliffs ; undulating hill tops and deep gorges ; isolated
knobs, now high, now low ; near ridges looking far, and far ones
looking near, the effects of refraction in a clear, northern air, —
all unite with an irregular plain of level bay in being covered
everywhere with snow, snow, snow ! A dull glare of ice, and
occasional bare places or peaks on the rocky masses of hill — for
I can call the whole coast by no other name — relieve occasionally
a monotony of snow ; while the clouds above add white masses
of stratus to the scene. Tell me, now, how can pen describe what
sight and sense almost fail to appreciate ? Arctic travellers (not
that I dare assume a place among them) tell of the sights that
everywhere greet them and which are indescribable ; yet few believe
them until they likewise catch a glimpse of a similar display of
nature's arctic grandeur. In the narrative of explorers, we read of
one by one who return to give evidence to their truth and attempt
to describe similar experiences.
The process of walking on rackets is one easier to describe than
to attain to perfection. The large size of the rackets occasions an
unusual difficulty in walking. The feet must be kept quite wide
apart, and usually the proper step requires the leg to be swung in
a semicircular direction around the racket of the other foot. The
effect to the eye is very peculiar and ludicrous to one observing
it for the first time ; and, in fact, to me it always appears ludicrous
to see a man thus easily, though apparently awkwardly and with
difficulty, laboring his way along, claperty-clap, as the big pads
fall in their proper step places on the snow, and the person wear-
ing them advances rapidly along.
By this time the novelty of such a scene as that I was gazing
DIFFICULT WALKING. 187
upon had begun to wear away and given place to uneasiness regard-
ing the distance ahead rather than of that already travelled. The
walking, now that the open bay was reached, began to be anything
but good ; for while the lighter and more crispy — for I can think
of no other word to express the condition — the snow, the better
the walking, the case is quite the contrary when a partial thaw sets
in and renders the walking watery and sloshy. At such a time
every hole in the sieve-like interlacing of deerskin, which fills the
interior of the racket, is filled with the sticky snow, and the bars
covered also ; soon, by frequent pressure, the upper side is cov-
ered with the same, and so with the weight above, and the sticking
of the snow beneath, the foot must fairly drag such a mass of cloggy
matter along with it and the racket, and soon renders one un-
used to this kind of walking quite weary ; but there is no help, and
on, on, through the slosh and snow a fatiguing tramp is continued.
It is almost useless to stop and rest, as, strange to say, the best rest
is to keep on walking. I do not know just how to explain this ap-
parent contradiction ; the truth, however, is revealed by a practical
test. At length the walking is so bad that I take off my rackets
and try my dogskin boots alone, though the condition of things
is hardly improved until the walking is bettered by an approach
to the island before mentioned, where a layer of snow materially
helps the matter and forms a pleasant change from the sticky
material that I leave behind.
After pressing on with renewed courage I soon reached the
other side of the island, and could see Bonne before me about
three miles ahead with a small point of mainland between us.
The walking was now good, but the weather had changed. The
wind blew hard from the northeast, and the cold was biting. Soon
the clouds began to gather, and, almost before I knew it, the at
first gently falling flakes of snow had agreed with the wind and
came drifting down in perfect sheets; harder and harder came
the blinding storm, fiercer and fiercer blew the wind, heavier and
heavier became the rackets upon my feet, and then the feet them-
188 A SNOW FLURRY.
selves ; but there was nothing to be done but keep up the spirits
and march along. I have heard of fierce storms quickly aris-
ing in these arctic regions, that frequently bewildered the best of
even native travellers and turned him astray from an almost straight
road. I have, no doubt, frequently seen such from some house or
safe harbor without fully appreciating its intensity • but I then saw
it and felt its full meaning, though I was too near a shelter to be
lost, unless overcome by fatigue or bewildered with fright, neither
of which seemed probable though of course possible. The wind
blew the snow in fine dust all over my clothes, and the cold pene-
trated even the thick cloth of which they were made. It was a
terrible walk to the mainland, but I soon gained it, and sheltered
myself in the fish stage of one of the establishments on the east
side. Here I rested while watching the storm. There was a strug-
gle in my mind as to whether to proceed at once across the small
bay to my friend's house a distance of about half a mile, or wait
until the storm had passed ; a determination, however, to brave the
worst ; and, perhaps, a sort of feeling that it was better to con-
quer the elements, than be conquered by them, took possession of
me, so I braced on the rackets again, buttoned my coat tightly
about me, and with an extra pull to my cap I started off. How the
wind did blow ! how the blinding snow beat over and around me !
that half mile seemed longer than all the other seven that I had
gone over combined. At last the other side was reached, the well
known place gained, and in a few moments I was in the presence
of the nicest and most pleasant family on the coast of Labrador,
without exception, while the weariness vanished as I was greeted
by friends and sat down with them to a capital venison dinner.
Any one who has been half starved for the space of several
weeks (almost months) on bread without butter, and tea and coffee
without sugar or milk, with any kind of meat save salt pork out of
the question, will appreciate a meal of good food when they get
it. The case was mine exactly ; and the savory smell of a good
venison stew with some large mealy potatoes as an addition, as it
BONNE ESPERANCE IN WINTER. 189
was put upon my plate, clouded my vision to all other surround-
ings, so that I had eyes for this and nothing else, while I lost all
sense of the outer world in contemplation of that delicious plate
of food that was being passed to me. The tea with both milk and
sugar — for Mr. Whitely's is one of three families on the coast that
keep a cow — proved an excellent beverage ; while a real currant
pudding presented an additional feature that was wholly irresistible.
My friends must have thought me a barbarian and half starved at
that ; the latter I was without doubt.
Few changes had occurred at Bonne since my visit there in the
fall. The ice had frozen in the bay in front of the house, and snow
still topped the summits of the island ; big drifts lay about here
and there, showing the general direction of the wind in heaping
them up, but no one had attempted to dig through them, and it
would indeed have been labor lost since the wind would surely
have filled the paths in a single night to their former height. The
male portion of the family occupied their time chiefly in most in-
teresting conversation about deer and deer hunting, and some
eighteen or twenty men had already gone off into the country on a
hunt; the unusual abundance of these animals had fully raised
a deer craze that attracted nearly all the eligible young men of the
coast. Already some thirty deer had been killed, and others were
reported every day. I saw a beautiful head and horns of a young
buck shot by my friend, and it truly was a beauty. One man
twice killed two deer with a single ball; this is remarkably fine
shooting and shots of this kind are only made by a good hunter
and one of steady nerves and eye. The deer, it is said, are very
tame ; but a man must stand a great deal and be able to walk many
miles a day if he would become a deer hunter in this country ; and
though I do not suppose I shall attempt a trip of this kind, I can
yet hope that chance may throw me in the way of shooting one
of these fine animals. This has been the only fresh meat that the
people about the river have had this winter, excepting the small
piece each received of the cow that was killed late in the fall.
190
TO THE VICTOR THE SPOILS.
All game has fled, and the only fear is that the cupidity — I can
call it nothing else — of the successful hunters will overcome their
natural good feeling and prevent them from making that distri-
bution of their spoils to the unsuccessful ones that they otherwise
would. There is a strong spirit of selfishness among some of the
inhabitants of the coast who have risen to comfort solely by their
own hard work, for many that are now poor might also have become
comfortably off by their own efforts, had they possessed courage to
press forward to the work.
HOT WEATHER — TRIP TO AMOUR. 191
CHAPTER XII.
80° in winter — Trip eastward — Starting — Esquimaux river and island —
Salmon bay — Bradore bay — Caribou island — Five leagues — Middle
bay — Belles Amour — Over Bradore hills — L'Anse and dunes — Blanc
Sablon — L'Anse Coteau — L'Anse Clair — Forteau — Amour.
THURSDAY, March 3. This was a remarkable day — though such
a day as does at times occur in this region. The thermometer
went steadily up, higher and higher, until about two o'clock it
reached 80°, and hot enough to make us all wish for summer clothing.
Soon it began to descend as rapidly as it had risen, until in the
night it must have reached zero, or very near it, again. This, I
believe, was the hottest day that I experienced on the coast;
summer or winter.
On Friday morning, the 4th of March, I started on my long
expected trip from old Fort Bay to L'Anse Amour, a distance in •
a straight line of only about thirty-five miles, while, by the way we
were obliged to go, along the bays and points of the coast,
it was nearly, if not quite, fifty miles. It took us two days to go,
and as many to return, while a stay of the same time at different
places on the way consumed the greater part of the week. It
was a pleasant trip, and the time seemed only too short, while it
was quite impossible to see all the numerous sights and go to all the
attractive places awaiting us on every hand. The weather was
most beautiful, and the air in a continual state of exhilarating
freshness. Only one or two small flurries of snow passed over
us, while, for the most part, the sky was of a cloudless blue.
Occasionally a light haziness concealed the sun, and once a dark
192 PREPARING FOR A TRIP.
gathering in the southwest reminded one forcibly of the coming on
of a thunderstorm as we frequently see it at home. Once, also, a
light fog arose. I mention it simply because our guide said that
it was very rare to see a fog in the month of March. The cool
breezes were mostly from points from north to south by east. The
cold was not intense, and at no time did I find it necessary to wear
an overcoat over the heavy clothes that I had on though it proved a
very convenient cushion for the komatik. I think there was but
one day when the sun thawed the snow ; but the roads were good
all the time. Over hill and on bay, wherever we went the travelling
was good, for dogs properly shod, and there was no reason to
complain of it. We did not need rackets, and the snow was good
and firm, while a beaten path most of the way united with everything
else to make my journey a most enjoyable affair.
In starting upon a journey, in these parts, little or no provision
is made for food upon the way, unless the distance to be passed
over contains no houses ; for, as I have frequently observed, to
refuse hospitality even to an enemy is considered the worst crime
of which a man here can be guilty. That important matter settled,
the articles to be carried are carefully selected. As it requires no
great time to select the articles for such a trip, one is, so to speak,
ready at any time for a journey.
Friday we were awake and about bright and early. The day was
fair, and it was not long before a hearty breakfast was awaiting us.
After our simple meal we hastily got together our effects and
lashed them to the komatik. They presented the appearance of
of a rather high cushion, and could be easily taken for a seat
prepared for the occasion. Large sacks of rough bagging for carry-
ing articles which might be picked up on the way, such as food or
meat for the dogs, etc., we added two such bags to our list, and
with our overcoats, a pair of rackets in case such should be needed
on account of the roads, and my gun, the equipment was as com-
plete as it was simple.
The harnessing of the dogs did not take long. The early hour,
and the unusual stir seemed to show them that something out of
PREPARING FOR OUR JOURNEY. 193
the ordinary course of proceedings was in order, and they too
showed their delight at the prospect by their gambols and frolics.
It was really somewhat difficult work to harness them. They would
allow themselves to be caught only with great difficulty, and then
would soon manage one way or another to break loose just when
we thought we had secured them, and were off again barking at
us from behind the woodpile some yards distant. It is a matter of
no small difficulty to "rig" a komatik for a trip, getting all the lashings
and the ropes in proper order, especially when seven dogs are to be
caught and harnessed separately, their lines fastened to the petook
(if this is the proper spelling, which I could not ascertain cer-
tainly), being what we call the rope to a sled. The coldness
of the air chilled our fingers ; the dogs provoked us with their
uncalled-for gambols and frolics, refusing to be caught, though
they seemed to regard it as great sport. At last the three large
dogs and the three puppies, which latter had lately been broken
in were all harnessed ; the effects mentioned were tightly strapped
on the sled, and all was ready. It is a curious sight to see the
dogs thus harnessed striving to start the sled, each on his own
account. When the last one is harnessed, if the team is a good
one, each dog starts off with a run in a separate direction ; it needs
a good driver to control them or hold them in, or I should say
hold the sled in, until he is ready to start. The effect presented
reminds one much of the directions in which the five fingers point
when the hand is spread out to its fullest extent. Each dog starts off
with a rush, brings up at the end of his harness with a thug, as the
narrow but short sealskin thong tightens, and the dog is elevated
several feet in the air. The driver stands holding the komatik back
with both hands by main force, while he shouts at the top of his
voice to the dogs, with very little effect, to stop them or hold them
in until he is ready. It was a cold morning, but we had not long
to wait. Hurrying out of doors, and waving good-bye, we were off
the moment the hi, hi, hi, told that all was ready.
When a team of good dogs first starts off it is almost, and one might
13
194 FROM OLD FORT BAY TO THE RIVER.
well say quite, impossible to guide them. They will start off in any
direction of their own accord, perhaps towards the very opposite
side of the bay, and it is not until the first rush is over, and they
have somewhat abated their eagerness, that the driver's guiding
words are heeded at all. At last the head dog minds the voice
and gradually turns into the right track, when the others follow
a little behind, and the trip is really begun. It was thus with us,
when at five minutes past eight o'clock we started off in the face
of a good cool breeze from the north, in a clear air, with a bright
sun shining on us from an almost perfectly cloudless sky, for our
trip to the eastward.
The road from Old Fort Bay to the river, the same which I had
gone over in komatik and on foot so many times, was not changed
much this morning ; of course one would hardly expect it to change,
except by accumulation or disappearance of snow and the thawing
and freezing anew of the ice of the bay. The same level platform
of thick ice (broken only on the sides of the bay near the foot of
the hills, while its surface by a slight recent thaw was covered with
innumerable sharp needles of ice pointing upward occasioned by
a smart frost in the midst of the thaw, rendering the going anything
but good for the dogs' feet) spread before us for about a mile and a
half to the first portage, or path over the low hills, to the nearest
pond over which one is obliged to travel. As we rode through this
long, narrow cleft of the hills, I could not but think of the mighty
force that had here been at work for centuries to render the place
what it is ; as also of the process by which indentations were made
that left a succession of peaks separated by partial valleys on either
side, from the mouth of the bay to the bottom, and extending for-
ward and inward in successive chains far into the interior ; and of
the gorges and individual shape of each crest, bending gently
down to the water from the upper end of the bay, while ending
generally in rather abrupt, low, and yet often nearly perpendicular
cliffs or cliff-like rocks on each side. Then the probable agency
in polishing the rocks, often quite smooth, and in rounding off the
NATURE OF THE COUNTRY. 195
peaks — for it is seldom that you anywhere see a pointed hill top —
and apparently shaping the whole general appearance of hills,
valleys, and surrounding elevations and depressions.
Thus thinking, we rode swiftly and pleasantly along the bay ; we
crossed the first portage, over a low bank, with hills on either
side, at a little to the right of the bottom of the bay, where
a rather high hill slopes to the water and forms its boundary line,
and descended to the first pond. This pond is on the same level
as the bay, and separated from it by only a low ridge of land from
which the rock of the region crops out on all hands. It is nestled
in a hollow with hills all around it while the outline, more or
less circular in form, encloses an area of perhaps a half a mile.
Across this we go, and then slowly glide along the second portage
which, like the ridge containing it, is nearly on a level with the
pond. On the right, the low, rather swampy looking level is covered
with the gnarled trunks and stems of the dwarf birch so common in
this locality, the Betula populifolia of the botanists, and the best
fire-wood that the region affords, while on the left we pass close
to a long, perpendicular wall of rock that, rising some six feet and
extending some fifty in an even line, abruptly ends the ridge in
this place ; its surface is as smooth as if polished by some mighty
force, and yet I saw no scratches, or even signs of cleavage any-
where upon its face. The extent of this portage is about the
same as that of the one we had recently passed.
We now descend a little to a second pond ; a very small stream of
good drinking water (to which a large hole has been made through
the snow) runs along this path. This pond was soon passed, and
after ascending a low bank similar to that we crossed in going
to the first pond, and like it a low ridge between hills, we de-
scended to the river. Esquimaux or St. Paul's river, as it is called
— the latter being the proper name, though it figures upon the
charts as the former, — is peculiar in many respects. Its mouth
is quite large, and with several flexures or bends ; while Esquimaux
Island lies directly on the right hand, leaving only a small, narrow,
196 SCENERY AROUND ESQUIMAUX ISLAND.
and almost straight passage to the open sea beyond. About seven
miles inland the river narrows, passes some rapids, then enlarges
again to the next series of rapids, beyond which I have not been.
The waters are covered with ice the greater part of the time from
November to June. The broad bay-like portion, on which we now
entered, is everywhere surrounded with high hills which resemble
those inland. Several deep indentations, formerly the sites of one
or more houses, but which have been abandoned from unknown
causes, are to be seen on the left, as we enter the western side and
observe Esquimaux Island in the near distance in front of us ;
while the water reaches the sea on the right, and the tops only of
several little islands appear to relieve in summer the otherwise open
sea, and in winter the level ice. It is a wild scene, — nothing but
snow-capped hills, in the distance, above and around, while huge
heads of rocks jut out in long, stubbed, and rounded points of land,
dividing the bay-like river bend into several smaller pond-like bends
or bays. We skim along over the ice, in our hobgoblin team of
dogs with sled, enjoying the beauty of nature thus opened to us in
her icy realm, and drink in the fresh, yet not too cold, air that
stings our ears and gives us ruddy faces.
The usual path to the mission is soon traversed, and we pass on
our right the long, even, low sloping ridge on the north side of
Esquimaux Island with rather higher crests on either side, extend-
ing still further north, the whole looking as if it might once have
been the terminus of some glacial mass that swept over it, as well
probably as of most of these regions, and on our left the group of
some eight or ten houses which, with the church, constitute the
winter quarters of the inhabitants of the neighborhood. Now we
enter a small bend in that side of the river directly ahead of us,
which leads to a gorge-like opening between either two very high
hills (high for this region) or a single hill cleft in twain by some
mighty force, the latter of which is more probable, and begin to
climb the steep bank above covered with short spruce and fir trees,
by a narrow and winding portage. Up, up the bank we climb,
LAC SALE. 197
at least the dogs climb while we get off the sled and walk, at
the top of which we still see the hills apparently four times the
distance we have reached above us ; a walk of a few hundred rods
brings us to the opposite slope. On our left the huge mass of rock
that forms the greater part of the hill has been broken off or
rent asunder with the greatest nicety, presenting huge columns
of granite, more or less square, on a nearly perpendicular face of
rock. If you take a piece of paper (stiff writing paper is the best)
fold it backwards and forwards in creases about three-eighths to
five-eighths of an inch thick alternately, it will give you a very
fair representation of the cliff as I saw it : nor did I see a cor-
responding rent anywhere in the rock on the opposite side. We
now descended the slope and entered the pond-like arm of the
river, or lac sale, as it is here called, which signifies a salt lake, or
a salt water lake-like bay of the sea. or river, which latter it is in this
case. We had a nice path across lac sale, as, in fact, we did on
nearly or quite all the ponds between there and our journey's end,
and on this little arm of the sea, not a mile in uneven extent of
coast line, we saw hills, cliffs, and wooded slopes on either hand
around, nor was the passage through which we were to pass visible
anywhere before us. It was a complete picture, and worthy the
pencil of an artist.
We crossed a small pond directly after passing the salt lake just
mentioned, and enclosed, like it, with high hills on either side.
It was about on the same level with the water which we passed. Be-
tween lac sale and this pond, we found a long, narrow pass, where
the rocks came close to the passage with their abruptly broken
sides and edges gently sloping upward to low, rounded crests on
either hand. Through the pass thus formed flowed a small stream
of water running over rocks, the bed of a brook, and evidently
broken pieces from the neighboring hills. It formed a pretty sight
to see this little stream in such a natural and yet rather unlooked-for
place, and the broken ice above showed the quite clear water as it
flowed gently beneath.
198 COUNTRY ABOUT SALMON BAY.
Soon these scenes of picturesque beauty began to be familiar
to us though we never tired of them \ while the new scenes or new
variations of old scenes repeated the picture in a more beautiful
manner and added the charm of freshness and expected change
to those which were to come. The long, narrow portages soon
gave way to wider and broader tracts of country through which the
way wound as before. The hills were reduced to low crests, and
open field-like slopes on ridge and high level plains appeared in
the distance. We soon crossed Salmon Bay, coming out of a long
arm-like expansion of the neighboring lands, and which formed the
centre of three, all similar expansions, the right and left of which
appeared more like sort of bays or rounded arms, as one looked
back upon the view from the opposite side of the bay. One or
two houses were visible, the first seen since leaving the river, a
distance of some five or six miles behind us. And here we came
to another of these strangely formed places or ridge-like openings
in the valley, between hills so often seen in different places all along
the coast, and which remind one of artificial, though they are in
truth quite natural, terraces. The height of this formation is about
thirty feet, its top is nearly level. On the left, looking towards the
sea, are the high hills of Bradore — though I do not mean the Bra-
dore hills so called, which are over eleven hundred feet in height
and situated some way back in the country, while those of
which I speak form the boundary of Bradore Bay on its extreme
western side and are only about four hundred feet high — with a
rather abrupt slope to this ridge. On the right a rather low crest
separated it from the sea. The ridge itself slopes to the water
on each side, at an angle of about 30° on the Salmon Bay, and by
a gentle rather than abrupt slope on the seaward side. The ridge
points in a northeastward and southwestward direction as do most
other similar ridges where I have seen them, and the direction of
the slopes, and general appearance of the top of the plateau
suggest to one's mind the final resting place of some arm of the
mighty Labrador glacier before or rather during the final plunge of
CARIBOU ISLAND AND VICINITY. 199
its huge mass of ice into the sea. Surely these well-defined and
peculiar shaped plateaus are of glacial origin, and being in all
cases, so far as I have seen them, of pretty much the same form
and shape, the suggestion is of a common glacial one. Before we
leave the subject a few words about Salmon Bay maybe of interest.
Salmon Bay, like the majority of the long, fiord-like bays so numerous
on the coast east of it, is a long, rather narrow inlet, about four
miles in length, extending into the land in a northwesterly di-
rection. At its mouth Caribou Island, a little island a mile wide
and a mile and a half in extent, occupies the greater part of the
western side of the entrance ; beyond a small pond-like piece of
water, about three-quarters of a mile in either direction, is nearly
enclosed by the small points of land that reach towards each other
from the opposite side of the basin which admits one to the bay
proper. In summer this is the seat of one of the largest fishing
posts on this portion of the coast. Some eight or ten establish-
ments here employ about one hundred and fifty men, and seven
cod seines valued at twenty-five hundred dollars are used in the
fisheries.
I must not forget that the country to the east of Salmon Bay,
and before reaching the high cliffs and bluffs just next the river, is
rather low, and made up of rounded crests of hills covered here and
there with a scanty vegetation, presenting something of the appear-
ance of a hilly New England farm lot. The tops of the hills were
strewed with a few loose stones either broken from the rocks them-
selves or left there by some agency of ice or water. The same
general features existed in most parts of the bay on both sides,
and as I looked upon^he scene I could almost imagine the mighty
force that, slowly pushing itself and creeping onward by its own
plastic mobility down the channels from some interior region,
gradually ground off these hill tops, and scattered these stones, while
it levelled the feeble barriers that attempted to confine it to the
land, and buried itself in the sea.
From Salmon Bay, across a narrow plateau-like ridge, we de-
scended to the sea again — frozen in a mass oficy needles that flashed
200 FIVE LEAGUES AND VICINITY.
and glittered in the sun, most treacherous and cutting to the dogs'
feet, the precursors and frequent occasion of that malady, so terrible
in these regions, snow blindness — and continued our course — with
a glimpse of the far-off shores of Newfoundland, towards which
spread an icy plain with a distant channel of open water, at our right,
and the shore, skirted with the broken and fantastically shaped
blocks of ice that lay piled, in all sorts of positions, on or against
each other often several feet high, like tide marks on the left, —
across the three full miles of Five Leagues Harbor to Five Leagues
Point, the residence of a well known and thrifty fisherman and
seal-catcher. Taking a cup of tea here, we continued our way to
Middle Bay, on the east side of which, with another friendly ac-
quaintance, we took our dinner and nooning before continuing
farther. As we had made full sixteen miles since morning, both
the dogs and ourselves needed and enjoyed this rest. After our din-
ner, which consisted of bread and tea, the latter a concoction of the
twigs or rather boughs of the spruce, which are often used as a
substitute for the real article and so carefully prepared that it is
sometimes hard to distinguish from an inferior quality of it, we har-
nessed our dogs, and were once more on our journey.
I cannot quite recollect the exact position of the house of this
hospitable fisherman, or of a large, old-fashioned, red-painted,
country looking house that we passed somewhere here, which looked
more like a comfortable establishment than any I had seen for a
long while, and which, though I did not stop there, no doubt
would have fully equalled the expectations excited from the outside
appearance. Behind this was another of those peculiar ridges
such as have been mentioned as occurring in other localities. As
the direction of Middle Bay is about north northeast, this narrow
ridge barely separates the eastern baylet — if I may use the word —
of the bottom of the bay, from the western baylet of the opposite
or Belles Amour Bay. The intervening neck (the ridge I have
mentioned) extends outward on either side and forms a square
block of land nearly two miles each way ; on this are one or two
BRADORE AND VICINITY. 201
fishing establishments that yield or ought to yield a good profit to
their owners, but I sadly fear that industry is greatly crippled here
as in other places about the Labrador coast, by a feeling that says
let well enough (which is sometimes poor at best) alone, and hin-
ders any real progress either in wealth or desire for cultivating the
intellectual qualities.
I have been struck with the really musical and pretty names which
appear all along the coast, and bear the marks of that society lan-
guage— the French. Belles Amours signifies something like loves
or passions of beautiful women, and undoubtedly took its name from
some conquest of love by or over some fair inhabitant of the place.
We now descended to the famous Bradore bay, the " Brest" of
the early inhabitants when Cartier discovered the St. Lawrence,
when Cabot discovered Newfoundland, and when Corterel is said
to have discovered Labrador. The shape of this bay is very nearly
that of an acute angled triangle — the upper side, extending due
east by north, in an almost straight line for nearly seven piles ; the
other side (which I shall call the outer side) due north by slightly
west (the centre part bulging out giving to the whole side the appear-
ance of a bent bow with the end slightly recurved) for six miles ;
while the base, or a straight line from the extremity of Stony Point
its western, to the extremity of Grand Point its eastern, boundary,
the distance is eight miles. The only island of any account in
this large bay is called the Ledges Island and is about a mile wide
by a mile and a half long only. It is about a mile from shore near
the centre of the outer side, and, with a few scattering rocks, forms
a mass of dangerous shoals in this northeastern end of the bay.
The little island near the land on the extremity of the outer side,
and quite near Grand Point, is Paroquet (also spelled Peroquet)
Island. It is a very small island, a mere rock rather than island
scarcely half a mile in either direction, but small as it is it is as noted
perhaps in its way as any of the larger islands on the coast. As its
name would indicate, it is the abode of the paroquet or puffin, the
sea parrot as it is called, or the Fratercula arcticus of the or-
nithologists. On this small island thousands of these plump little
SCENE ON BRADORE HEIGHTS.
birds, with their huge scissors-shaped, horny bills, collect in the sum-
mer and breed in large companies. Their nests are made in holes
in the ground, which is tunnelled with their burrows in every
direction. A great trick of the inhabitants with strangers who visit
this island is to get some person — the greener the better — to
put his hand into the hole when the bird is within sitting upon its
eggs. If you could but see the bill, you would readily understand
why the attempt is never made a second time. Imagine a huge pair
of horny scissors, two inches long, two inches high at the base, and
half an inch thick yielded with force, and no wonder one does not
care to repeat the experiment.
As the ice in Bradore bay was not all quite fast, that is, as open
water appeared on it in many places, we were obliged to take to
the hills and cross by the land. The hills and high cliffs which
everywhere skirt the north shore, sometimes almost perpendicular to
the water at their base, sustain a plateau extending far back into the
country. A mass of hillocks crowns its summit, varying from
two hundred and seventy-five to three hundred and twenty-five
feet above the sea-level. The whole plateau, if I may so call it,
spreads out for a long distance inland, and forms nearly or quite all
the country upon the upper side of the bay line. During our whole
ride over these hills the constant sight of something new, the
unlooked-for contrasts presented here and there, rendered the trip
across them a source of pleasure and delight — one well worthy
the express journey of some geologist or glacial specialist, who
should read to us the sermons these rocks contain. Now a long and
wide (almost level) plain with its rather uneven surface would end in
a row of low crests of unequal height, beyond which the slope would
carry us some fifty or seventy-five feet to a pond ; beyond a varied
plain and hilly patch of ground would often give place to another
pond, almost at a level with the surrounding hillocks. Snow covered
almost everything, and only the rounded or broken hill-tops, and
the rough pieces scattered from their place in the rock thus crushed,
Or scattered over the slopes by some mighty agency, here and there,
BR ADORE TO BLANC SABLON. 203
rather evenly though sparingly deposited, alone offered a glimpse of
the appearance of the surface beneath the snow. These blocks
were for the most part very angular, often nearly square ; occasion-
ally a rounded one appeared, and I saw one huge, almost round
stone, nearly two feet through each way, balanced nicely between two
upright rocks, while on the opposite side an almost perfect and
solid block cube of stone was nicely balanced upon the fine point
of a small upright chip of rock, from which but a slight push would
have dislodged it, — as also the rounded stone opposite — showing
that the force or agency that left it there could hardly have been a
convulsive, but rather a slow-moving and methodical one. At the
northeast corner of the bay we took to the ice again, and finding it
firm and hard we skirted along the edge of the outer side, and
crossing Grand Point — where the formation begins to differ from
what I have just described, and to take on the aspect of the whole
plateau this side of Bradore and extending to Forteau bay, a distance
of some eleven miles across, being a sandstone deposited in regular
layers of which I shall speak soon — we landed at Blanc Sablon,
the eastern termination or boundary line of the Province of Quebec.
Beyond, the whole broad plateau or table-land of Labrador
proper extends. It exists as a dependent of the provincial gov-
ernment of British Newfoundland, to which Labrador pays duty
and tribute in the shape of revenue on all goods received within
its boundaries.
I will now speak of a little cove on the southern end of this
eastern side of Bradore bay. I am almost certain that it is that
portion marked in the charts where the water encroaches upon the
land in a semicircular-like baylet almost directly opposite Paroquet
Island. I discovered here a beach of pure sand, extending backward
into a series of regular hillocks of sand or sand dunes, as they are
called, which rise above the level of the surrounding country back of
them. That they appear in this place, marking as they seem to do
the separation between the Bradore granite and Blanc Sablon sand-
stone, and running away back in gentle slope to what seems to have
been once a bay of the sea with its nearly level extension between a
204 L'ANSE AUX DUNES.
high plateau on either side, is perhaps rather remarkable, and of
geological interest. The peculiar name given to this place of
L'Anse aux Dunes, would seem appropriate were the word dunes in
French translated dunes in English — the word anse signifying a
small bay or cove. Here five or six men set some nine nets for
seal in the spring, and also catch a few salmon and cod in the
summer, but it is only a small station at best. Near the water the
beach was strewn with shells, especially of the razor-billed clam as
it is often called, and a variety of sea animals, while huge drifts of sea-
weed, like that so common in many places on the coast here and
on the Atlantic generally, were entangled with blocks of ice and lay
around from nearly one end of the beach to the other. That night
we spent at Blanc Sablon, having travelled a distance of twenty-five
miles, nearer thirty by the route we took, since leaving home in the
morning ; accomplishing the whole, including stops and all, in a
little less than ten hours. The distance would have been gone over
in much less time had the dogs been properly shod; but, as
it was, the ice cut their feet so badly that blood flowed in nearly
each print in the snow or on the ice, while the poor animals were
quite stiff and lame the next morning.
Of Blanc Sablon I shall say very little, as I had so little time here
to visit the place. On all sides of the harbor the country was one
mass of stratified deposit of sandstone, as is the whole plateau, as
I have before called it, between this place and Forteau. On the
western side of the harbor the deposit is much broken, numerous
hill-like elevations and broken ridges cover the surface everywhere
on the tops of which a scattered vegetation flourishes ; on the east-
ern side the deposit forms a ridge that extends for some distance in
a north and northeasterly direction. For a mile or so in a north-
erly direction the water, retreating, has left the hollow occupied
formerly by the sea so perfect that but little imagination is required
to trace the former outline of the harbor. With the place itself
I was much pleased. It is a busy looking station, and from its
geographical position, large size, and importance as a fishing locality,
it is often called the Boston of Labrador. It contains perhaps a
BLANC SABLON AND VICINITY. 205
hundred buildings on both sides the harbor and the adjoining
islands, of which I shall speak presently, and some three hundred
inhabitants, increased to twice that number in the summer and fish-
ing season. The "large room," as it is called, contains an abundance
of articles for iale or trade in exchange for furs, fish, and other
articles used as a fair medium of exchange, at their current price
either in trade or cash. The stock is owned by merchants from the
isle of Jersey in the English channel — whence a great number of
people come who live on this coast — and now in charge of a smart,
gentlemanly clerk already some eight years in the companies' em-
ployment though still in his teens. The fishery connected with
this same firm, employing some ten men in winter, and eighty in
summer, is perhaps the largest in the place, and no wonder this
young fellow clerk who oversees the whole is called the young
master, while he still holds his position and retains the confidence
of his employers as well as his employes. The two important islands,
just outside the harbor, are Wood (Vile au Bois as it is usually
called) and Greenley Islands. The former contains several fishing
establishments, and another shop where various articles are bought
and sold, and is the larger of the two being about two miles long, of
triangular shape, with the apex pointing northwest, and a base about
a mile wide facing southeast ; the latter the light island, where the
lighthouse is situated, one of the only two upon the coast from
Point des Monts in the river St. Lawrence, eastward. It lies west
and a very little south of Wood island, and is scarcely three-quarters
of a mile either long or wide. To give a little, perhaps rather dry
detail, I find the light described in the report of the Canadian
government, somewhat as follows : "light upon the S. W. part of the
island, latitude, 51°. 22' 35", longitude (west of Greenwich), 57°
10' 50". Single light, revolving white for j, then red ^, then white
again £, blank i£ minutes (three minutes for full revolution). The
tower octagonal, wooden with dwelling attached, 100 feet high, the
light visible fifteen miles. It is an established light of the second
order, and a fog gun is fired every half hour."
Taking a good rest at the house of the friendly people with whom
206 HOW THE INHABITANTS LIVE.
we had taken up our quarters for the night, we gave ourselves to
the enjoyment of the clear, cool, evening air, and soon after supper
retired to sleep. The people in many places along the coast where
I have visited, at least the men, have a habit of closing their day's
work in winter with their supper. At that time all the work of the
day is supposed to be over, and after the meal the principal occu-
pation is visiting one's neighbors and either there or at home spend-
ing the evening in chatting, and smoking very poor and bad
smelling tobacco, which, however, seems to be the best the coast
affords. What would at home be thrown away as worthless is here
sold in large quantities for a high price. I mention this fact to
show the imposition often practised upon these people who are un-
able to help themselves, and who must either put up with it or go
without ; strange to say, most prefer to put up with the bad article,
and hundreds of hundred-weight boxes of bad tobacco are used
each season. Nearly all of the men on the coast smoke, and it is
very rare to find a man, old or young, to whom the pipe is a stranger,
or who does not use tobacco in one form or another. Even the
young boys smoke as soon as they can secure the necessary articles.
It seems to be a matter of pride with them here as elsewhere, and
the fellow who can begin the earliest and smoke the most tobacco
is the best fellow, and takes the lead among his comrades and
companions.
The houses here are much like the houses elsewhere, a huge
kitchen and sitting-room with a small bedroom on the ground story,
and a loft with two rooms reached by a ladder leading to a small
aperture about two feet wide in the floor above. The bed or bunk
is roughly made, and more often the mattress simply lies on the floor.
The people with hardly an exception are fishermen, and the best
off are poor compared to what they might be should a spirit of
economy and industry take possession of them and drive away the
spirit of procrastination. The occupation during the day is chiefly
that of mending and netting nets and seines, or laying plans for
and chatting with neighbors on the next season's work among the
fisheries. The fishing season is usually from the first of May, the
EASTWARD OF BLANC SABLON. 207
opening of spring, until the first of September, the beginning of
cold weather, but during these four months all is stir and excitement
both day and night. Men in boats are out fishing all the time, and
every device thought of is put into operation for the securing of a
good " catch," as the work of the season is called. Labor is cheap,
and none but lazy persons fail to enter into the full excitement of
the occasion ; these well deserve the poverty brought upon them
by their own idleness and want of exertion. I have known whole
families to exist on the charity of their neighbors with perhaps only
a single or at most two barrels, one of flour and the other of meal,
during the long six months of winter ; but the idle always have
their own reward, at least on this coast where no one is rich enough
to supply such persons at their own expense, even if they were so
disposed.
Early the next morning we tackled our still lame and tired dogs
and proceeded on our journey. The dogs went badly at first but
they bravely overcame the tendency to weakness, caused by their
lame feet, and soon trotted along at so brisk a pace that, but for
the occasional drops of blood left in their tracks from wounds
made by the sharp ice cutting their feet, one would scarcely notice
their tendency to fatigue. We soon climbed the steep, high hill
directly back of the houses and the ridge or rather long, low gran-
ite mound — if one may so call it — and found ourselves on an
uneven plateau of sandstone, the upper surface of which looked
much like that of the Bradore granite ; but while the vegetation
on the Bradore Hills was scant and poor, here dwarf spruce and
fir trees showed occasional green tops and branches from beneath
the snow ; while broken and cut sticks, appearing in all directions,
showed where the ground, once completely covered with these trees,
had been cleared for fuel, and left to again grow over, probably
for the same ultimate use. I could not but reflect that I was riding
over a mass of stratified sandstone, extending miles in three di-
rections with the sea at the south, and once a part of the ocean,
which receded either by elevation of the land, by sinking of the sea
basin, or a combination of both. With about the same slope that
L'ANSE AU CLAIRE.
we ascend from Blanc Sablon to this plateau, we descended to the
bay on the opposite side from an elevation of about four hundred
and thirty feet, and, as I later observed, the slope was nearly the
same on the southern side also, though the distance passed over
here was only about three miles.
The ride was so full of interest that I scarcely realized when a
view of the little inlet of St. Claire or L'Anse au Claire Bay came
upon us quite unexpectedly, and the ride down the hill and along
the western bank of the bay afforded a fine view of the surrounding
beauties of nature. Here we took dinner with a most excellent
family, and the pleasant conversation of both host and hostess, who
were great friends with my guide, proved most interesting. The
gentleman who had for a long time resided here as a fisherman —
and certainly a very intelligent one — gave me much useful inform-
ation about the country, and stated the fact that he had, from
personal examination, found that this same sandstone formation
continued beneath the sea, as he found from "soundings while fishing
for cod, and appeared again on the Newfoundland shore, which is
here about fourteen miles across its nearest point. I saw here, also,
that this little bay partook of the same general character of so many
other bays along the coast here, and distinctly showed the former
extension of the sea in its basin beyond, while the limestone cliffs
and hillocks appeared in all directions, to the right, to the left, and
directly ahead. After our dinner and a little time allowed for rest-
ing ourselves we continued our journey in a cool, bracing air, across
the bay. We ascended the opposite ridge, a continuation of what
we had just passed over, and with a similar height above the sea,
only perhaps with a rather more even surface, and crossing several
large ponds, continued our way over these hills in a triangular
direction to the height above Forteau Bay, a distance of five miles,
passing through a slight snow fog, a peculiarity of this district per-
haps (though I am assured of rare occurrence in the month of
March), which, barely lifting, gave us a hazy view of what was
around. We now descended, in a tremendous hurry, the famous
steep Forteau hill, that is situated here, to the bay ; the dogs could
FORTEAU BAY. 209
not keep up to the sled in spite of double drags, or huge rings of
thick rope, thrown over the runners, fall between them and the
snow and form a powerful resistance to the forward motion of the
sled, — yet we reached the bottom in safety.
As this is another of the important indentations of the coast, it
may be well to give simply an outline of the principal points of inter-
est connected with it. If then we measure the distance between Point
Forteau on the western and L'Anse Amour on the eastern extremity
of the bay, we shall find a straight line between these two places to
run in a northeast by easterly direction for a distance of nearly four
miles. The outline of the bay itself is triangular ; the apex from
the centre of the -mouth of the bay lies inland in an almost ex-
act northwesterly direction. The western side of the bay is nearly
straight, while the eastern represents the figure 5 with the dash at
the top off, and the curve at the bottom of the bulge not quite
reaching a point exactly below the straight line above as it neces-
sarily does in a well made figure of that character. Of course
there are many little irregularities of coast-line, but the general
form is quite as I have described it. At the extremity of Amour
Point stands Amour lighthouse, the other of the two lights on
the coast, and which will soon be described. Strange as it may
be, Forteau Bay basin shows still another of those plainly marked,
former extensions of the sea to some inland point ; and, as this
peculiar sandstone formation ends at the beginning of the bulge,
on the eastern side, the whole forms an even plateau from Blanc
Sablon to this point. A formation of more or less stratified lime-
stone then begins, whose eastern terminus I have not yet ascertained,
though it is said to extend under the sea and appear again like
the sandstone at L'Anse Claire, on the opposite Newfoundland shore.
The whole thus presents an interesting field for future investigators,
as it forms an additional link in the chain of points of interest,
whose combination forms a culmination of great geological import-
ance in reading the former history of the region. It was quite
fortunate that at about five o'clock in the evening we were so
near our journey's end, for it would have been an easy matter
H
210 L'ANSE AMOUR.
to have tracked us across the bay ( Forteau Bay I mean ) on
the ice by the blood alone from the dogs' feet. We had six dogs in
our team, three full grown and three young ones. As there were not
enough shoes for all of them even when we started, and as we had
not been able to procure a sealskin or any canvas to make others
to replace those already worn out, by this time most of the dogs
had one or two shoes only, while one had none. We had driven
him without any all this distance, nearly twenty miles, because hav-
ing a full set of four nice shoes, he had turned to and pulled them
off with his teeth and eaten them up at our last stopping place, and
his punishment was tying his mouth up tightly and driving him as I
have said. This fellow bled from all his feet, and nearly all the others
showed drops of blood in each footprint ; but there was no help for
it, and so we kept on as well as possible until our destination was
reached.
Forteau Bay is the first bay of any importance on the Labrador
peninsula, and though the principal port on this part of the coast
is Red Bay, twenty-two or twenty-three miles farther east, the
former is not without its objects of general interest. Each side
of the bay is lined with buildings, — houses, shops, and fishing
store-houses — to the number of some twenty or thirty. On the
eastern side of the bay a neat little church, well built and painted
white, rears a small but homely looking, short, square steeple with a
small spire upon it against the dark background of the ridge
beyond ; by its side stands a tastily built parsonage, silently awaiting
occupancy by some quiet and practical Christian people whose
"charity shall begin at" this their village "home," and end there also,
which, wisely administered, "shall cover" for the people "a multitude
of sins." And truly the people here need such a family, for they
are sadly deficient in intellectual ideas, neighborly charity in little
things, and personal virtues, though there are many exceptionally
fine families among these plain, rough, good-hearted people.
It was just about dusk when we reached our destination on the
extremity of L'Anse Amour, and being Saturday night we looked
for a quiet rest on the following Sunday, both for ourselves and
A SUNDAY OF REST. 211
our sore-footed dogs. It was a nice old-fashioned couple that met
us here, and, sending the boys to take care of our team and the
articles upon it, they invited us into the house, where, after cordial
greetings ( for the guide was well acquainted here ) they placed
before us, for refreshment, cups of hot tea and buttered graham
bread — the first I had seen on the coast. The large house, with its
low studded ceiling and ample apartments, presented a cosey and
homelike appearance. The kitchen served as a dining-room and
place of general assembly, and there we all met together, — those
who smoked did so, and those of us who did not made ourselves
comfortable and looked on, while we all chatted pleasantly together
until supper time ; this over, we spent the evening in chatting
pleasantly and familiarly with our host and hostess.
Sunday, March 6. Two pleasures fill me to-day, the oue that
I am here in a new place with the beauty and freshness of new
scenes before me, the open bay in front, the sea with a distant
view of the Newfoundland coast at the left, and a huge bank of
limestone containing unknown treasures in the shape of new and
rare fossils behind the house and not a hundred rods away : the
other the prospect of a good, quiet, homelike Sunday with
pleasant people who greet me most cordially, upon my appear-
ing at the breakfast table. The simple but relishable meal
over, the morning was spent in talking, walking, and in reading.
The dinner disposed of — an equally satisfactory repast — all hands
were invited to take a walk to the limestone cliff and see its attrac-
tions. This we did, and were soon examining this mound ridge
of sea- deposit which appears to stretch a long distance in a north-
westerly direction, though just how far I could not tell. The edges
of the cliffs, here some seventy-five feet high, were exposed, and
presented a most uneven, and irregular jagged surface, facing the
sea ; below, the broken pieces that had tumbled down by weather,
wind, frosts, rain, and their own weight, strewed the ground every-
where in a sloping pile of fine chips — like slate rock — and stones
of various sizes with occasional huge bowlder-like lumps of solid
rock. I picked up several well formed fossils, and accepted our
212 POINT AMOUR.
host's kind invitation to spend a week or more with him in the
spring, when the snow and ice should have disappeared, in examin-
ing the place with reference to its geology and for specimens.
A rough climb brought us to the top of the ridge, and gave us a
fine view of the surrounding sea and country. We had been
followed by eight or ten of our dogs, and it was an amusing sight
to watch their efforts to follow us in our climb, and their repeated
tumbles and consequent slides down the icy slope some fifty feet to
the bottom of the descent. At length we are all safely landed, and
a brisk walk in the strong wind and rather cold, bracing air brought
us to the road. On our right was the lighthouse, but we did not
visit it. It is situated on the extremity of the point, and we learn
from the reports that it is in latitude 51° 27' 35", longitude 56°
50' 55". It is a circular lighthouse, height 155 feet, built in
1855. The light is of the second order, and visible eighteen miles ;
it is fixed and white. A whistle sounds every ten seconds in
foggy weather. This and the light on Greenley Island are the only
two lights on the coast ; no doubt another will soon be built, perhaps
near the rocks upon .which the Edward Cardwell was so lately
wrecked. There at least ought to be one near that point of the
coast, though Beacon or Old Fort Island would seem to be the
best place for it. Our walk home was soon accomplished ; the after-
noon and evening passed away quietly, — a sermon read by one of
our number occupied the latter part of the evening, and we all re-
tired to rest early.
Monday morning we left these kind-hearted people, with many
expressions of cordiality on both sides, and were soon travelling
towards home again, as this was the end of our journey. It was a
bright and clear, cool morning, and the dogs spun merrily along, well
shod and apparently quite over their lameness and sore feet. We re-
turned by the same road as that by which we had come, as far as
L'Anse Claire, and then, veering to the left, followed the coast to
the strangely located abode of another hospitable and well known
family, at the foot of the central point of the sandstone cliff here
situated midway between L'Anse Claire and Blanc Sablon ; this is
RETURNING HOME. 213
called L'Anse Coteau, and occupies a little niche in the coast just
east of the extreme eastern end of Wood Island, which is seen just
beyond the point. The ride around this cliff presented somewhat
the appearance of our walk around the limestone of L'Anse Amour.
The sandstone, everywhere broken, showed us plainly the layers or
strata, and its various colors of brown, red, and gray. We stayed
here over night and continued our journey the next day. Returning
by Bradore bay, which was now quite frozen over and safe to travel
upon, I could now see the appearance of the granite at this point.
Several huge and irregular dikes, apparently of trap, marked the
surface of some of the rocks. Most striking irregularities of break-
age, in some cases amounting almost to cleavage, appeared in the
cliffs and in the pieces broken off and tumbled to its foot. Some
of the bowlders were cleft by frost and weather, while everywhere
evidence of most interesting structure prevailed ; but I had too
little time to spend here, so continued my homeward journey. The
rest of the return trip was pleasant and delightful ; the air cool yet
comfortable, with a clear sky. The dogs, though weary, seemed to
know that they were going home and trotted along quite rapidly.
Soon darkness began to close in upon us, and in a short time
hearty home welcomes and a nice hot supper were the entertain-
ments of the evening. " Early to bed and early to rise," says the
old proverb ; we tried the former part of the saying and soon
drowned our cares in peaceful slumber.
214 CANADIAN PORCUPINE.
CHAPTER XIII.
Canadian porcupine — Picking fall berries in spring — Carrying wood to
summer quarters — Anticipating Fourth of July — Summer quarters in
winter — Capsized — Fox hunt on rackets — A mile of soft snow without
rackets.
THURSDAY, March 10, I spent the day in skinning and stuffing
a porcupine, that was brought in to me by one of the neighbors,
and a most difficult task I found it. The Canadian porcupine
{Erethizon dorsatum) is quite common all along the coast, and
in the interior of Labrador. It is an animal more or less peculiar
to this region, and is generally found in winter by following, on the
newly fallen snow, the impressions of its feet which look much like
the imprints of a small child's foot. It is found more frequently
in winter than in summer, when it comes out from its hiding places,
which are in caves, under rocks, and often in the hollows of trees,
and travels about for food. It lives on berries and the bark of
trees, gnawing them in such a manner that the hunter knows at
once when one of these animals is about, after having found its
cuttings. The animal returns to the same place each day to feed
until its supply ceases, when it seeks a new place. Though naturally
a sluggish animal, the porcupine, when pursued, takes at once to
the tree-tops and is then very spry and agile. When caught upon
the ground it immediately rolls itself together into a sort of ball,
and with spines erected meets the intruder. Only the belly, and
extremities of the animal are destitute of these spines so that it can
be safely attacked only on these parts. The Indians kill it with
a blow from some stick which they carry for the purpose, or, if
TRIP TO OUR SUMMER HOUSE. 215
it ascends a tree, they cut the tree down and then soon dispatch
the animal. It is a formidable object, when thus on the defensive,
for other animals to attack, as to touch it detaches many of the
spines which work their way into the flesh causing terrible wounds.
It occasionally utters a sort of plaintive cry, and this, with many other
circumstances, has won for it, by the whites along the coast, the
name of " Indian papoose. " The Indians regard its flesh very
highly. One can easily see that it is no small job to skin one of
these animals, and that the quills, liable to be lost, afterwards
cause serious trouble should they get into the foot or hand. The
Indians when they wish to use the quills for fancy work, as they
often do, carefully pick them out and arrange them to form
mats, or various ornaments of one kind or another; when the
flesh is to be eaten they are generally hung up over a flaming fire
and singed to the skin, thus burning off all the chaff of the quills.
The young are covered with long, black silky hair with whitish ends.
Friday the nth. This afternoon the snow, melted by the hot
sun, having partially disappeared from some of the elevations,
we picked a dish of nice, fresh berries for supper. Here the snow
covers the red berries and keeps them in a perfectly fresh condi-
tion until the ensuing spring when they are picked and eaten in
large numbers. They taste very fresh and nice.
Saturday, March 26. This day, looking to be a fine one, with wind
south and a mild thaw, seemed* to invite a tramp ; so accordingly,
as the men were to carry out a load of wood to the summer house
on the island — only about four miles distant — I determined to take
my gun and follow them ; the report that a large, white owl had
been seen there, helping materially to decide me in the matter.
The men started off quite early, directly after breakfast, for the
woods, with their dogs and komatiks, to get their load. If the going
is bad, or the dogs are obliged to wear their sealskin or canvas, pocket-
like shoes, only a light load is put upon the komatik, but if the ice
is smooth, and the going good, it is an old saying that you can-
not "load a komatik ;" that is, the sled slips along so easily when once
it is started that you can pile on all the weight that it will hold, and
216 BAD TRAVELLING.
the dogs will draw it with ease. I have known a team of four good
dogs to draw a load of nearly a thousand pounds of iron for eight
miles, and the roads not in the best of conditions.
While the men were piling the sleds with wood — we had two
teams — to carry across to the summer house, I put on my warm
clothing and prepared to accompany them on foot. It was a clear,
beautiful morning, and after walking some little distance the bracing
air seemed to give me renewed spirits ; but soon a misfortune quite
dampened them again, and rendered me unfit both in body and
mind to enjoy fully the sport of the day, or rather the sport that
might have been during the day. This was the loosening of the
stopper of my powder flask, so that before I could stop it, the horn
had swung behind me, mouth downward, and the powder, to the
amount of about half a pound, was instantly a long, black, snake-
like train on the snow beneath. Strange to say, my first impulse
was (thinking that the snow would soon wet it, and that it was im-
possible to collect any again) to utilize the waste ; so imagining that
it was Fourth of July, or Washington's birthday, I cannot remember
which, I hastily drew a match and touched the train. With a whiz
it exploded and a long burnt track alone remained to tell the story.
I had then time to think that but a single load remained in my gun ;
and that the sleds were fast overtaking me.
It was very nearly as far home as forward to the island, and the
thought that a single load will often do the work of a dozen
impelled me forward rather than backward. By this time the sleds
had arrived, and together we went forward at a medium pace, a
fast walk, over the not very good ice toward the island. When i
say not very good ice, I mean bad for the dogs' feet and the easy
running of the komatik, yet not thin. We did not come to thin ice
until the point of the island opposite us was reached, and here we
came upon a narrow platform of thin ice, with the water close to
us on each side, over which we must pass. The water rippled up
to its edge in a treacherous manner, and the surface looked dark,
thin and wet. Thinking that we could clear it, with a shout the
driver urged forward his dogs, and with a rush we made for the
SUMMER QUARTERS IN WINTER. 217
opposite side, but crack, crack, crack; the dogs stood still and
looked to see what was the matter, only for a moment, but that
moment was enough; the ice gave way and the komatik and
its load of wood, on top of which were several jackets, and my
powder horn and gun, slowly sank into the water. To spring from
cake to cake to the firm ice, and to reach down and seize the above
mentioned articles as they were slowly disappearing, and before
they had reached the water, was the work of a moment ; but the
precious articles were saved.
Then came the work of picking out the sticks and reloading the
sled. Fortunately wood floats, and the sled had not been broken or
otherwise damaged (they are made very stout), and soon we were
again on the move. Luckily, nothing was lost, while both myself and
friend, the driver, escaped most miraculously, not having even wet
our feet. Arriving at our stopping place, we left the wood at its
destination, and went up to the house.
How changed the place looked from what I had seen it in the sum-
mer ! It was then fertile and flowering ; it was now snow, snow, snow
everywhere. I took my gun, with its only charge, put in on leav-
ing home very luckily, and started for the hillock on which the white
owl had last been seen ; but, alas ! he was not there. I climbed to the
top of the crest, but could see nothing; on the. crest beyond, still
nothing of the owl ; but on the third crest I espied a fox trotting
off at a slow gait up the ridge'before me, not two hundred yards
away. With my telescope, I could see that it was a red fox, and
that he held up his left front foot, using only three feet to walk upon,
as if lame from being caught in some trap or otherwise, so I deter-
mined to chase him ; no quicker said than done. The fox was about
three hundred yards away from me when the chase began. I saw
him through the glass for a moment as he trotted along the
snow ahead of me, and then taking up my gun, started after him ;
he was just behind the ridge, and I had hoped to gain upon him,
but a fox is a cute animal if he has but three legs to run on, and
by the time I had gained the ridge, he had heard me coming and
was now far to the right and still out of gunshot. On I pressed,
14*
218 A TRICKY FOX.
occasionally losing sight of the game altogether and now having
the stimulus of seeing him before me, either tracking the snow with
blood from the wounded foot, or slowly climbing the hillock in
front. Sometimes he would make a turn to the right, expecting to
throw me off the scent, and often to the left for the same purpose ;
but the island was small, and the ridges so far distant, compar-
atively, that it was impossible, now at least, for him to gain his
object. On we went over hill and dell, sometimes one gaining and
sometimes the other. At last the end of the island was reached,
and the fox was running across a narrow pass, covered with ice,
between this and another island ; I had gained on him and he was
now less than two hundred yards away, so I determined to fire.
Hastily kneeling behind the crest of a hillock, and resting on a
stone there, I fired ; the ball reached the fox but did not hit him ;
and, though I had already run several miles across the island, and
had shot away my only charge, I started in pursuit again, across
the pass and away over the next small island. Here comes the
strange part of the chase ; the footing led plainly across the snow
for a short distance, and then, mingling with another recent one,
diverged ; but which was which I could not tell.
The island was hilly though small ; upon gaining the summit of the
crest the fox had disappeared. Following the slope downward to-
wards a small point of land to the westward, I soon came across
the bloody track of the fox again ; it disappeared when I reached
the front, then appeared again along the edge of the rocks quite
near the ice of the bay and below the rocks. This was a cute
trick to escape detection, but the next step was more so. The
tracks disappeared all of a sudden in the centre of a patch of snow
with moss around it, and not a trace of them could be found
anywhere. I carefully searched the narrow point over, and looked
behind each rock, ascended each crest, examined each old fox
footing, partially filled with drifting snow, so that I could not have
mistaken it, and not a sign appeared. The fine fellow had played
me another of the many tricks for which Sir Reynard is noted, and
left me, four miles from home, heated with running, cross and
FOX HUNTING ON RACKETS. 219
hungry. Vowing vengeance, home I started, awaiting the next
pleasant day for another hunt.
The next day, though more or less snowy and otherwise uncom-
fortable, we went out to the island with another load of wood. I
took my gun, hoping to see some signs of game, and started a little
ahead of the loaded sleds which soon caught up to me, when we
proceeded along together. It seemed as if we never went so slowly,
and though the loads were not large, the previous day's thaw ren-
dered it treacherous travelling. We plodded on cautiously, beguiling
the way with conversation until within a short distance of the island,
when sharp eyes detected, on the slope of a low hillock ( of which
there were several), among the stones and rocks, a small moving
object. A few steps nearer decided the question of what it was, and
no doubt remained in my mind but that my friend the fox was mak-
ing another tour of the island, perhaps searching for me for the fun
of another chase. Several crows, or rather ravens, hovered occasion-
ally over him, and vented their spite in repeated dashes and dabs at
his head, wishing, no doubt, that they could enjoy a good meal from
his carcass, or refresh themselves with his eyes ; but no such fortune
for them occurred, and we saw him slowly disappear over the ridge,
trotting in the direction of the komatik and ourselves, whom he
evidently had not yet seen. Seizing my gun, which was lying on
top of one of the loads, I started on the run to head him off and
try and get a shot.
It was hard work running on such snow, and I sank to the knees
at nearly every step ; but passing over the ridge I saw the fox
climbing the opposite slope ahead of me. He had turned, appar-
ently, and started off in a new direction ; so I started off after him.
Soon he disappeared over this second ridge, and when half-way up
the bank, chancing to turn around, I saw a fox just crossing the
path by which I had come. For a moment, and only a moment, I
hesitated which one to follow — then, turning, I started for the
nearest and one last seen. The fox used only three feet (the other
bleeding from some trap wound) and did not run fast ; yet I was
obliged to do my best to keep up with and not lose sight of him.
At last I gained perceptibly. I could see his black tail and stern —
220 A WINTER TRAMP WITHOUT RACKETS.
it was probably a cross or patch fox — and soon, making for a huge
rock in the centre of an almost level plain, I had a chance, long
shot. The ball sped swiftly along and missed ; but it struck so
near as to bewilder the animal, who, for a moment, seemed unde-
cided which way to turn, but quickly disappeared over the ridge.
I followed him until too tired to run farther, and was obliged finally
to give up the chase and returned to my companions quite crest-
fallen, yet ready for another trial.
Sunday, the 2 yth. We are alone, the family having gone to visit a
neighbor about eight miles away, and it does seem a relief to be
quiet — to hear no noisy children, and no rough, coarse scoldings
or threats of violence to them in case of disobedience. The day
was pleasant, and we all enjoyed it ; it seemed more like Sunday
than any similar days we had passed, to me at least, while on this
part of the coast. The evening came before we really knew it.
Monday the 2 8th was a damp, snowy/ dismal day ; we all remained
in the house and amused ourselves as best we could in reading,
and writing, or netting nets and winding twine. Towards evening
several of the neighbors, whom we knew well, came in to chat with
us, and thus this day passed like many others.
Wednesday the 3Oth. To-day I took a tramp with two or three
others, inland over the ponds : but we carried no rackets and
found the walking terrible. In many places we sank to our arm-
pits, and we were obliged to progress Indian fashion, that is, crawl
on the hands and knees, using a long, round stick, with which to press
upon the snow while extricating ourselves from the drifts. It was a
most tedious and difficult work. We would walk on the treacher-
ous crust for a few steps, then sink in with one foot up to the knee,
recovering our position only to fall in with the other foot and again
to sink nearly to the armpits. The stick then kept us from sinking
farther — the snow often being fifteen feet deep beneath us, — and
we would slowly and with difficulty crawl out and onward. Thus
we soon were obliged to turn back, and though having gone scarcely
a mile we were completely tired out when we reached home. I
shot several species of birds, however, which paid well for all my
trouble.
WORK AT SUMMER QUARTERS. 221
CHAPTER XIV.
Preparing the summer house to live in — Moving out — A spring rescue —
Seals on ice — Larks — A home scene — Spring duck shooting — Re-
pairing the boats — Visit to the Indians — Indian canoes — Netting nets
— Labrador mail — Natural scenery of Labrador — Repairing canoes —
Visit to Eskimo graves — Ornithological notes.
DURING the early part of April the weather still continued cold and
disagreeable, while it snowed more or less the whole time. About
the middle of the month we could spend the greater part of the
day at the island in refurnishing our cabin, and soon had the roof
finished, the inside ceiled, and the partitions put in their proper
place, while new flooring was laid down up stairs. While this was
in progress, the boys cleared up around the house outside as much
as possible considering the amount of work in progress, and a
couple of good, stout men wielded a large saw which converted
several huge logs, from a large pile of similar pieces a little to one
side of the house, into boards for the use of the carpenters inside.
All hands worked hard, and one could see the improvement from
day to day, as affairs progressed and drew to completion. Towards
the end of the month the sun got high enough to allow us to move
out again, and the almost new house furnished very comfortable
quarters. There is one peculiarity of the Labrador climate that I
must mention. There is, strictly speaking, no spring in Labrador,
and though the ice does not begin to disappear much before the
end of May — while large masses often remain until July, and ice-
bergs float through the straits even in August — it goes very sud-
denly when once it really begins. In spite of all these drawbacks
there is a certain mildness in the atmosphere that takes the place,
222 MOVING OUT.
apparently, of spring proper, and accordingly it thus becomes pos-
sible to move out of " winter quarters," and into the summer house
in its more exposed situation, from the middle to the last of April ;
strange as it may appear, the time set generally falls on the week
after Easter.
The process of moving out is much like that of moving in,
though in the latter case you go by boat, and in the former by sled ;
as the baggage consists principally of provisions and boxes there is
not much to move. Of course in this region trunks are seldom
used, being replaced by the sailor's chest or carpenter's box which
holds each individual's goods. It was a glad day when we turned
our backs upon the house we had occupied throughout the long,
tedious winter, and finally landed, with our "goods and chattels,"
at our summer house. It was a beautiful morning. The air was
keen and sharp with the freshness of the still lingering winter,
though the absence of that intense cold, so usual at this time, was
marked as quite a pleasant change. The sky was clear, and towards
noon the sun came out warm and nice. The hills were still more
or less covered with snow, yet here and there a suggestion of a
much greener foliage than could have been seen a month earlier
even had made its appearance. The greatest change, however,
occurred in the inroads which the waters of the sea, owing to the
previous mild weather, had made upon the ice of the bay. From
a point of the mainland we could see that half the pass between
the two islands was already open, and far onward and outward we
could view an open sea. I say open sea ; yet though the ice had
broken up, leaving the water visible, there were still large masses
of drift, or as it is called shee-shee ice floating up or down with the
current or drifting about at the mercy of wind and tide, and no
boat could yet be safe far outside. As we stood viewing the waters,
with their distant long lines of drift ice, which resembled the
pictures often seen of arctic winter, we would occasionally see
short, round bodies upon it, that upon inspection proved to be
seals. We could with our glass often see these animals sporting in
the open waters of some lagoon-shaped mass of ice, and occasion-
"SKY" LARKS. 223
ally notice both old and young seal together on the blocks. We
could only look at them, however, since the ice prevented us from
launching the boats, and they were too far off to be reached by
either rifle or shotgun. The distance appeared to be about two
miles and the inhabitants considered it as about such. When
tired of watching the seals, we turned our glass to the loom of
the Newfoundland coast that appeared in the distance like the
rising cloud of a heavy bank of autumnal Newfoundland fog.
Then again, nearer home, the open water in the bay reminded us
that soon the ice would disappear and the boats could be launched.
I was much impressed with the beautiful song of the larks
(Eremophila cornuta} , which everywhere greeted us. Sometimes
they would send forth distant trills as they flew past the island high
over our heads, while at others they would sing the most beautiful
carols as they rose in spirals high into the air ; at still other times
they would hop about the dooryard free from distrust while they fed
upon the scraps scattered for them, for which they had chirped a few
notes of thankfulness before finally taking wing. About this time
flocks of snow buntings filled the air, and lit upon the snowy slopes
of the crests and knolls about the island, hotly chased by the boys
who kill them with stones, or catch them in snares. These birds
are generally tame and unusually fat, which renders them delicious
eating. The yard was now full of busy men ; the doorstep of happy
children ; and the house itself with the industrious housewives — all
intent upon putting things in order for present comfort and future
summer use. Meanwhile the dogs and little puppies enjoyed them-
selves romping over the island, while I remembered the two pussies
as they stood in the doorway, or rubbed about the doorsash, or
stood their ground against some venturesome dog who mildly poked
his nose into and inquired who was within the door. The whole
scene is painted on my memory as one of delight, as the ap-
proaching season wafted its breezes to a house and yard full of
delighted beings who had been cooped up for six long months in
the inmost recesses of a most piratical looking harbor where no
one would have suspected that such a thing as a house ever could
224 SPRING DUCK SHOOTING.
exist. Soon the ducks began to fly, and then such sport as we had.
The king eider came first, then the common eider ; the former is
called the passing, the latter the laying, duck. The birds at first
fly in large flocks, often thousands in a flock, and generally the dif-
ferent species do not mingle. They have a certain course which
they pursue, and the shoals over which they fly are called the
"gunning points." Here the men and boys congregate, and, lying
low, behind some rock or cake of ice, await the flight. Some days
the birds fly thickly, others rarely any pass. The people see them
at a great distance, and often hear the beating of their wings before
they see them. The birds fly over or along the side of the station,
and the minute the head of the flock has passed the first or head
gunner, he rises or turns and fires when all hands do likewise, and
the slaughter begins. Often twenty or thirty birds are thus knocked
down by a party of two or three persons with double barrel guns.
My first spring ducking was in the afternoon of Tuesday, the 1 2th
of April, when several of us drew one of the small, flat boats over
the ice to the clear water beyond, and, launching it, started for the
gunning point. We brought home a good bagful of birds that
night, and you may be sure that they were well served, and well
disposed of the next day.
After a few days' work the house was prepared both outside and
inside for our comfortable abode. A coat of blubber — or the
remains of the livers of the codfish, after the oil has been boiled
and tried out of them — as a final touch was put on to the roof
with an old broom, and the whole declared to be water-tight, as a
hard rain soon proved it to be. We were now comfortably settled,
and viewed with satisfaction the progress made each day in the de-
struction of the bay ice, and the lessening of the snow on the hills
beyond and the ground about the island, by the rays of the sun
which gained strength each day as the season advanced.
The men now turned their attention to the boats, and began
repairing them for immediate use when the ice should break up
enough to enable them to be launched.
Monday the i8th. I visited the Indians this afternoon, and
BIRCH-BARK CANOES. 225
completed a bargain for the purchase of an Indian canoe. These
Indian or birch-bark canoes are getting to be more and more valu-
able all along the coast. Formerly the bark grew in abundance in
certain localities on the Labrador shores, but the call for it lately
has been so great, since both boats and huts are made of it, that
the home supply has become exhausted, and the Indians now send
for it to Anticosti, and even Gaspe on the south shore of the St.
Lawrence, whence the greater part is now obtained. The Betula
papyracea, the tree from which this valuable product is obtained
has, strange to say, in these regions at least, become nearly extinct.
Of course, the stripping of a tree of all its bark or outer covering
at once kills it. The great danger is, that soon the probably already
limited quantity south of the St. Lawrence will also become ex-
hausted, when, unless considerable growths are found upon the
island of Anticosti, where the Indians were recently engaged in
searching for it, the supply will become entirely exhausted. At
present the Indians, and those whites who are so fortunate as to
have bark on hand, are very sparing of it, and will sell only for
cash to those parties with whom they regularly trade.
An Indian canoe is apparently (to use an American slang
phrase) a most "cranky" affair. It is light, weighing according to
its size from seventy-five to two hundred pounds. The ordinary
canoe is about twelve to fifteen feet long, and two feet and six inches
wide in the centre, its widest part, while the depth is about three
fifths of its width. From the middle both ends taper, cigar-shaped
to the bow and stern. Each end is slightly elevated and pointed ;
but it is needless to describe further the shape of an Indian canoe.
Within this apparently frail craft the natives go from place to place
— of course seldom venturing far out to sea — with the utmost
freedom. I have seen them rocked about near shore in the surf
when it seemed as if the waves would overpower them at any
moment ; and then again I have seen a canoe with a single individ-
ual paddling as easily and regularly through a narrow pass against
high waves that had appeared too dangerous for many of the older
boatsmen with their wooden boats. In these small canoes, that
15
SEAL NETS.
appear to toss and rock about so frightfully to one not acquainted
with their use, whole families of Indians, often comprising three men,
two women, and several small children, will go from island to island
or harbor to harbor miles apart, in most squally weather ; when
thus moving about they carry their luggage with them. What, then,
would be the surprise to see, as is often the case, a canoe literally
and absolutely loaded to within three to five inches of the top with
a family moving, in fine weather, to some location miles farther up
or down the coast. In a number of years there has come but a
single instance, that I can recall, when a load of this kind has been
swamped and any of the family have perished.
It, of course, takes some time for any one to become an adept
in the use of these canoes, and though I finally purchased a good
second-hand one, I made little use of it save to paddle about
around the islands where we were staying, and over to the nearest
island beyond, where neighbors resided, a distance of perhaps a
quarter of a mile from point to point ; but it was most excellent
exercise, and I enjoyed it heartily. The price here of a new canoe
that will hold say four people and their baggage, and eighty odd
pounds, is somewhere in the region of from £7 to £S of New-
foundland money, or, being four dollars to a pound, some twenty-
eight dollars, varying two or three dollars either way. There are
generally but one or two Indians in a tribe that can make a first-
class canoe, and these have their hands full the greater part of the
time.
In the evening we lashed the canoe that I had purchased to our
komatik and started for home.
The next two or three days were spent in netting a net with
which to capture seals. A seal net is an immense affair made of
stout salmon twine, and netted in meshes usually about six inches
from knot to knot, the best size being apparently twenty-seven
meshes wide, with a length of about forty-five fathoms, or about
two hundred and sixty feet. The process of netting is one that
cannot well be described. The needle that holds the twine is of
peculiar make. The meshes are made by doubling the thread over
ARRIVAL OF THE MAILMAN. 227
a small card of the required size, while the knot is tied and the
whole is drawn tight. When made the knot comes on the ridge of
the card and cannot be slipped ; this forms a string of loops into
each one of which the needle is passed while a new series of loops
are knotted on the card just below these. In this way the netter
proceeds with twine, or needle or card, of any size, and fashions a
tightly knotted network of any size he may desire. In this way all
the cod seines, nets or traps, are made, while the six inch seal mesh,
and the quarter or eighth inch bottom to the dip net or lance seine,
undergo the same process. The work, however, is quite easy and
most fascinating.
Wednesday the 2Oth. Great has been the joy of all hands to-day.
The mailman has at last arrived with news from home. Our last
letter bore the postmark of Sept. 23, and here it is over seven
months since knowing whether those we left at home are dead or
alive, or our country prosperous. How eagerly those letters were
read, and the papers studied, I will leave you to imagine. It was
indeed a joyful day.
The winter mail for the coast of Labrador arrives, usually, some
time the latter end of March, by special carrier. This man starts
from Bersimis, which is a small village about one hundred and forty
or fifty miles from Quebec, and for which place the mail starts from
Quebec on or about the first of February, about the fifteenth of
that month. He travels on foot with snowshoes — sometimes by
komatik — with the mail upon his back in a stout leathern bag, and
makes daily marches of from fifteen to thirty miles, according to
the weather and the travelling. Though the distance between
Bersimis and Esquimaux Point, the end of the route generally for
the first carrier, is only about two hundred and six direct
miles, it becomes at least a quarter to a third more by the route
taken, since there are bays to go round and rivers to cross ; so
that often instead of ten it takes twenty days to accomplish the
distance. It is forwarded to Bersimis from Quebec, I believe, by
coach, this being the stage limit ; should it be late, however, the
time is extended so much. As there are houses every few miles
228 LABRADOR MAILS.
apart all up and down the coast it is an easy matter to drop into
one of them for the night, and along the route the mailman is
always welcome. Strange to say, there are branch post-offices at
stated places along the line, and at these places only is the bag
opened, while the carrier takes the letters to the various people to
whom they are directed on his homeward trip ; and even this is
done by courtesy, since it is required by law, I believe, that the
letters shall only be delivered to those to whom they are addressed
by the lawful mailman ; the carrier, being only a paid messenger,
has no responsibility but to deliver the bag containing the letters
and papers in safe condition to the postmaster at the end of the
route, who takes upon himself the responsibility of sending them
along the line by the returning carrier — thus making himself liable,
while trusting only in the good faith of the carrier, to damage for
any losses sustained. At Esquimaux Point, the mail is taken by
another man who has travelled up the coast while the first man
was travelling down. The carrier from Bersimis returns to that
place with the return mail, while the one from Bonne Esperance,
who has thus disposed of the up mail on its way to Quebec, returns
to the former place with the down mail. This is taken in the usual
way, but more frequently by komatik, since the bays are generally
frozen over by this time, and travelling upon them is infinitely
better than over the deep snow-clad hills which here begin to line
the coast. I should have said that the mail first stops at Mingan, a
post of the Hudson's Bay company, where one of that company's
agents is usually an authorized mail agent also. From Esquimaux
Island the mail goes to Natashquan, the next regular office, a dis-
tance of about one hundred miles, and from that place, through a
tract of country the most difficult yet travelled, especially in bad or
mild winter weather. The carrier is often obliged to go over high hills,
away inland, to cross creeks or bays that are not yet frozen over,
and which are scarcely a mile or two across, and atfSt. Augustine,
much out of the regular route, to cross the deep and irregular cut
of Shecatica Bay to Bonne Esperance. The whole distance, thus
reckoned, is about two hundred and fifty miles. Thus from
HOW THEY ARE CARRIED. 229
Bersimis to Bonne Esperance, a distance of about seven hundred
miles, the mail is taken by the carrier who tramps the distance gen-
erally with snowshoes or rackets at the rate of from fifteen to thirty
miles a day, as I have said ; hence, though the mail generally starts
from Quebec on the first or second of February, it seldom reaches
its terminus before the last of March or the first of April. A long
time to wait for one's letters, you will say ; and indeed it is, but you
hardly mind it when your news from home does come, especially
if it be good news.
After reaching Bonne Esperance, a special carrier is sent on to
Blanc Sablon, eighteen miles farther down the coast, with the
remainder of the mail. The peninsula of Labrador proper beyond
receives no mail until the lighthouse steamer, a small vessel which
is sent yearly by the Canadian government at Quebec to supply the
lighthouses along the coast with provisions, oil for the lights, and
coal, brings a second mail, in the early spring, as soon generally as
open water will allow passage. In the summer, the mail comes and
goes, several times in the course of the season, by the traders who
bring it from and return it to Quebec ; while another also arrives
from Natashquan, via packet from Gaspe on the south shore, twice
a month which is taken up by some authorized trading vessel —
most every trader stops at this port — and carried onward; and
still another mail comes from the States via Newfoundland, by a
mail steamer, employed at one of the fishing stations, that makes
bi-weekly trips from St. John's to one or two localities on this part
of the coast. In this way the people on the coast of Labrador re-
ceive and send their yearly mails. A cable runs from Anticosti to
Quebec, by way of the south shore and it is soon hoped that one
will be laid from that island to Mingan, at least, the post of the
Hudson's Bay Company before alluded to, if hot farther down the
coast, — but there is yet much to hope for on this score.
The weather now began to be fine, and the warm sun to melt
away the snow, and turn to green the brown winter-killed leaves of
the plants already brought to light, in the damp mosses on the hill
tops and occasionally on the plains. The birds were becoming
ROBINS — SPRING SCENES.
abundant once more, and apparently sighing for their mates, while
all nature began to rejoice.
I cannot describe the characteristic aspect of a Labrador scene.
It is one peculiar to the region itself and must be seen and felt to
be appreciated.
The extensively broken coast line affords you a varied view of
now sea and now land, in the shape of some island or promontory
of the mainland — the former being more usually the case. High
and low hill tops crown the immediate coast line, in the majority
of places, while often their somewhat distant outline reminds you
much — if you close the view in other directions — of our own
eastern United States scenes of hilly outline in the distant horizon.
A spring month, to one situated on one of these little islands, is
always most delightful. The novelty of busy preparation for the
summer season combined with the animation which all nature pre-
sents as well as the balmy air and the peculiarities of situation and
surrounding objects, cause one to feels a freedom scarcely to be
i magined, since care is thrown to the winds and you immediately
find something that occupies you pleasantly, almost without know-
ing it ; while each day, as it passes, adds to the pleasure felt.
My joy can easily be imagined when, one day, towards the latter
end of the month, one of the men, knowing how I sought for birds
and other natural objects, brought me a robin which he had shot
a short time previous outside the yard, and not far from the house.
It was the first real home bird that had greeted me, and was all the
more appreciated for that. The robin does not appear abun-
dant in Labrador ; though a few breed here, inland and along the
rivers.
This week I rosined the bottom and sides of my canoe. In this
operation, as generally performed by the Indians, the seams of
the canoes are covered tightly with spruce gum and rosin, while
should any leaks appear, they are covered over with a different
preparation usually made by the Indians, thus : a quality of rosin is put
into a tin can, and a small portion of oil — seal or whale, usually
the former — ia added to it, with a very little paint,— white lead — the
"BANQUESE" ICE. 231
whole is then put over the fire and heated. As it melts, oil is con-
stantly added, a little at a time, and the mixture stirred with a stick.
As soon as the substance will drop from the stick, instead of run-
ning freely from the end, the pot is taken off the fire immediately
and the leaks in the canoe are thickly coated with it while yet hot.
An Indian finds a leak in his canoe most ingeniously. After rosin-
ing all the apparent cracks, he goes all over the boat again apply-
ing his lips to every suspicious looking place, and, exerting both
suction and pressure, soon discovers the places where air is still ad-
mitted ; these he rosins, and then his canoe is launched and tested
by paddling a short distance or rolling and rocking it violently
from side to side. If, after a sufficient time, water appears, the bot-
tom is again examined, and redressed with rosin until it is tight.
When an Indian has finished with his canoe for the day, he takes it
out of the water and turns it bottom side up, and, if possible, throws
spruce boughs upon it to keep the sun from melting the seams ; if no
covering can be obtained he leaves it bottom down upon the softest
place he can find, that the bottom may be protected from scratches.
A canoe is always lifted, as so much dead weight both from and
into the water.
One of the peculiarities of a Labrador spring scene is that of
drifting or "banquese" ice. This is ice that breaks up in some
northern locality, and flows, in greater or smaller masses, through
the Straits towards the Gulf and open sea, generally melting by the
time it reaches the Magdalene Islands. The "banquese" ice often
lies a mile or so off shore, and, to the naked eye, appears to be cov-
ered with logs and sticks, apparently from some wreck. A good
glass will show the mistake at once, and you find, with surprise,
that they are so many seals, both old and young. If they are
abundant, boats are put off and the seal-hunting begins.
Tuesday, May 3d. I spent most of the day in examining several
Esquimaux graves, but found only a few old bones, and a substance
resembling seals' hair in each case within eighteen inches to two feet
of the top of the mound. The graves were five in number, but
BIRDS.
everything had disappeared so that nothing of any worth rewarded
my work.
Wednesday the nth. I started off on a trip down the coast, but
not before having secured a specimen of the pintail duck (Dafila
acuta) that one of the men shot while it, with its mate, was feed-
ing in a shallow bay of the sea, in front of the house. It is very
rare in these parts, and seldom seen here, though not uncommon, I
believe, in parts of Newfoundland.
Thursday the 1 2th. Passed into Blanc Sablon to-day ; the bay,
at its entrance, was full of birds of all kinds. I noted several spe-
cies of gulls and terns, including several jaegers, or what are often
called hagdowns or shearwaters, while ducks were plentiful, and the
puffins or paroquets abounded in tens of thousands. Greenley
Island, at the entrance of the harbor, has always been a noted place
for these birds. They breed here in vast numbers, covering the
ground everywhere with burrows. There are now only two or three
places on this part of the coast where the puffin breeds in any num-
bers, and Greenley Island is one of them ; another place is the Para-
keet] Islands, in Bradore harbor. The bird seems now more
abundant at the former place. Though I visited the island, and
made personal observations there, I find that the ground was so
well and thoroughly gone over by Dr. Elliott Coues, some years
previous, that I give his description of this species, as covering the
ground in so complete and natural a manner that I am sure it can-
not fail to interest. Though I have seen and identified nearly all
of Dr. Coues' points here given, a few of them are new however.
He says : — " The habit of collecting in immense numbers at par-
ticular localities during the breeding season, so characteristic of the
whole family of Alcidae, is a trait exhibited in the highest degree by
the species now under consideration. With scarcely the exception
of the common murre, no bird of the family shows so preeminently
gregarious a disposition as does the Arctic puffin. Collecting, as it
does, in thousands, on particular islands of small extent, it becomes
a matter of astonishment that food can be procured in sufficient
PARRAKEET ISLANDS. 233
quantity to sustain them, so that each pair can find, a place to de-
posit its eggs. The pertinacity, too, with which they cling to the
immediate vicinity of their breeding place is remarkable. But a
very short distance from an island where there are thousands, it is
a comparatively uncommon thing to see a puffin. The most ex-
tensive of these breeding places appears to be an island near the
harbor of Bradore, visited by Audubon in 1833, of which he has
written so graphic and instructive an account. The one, however,
that I had an opportunity of visiting cannot be much behind it in
point of the numbers of the birds breeding on it ; and during a stay
of three days I had ample opportunity of examining the island and
noting the manners of its curious population. My visit was on the
25th, 26th, and 2yth of July. Let a short extract from my journal
describe our approach to the island.
u We were now within less than a mile from the island, towards
which all eyes were anxiously turned, and still not a bird met our
gaze. But a few minutes more, however, and they commenced to
appear, flying around the boat or resting on the water j all were
'parrakeets,' and 'tinkers,' except now and then a solitary ' turre.'
They were tamer than I had ever seen birds before, almost flying
into our little whale boat ; it was hard to restrain from firing.
As we rounded the island close to the shore, they came tumbling
out of their holes by hundreds, and, with the thousands we disturbed
from the surface of the water, soon made a perfect cloud above and
around us, no longer flying in flocks, but forming one dense, con-
tinuous mass, and yet not a gun had been fired.
"The Parrakeet Islands are three in number, lying along the
western shore of Blanc Sablon Bay, just at its mouth. The one I
visited is the innermost as well as the largest, though the others are
equally crammed with the birds. It is about a mile in circumfer-
ence ; in shape almost a perfect semicircle, with two points stretch-
ing out and inclosing a snug cove, where only can a landing be
effected with safety. It is abrupt and precipitous on three sides, the
fourth sloping gradually down to the cove. The top is nearly flat,
and covered with a rather luxuriant growth of grass, the soil being
15*
234 HOW PARRAKEETS BREED.
enriched by the innumerable droppings of the birds. The three
sides in which the holes are dug are so steep and precipitous that it re-
quires considerable agility to scramble along them, the danger of fall-
ing into the water being increased by the slipperiness of the soil,
worn smooth by innumerable feet, and continually moistened with
ordure. The sides are composed of soft, loamy earth, with rocks
of every size and shape jutting out in all directions, and afford the
most favorable possible conditions for the excavation of the bur-
rows. The fourth side between the two points is composed mostly
of masses of rock, in the crevices of which the auks chiefly deposit
their eggs ; they very often appropriate the deserted holes of the
puffins.
" The holes in the ground in which the puffins deposit their eggs
(a habit, as far as I am aware, entirely peculiar to the genus in this
family of birds) are excavated by the birds themselves, an operation
for which their powerful beaks, and long, strong, and sharp claws
admirably adapt them. They extend nearly or quite in an horizon-
tal direction, and are semicircular in shape, with the diameter scarcely
larger than is necessary for the free passage of a single bird. They
vary much in length, but the majority are not so deep but that the
egg may be reached by thrusting in the arm to its full extent.
Their course is seldom in a straight direction ; they curve and wind
in a most tortuous manner, many burrows being connected to-
gether by winding passages. The entrances to the holes are worn flat
and smooth by continual paddling from the feet of the birds, and,
as well as the whole sides of the island, are moist and slippery with
the ordure. The sides of the island, just above high water mark to
the very top, are perforated with innumerable holes, but on the top
itself not a single burrow is to be seen.
" At the further extremity of the hole, which is usually a little en-
larged, the single egg is deposited, always a slight bed of dried
grasses being first arranged to keep it from the moist earth. I
have indeed found eggs lying on the bare ground near the entrance
of the burrows, whither they had apparently been dragged by the
bird as it hurriedly made its exit ; but in no instance did I find one
A BIRD WITH A BILL. 235
in its usual position at the farther extremity, that was not upon a
layer of grass. I noticed this fact the more particularly since Au-
dubon especially states that no nest whatever is formed for the re-
ception of the egg. Without for a moment doubting the accuracy
of that great naturalist's observations, the present case is only ad-
ditional proof of the extent to which the birds' habits are influenced
by circumstances ; the position of nests, the number of eggs, etc.,
varying much, and the food changing in a measure with every
change of locality. The eggs measure two and a half inches in
. length, by one and three-fourths in greatest diameter, varying very
little from this standard ; in shape, which is rather rounded ovate,
they differ in being more or less obtuse at the smaller end. The
greatest diameter is nearly opposite the middle. The shell is usu-
ally more or less granulated, but differs much in the extent of the gran-
ulation. The color is white or whitish, varying from nearly pure to
a brownish hue, the latter color being in the shell, and not caused
by soiling or discoloration. They are marked with obsolete, almost
imperceptible dots, spots, and lines of light purplish, mostly con-
centrated into a ring around the large end. There are sometimes
a few irregular splashes of very light yellowish brown. Audubon is
clearly in error when he states that they are simply 'pure white.'
At that date (July 25) they all, with few exceptions contained
young about to be hatched."
A great trick of the Labradorians is to get a greenhorn to stick
his hand into one of the burrows of this bird when the bird is sup-
posed to be within. If you carefully examine the bill — of horn,
nearly two inches in length and about the same in height — one will
see that a most alarming species of forceps may be thus put in mo-
tion, and, as the bird is one of the fiercest of its kind, can readily
imagine why the victim never repeats the experiment.
The number of birds that I saw on Greenley Island was simply
immense, and could easily have been a multiple, and not a small
one, of ten thousand. I have often seen the water covered with a
clustered flock, all engaged in making a hoarse, rasping sound, not
unlike the filing of a saw; this is also done both by the "murre,"
and the " turre," and at such times, which ever species is present,
236 A DAY'S " SHOOT."
they receive from the sailors the name of " guds," from a fancied
resemblance to that sound. When on the wing I seldom if ever
saw them mix with other birds. Though they appear in large num-
bers, at stated times, they disappear, or rather disperse after breed-
ing, almost as suddenly as they came ; yet stragglers do not leave
until the harbors are blocked up with ice. At Greenley Island al-
though there is a large fish-curing establishment, houses, and a
light-house on the northeast end of the island, the birds occupy
the other side unmolested, and are seldom interfered with by gun-
ners ; yet the island is scarcely three-quarters of a mile long in its
longest direction, and even less than half a mile wide. Though I
have used up much space for this bird, I can but finish Dr. Coues'
most interesting description of this strange species of the feathered
tribe, especially as it accords so nearly with our own experience.
He says : —
" Hardly had our boat touched the shore than we leaped out,
guns in hand, and at once scattered over the island. As we wan-
dered along the sides, the affrighted birds darted past us like arrows,
issuing from their burrows beneath our feet and around us, and all
making directly for the water. Those already disturbed flew in
every direction above us, while thousands rested on the water in a
dense mass at a little distance. I took my stand on a flat rock, and
in less than an hour a pile of puffins, more than I could carry, lay
at my feet. Shortly after I commenced firing the birds formed
themselves into an immense circle, of a diameter of perhaps a third
of a mile, one point of which just grazed the island. It was aston-
ishing to see with what precision this circle was preserved, each
bird flying directly in the wake of the one that preceded. I had
merely to stand facing the advancing birds, and no better oppor-
tunity for continual slaughter could be desired. I now realized
what I had been told, but had found hard to believe, that a wagon
might be filled wiih the birds by a tolerably expert workman, shoot-
ing them at just such a moment that they should fall into it. The
poor things seemed not at all aware of the nature of the danger that
threatened them ; flying so close past me that I could almost strike
them with my gun. During the continual firing the birds would
SOME CHARACTERISTICS OF THE PUFFIN. 237
emerge from their holes every minute or two ; and after shooting for
half an hour on one spot I was not a little surprised to see two or
three start out almost from between my feet, and in a great fright
make the best of their way down to the water. On emerging from
their holes the birds generally looked around for a moment to see
what was the matter, and then, in great haste, fluttered and tumbled
down to the water below, in which they immediately dove, and, swim-
ming swiftly under water, reappeared at some distance. From the
countless thousands around me I did not hear the slightest note of
any kind ; they flew in perfect silence.
" The flight of the puffin, when once on the wing, is firm, well sus-
tained, very swift, and performed with short, quick, vigorous beats.
When it takes wing from a rock, whence it can project itself into
the air, it at once supports itself without difficulty ; but when on
the water, it is obliged to flap over the surface for several yards be-
fore it can rise on wing. When getting under way, the feet are
extended backwards and outwards on each side of the tail, which
is spread, but they are soon drawn up, and the tail closed. When
shot at and not touched, like the auks, they swerve from their
course, open and shut the tail, and extend the feet. When stand-
ing on a rock at the entrance of their burrows, where they alight
without the slightest difficulty, they present a peculiar grotesque
appearance, such as is afforded by no other bird.
" When taken in the hand the puffin utters a loud, hoarse, croak-
ing scream, at the same time fighting furiously. They are capable
of inflicting a very severe wound with their powerful bills, easily draw-
ing blood. Their long and strong inner claw is also an effective
weapon, so that by dint of scratching, biting, and struggling, they
proved difficult customers to manage." With regard to this same
claw he says : — " I could not but admire the beautiful provision of
nature with regard to furnishing this bird with the means of excava-
ting its burrows with facility. The inner claw of each foot is very
long, much curved, and excessively sharp. To preserve it so, when
not in use, it always lies perfectly flat, so that the point does not
rest on the ground. In digging and fighting, however, it is held
upright, and then becomes a very effective weapon."
238 "TURRES," AND "MURRES."
With regard to the razor-billed auk, the "tinker," or " turre,"
while on the subject of auks, I will say that I have noticed them
breeding on a small island in almost as large colonies as the parra-
keets. At the Fox Islands, off Kecarpwei River, they are very abun-
dant ; several of us landed, and had about the same sport Dr. Coues
mentions as having had with the puffins ; I noticed them in thous-
ands about several other small islands also, and am informed by
the inhabitants that this species was always very abundant about
this locality while much rarer and replaced by the " murre " farther
northward. They breed in the crevices of the rocks, long, deep,
and narrow ones being preferred. I did not find but a single egg,
but was repeatedly told by the people, that if I took the eggs, the
bird would lay again the next day. The inhabitants systematically
take all the eggs they can find on a given island regularly twice a
week throughout the breeding season, and find the birds so wonder-
fully accommodating that the last batch taken is nearly as numerous
as the first. The " turres " associate both with the " murres " and
the black guillemot. The latter bird lays its eggs, smaller, and
otherwise distinct, in similar situations and often the two are found
breeding side by side, but seldom in any quantities.
With regard to the foolish guillemot, or " murres," I found them
breeding in similar situations and together with the razor-billed
auks. The egg is noted for its variable size and the nature of its
marking. I have taken them all the way from pure white, through
an endless series of blotches, and waved lines of black, purple, and
brown, to an almost pure green, and blue, and even a delicate pink
barely spotted or marked at the larger end. The people on the
coast cannot tell whether either the turre or murre lays more
than a single egg, or whether they sit upon their eggs or allow the
sun to hatch them. I have been told, on apparently good authority,
that they do sit upon their eggs, and consequently are furnished
with a large, bare place upon the lower belly where they have
picked the feathers from themselves in order to make the proper
hollow' in their downy covering for the egg to rest in — but I failed
to notice the spot upon any of the birds shot. I could not ascer-
tain, either, the period of incubation.
BLANC SABLON IN SPRING. 239
CHAPTER XV.
Blanc Sablon again — Northern limits of the bittern — Return along the coast
of Natashquan — Spring scene in Red Bay — Other places — St. Mary
islands — Cormorants — At Natashquan — Ramble about the place —
Appearance of the birds— The Dark Day— Arrival at Mingan.
AT Blanc Sablon we anchored for the rest of the day and night.
I landed, and walked along the beach to examine the general struc-
ture of the place, and found the prospect much more pleasant than
it had been in the winter. I caught sight, for a moment only, of a
small sparrow, which, I distinctly saw had a black cheek and face.
The bird was about the size of a chipping sparrow, and yet I dis-
tinctly noticed a large black patch either on the cheek or chin,
which I could not tell certainly, as he hopped past me into the
rushes beyond the sandy beach, and thence flew quickly to the
other side of the creek. Here, also, I found a person who in-
formed me that, a short time previous, one of the men had shot " in
the marshes a bird with a long neck, long bill, and long legs."
The American bittern (Botaurus minor) is probably not rare here,
being in fact the only bird of the family which we know as venturing
so far north as this region, and undoubtedly this was the bird re-
ferred to.
In the afternoon I took a short walk around the shore.* I crossed
a shallow streamlet that, flowing through a rather wide bed of sand
and small pebbles alternating with patches of muck, of which ma-
terial neighboring lands are largely composed, empties into the salt
water at the head of the bay. The beach here I found to consist of
yellowish white sand.
Leaving this sandy beach we next came to a beach of rocks and
debris from a sandstone ridge close by. After passing several
240 GLACIAL "EVIDENCES."
ridges, all broken and crumbling on their face towards the sea, we
came to a long stretch of mucky meadow, nearly if not quite level
with the sea at high tide. Soon these marshy lands gave place to
long ridges of glacial-worn, rounded, rocky elevations, which run
into the water in the direction of Greenley Island. This singular
formation of rock reminds one much of an immense table, of lon-
gitudinal and transverse elevations and depressions of several acres
in extent, which slowly fall to the sea easterly on both sides.
Several houses and sheds were perched here and there with
apparently little beneath to support them, while the rock itself fur-
nished a natural " fish flakes," upon which fish were spread to dry
in the sun. The direction of these ridges, as they fell off into the
sea, was almost exactly north by east to south by west, and, as they
entered the water, they were pointing directly for Greenley Island,
where a grand confusion of broken rocky debris would undoubtedly
tell the geologist its history. Everywhere were present rounded
tops, and cleft sides of rocks while I was confident I found upon
their surface several glacial scratches lying in about the same general
direction. The whole mass reminds one of an immense checker-
board, where the boundary lines between the squares were deep
clefts and the very top of the squares rounded hummocks, covered
with glacial marks. There is hardly another such location "on the
Labrador," as it is here called, that presents so unusual and decid-
edly remarkable an appearance.
Friday, the i3th. The wind has played us one of its tricks, to-
day, and left for parts unknown. We tried all day to get into
Forteau but were unable. We consoled ourselves however, as well
as possible, with roast duck, and waited for the wind. What little
breeze we did have was dead ahead. Finally we returned to Blanc
Sablon, and prepared to send letters home by a small schooner
that we found leaving that afternoon for Gaspe. Saturday it was
foggy, and we were unable to proceed but a short distance from
the harbor. The gun at Greenley Island lighthouse, and the steam
whistle at L'Anse Loup, kept up a continual hooting, while, near
to, we could hear and almost see — several times we actually did
WHALES, "BLOWING"— RED BAY. 241
see them — the whales as they sported and spouted close to our
vessel, in spite of the foggy weather. We afterwards found
them very abundant in this vicinity, and often saw half a dozen
of them within a short distance of the vessel in different directions,
all spouting at the same time. They were probably of the species
called finbacks, since the " spout " corresponded to this class of
whales more closely, being a single stream sent upwards ten or
twelve feet in an almost perpendicular line, falling back again as
spray in nearly the same place. The sulphur bottom, the Green-
land, and the hump-backed whales, it is said, all blow a double col-
umn of water rather obliquely backwards ; the finbacks, a high
straight stream some twelve feet directly upwards to fall back again
to the same place as spray ; while the sperm whale shoots its single
stream somewhat forward, the spray falling forward and beyond the
head. Whether this distinction holds good in all cases I do not
know, but the seamen insist that it is invariably the case.
During the night the wind sprang up and we drifted nearly to
Newfoundland. In the morning we found ourselves in sight of
houses two miles off the land ; in a short time we would have been
on shore. About daylight the wind started up. The outline of
the Labrador coast, the fog having cleared away by this time, showed
plain and clear. The various buildings along the coast, and the
highlands of Bradore, L'Anse Dune, Blanc Sablon, L'Anse Loup,
Forteau, and L'Anse Diable, appeared in rapid succession. We
noticed particularly the difference between Black or Pirouette
River, with its receding slopes, on the east, while the ridges of
the west coast extended away back into the country in the shape
of huge rows of hills, that, though well wooded, appeared barren
and desolate enough.
On we sailed: from the correspondence of the coast line
to the position of Red Bay on our charts, I felt we must be near
that place ; and soon Saddle Island appeared ahead of us, and, with a
glass, we could plainly see the church on the hilltop, and the houses
on the slopes below. The passage to the harbor of Red Bay is
between Saddle Island and the mainland. It is very small and
16
242 SADDLE ISLAND.
narrow, and scarcely perceived until you are close to the west of
it. The island appears like a part of the mainland. It is probably
one of the most secluded harbors of the coast. Our surprise can be
imagined. We had supposed ourselves at least twenty if not thirty
miles farther up the coast, when we had taken our first reckoning.
When close upon Saddle Island the opening begins first to appear.
The water is deep in the passage — as everywhere in the harbor —
close to the very edges of the land on either side, and though the
passage was small we beat in without the slightest difficulty, run-
ning so near the rocks that our boom nearly touched the rocky
ledge ashore as we tacked ship. Here we entered a new region :
I wish I could picture it to you. The air was clear, fresh, and
crisp. The sky was almost cloudless. The hills presented most
charming natural pictures with their coverings of already green foli-
age. Close to the edge of the water nestled the houses with the
stages and workshops of some twenty-five or thirty families.
When once in the harbor we were shut in completely. The high
top of the crests on Saddle Island prevented even our mast from being
seen, while we were easily led to imagine ourselves in one of those
strongholds of ancient piratical romance, — always so well chosen
and impregnable. In the evening we went ashore and heard a
good, earnest Christian, of the Wesleyan faith, lead a good old New
England service of evening prayer. We afterwards occupied some
time in calling upon various people dwelling here, and found them
very hospitable.
Red Bay is the Newfoundland headquarters, for this part of the
coast, of trade and of the traders. It is a very old settlement, and
contains several very aged native inhabitants. Though there are
one or two large fisheries here in summer, there are twenty-one
families only that winter and live here the year around. A. M.
Pike, one of the oldest inhabitants, told me that he had lived on
the coast for thirty-two years, and that the place was never larger —
except during a little while in the summer — than at present. Of
the twenty-one families, seven are named Pike, three Pennie, and
three Ash. One old gentleman showed me a sample of lead ore
RED BAY HARBOR. 243
which he said had been taken from the neighboring hills, and also
informed me that mica, in large sheets, was abundant not far off;
but no one could inform me as to Labradorite, which, however,
occurs as a bright green and as a black, glittering, scaly variety in
several places along the coast.
As a short description of the harbor may be of interest I will
try to give it. From Twin Island, the eastern boundary of the
eastern mouth, which is shaped much like a carpenter's square, we
approach directly to Saddle Island, which stands in the very centre
of the mouth of the harbor, so that, in approaching, neither the
eastern or western entrance is perceived until one is directly upon
it. This island is about twice as long as it is broad, and lies about
southeast by northwest. There is a hill on either end one of
which only contains a beacon. The island is almost wholly rock.
The depression between these two crests reaches nearly to the level
of the water and yet it contains a pond of tolerably good water
where the people obtain their usual supply for daily use in the sum-
mer time. In what is known as the outer harbor, the water is deep
on both sides close to shore, while the eastern entrance is more
shallow than the western ; so that while men-of-war vessels often
pass in at the western, and anchor within the second or inner harbor,
only small boats can pass through the eastern entrance. The west-
ern entrance enlarges into what is called West Bay. The shores
of the outer harbor gradually approach each other to within almost
a stone's throw, and yet there is ample room for the largest man-of-
war vessel to pass safely and anchor, as the revenue and other ves-
sels that often enter here do, within the inner harbor.
Close to shore the inner harbor is shoal, yet in its centre, it is
very deep. In the farther end of this peculiar hour-glass are situ-
ated the winter houses of the inhabitants, at the foot of high, reced-
ing, unevenly sloped and gorged hillocks that look like a vast
amphitheatre. Near by, on the east side, is a little brook ; here
plenty of fresh water is always to be obtained, while the slopes of
the hills furnish abundance of firewood, if one will only cut it. Taken
all in all, this is a most beautiful place, and well calculated to ex-
244 CHARACTER OF SADDLE ISLAND.
cite the enthusiasm as, likewise, the envy of all lovers of beautiful
scenery. While in general outline the eastern side of the harbor is
low and marshy, the western is composed of granite hills from four
hundred to nearly five hundred feet in height, coming down to
within a few fathoms of the sea. Again on the east the little eleva-
tion, on which stands the church, is only seventy-eight feet above
the sea, the hill immediately behind it one hundred and seventy,
while the highest and next in order is only two hundred and ten
feet. From this elevation I could see beyond low earthy and gran-
ite hillocks. Immense ridges and bowlder-like rocks of granite were
lying about us in every direction ; beneath were bays, ponds, and low
marshy spots reaching in succession nearly to the sea level. The
formation is so much different on the opposite sides of this harbor
that it is quite remarkable. On the west red feldspar predomi-
nates, in large cliffs, whence the name Red Bay, while on the east
the rock is almost entirely granite or gneiss. Saddle Island, so
named from its resemblance to a saddle, contains a most peculiar
phenomenon. In the low marshy depression between the higher
extremities of the island is situated a small pond. Though this
pond is within a few feet of the level of the salt water, it is so sweet
and fresh that the people use it for drinking water. The pond is
very deep, yet with no apparent inlet anywhere. The outlet runs
continually, yet the supply does not appear to diminish.
I shall never forget the clear, beautiful, varying shades of green on
the slopes, and the dark outlines of the houses, as the sun sank behind
the western hills, overshadowing them for an instant, the first night
of our entrance into this charming little harbor. We could see the
people all along the shore, wending their way to church ; while in
place of the well-known music of the church bells, the robins, here
equally abundant as at home, and the "russingels," or fox sparrows,
sent forth a perfect medley of harmony that accorded well with this
scene.
Give me the rustic harmony of a woodland scene like this, and
I will defy the best laid argument of philosophy that would attempt
to prove that such people, if sincere in their worship, have not
A RUSTIC SCENE— RETURN. 245
reached the outermost circle of heaven's horizon. I care not for
pompous argument, and flowery speech, that would attempt to con-
vince one by its mighty utterances, when the glimpse of such a
scene as the one I represent is before one's very eyes. Surely
such a scene as this produces a quietness, peace, and serenity of
mind that no argument can prove false, and no philosophy can
shake. It is in itself at once the reality of both argument and
philosophy, and presents to us an end, which, having reached, calms
our fears and bids us drink and live. : drink in the beauties already
fading with a falling sun, and live in newness of revived hope to
return home with a satisfaction such as no mere sermon could give.
From Red Bay we retraced our steps along the coast, calling at
various places on the shore. I will try to give you an idea of the
coast about here. From Saddle Island (Red Bay) to Carrol's Cove
is five miles. Carrol's Cove is a sort of carpenter's square attach-
ment of the main coast, which here consists of high cliffs and
hilltops. It is low and scarcely above the sea level at high tide.
The extremity points in an easterly direction ; the shores everywhere
are narrow strips of pebbly beach ; while the point- itself consists
almost entirely of rocks. The bend in the land forms a sort of
harbor that, in mild weather, is not an altogether bad one. Here
some eight families live in about as many houses. Many of them
are quite intelligent, and some of them have sons or daughters that
are now residing in different portions of the states, and I was
often accosted with the question of, " Do you know my son living
in such and such a place? "
We soon passed from Carrol's Cove to Eastern Modest a
distance of four miles where eight families reside; thence to
Pirouette River, three miles and a half, where there are five fam-
ilies (this place is also called Black Bay and the river at the head
of the bay Black River) ; thence to Western Modest, nearly three
miles farther, where seventeen families live ; still farther up the
coast to Cape Diable, about opposite which is Capsan Island, one
and one-half miles, where there are five families ; into Diable bay,
or L'Anse Diable which is, perhaps, some two and a third miles
246 CENSUS — FOWLS.
farther, where there reside seven families. We continued our
journey three and one-half miles to L'Anse Loup where we found
eight families residing ; from the bottom of L'Anse Loup Bay to
Schooner Cove, the property of a merchant from Newfoundland a
Mr. Watson by name, the distance is a mile and three quarters ;
and from here to the lighthouse, at Point Amour, two and one-
half miles farther. We did not anchor at either Capsan Island or
L'Anse Diable, since there is no good ground to anchor there, and
vessels generally remain either farther up or down the coast, while
the travel is in small boats between these two places. Thus from
Red Bay to Point Amour, a distance of about twenty-six miles,
following a straight line from settlement to settlement, there live
about eight families and four hundred people.
The census from Pt. Amour to Blanc Sablon could be estimated
in about the same proportion, while the latter place is perhaps the
largest, with its surroundings of Wood and Greenley Island, east
of Esquimaux Point and Natashquan. Strange as it may appear,
nearly every family of this little colony keeps fowls and domestic ani-
mals, and it is no unusual sight to see thirty or forty of the former
running about the settlements, the hens picking for food here and
there, and the cocks crowing continually. We were able to pur-
chase about eight or ten dozen fresh eggs for the nominal price of
a shilling (twenty cents) a dozen. We would willingly have paid
twice that amount.
I will not stop to describe all the scenes along the coast here,
but will simply say that some of the places were gems of loveliness.
Some were backed by tablelands of sandstone, others were pecu-
liar formations of granite. Most of these places we had only time
to see from our vessel as we passed by them, yet they presented a
panorama of loveliness. When opposite Pirouette I could plainly
hear the pipings of the marsh frogs in the swamps of the river
beyond, and have no doubt but that, as one of the inhabitants
told me, they are very common there. Several of these places ap-
pear to have a formation much different from that of the country
around them, and I have no doubt but that most interesting results
THE BATTERY AND RED CLIFFS: THEIR DANGERS. 247
would be obtained by careful study both of the fauna and flora,
as well as of the geology of the region.
Thursday night we reached L'Anse Loup, passing the Battery as
it is called and Red Cliffs. The Battery consists of a plateau with
perpendicular, stratified cliffs in front, about three hundred feet high,
though I did not go ashore to measure it exactly. It forms a most
striking, and grandly beautiful feature of the surrounding scenery.
I am informed that in winter it hangs with masses of icicles, that,
from the strata of colored rock and soil back of it, forms most beau-
tiful and almost dazzling reflections of colors of all sorts and plays.
It must truly be a grand sight to see this huge mass of rock show-
ing forth crystals of water in such mingled brilliancy.
A path runs below the overhanging cliffs, narrow, but distinct
even at high tide. In winter, when blocked with snow, the people
are forced to scale the height and travel with great difficulty over
instead of beneath this platform of rock. Though travelling below
is much more dangerous, the danger is generally laughed at, and
the space crossed as quickly as possible. Several very narrow es-
capes from serious accident have been recorded here. At one
time a huge rock, of several tons weight, fell directly between the
dogs and the komatik, as the sledge was hurrying along at its ut-
most speed ; no one was injured, though all were very badly fright-
ened. At another time a sledful of several young ladies had just
passed one of the most dangerous parts of the road when a shower
of rocks fell behind and between them and the next komatik which
was but a short distance behind, yet nobody was injured. Soon
we had passed this place and were snugly anchored in L'Anse Loup
Bay for the night. The morning gave us a good view of the bay,
which is a simple indenture of the coast, about as deep as it is
wide, and nearly a mile and a half in either direction. The eastern
and western sides are ridges of hills, while their slopes are rather
pretty and picturesque. A small stream enters the foot of the bay,
wide but shallow ; while west of this is a huge, low ridge of rocks,
and farther west still a beach of pure, clear sand. The extension
of country beyond appeared as if it might once have been a part of
this same extension of bay, as it no doubt was.
248 FORTEAU BAY.
Forteau Bay is very similar to Loup bay. It is about twice as
deep, and more triangular in shape, while the eastern extremity
bends inward much like an inverted comma, giving the appearance
almost of a second bay infringing upon the first. The eastern side
seems to have been formed by the washing away of the limestone
ridges which are here several hundred feet high, and extending far
back into the country. The western side is principally of limestone
which recedes to the top of the cliffs beyond, at a height of about
four hundred feet. The bottom of the bay is mostly a sandy beach,
except where occasional outcrops of rock appear. There is a
small stream here also, as in nearly every bay along the coast, that
seems to drain the remains of some former extension of this same
bay, from the low and extended valley beyond. I noticed particu-
larly the cliffs on the eastern side, which reached almost to the sea,
and were nearly perpendicular ; whose stratifications were apparent
even from our vessel, and whose uneven fractures presented the
appearance of ruined towers or castles and temples. I plucked
several sweet-scented spring flowers ; and saw with pleasure signs
of the springing into new life of evergreen as well as alders, shrubs
and closely clustered vegetation everywhere abundant.
Our stay here was short, however, and a fair breeze soon brought
us again to Greenley Island. I will describe it.
Greenley Island is a low island, scarcely seventy feet, at most,
above the sea level. The northern part is short and wide, the
southern point long and blunt. Several rising hillocks mark the
centre of the island ; from these the land slopes on one side close
to the sea, on the other to the western portions of the island which
are covered with rocks and bowlders as if once the terminal mo-
raines of a glacier, yet much waterworn ; while the water beyond is
clear and sandy. On the east, and I think also the north side of the
island is sand ; on the southwest the rocks extend but a little distance
into the water, while on the east point is an immense flat table of
rock, seamed, scarred, and rounded by the water, which covers it
at low tide. This is a curiously formed ledge of granite, and does
not appear to have been broken excepting by the scars of time and
water, yet it appears to form the underwork of this part of the island.
GREENLEY ISLAND. 249
Upon the island is an occasional outcropping, apparently of this
same rock, though for the most part the ground is soft grassy and
mossy muck, with occasional fresh water ponds. Here and there
are strewn angular blocks of coarse, poor, grayish-yellow granite,
quite different from the predominant rocks on the island. These
are more or less square in outline and varying in size from two to
five feet. The tops are flat, and the edges all clean cut, and hardly
if at all water-worn, being distinct from the worn edges of the bowl-
ders, which were common near to the water's edge. These blocks I
have mentioned are scattered at irregular distances all over the
southwest portion of the island, being more abundant near the table
rock before mentioned, and west of the lighthouse. All the beach
on that side of the island which faces Wood Island is sand, while
the high point here seaward is mostly of the same origin so far as I
could ascertain.
The lighthouse is situated on the southern extremity of the island.
It is an octagonal wooden structure, marked like stone or brick, and
painted white upon the outside. The apparatus for illumination
consists of an iron framework fastened to an upright revolving rod,
that moves by a simple arrangement of wheels ; one of these is
heavily weighted while a handle is furnished for winding the weight
and keeping the apparatus in motion. Another small upright rod
with an upright screw attached keeps in motion a patent governor,
for regulating the time of each revolution. This governor is a
crossbar, on each end of which is a sort of fan, of brass, which
turns in a perpendicular or horizontal direction to indicate slow or
fast. Ordinarily the governor turns one hundred and twenty times
in a minute, and the lamps are four minutes in making a complete
revolution. The speed is regulated by government authority. The
top of the tower has twelve large, double plate glass windows, each
a quarter of an inch thick. The lights are twelve, arranged to shine
as four, three being white and one red, which flash as they revolve
at given intervals far out to sea, warning the sailors that the coast
is nigh.
We were very cordially received and shown around by the light-
250 OFF ST. MARY ISLAND — CORMORANTS.
keeper, who, being a French gentleman, however, understood very
little English. There is here also a fog gun, fired every half hour
in foggy weather. That, with the five minute steam whistle at
Point Amour, near by, renders it quite lively here at times, and
furnishes much amusement to the natives, especially those, who,
coming from a distance, hear these things for the first time.
Monday the 23rd. At last we have a breeze, and hoisting full sail
we are soon sliding through the water at the rate of about six miles
an hour. By night we are far on our way to the westward.
Tuesday the 24th. Though the wind has slackened a little it still
holds good. The air about us is perfection itself, so clear and
bracing is it. At eight o'clock we were just off the St. Mary Islands,
having gone about eighty miles in twelve hours, and, counting the
curvature of the coast, a full hundred and sixty in the last twenty-
four; and yet on we go, — dashing through the water. We pass
Shag rocks, a long row of bare rocks, without vegetation of any
kind, where the cormorants, or shags as they are here called, breed
in large numbers upon the ledges of bare rock ; they use their
own guano deposits for a nest. There are two species of cormo-
rants here, the common cormorant (Graculus carbo), and the
double crested cormorant ( G. dilophus) ; both are called shags,
but the latter are generally designated by the Indian name which
is, if I am informed correctly, Wapitougan. Both species breed
equally abundant apparently. I have seen thousands at a time
lining the rocks. They sit upright, in rows, upon the edges of the
rocks, and seldom one sits behind another, so that, to accommodate
them, every edge of each crag presents a trimming of cormorants ;
a lively looking trimming just as some shot is fired that sends all
into the air. The eggs are two to three, and, though really bluish
white in color, are invariably covered with a calcareous deposit
that renders them exceedingly chalk-like in appearance.
At a distance these rocks present the appearance of being cov-
ered with snow, but a nearer approach shows that this is a covering
of guano from the continual droppings of the birds ; while the tops
of the rocks are thickly embedded with an accumulation of guano
NATASHQUAN — SPRING BIRDS. 251
from the same cause, firmly stamped down with the continual pat-
tering of numberless feet.
Tuesday the 25th. We anchored off Natashquan. Here we ob-
tained a bundle of newspapers, mostly Harpers' Weekly, the first
we had seen for nearly seven months. Natashquan point is a little
better than a sand bank, with an overgrowth of low spruce and fir
trees, and but a poor attempt at vegetation. At its extremity are
placed the houses of one of the Hudson's Bay Company's posts,
and one or two native huts, while on a small island opposite is a
very neat house belonging to a trader, who passes the greater part
of his time between this place and the neighboring shores and
Quebec trading along shore. The water all about the point is very
shoal with dangerous sandbanks in every direction. I saw the hulk
of a vessel of about eighty tons, that several days before had run
aground here ; it had become stuck fast in the sand and was now
a total wreck. A few miles almost direct east takes us to the mouth
of the river where the settlement is. The harbor, even here, is full
of sunken ledges, most of which appear only at low tide. Vessels
cannot approach near the shore even here, since the sandbanks
again interfere, and the water is quite shallow even at high tide. A
little distance above this is another river, and the intervening space
is a picturesque little peninsula, of coarse and fine granite of feld-
spar, over which a scanty vegetation forms a groundwork with
dwarf spruce and fir trees extending far back into the country.
In the bushes, just back of the few houses that line the stream, I
saw large numbers of birds. The white throated sparrows sang
their well known pea-body, pea-body, pea-body, prefaced by their
usual whistle, from nearly every prominent tree-top, while I amused
myself for nearly an hour watching the robins as they flew or
hopped about on the lawn, or in and out the wood-pile and other
debris in front of the houses, enjoying the bright sun which
shone down, warm and gladdening, upon the ground just springing
into greenness again, wet with the moisture of melting snow. I saw
quite a number of other birds, and recognized the white crowned
sparrow, and also a shy Maryland yellow-throat ( Geothlypis tri-
252 GLACIAL MARKS — THE "RUSSINGEL."
chas) , who appeared several times, for my express benefit, I sup-
pose, in plain sight, before finally disappearing into the underbrush
at the right. The remainder of the forenoon was spent in examining
the glacial rounded rocks, on which I found several well defined
scratches, and in following the stream for a short distance to the
meadows, or low marshy districts just beyond the houses ; walking
all the way on shelving rocks that, nearly level with both meadow
and stream, sloped off in large platforms into the water. This river,
I am told, is navigable only for small boats, and for only two miles
from its mouth, though I believe that the Indians travel somewhat
farther in their canoes. As the people living here were mostly
French I could glean but little from them. The harbor, however,
is a mass of shoals even to the mouth of the river, whose eastern
bank is sand, while the bed of the stream partakes somewhat of
the character of the harbor, as far as I saw it, at least. I here heard
the Canadian "russingel, " full of most tuneful melody for which it
is so noted throughout Canada. On the right bank of the river,
and bordering the beach, are quite a number of houses, while a
small island near by contains a cluster of as many more ; altogether
quite a settlement for this region. One large fishing establishment
has about forty boats and two hundred hands engaged in the fish-
eries, during their season ; while there is a postoffice which receives
mails to and from Quebec, Bonne Esperance, and the South Shore
by packet, via Gaspe, touching at Anticosti, between which latter
places a submarine cable has been recently laid, to give warning
of the shipwrecks which are so constantly occurring on this island.
Saturday the 28th. It was to-day, if I remember right, that we
experienced the first of the two noted dark days of 1881. We were
about half-way between Natashquan, the point we had just left, and
Mingan, a post of the Hudson's Bay Company, to which we were
bound. Early in the morning the wind left us, and soon the atmos-
phere was clouded over with a dull murky and yellowish smoke-
colored light, that almost hid the sun. We could only see a faint
light spot where that luminary was protesting unsuccessfully against
such an infringement of its illuminating powers. By eleven o'clock
DARK DAY — WHALES. 253
the sky was like the lurid smoke of a furnace, and about as yellow,
the air was so heavy as scarcely to be breathed, while the sailors all
turned at once to Mother Shipton's prophecy, and believed, for sure,
that the end of the world was about to approach. I afterwards
learned that as far down the Gulf as Bonne Esperance, and even
at L'Anse Loup, the lamps were lighted at various times from eleven
in the morning until four in the afternoon, while nearly all along
the coast, some part of the day presented for a short time, an ap-
pearance nearly as black as night. I will mention another circum-
stance and its interpretation by the captain and crew that appeared
most striking. As we drifted along we passed successively, long
waves of a fine, yellowish dust powder that lay upon the surface of
the water often so thickly as to cover acres of water at a time. It
looked precisely like a deposit of sulphur. Part of those spoken to
on the subject declared that it was a deposit from the smoke of
several forest fires, which we afterwards know to have raged on
Anticosti, as well as several places on the mainland. I believe they
said that they had seen something like it before — at least it did not
particularly surprise them ; while another class declared that it was
the dust or rather pollen from the innumerable alders that line the
banks of the rivers all about the coast. The extent of these patches
was remarkable, whichever explanation was true. The patches
were often over a mile in length, while we passed over many acres
of it before leaving it.
Several whales had played near us during the night, and when
first seen, the ridges were declared oil from the whale blowings, —
which, often indeed, cover the water for miles; but during the
night all passed off, and in the morning we had passed Esquimaux
point, a Roman Catholic sealing settlement of about one hundred
and sixty houses, and soon reached Mingan, a most beautiful little
harbor of clustered islands, where the varied figures of the tide
ripple in the shallow water are one of the most remarkable displays
of the kind along the coast.
254 . IN SIGHT OF MINGAN.
CHAPTER XVI.
Mingan and surroundings — Hudson's Bay Companies' buildings — Mingan
River — Indians of this region; their habits, religion, etc. — "Montag-
nais" and "Nascopies" — The Indian trade at the various places along
the north shore — Romaine or Olomanosheebo — Natashquan again —
French steamer and salmon freezing — Jewelry peddler — Agwanus, Na-
bisippi — Terns and gulls — Codfish " schooling " — Esquimaux Point —
Indian names, etc. : St. Genevieve Island, Watcheeshoo, Manicouagan,
Saddle Hill, Mt. St. John, Washatnagunashka Bay, Mushkoniatawee,
Pashasheeboo, Peashtebai — Shooting at the Fox Islands — Mutton Bay,
Great Mecattina Islands — Old Fort Island again at last.
I can well remember the morning when our little schooner headed
for the well sheltered harbor of Mingan. We had started from Es-
quimaux Point, off which place the vessel had been anchored during
the night, about nine o'clock, and, passing the point with its low
extension of sand beach and its one hundred and sixty houses, —
some of which were of quite unique pattern and pleasing outward
appearance, — had fallen in with a light breeze which took us along
right merrily through the tide ripples and shallow waters between
the long chain of islands seaward, and the mainland on our right.
Early in the afternoon we sighted a long, low point of land in the
distant horizon, where a small white dot was plainly visible, repre-
senting the buildings of the establishment toward which we were
fast approaching, and which was our destination. There are times
when the motion of a contrary tide against the sides of a vessel ap-
pears to show that one is fast gaining, when in reality losing ground ;
there are also times when such a tide is in the vessel's favor, and a
swift, yet almost imperceptible motion, carries her on at a rate of
five, six, or even more miles an hour. At times our vessel had each
of these motions, now going swiftly, now slowly, as the case might
" TIDE RIP »- M1NGAN HARBOR. 255
be, while the low and sandy, or the high and cliff-like sides of the
neighboring islands grew nearer and nearer, to fall slowly behind us
and grow dim in the distance, as the point toward which we were
aiming grew each moment plainer and plainer.
We were between the mainland and a few low islands on our left,
when suddenly we struck a most remarkable " tide rip," as it is
called. The rippling of the water, with low, even lappings, sending
forth music like the laugh of "Laughing Water," extended all around
and about us, a mile at least in each direction. Cross currents
made long furrows here, while there, broad sheets presented the
same even ripple as far as the eye could reach. On through this
charming and fascinating little place we slowly glided, as we listened
to the merry waters and feasted our eyes on the playful ripples,
watching our sure approach to the harbor now so near us. Flocks
of ducks, hurrying to and fro, passed us on our right and left, while
gulls and other birds sported around and above us, or floated on
the surface of the water, often a few rods only from the bow of our
vessel as we glided along. At last we reached harbor, and were
soon safely anchored.
Mingan harbor is a narrow but deep stretch of water open to the
sea on the east and west, with the mainland on the north, and Min-
gan Island on the south. Of Mingan Island I can say little ; it is a
low piece of land, long and narrow with a foundation of sand which
is visible here and there along its surface. The main body of the
island seems to be composed of a series of rocks deposited in layers
one above the other, and forming low, irregularly faced cliffs, with
slate-like cleavage and fracture, which are nearly or quite perpen-
dicular in outline. The upper surface of this mass bends in various
directions, while its height is twenty to forty feet above the sea.
Low, stunted firs abound everywhere, so that the island forms a not
unattractive sight in this really romantic little spot.
On the mainland, or Mingan proper, contrary to what might be
expected from the appearance of the island opposite, an entirely
different formation exists. Nowhere along the coast, for a consid-
erable distance at least, does a rock of any size appear, either in
256 THE NEIGHBORING COAST LINE.
place or loose as bowlder, stone, or pebble. Strange to say, as will
be shown further on, the rocky precipices, or rather steps of the
rapids in Mingan river, some three miles from its mouth, seem to
be the first indications of rock formation in this locality, while these
are simply the eastern and southeastern boundary of a tremendous
mass of high rocky ground that extends inland for miles, perhaps
thousands of miles.
The coast and its beach, as the whole country to the rocks inland,
is everywhere low and sandy. On the beach itself the sand is dense
and very fine. Farther in shore there is a very scant, occasional
streak of low vegetation where are pastured a few heads of cattle
and goats that graze on the lawns, here and there, where they can
find food. A few acres of good grass are fenced in, and this sup-
plies an excellent feed for the animals during the winter, which
here is neither so long nor so severe as is usually the case farther
north, at Bonne Esperance even. From Mingan west to Long
Point, a distance of about six miles, this low sand beach extends
almost without a single rock, I believe, while the east beach is en-
tirely of sand. The river itself passes through a ridge of this same
material which forms a high bank on the left and a low one on the
right, as one passes inland, while the whole land rises directly from
the sea then falls in a northeasterly direction, and the trend of
greatest height, here, as nearly everywhere along this part of the
coast, is in a northwesterly direction. In the background, the dis-
tant hills rise to a height of at least a thousand feet, while dim out-
lines of others, of perhaps greater height, appear in the horizon.
This is the picture whose charming outline at once attracts and
captivates one upon entering the harbor of this sequestered little
spot. Exhilarated by the sharp, fresh air we land, and soon count
our trout from the waters where few but the Indians have preceded
us.
Mingan has been for many years a post of the Hudson's Bay
Company. Thither the Indians from the interior resort to sell their
furs, for which they receive in exchange provision, clothing, ammu-
nition, and those useful articles of which they may be in need.
MINGAN: ITS ATTRACTIONS. 257
Mingan is situated about three hundred and sixty miles from Que-
bec, in a straight line, while it is only twenty-five miles from the
opposite shore of Anticosti and is a little east of a point opposite
the extreme southwestern portion of that island. The attractions
of the place are only its fishing and the houses of the company's
post with that of the Guard depkche. From your position on board
your little vessel in the harbor, you can see .them all ; the long
plank walk with the net shop at its eastern extremity has near it
the officers' house with a cosy little office close by ; farther down
are the storehouses, wherein are the provisions, clothing and such
like stores with which the general trading of the establishment is
done, while bundles of fine fur hang suspended from cross bars and
nails in the lofts above. Just around the bend, the walk continues
to an old unused wharf where it terminates ; being a distance of
one-tenth of a mile. I say one-tenth of a mile, — many is the time
that this plank walk has been paced, while sauntering for pleasure
or to pass the time away, undoubtedly by each individual dweller
of this establishment. A few barns or outbuildings, of one sort or
another, placed here or there as the case may be, complete that
portion of the post which has been built up to the present time.
Most of these buildings have been tastily painted, thus presenting
a neat and attractive picture to one viewing it from the vessel in
the harbor, or the deck of the little steamer, that, plying between
here and Quebec, touches all the important points along the coast
for a distance of some few hundred miles. If you visit this charm-
ing little spot, you are sure of a cordial reception from the gentle-
manly officers of the post, who are only too pleased to welcome
strangers amongst them.
If there is plenty of time at your disposal, hire, for a small amount,
a guide and canoe and make a day's trip up the river* The Min-
gan river flows in a west varying to southeasterly direction, and
enters the Gulf not far from the Romaine river which flows from
nearly a contrary direction. At the mouth of both rivers are shal-
lows and accumulations filling the water with ridges that control
strongly the current at this point. These sand bars are constantly
17
258 TRIP UP MINGAN RIVER.
shifting, while in places they have overrun each other and piled up
small islands of sand which becoming overgrown with grass or scant
vegetation have become the nesting places of gulls and ducks, thus
supplying the people with birds and eggs in large numbers when-
ever they are desired. Following up the river you will find sand
and sand banks on either hand, and extending, with scant vegeta-
tion, far inland. Soon we approach the rapids, where the river
widens into a baylike expansion of water bounded everywhere by
granite cliffs, which, rising to a height of three hundred feet extend
in undulating billows of uneven height, far towards the dim out-
lines of the hills beyond, while tangled vegetation, and bowlders
and loose rock lie mingled in confusion on all sides.
In front of the rapids, and just before reaching them, we came
to a partial clearing, on our right, in the dense mass of fir and
spruce trees here grown so closely together, where a party of pleas-
ure seekers from "the States" had built a "cabin" which they
used as a rendezvous during the summer sporting season. The
rapids, directly opposite this charming spot, consist of a body of
water pouring over a series of rocky ridges running from shore to
shore, and which form a regular pair of steps of fifteen to twenty
feet in height. The opening of the river is between perpendicular
walls of granite which have apparently been worn down and crum-
bled away by time and the water so constantly dashing and splash-
ing over it in its path to the ocean. Above the rapids the stream
is narrow but deep.
To the left of these rapids formerly existed a narrow pathway
which, ascending to the height above, led to a position whence the
descent to the river again was comparatively easy. This path was
once much used by the Indians who sought the interior of the
country by this route, but it has long since been discontinued. I
ascended this path with the guide for nearly two miles, but the
walking was so difficult, the pathway often so obscure, and the whole
surface of the plateau exhibiting such a sameness of general
feature that we soon gave it up as a bad job and returned with
difficulty the way we had come. I found in the rocks several small
INDIANS OF THIS REGION. 259
veins of magnetic iron, and also of lead, while a few sheets of
mica several inches in either direction were also picked up, but the
nature of the formation precludes the probability of finding much
of value in the mineral line either here or anywhere else upon the
coast.
The Mingan river, like many if not most of the other rivers along
the coast, extends inland about twenty miles when it reaches a
pond; it is then connected by a series of ponds to some lake
whose altitude usually exceeds that of the surrounding country, and
whose waters, descending in a contrary direction, form gradually a
second river which flows to the sea by a similarly circuitous route to
that of its congener.
We descended the river much more rapidly than we had ascended
it, the current being very swift in places, and the wind also being in
our favor. From the shore we could see the summit of Mt. St.
John's, lying some fifteen miles inland in a northwesterly direction,
which mountain is said to be a little over fourteen hundred feet in
height. Directly inland the country is said to rise in successsive
steppes — if one might use the word in this connection, — to what
is termed the " height of land, " some five hundred miles inland,
where a chain of mountains, peculiar to the whole lower St. Law-
rence region, and- northern Quebec, with peaks varying from one
to three thousand feet in height, continues in an eastern trend to-
wards the sea, which it reaches at the extremity of the Labrador
peninsula, near Ivucktoke, or Hamilton Inlet.
I had intended saying something further here upon the subject
of the Indians themselves, of this locality, but they do not differ
greatly from those of the whole coast, and all agree in the same
general characteristics. Mingan is the camping ground, so to speak,
for all of this class of people for several hundred miles of coast and
as many inland. Their chapel or church is also situated here, and
weekly worship is conducted by their chief, except at such times
as their priest makes them a special visit.
The religion of the Indians seems to be of a sort of Roman
Catholic order. I am told that it is quite similar to that of the
260 RELIGION OF THE INDIANS.
French Canadian Roman Catholics, though having a distinct In-
dian characteristic which marks it at once as peculiar to that class
of people. Their church, at Mingan, is a low, wooden affair, very
plain, and with only the necessary paraphernalia connected with
their worship within it. Outside and near to is the burying ground,
and above each tomb, — at least the majority of them — a simple
cross of stained wood marked the head, the size of the cross being
the sign of the importance of the individual in his tribe and village.
Back from the burying ground, and some distance in the neighbor-
ing woods, was a large cross, and a bower of fir boughs a little dis-
tance from it, representing some further ceremonies in their mystic
religion. Here, I am informed, the people go to bow and rever-
ence the cross, and to dance or weep within the bower, as the
occasion may require. With regard to the Indian religion, Mr.
Butler says : —
" The worship of the Indians at Mingan is in accordance with
the teachings of the Romish church, I imagine. I have never heard
of any separate form of their own. The cross and bower you speak
of are, I believe, a sort of memorial or votive shrine. There is a story
connected with it but I have forgotten what it is. " Mr. Butler
has thus touched upon a genuine relic which, could it be recalled,
would probably interest every intelligent reader in the United States
and abroad. He further says : " I suppose their religious ideas,
apart from the Roman Catholic Church, are very vague. " Much
to my annoyance, the attendance of strangers was forbidden rather
than bidden to these their mystic rites, and I was unable to observe
them at their worship, although their priest visited them and per-
formed services while I was there.
The respect shown by the Indians to their dead results in a
species of religious superstition, peculiar, perhaps, to all communi-
ties of their race and color, that the bodies of their dead friends
must, at all hazards, be protected from anything that would defile,
or in any way injure them, while any relative of the deceased re-
mains alive. They regard their burying ground their final home,
and even from far distant camping grounds they are said to send
HABITS OF LABRADOR INDIANS.
delegations on long trips, both in summer and winter, for the
purpose of making sure that intruders have not disturbed the re-
mains of their friends.
Although for the most part, these Indians, both as a tribe and as
individuals composing it, are quiet and peaceably disposed
creatures, on no occasion, probably, would one of them kill a
white man, or one of another tribe, more quickly than if in any
way interfering with the bodies or burial places of any of their
tribe. Socially, the Indians are quiet and peaceable, if treated
with respect and kindness, though they are quick to take offence
at one who attempts to " bully " them or infringe upon their rights.
Of the Indians of Labrador I will now say a few words. There
are two principal tribes of Indians, not counting the Esquimaux
of the extreme northern portion of the plateau, who inhabit this
region : the Montagnais who inhabit the coast, especially of the
river and Gulf of St. Lawrence, and the Nascopies who dwell
principally inland and whose visits to the seashore are periodical
and chiefly to secure supplies by selling their furs and obtaining
credit on their probable winter's catch. Of the origin of these
tribes it is not necessary to enter here into any discussion. The
Montagnais are probably a part of the Algonquin, and the Nasco-
pies are undoubtedly a sub-branch of the same stock.
The " Montagnards," or " Montagnets," or " Montagnais " are
found in abundance chiefly along the shores of the lower St. Law-
rence, and they extend more or less abundantly from Quebec,
even, as far as Mingan, while stragglers occur even farther down
the coast. Tadousac was formerly a great trading post of theirs
in the St. Lawrence, and even as early as the middle of the six-
teenth century when Jacques Cartier visited this region these Indi-
ans flourished and were friendly, as they always have been, to the
French colonists. The Montagnais were always active in war, and
not so retired as their neighbors of the interior. From their resi-
dence on the coast we hear more of them and their exploits as we
also know them better. The Montagnais were one of the first
Indian tribes to subscribe to Christianity, though nothing has
262 NASCOPIES AND OTHER 'TRIBES.
induced them to give up their nomadic existence and settle perma-
nently on reservations which have been offered by government.
They showed aversion to agriculture, and preferred to live in idleness
rather than to cultivate the soil, though many of their neighbors
of other tribes reared five plantations of maize. They were early
beset with Jesuit missionaries who labored in vain to civilize them.
Perhaps no one thing tended to demoralize the Indians then, as
now, more than the traffic in spirituous liquors, which was every-
where encouraged rather than discouraged.
The " Ounadcapis," " Ounascapis," " Naskapis," " Naspapees,"
"Nascopi," " Naskupi," or " Nasquapee," as they have been
variously called, formed at that period a distinct people inhabiting
the territory lying north of Lake St. Johns and extending towards
Hudson's Bay. In a communication from Mr. J. H. Trumbull, of
Hartford, Ct., regarding this tribe he says : " They speak a dialect
of the Cree language, nearly like, but not identical with, that of
the Montagnais Indians, of the same stock. The word " Nascopi "
is properly the name for an " Indian man" (Y. <?., vir) in their
dialect, and that, in all Algonquin languages, the name for " man "
and the verb "to stand erect " are nearly related." In about the
year 1674 the Nascopies came in great numbers to Tadousac and
intermarried with the Montagnais, though since then the tribes in
general have been hardly distinct, yet a few of each race still
retain the peculiarities of their tribe, so that there are still direct
descendants from the pure stock. In relation to the name Nascopi,
I found it in common use all along the coast for a pile or heap
of stones thrown up into some form several feet in height and
usually placed on top of an island or neighboring height to mark
some position, or important spot or event. These heaps occur
everywhere, and are known, as I have said, by the name " Nascopi,"
by the natives, also " American Man " by the sailors. They are
common everywhere. The name does not occur in any of our local
dictionaries or encyclopedias that I can ascertain.
The Indians traded with the French as early as 1504, both
Basques and Normans frequenting their chief post at Tadousac for
MONT AGNAIS — INDIAN STATIONS. 263
this purpose. In 1871 a census of the Montagnais Indians along
the north shore of the St. Lawrence resulted in 1,685 > tnere being
190 at Seven Islands, 552 at Bersamis, and 560 at Mingan alone.
For the Labrador division exclusively there were 1,309. In 1877
the Nascopies of the lower St. Lawrence numbered 2,860, though
doubtless through error, 1,860 would have probably reached nearer
the truth if indeed there were so many as that. In that same year
(1871) there were estimated in Labrador and Quebec to be 2,500
Nascopies, and 1,745 Montagnais. Since that time the number of
families have constantly diminished. Some have renounced their
trading and trapping voyages and settled in comfortable cabins and
are turning their attention to farming and the raising of such crops
as potatoes, turnips, oats, etc., and secure about enough hay to
feed a few head of cattle during the winter, but the traders are
fast undoing what has been done, and sell them goods as well as
liquor largely on the credit principle so that, so to speak, they are
demoralized almost as fast as, if not faster than, they are moralized.
Godbout river was formerly a great Indian station and gathering
place ; not more than a dozen families now reside there, and they
only in the- summer time. Farther down the river, at Seven Islands,
about five times that number gather in the summer, descending by
the Moisie river, and strive to recuperate from the half famished
condition in which scarcity of provisions in the winter time has
left them. Moisie itself, at one time quite a rendezvous for these
families, is now almost deserted for this place (Seven Islands).
Mingan, now the favorite resort of this tribe, is a good location for
their wants. It has been previously described. The Indians meet
here in the summer, and have a general resting time. Many of
them, if the season's " catch " has been good, buy them boats and
barges for $80 to $150 and make hunting excursions both up and
down the coast, or to the island of Anticosti thirty miles distant
across the channel. In the year 1878 there were about 80 families
and 375 people, young and old, stationed here for the summer.
The year I was at Mingan there were about the same number.
Natashquan is another station of these Indians during the summer^
264 INDIAN SETTLEMENTS.
here being a post of the Hudson's bay company here also,
though at the extreme point of the mainland on the east side of the
channel. Their settlement here is entirely by mishwaps arranged
for temporary accommodations only during the summer months,
and rarely more than fifty families and two hundred people, old and
young, assemble here from their inland excursions to sell their furs
and to recuperate. Musquarro, though formerly a great Indian
rendezvous, has now become deserted for Romaine or Olomano-
sheebo, which is really a most delightful and picturesque place, —
at least so it seemed to me as we entered its snug and quiet harbor
one beautiful evening, and viewed it with the lights and shadows of
the sun's last rays upon it. Romaine river is now a great highway
for the Indians who visit the interior or those who descend to the
seacoast.
St. Augustine, about thirty miles to the westward of Bonne Esper-
ance, was formerly the great resort of the Nascopie Indians. Here
for a long time the Hudson's Bay Company kept a flourishing post,
which was afterwards deserted by them, and a generous, honest
dweller of that region was allowed to take possession of it,
who now supplies the Indians who come from the interior, to this,
the only post of the region, for a distance of many miles in either
direction. Many of the Indians wintering here came directly
across the country even from Ungava and the shores of Hudson's
Bay itself. About 1871 there were as many as one hundred and
twenty families of Nascopies at this place, with about a third as
many Montagnais ; the two elements are so intermingled now that
the numbers are pretty evenly divided between the two tribes. It
has been said of the Nascopies in general, that "although intelligent
they are yet very superstitious, believe in dreams, in their 'joug-
leurs,' or medicine-men," etc. Of late years the Indians have en-
camped largely in the islands and mainland near Bonne Esperance
where Mr. Whiteley and others furnish them with supplies to con-
tinue their hunting and trapping in the interior the following winter.
There are thus about three hundred and seventy-five families, and
1,700 people leading a nomadic existence, and dwelling about and
INDIAN TRADE. 265
around the various resorts and islands from Quebec to Belle Isle.
These Indians are seldom if ever worth over a few hundred dollars,
their furs are not abundant, they themselves being thus obliged to
eke out a miserable existence, starving to death in the winter to
procure food for their families, and secure enough furs to pay for
their summer's provisions, at which season they are usually obliged
to glut themselves to gain sufficient strength to pursue their hunt-
ing the next winter, else they would surely starve and die in the
midst of plenty, from their previous winter's want.
Another great source of misery to the Indians is credit. This
effectually bars them from enterprise, and prevents their advance-
ment in every possible respect. They cannot consider themselves
free when once they have become involved to any trader or dealer.
The uncertainty of their business makes it all the worse. If a year
comes when game is scarce, and little fur can be obtained, they
come from the interior disheartened, for who will give them pro-
visions if they have no furs ? At last some one furnishes them with
enough provisions, to keep them from starving, on credit of the next
winter's "catch." These are soon eaten up, and the same trader
finds himself obliged, to save himself, to fit them out for the coming
winter, with the proviso that he shall be paid from the results of
that catch. The Indians are obliged to promise or starve. The
next year is a poor year also. The Indians take little fur, and,
knowing that if they go to the trader who fitted them out they must
give him all they have with no prospect of any return, they come
to some other part of the coast, and try the same experiment with
another party; thus they go from place to place, leaving debts
wherever they go, with no prospect of ever paying them, and the
fear that soon every avenue will be blocked to their approach. The
traders, equally in despais, are but just opening their eyes to the
situation, and finding the only solution of the difficulty in a com-
promise in which each side shares.
When the ice breaks up in the spring, usually the last of May,
the Indians seek the coast with their furs to trade and to recuperate.
Many of the traders practise all sorts of arts whereby to deceive
266 "BARTER TRADE."
the Indians both as to the quality of their furs, and that of the ar-
ticles which they offer in exchange for them ; the majority, however,
ask only a fair price in exchange for cash, and the charges seem ex-
orbitant only as the proposed credit is large or doubtful. Flour
is generally $7.00 to $9.00 a barrel; lard, 20 cents, butter, 30 to 40
cents, and ship biscuits, 10 cents per pound ; pork a barrel, $25.00
to $28.00 ; cotton, 25 to 40 cents per yard ; molasses, 60 to 80
cents a gallon. In exchange, beaver skin is worth $1.50 to $2.50
a pound, martins $1.50 to $3.00 a piece, lynx, $1.50 to $2.00,
bear, $5.00 to $7.50, fox, $1.50, silver fox, $15.00 to 30.00, cross
fox, $7.00 to $9.00, and mink about $1.00. This will show the
general average of the trade, varying slightly according to the
season all along the St. Lawrence and Labrador peninsula.
The summer visits of these Indians are dreaded by all fishermen.
They roam at will, fishing or shooting, visiting salmon and seal nets
at night, and stealing the " catch " of their more fortunate white
neighbors, while they scare away all species of game and render
others as miserable as they themselves are, till fall again disperses
them towards their winter hunting grounds in the interior of this
wild, bleak, desolate country. In 1881 the value of their whole
hunt was only about $20,000. The same year their numbers all told,
from Quebec to Belle Isle, were about 11,000 young and old ; this
was probably too large an estimate by several thousands. One can
thus see that the Indian population of this region is anything but
an easy one to manage. They come down from the interior in
small bands to the various places named above, in a half starved
condition, and attempt to make up for their loss in hunting and
trapping, by begging from any and all that are more fortunate than
themselves, and by obtaining large credit from the traders. The
government can do little to help them. • If one year it sends sup-
plies, the following year the Indians come down en masse to their
rendezvous and loaf around doing nothing to earn their own living,
while waiting for a similar shipment from the government. If this
comes it demoralizes them more than ever, and if it does not come
they have then lost all the benefit of the fishery, where they might
MODE OF LIFE AND DRESS. 267
have reaped a good harvest. A few of them are furnished with
nets, hooks, and lines, and work industriously during the summer
months. The soil, at the places where they remain during that
season, is unfit for cultivation, and as none of the whites attempt
cultivation, the Indians would be hardly more fortunate. One
year the government sent them a number of bushels of potatoes to
plant, as an experiment. The Indians cut them up at once, and
thanked the agent for being so good as to send them supplies, hop-
ing that they would send more the next year. Hunger has re-
duced them as a tribe, though a few are haughty and troublesome
at times. It is impossible to civilize them to any great extent,
and there are but few schools, and these only in the lower prov-
inces where there are also a few reservations.
There has recently been appointed, by the government, an In-
dian agent who is now hard at work trying to better the condition
of these poor, unfortunate people, and make it possible for each
family to become sober and industrious and earn its own living in
a thrifty way; but their nature rebels against most all treatment,
and they prefer the nomadic existence of their fathers, or the uncer-
tainties of the chase, and are delighted to roam at will and fish the
stream, thus gaining an uncertain sort of existence from year to
year until at last they disappear and are heard from no more.
Disease very seldom attacks an Indian. Such diseases as small-
pox and measles are the most prevalent, — for the former they are
vaccinated freely by the government agent while he is on the coast.
The aged and infirm are disposed of as speedily as possible, being
left to starve and die or turned off upon anybody who will under-
take to care for them. Often in the summer time large forest fires
occur, but these are rarely caused by the Indians, as many seem
to think. An Indian is very careful on this point, since it would
be a great offence to be guilty of wilful destruction of the " hunt-
ing grounds."
I dare not say much concerning the dress of the Indians. They
wear anything and everything. Old garments and new garments,
thick and heavy, brown, white, or black ; leather or sealskin boots,
268 LEAVING MINGAN.
rubber boots or moccasins, according to the weather, state of their
purse or their credit. The squaws wear calico, or woollen dresses
of any shade, quality or pattern, and a peculiar, long, peaked cap
usually of red flannel cloth. Dressed deer-skin waistcoats are
common with the men and are very warm ; moccasins of all sorts
and shapes are made, and used or sold. But this extraordinary
race demands far greater attention than has been heretofore given
them, or that can possibly be contained in these fragments of their
history, and it is to be hoped that the government which has so
far acted judiciously in the matter will be able to do some perma-
nent good to this unfortunate and destitute people.
Wednesday, the 8th. We left Mingan, on our return trip, yes-
terday, with a good wind and fair sky, and to-day we made Romaine
river or Olomanosheebo as the Indians call it, another now de-
serted post of the Hudson's Bay Company. This location, Grand
Romaine, as it is called, has recently become a great rendezvous
of the Indians. The place was crowded. There must have been
thirty or forty families camping there, just on the eve of their de-
parture on a hunting excursion, so that we were too late to visit
them. They were in the midst of a celebration of some grand fete
day, and were saluting their priest, who had just arrived to conduct
the ceremonies of the occasion. They continued an almost unin-
terrupted firing of guns for about two hours. In the evening all
attended service ; ten minutes after every Indian had left the place,
and it was as still and deserted as if no one had ever existed there.
Romaine is as pretty a place as its name is musical. It has a se-
cluded yet snug appearance, while the hills form a sort of barrier
within which the natural beauties of the place unfold themselves.
The rocky islets on the outside enclose a safe harbor.
Tuesday, the i4th. We reached Natashquan to-day, and there
found letters from home awaiting us. Here we found, surrounded
by petty traders, a large French steamer that was coasting the
shore for fresh salmon, which, first undergoing a freezing process,
were packed, to be transported to the French coast where they
are retailed at a large profit. The captain had had no cause to
NATASHQUAN AGAIN. 2G9
complain of the " catch," and all the men were hard at work cu-
ring and packing a lot of splendid large fish recently brought in by
one of the fishermen from a short distance down the shore. The
captain was an intelligent and excellent appearing fellow, and
extended to us the usual courtesies, for which the French generally
are so well noted, when he found we were Americans and strangers ;
and I should do him injustice did I not make particular mention of
the excellence of his table, to which he cordially invited us, and
which invitation we as cordially accepted. After dinner we were
shown all over the steamer, and she was indeed a beauty. She
was almost new, and her engines in perfect trim, while all her ap-
purtenances showed the signs of newness and solidity. Her tonnage
was a little over one thousand. Though the captain showed us
everything freely, he would not describe to us the new freezing
process to which he subjected the fish he preserved, claiming it to
be a new invention and not that of vaporization of ether or any
kindred process in use at the present time. One of the steamer's
tug boats was put at our disposal for an excursion the next day,
but the rain deprived us of this very great anticipated pleasure.
Saturday the i8th. Quite an excitement was caused this even-
ing by the arrival of a jewelry peddler. He had sold a large quan-
tity of this artificial and counterfeit material, and now was eager to
get away from the village by the quickest possible conveyance, and
I cannot wonder if a sample of his goods that came under my eye
is a fair sample of all of which he disposed to this honest-hearted
community. It was that of a very poorly plated ring worth about
a shilling that was sold for ten shillings. The young fellow who
purchased it intended it for his young lady, but, finding that it
tarnished the first night his rage may be easily imagined.
At Natashquan we obtained a fresh supply of provisions, and a
few pounds of most excellent fresh maple sugar; it was put
up in square cakes of five pounds each and sold at the surprisingly
cheap price of ten cents a pound.
Our next stopping place was at Agwanus river, twelve miles
above Natashquan and but a few miles below Nabisippi, which
270 AGWANUS — NABISIPPL
latter place we could plainly see with the naked eye. Agwanus is
a very pretty place. A beach of quite pure sand is crowned by a
number of grass-plats upon which several houses have been built
while the whole is backed by the cliffs and crags of the neighboring
hills. We sailed by a number of small, low islands or rather rocks,
for there was scarcely any vegetation upon them, the breeding
place of innumerable terns (probably Sterna macroura), which
fairly swarmed everywhere we went. They took good pains, how-
ever, to keep just out of gun-shot, so that we did not procure any
of them.
It was dusk when we passed through this region, and as we
slowly glided along the channel among the rocks, we watched the
beauties of the scene. Low patches of green topped the brown
rocks, and were set off by the display of the darker green of the
spruces farther inland and the shadows on the still darker green of
the cloud-shadowed rocks still farther away. Soon we came upon
a small cabin, snugly tucked away in a sheltered place among the
rocks near the shore. Close by here we anchored, while at our
right another small island swarmed with gulls and terns at which
we practised shooting until dusk. This place we learned was
Washtawooka bay. The harbor protected us perfectly on all sides,
and here we anchored for the night.
Thursday, the 2ist. Although the longest day of the year, we
to-day made our shortest run, being but six miles, only to return
to Nabisippi, another now deserted post of the Hudson's Bay
Company, for the night. We spent part of the time lying to about
a mile off shore and shooting at the gulls, of which large numbers
surrounded us. It was the species known as Bonaparte's gull
( Chrczcocephalus Philadelphia) which abounds about the shoal
waters and fishing grounds everywhere along this part of the coast.
We saw here a most beautiful but rare sight, — it consisted of
large body of codfish "schooling, " as it is called, in reality playing,
upon the surface of the water. The water would be covered for
acres with the heads or bodies of these fish as they dashed madly
about or scooted forward on the surface of the sea, often in per-
RETURN T-RIP — INDIAN VILLAGES. 271
feet line and in perfect time. Again they would disappear as sud-
denly as they appeared. I have seen them at times leap several
inches clear of the water. Agairuthey would form in long ranks and
rush through the water with such velocity as to make it actually hiss
as it closed behind them. Sometimes they would suddenly dis-
appear and again as suddenly appear headed in some other direction
and proceed with their " playing " as before. They often sport in
this way for hours, appearing in thousands and tens of thousands,
and then disappear as suddenly as they came not to be seen again
during the season. At this, the " old salts " say " they have taken
to deep water again."
Wednesday, the 23d. We started off early this morning with a
fine breeze, on our return trip. (We had visited, but did not stay
long, at the Roman Catholic settlement of about one hundred and
sixty houses, at Esquimaux Point, about twenty miles east of Min-
gan. I simply mention the location as it is an important one in
sealing industries, though otherwise it does not, I believe, attract
particular attention.) Farther to the eastward the small island of
St. Genevieve (pronounced here genyurve) forms a prominent
landmark, as does also the locality of Watcheeshoo (pronounced
watch- a- shoe) which is near Manicouagan bay. Close by is Sad-
dle hill, the highest part of this neighboring coast, being about
three hundred and seventy-five feet above the sea, and about sixty-
five miles to the north and west of which lies Mt. St. John, the
highest peak on the North Shore at this point, being 1614 feet
high. A few other Indian villages were passed, such as Washatna-
gunashka bay, or Mushkoniatawee, Pashasheebo, as also Peash-
tebai, and Appeeletat, all of which names, strange to say, really
sound quite musical when pronounced properly by one acquainted
with their Indian sound.
Friday, the 24th. We lay to, awhile this morning, off the Fox
islands, and filled several pails and buckets with murres' eggs
(Lomvia troile), while with our guns we shot about a hundred of
these birds in less than an hour, and yet we left them flying as
thickly over and by the island as when we had first landed. • We
272 GUNNING — FORT ISLAND AGAIN.
boiled the eggs and found them excellent eating. They are not
quite as rich in flavor as hens' eggs, but certainly fully equal them
in quality. With this addition to* our stock of provisions we had
several new dishes, among them a most delicious rice pudding.
In the evening we passed the highlands of Meccatina, nearly six
hundred feet above the sea, and also those of Mutton bay, about
seven hundred feet high, a small settlement where dwells a mission-
ary who ministers to the people on this part of the coast; and
anchored in the snug harbor of Great Meccatina, where we lay all
night. Here we again saw the magnificent comet, we had occa-
sionally seen before, in a northeast by north direction, and appar-
ently about 30° above the horizon. It was about n o'clock p. m.
that I made this observation.
In the morning we proceeded eastward with a fine breeze. As
we passed, all the harbors were full of Newfoundland fishing vessels,
many of them from Harbor Grace. Baie des Roches was filled
so full that we could scarce obtain anchorage. I found on many
of the rocks distinct and well defined glacial scratches, and noted
other peculiarities of the location. We remained here all day on ac-
count of the intense fog everywhere. The next day we managed,
after beating about for some time, to reach Old Fort island again
whence we had started, after one of the most enjoyable trips I ever
experienced.
AT OLD FORT ONCE MORE. 273
CHAPTER XVII.
Affairs at Old Fort Island — The fishing season — Thunder storm — Arrival
of vessel which is to take us home — Our trip in her to L'Anse Loup and
scenes at intervening places — " Off for home " — Double reefed fore
and main sails — Island of Anticosti — A hurricane — Quebec and
home.
AFFAIRS at the Island had not changed much since I had left it,
and everything moved on in the same quiet, well ordered style.
There had been an arrival which pleased the children greatly, in the
shape of a young calf, in the barn, and most of the day was occu-
pied by them in watching its movements, which they did with the
greatest of interest, reporting hourly at the house. There were
three children in the family, but one would easily have imagined
that there were at least thirty, by the succession of continual ap-
pearances and as sudden disappearances at the door, as each came
to relate the dispatches from the barn. It, however, afforded them
occupation, which was the main point.
The animals about the place, not counting in the dogs, con-
sisted of a bull, a cow with its calf, and two goats — one of which
was a billy. The goat furnished milk as well as the cow. Many
people along the coast keep goats, and prefer the milk for the chil-
dren to that of the cow. Both the billy and the bull were turned
loose on the ground with simply a board before their eyes, and one
of their fore feet tied to a rope passing around the horns. In this
manner all roam together : dogs, children, animals and all.
It really seemed quite refreshing to be fed once more on good
home-made bread and butter, to drink fresh, rich, creamy milk, and
to have the luxury of real cream in one's tea and coffee. The gun
18
274 AFFAIRS AT THE ISLAND.
still afforded the roast duck of the noon or evening meal ; and
many a morning have I been out before breakfast and brought
home a bag literally full of plover and beach birds for the meal.
Good cheer, and plenty of it, was never wanting now. Soon the
men began to trim their boats for the fishing season, now nearly
upon them, and all around us was activity and life. A curious ex-
ample of how everything is turned to use occurred recently. There
had been a wreck somewhere off the coast, and several dead sheep
had been picked up just off shore. Of these the skin was carefully
saved, the tallow melted down and turned into homemade candles,
while the carcasses were salted down to serve as food for the dogs
the ensuing winter. The candles were, to be sure, a rather poor
apology for such articles, and their wicking simply pieces of cotton
cloth, but they answered every purpose.
The fishing season was now well advanced, and a trip to Bonne
Esperance assured me that the people generally along the coast
were in "great humor" over the unusually large "catch" offish
which was everywhere reported; but our chief delight centred
in the letters and papers from home which were found await-
ing our arrival, and glad indeed we were to get them. In the
evening we were treated to what at home we should call a mild
thunderstorm, and were informed that it was "the most terrible one
that had ever visited the coast. " Such storms are, indeed, quite
rare here, and there is seldom even what we should call a " hard
rain. " The next day the sky cleared most beautifully, and we
had one of the finest days I have ever seen on the coast.
In the evening one of the fishermen brought in a seventy-five
pound cod, and it was an enormous fellow, the largest I had ever
seen. The day following, as it was warm and pleasant, I took my
first and last plunge bath and swim, off the dock, in Labrador water.
It is safe to say, that in those five minutes there must have been a
change of temperature in my body of at the very least one hundred
degrees, in the shade at that. I never attempted it again.
Thus we pass away the time. Day follows day in quick succes-
sion, while all is pleasure both within and without ; but all pleasures
TRIP DOWN THE COAST. 275
have an end, and too soon we find the vessel that is to convey us
home already in the harbor awaiting us. The Captain is to make
a two weeks' trip " down along " visiting, for purposes of trade, the
various places over which we had been before, yet we preferred
to join him, and so by evening we were packed and " all aboard "
for our trip. We passed Salmon Bay, everywhere abounding in
glacial evidences, rounded its trough-like hollow, which appeared
as if gauged out from the land toward the sea, as it undoubtedly
was, and noted everywhere its peculiarities and attractions. We
visited Blanc Sablon in full summer activity, and saw, even now,
early August, snow-clad hills in the distance beyond ; while nearer
to green slopes and verdure were everywhere scattered by Nature's
profuse hand.
I took my gun and started toward the distant hills. I climbed
the crests close to the beach, and at the head of the bay. They
were huge sand heaps sparingly grassed over, and reaching to two
hundred or more feet above the sea level. Again huge depressions,
nearly as deep as the hills were high, lay before me. These ele-
vated tablelands, and smooth even valleys everywhere intervening
stretched forward and inland in all directions. From the highest
of these tabled hills, what a view burst upon my sight ! On one
side a long extent of country (apparently rich pasture land for herds
of cattle, though we searched for them in vain, and listened in vain
for the tinkling of the cowbell) receded to the hills on the right,
while all was enveloped in dark shadows upon the green ground-
work from the hills and the clouds. The whole outline of the pic-
ture was that of a large funnel ; the tube extending in the distance,
and the mouth occupied, in greater part, by a magnificent large
pond, the outlet of which, draining through the centre of the tun-
nel, followed the tube, and, lost in the distance, eventually found
its way, dashing down the rocky Bradore heights, into the sea.
On the other side Blanc Sablon harbor and the sea beyond came
in view. To the west were Long Point and L'Anse Couteau, while
Wood and Greenley islands occupied the centre of the picture, and
the fishing boats (I counted two hundred or more) everywhere dot-
276 FORTEAU-T- INDIAN IMPLEMENTS.
ted the scene, like flies upon the wall. My game bag was empty
upon my return to the ship, notwithstanding several large flocks of
curlew at which I might have shot, but my mind was filled with this
glimpse of one of the most beautiful of Nature's pictures, so that I
minded not the revilings of our captain at sight of the empty bag.
The next day we reached Forteau. A walk around the base of
the hills and cliffs on the northern side of the harbor, through
growth of tangled spruce and fir where an occasional bluebell or
bed of Cornell peered at us from some sheltered retreat, brought us
to the house of a pleasant and homely family who cordially wel-
comed us. The following day I took a short walk inland, to what
are here called "the deserts, " which are elevations and depressions
of low sand dunes, whose summits are more or less grassy. They are
from ten to fifty feet high, with corresponding depressions of dry
sand. We found in many of these hollows several well formed
spear and arrow heads, and could have picked up a bushel basket
full of "chips," which were everywhere abundant. The story is
told, that when the Esquimaux were driven from this part of the
coast by the mountain Indians, who at the time nearly extermina-
ted that curious race, all this region was the scene of the Indian
descent to the plains from the highlands, hence the chief place of
the engagement between the two parties ; here the Indians made
and used their arrows and other implements. The chippings that
we found were mostly of a white, chalcedony-like flint rock, not at
all like anything that we could find along the coast, but said to be
" common inland. " A few quartz and ordinary flint pieces were
found, but they were comparatively rare. But we were soon forced
to leave this interesting locality. Returning to the house we spent
the evening, while yet light, in watching the feats and gambols of
one of the young dogs as it leaped into the water from a pier over
fifteen feet in height, and even dove for stones thrown at it to a
depth of nearly four feet, bringing the stones to the surface between
and over its fore paws ; then, as the evening had advanced, we re-
turned to the house and retired to rest.
The next morning several of the boys joined us in a walk across
INLAND POND — OFF FOR HOME. . 277
the limestone ledge above the house to Schooner Cove, a small
western branch of L'Anse Loup. Here one of the Newfoundland
merchants has a well-to-do fishing establishment, as also a small
storehouse for the sale of supplies for this part of the coast ; here
we were to meet our vessel which had preceded us by sea. The
walk was over a fertile limestone ridge about two hundred feet high,
where still further evidences of glaciers could be seen about us. I
found the dry beds of several ponds as I walked, and in one place
one small pond still existed. It was situated in a hollow formed in
gradually sloping hillocks. Considerable vegetation grew around it,
and it was altogether quite a picturesque spot. Our guide then
told us its history. He said that the water of the pond was fresh,
but yet so deep that after repeated trials no one had ever been
able to reach the bottom with the sounding lead. It was supposed
to have an underground connection with the sea ; but, he further
explained, that the water itself was not salt since the fresh water,
the results of springs and drainage was lighter than the salt water,
hence would and did not mix with it. At times, he said, the sur-
face was agitated with heavy waves, and covered with a frothy sub-
stance like that which the sea waves cast upon the beach. The
pond appeared to be about seventy-five feet below the height of
the surrounding plateau which averaged two hundred and forty
feet above the sea level.
Saturday, August i3th. We are fairly off for home, I mean our
United States home, to-day, having left our farthest point north-
east, and started towards Quebec. Oh, what beautiful evenings !
What superb weather! How long will it last? Shall we ever
visit here again ? These were the exclamations and questions that
escaped us as we ploughed on, — on through the waters towards
home.
Sunday we reached Old Fort Island, received on board the re-
mainder of our luggage, and in a few hours were off again. To-
wards night it came in foggy, and in the morning it rained quite
hard. In this state of the atmosphere we missed the proper entrance
to the sea that we should have taken, and passed on through what is
278 INCIDENTS OF THE TRIP HOME.
called the little rigoulette, at the bottom of which enters Kekarp-
wei River, and where there is no exit. Never shall I forget the
clearing up of the fog and the disclosing to us of one of those
charming Labrador scenes, so characteristic of the locality ; low
shores, sandy beaches, grassy slopes and tops, and a forest of low
and tall spruce and fir, intermingled with cliffs and rocks every-
where. The passage was so narrow we could with difficulty haul
the ship around without her touching the boom on one shore and
the stern on the other. Narrow and shallow as the passage was,
we succeeded at last, and returned to the opening that we should
have taken at first into the sea. I do not believe that there was a
person, however, save the captain and the crew, who regretted the
extra time spent in this charming region. At length we were once
more out to sea, and right merrily we sped onward, with " belle
brise, " as the captain called it, towards Quebec.
In passing Whale Head, one of the numerous small fishing sta-
tions on this part of the coast, we found a small sail-boat of Indians
following in our wake, a short distance off. The captain, wishing
to send a letter ashore, produced a large bottle, placed the letter
within, carefully corked it again, and, with gestures calling the at-
tention of the Indians to himself, threw it into the sea. We
watched eagerly, and soon had the satisfaction of seeing the Indians'
boat secure the bottle. The captain assured us that the letter would
reach its destination, and that messages were often transported in
a similar manner from place to place, when a favorable wind ren-
dered it impossible to stop the ship, and some sail-boat was near
to pick up the bottle.
Night soon set in, and with it the breeze freshened so that soon the
order was given to reef sails ; this was succeeded by an order
to double-reef both fore and main sails ; and on, on we sped, —
through the treacherous Gulf of St. Lawrence towards home, the
water fairly sissing as we cleaved it, and the wind fairly hissing
as it slid from our sails. I think our Captain told us that we had
made better time, in a given time, than he had ever made before
on any trip ; I fully believe that it might have been true. Wednes-
OFF ANTICOSTI — QUEBEC. 279
day morning the 24th, we shook the reefs from our sails, and in
the evening were anchored off Natashquan. A boat carried off
the mail and returned with the up mail, and we were again mov-
ing. By evening of the next day we were off Anticosti Island, this
scene of so many mournful wrecks and disasters.
The sailors about this part of the coast say that the Gulf of St.
Lawrence ends and the mouth of the river begins just off the west-
ern end of this Island. Most writers make the dividing part at the
bend farther up the river ; which is right is not a point for us to
settle. Off Anticosti the nearest land is Mingan, which has been
so fully described. On the south shore its nearest point is Cape
Gaspe. The island itself is about one hundred and twenty miles
long by thirty wide. It is well wooded in portions of its surface,
though it is generally barren and uninhabited save by a few bears
and other wild animals. Very little and very poor water can be
found upon it, while the two government lighthouses upon either
extremity alone represent the life of the island. Indians occasionally
hunt for bears and procure birch bark for their canoes along its
shores and in its interior. Upon its southern side are dangerous
reefs. Heavy gales occur frequently near by, and many are the
tales of horror told of wreck and disaster upon its coast, but I
hasten on. On Wednesday evening, the 3ist, a gale struck us.
Fierce and heavy it blew. Sharp thunder and lightning were followed
by alternate puffs of wind, cold and hot as if from the mouth of a
furnace. The squall fairly turned into a hurricane. Before we
had gone to rest the gale subsided, the dark clouds gave way, the
rain ceased, and the clear evening predicted a beautiful day for the
morrow. The morrow arrived : it found us once more at Quebec.
280 THIRD TRIP TO LABRADOR.
CHAPTER XVIII.
Third voyage; summer of '82 — Puffin-shooting — Dredging — Bad weather
— Main boom breaks — Chateau and Temple bays — Places of interest —
Mines and minerals — Aurora and phosphorescence — Icebergs — Fox
harbor — Battle island — Indians and Esquimaux — Indian vocabulary —
Square island — Dead island — A water garden — Triangle harbor —
Homeward bound — Notes on Dutch and Esquimaux settlements.
I HAVE nowneared the end of my explorations. Yet, strange to say,
I find myself once more embarked upon the perilous enterprise
of again stemming the sea and stormy Gulf of St. Lawrence for a
further extension of my researches upon the Labrador coast. This
time I start from Boston, July 13, 1882, in a small schooner of
about one hundred tons, the " Polar Star" by name, with a party
of some dozen gentlemen, young and old, who, with me, are also
bound for this bleak and rocky, yet picturesque coast. The party
consists of ornithologists and mineralogists, conchologists and
ichthyologists, photographists and pleasurists. All in an amateur
sense however, except possibly the pleasurists, and they might
almost be said to outweigh everything else and form the main
feature of the party. In fact it was a pleasure party and nothing
else, of which guns, ammunition, and fishing tackle formed the chief
topics of conversation from the time we left until we returned.
I will not stop to describe our journey to Halifax where we pro-
cured a relay of supplies for our voyage ; or of our stop on the
Cape Breton shores, at several points of interest ; or our journey
through Canso to the stormy Gulf of St. Lawrence, where, after
passing the famous Bird Rocks near the Magdalene Islands, just
A GALE — MORAVIAN SETTLEMENTS. 281
east of Anticosti, we encountered one of the shortest but severest
gales that the captain had ever met, that nearly plunged our good
ship with its cargo of precious souls into the bosom of the raging
deep ; but we will pass at once to the sights and scenes which seem
of sufficient importance to induce us to add a single chapter to our
already quite full account of the " men and things " seen and done
upon " the Labrador. "
And now I find that we go over a great deal of the ground al-
ready gone over so fully and often at great length in our previous
pages. Our dozen pleasure seekers, however, gather a great many
new facts, yet we find that the daily life of the native inhabitants
does not differ essentially, as we progress east and north along the
coast, from such as we have already described it to be. The houses
grow smaller and smaller the farther north we go, yet the same
general character of life everywhere prevails.
The time at our command for the voyage is limited, yet we reach
to within a few miles of Rigoulette, the chief station on the east
coast, if we except some of the Dutch settlements much farther
north, and the mouth of the only river of importance in all Labra-
dor. Beyond are the " Dutch settlements, " the headquarters of
the Moravian missionaries, who are supported in their work chiefly
by the Moravians in this country at Bethlehem, Pennsylvania.
Their headquarters on the coast are at Hopedale, Nain, Okkak,
Port Manvers, Hebron, and possibly even at Ungava bay itself,
though at the last named place I am uncertain whether there be an
established station or not. Situated as we are, then, on a flying
visit much farther north than we have ever been before in this most
interesting country, with little time at our command for investiga-
tion, and with so many avenues open through which to procure
facts concerning the places visited, I find myself compelled to as-
sume the diary form of writing ; and, instead of a systematic ac-
count of each place as we visited it, and an arranging of facts
always in their proper connection, I give them as they were pro-
cured, being sure that, in this case at least, it is by far the better
way, and will give more satisfaction in the end.
282 PUFFIN-SHOOTING — GALE OFF CHATEAU.
Our party first visited Bonne Esperance, from there L'Anse
Loup and Forteau ; at each of these places we spent some time
dredging in the harbor, and filling our bottles with specimens and
our cans of alcohol with fishes and other marine treasures. When
off Blanc Sablon, we lowered a boat and all hands went for a hunt.
Some went to Pigeon Island and some the next morning to the west
end of Greenley Island : the puffins were as abundant as when des-
cribed by Dr. Coues earlier in our pages. We had no difficulty in
killing three hundred in a single day, and could have procured twice
that amount without the least trouble. We found the island on this
end literally tunnelled with the holes of this bird, and the appear-
ance was much as if thousands of woodchucks had been at work
burrowing the ground ; there was scarcely a square yard of earth that
did not have at least one burrow in it while more often there were
twenty.
We lay in Forteau and L'Anse Loup harbors, becalmed, for
nearly two weeks, during which time we used the dredge with great
success and brought up from depths varying from six to twenty
fathoms a large assortment and variety of marine invertebrates,
which were carefully labelled and packed away to be sent to the
Smithsonian Institution at Washington. The waters seemed alive
with new and curious forms, however, and every haul of the dredge
procured something that we had not before obtained.
I shall not soon forget our run to Chateau. We started with a
fair breeze but it soon became so foggy that we could not see where
we were going. We reefed sail and continued to beat about look-
ing for some signs of the harbor. Suddenly we passed some fishing
boats but as suddenly found huge rocks looming up directly in
front of us. A shout from our captain, while he put the helm hard
to, brought the vessel around, but so narrowly did we escape the
rocks that as we jibbed we could have touched them with an oar.
We put the ship about, and scud for the open sea. The waves were
lashed to fury by the wind which blew abaft our starboard side ; yet,
blowing as it was in this howling tempest, we succeeded in signal-
ling one of the small boats for a pilot, who boarded us with a great
SOME DAMAGE — CHATEAU AND TEMPLE BAY. 283
deal of difficulty, and again putting about we steered for the harbor
of Chateau or rather Temple Bay, which is the true harbor at this
point, but we did not part with the gale so easily.
As we entered the narrow passage to the bay our captain shouted
to take down sail, but the pilot countermanded the order ; at least,
between the two the order was not obeyed, and, as we were run-
ning with the wind now almost dead ahead, though a little on our
port, suddenly rounding the point of land on our left an unusually
terrific squall struck us, and with a sound like thunder our main
boom snapped like a pipe stem. Had the sailors not rushed to the
ropes and instantly taken down the sail it would have been blown
to threads in a moment. Our jib alone was now sufficient to take
us to the safest position in the harbor, where we soon let down both
anchors, paying out nearly all the chain on each. Here we stayed
in imminent peril all night of being hurled upon the rocks the other
side of the harbor, not forty rods away, at any moment. Thank
Providence our good ship weathered the blast. The next day the
sailors spliced the boom with spruce side pieces and about twenty
fathom of a nice three-quarter inch manilla dredge rope belonging
to our largest dredge ; as we stayed at Temple Bay and about Cha-
teau for two or three days, owing to bad weather, I will try to des-
cribe the place.
Chateau Bay is a small bay and comprises really the outer en-
trance only of a much larger inside bay. The larger is called Tem-
ple Bay, though it is often mistaken for Chateau proper. Henley
Harbor is a small harbor outside the main bay and a little to the
eastward of it. The point of land separating Temple from Pitt's
Bay, east of it, is called Pitt's point, just outside of this is Whale
island which fills the cove so closely that but a very narrow entrance
admits vessels to the harbor within, yet the water is deep enough
here for even large vessels.
Whale island is thus named from a most extraordinary resem-
blance to the shape of a whale's back. It can only be seen from a
single position (the foot of a large hill said to be seven hundred
feet high) in Temple bay and in a northwesterly direction from the
284 WHALE ISLAND — FRENCH FORTS.
island. The highest point on the hump of the back of this marine
granite monster was carefully measured and found to be about three
hundred and forty-five feet above the sea level. It would be a
curious fact if the supposed basaltic prisms of Castle island should
prove to be only a peculiar formation of rocky cliffs similar in origin
with the other rock formations about this part of the coast, but
close investigation seems to show this to be the case. The crouch-
ing figures represented in profile near this place are truly remarka-
ble; they are figures of men, and could hardly bear a closer
resemblance to the real objects if they were indeed genuine. One
of them, especially, so nearly resembles a person in a crouching
attitude as to deceive the keenest eye if watched in the most favor-
able light, and well do these stony sentinels maintain their ceaseless
vigil, year by year, century by century.
The forts, located here, — remnants of the old wars which exter-
minated the Indians and Esquimaux residing on the coast, with the
white settlers then temporarily residing here also, — are objects of
great interest. At one time their outlines were quite distinctly
traceable, and even their internal structure well planed out, but
time has effaced nearly everything but the merest outlines of their
positions, which are now barely sufficient to enable one to deter-
mine their site. The fort at Henley seems to be the larger, more
important, and more distinctly outlined of the two ; the one at
Temple bay the more accessible. At the latter place we dug up
canister and grape shot in abundance and could undoubtedly have
procured a large variety of articles had we spent some time there.
The situation of this fort was the summit of a huge hill the basal
point of which was the separating line between Temple and Cha-
teau bays. On the southeastern side of the slope we found and
examined three caves, or rather clefts in the rocks, of which local
tradition told startling stories of robbers, fierce animals and money,
which were said to exist there. We found no difficulty in " find-
ing bottom, " and saw no cause for alarm, whatever others might
have feared. Superstitions are abundant everywhere on the coast and
there were undoubtedly those who believed the various stories of
POPULAR SUPERSTITIONS— HOUSES. 285
dragons, blackmen, and lobsters with terrible claws, who were said
to guard treasures of inestimable value in these and other abodes
of foxes and weasels. People told us of a large stone monument' or
house about three miles inland said to have been built by parties
from a man-of-war who entered the harbor secretly, some years
since, by night, and proceeded inland for some mysterious pur-
pose. One man, I am told, declared solemnly, that they came for
" buried treasures, " and built this " stone house " to guard the
remainder until they should come for it. Undoubtedly it was
done by the sailors to excite this very superstition. They succeeded
admirably.
Between the hill containing the fort and the opposite height west-
ward, is a most beautifully formed glacial ridge and slide. Seaward
it is more or less abrupt and precipitous though I should judge not
over forty feet high. Towards the bay it slopes evenly and smoothly
to the water. On this slope the houses are built. They are like
other houses on the coast, with a single peculiarity in the shape of
the fireplace. This was a hearth of some iron piece, usually the
sides of an old iron stove, a back fireboard of a similar character,
while the remainder of the chimney was of wood and formed part
of the house proper. Why the blazing, roaring, crackling hearth fire
that I often saw did not burn the house down I cannot well see.
An iron frame, made like an old-fashioned steelyards, hung over the
fire, the hooks of which could be raised or lowered at will, with
two hooks (if I remember correctly) upon which were hung the
kettles — here all the cooking of the family was done. One house-
wife showed me with great exultation, how nicely the bread kettle
hung over the fire. I thought that if a modern mother was obliged
to bake the quantity of bread weekly that this mother did and in
such a primitive manner, she would show the arrangement with
anything but satisfaction.
At one point in Temple bay I visited a mine of white mica that
was just opened. It was romantically situated about 150 feet above
the sea and by the side of a winding brook, that tumbled down
among the confusion of loose rocks below and abounded in trout.
286 MINERALS.
The mica, though very pure, was only in very small pieces. The
rock in which it occurred seemed to be a gigantic bowlder rather
than a rock in place.
While on the subject of minerals I will say that at Dead Island,
some miles farther north, a party of miners boarded us, but did not
remain long. On our whole trip along the coast we found quite a
number of minerals, but none in quantities sufficient to pay for be-
ing worked. We found a mica mine at Dead Island, also, but it
did not appear to be so good even, as that at Temple bay. At
another locality one of the party found a quarry of very poor Labra-
dorite of the black variety ; we obtained a few pieces only. Every-
where granite rock predominated. In one locality veins of quartz
and mica alternating in thin layers, one above the other, extended
for some distance in several directions, bounded, I believe, by gran-
ite also. White and black mica were abundant everywhere, but in
small pieces. Tourmaline of the black variety was not rare and
several remarkably finely terminated crystals were procured. Some
fine rubellite was also found. Copper pyrite was common, as was
also iron pyrite ; sulphide of iron was very abundant : several pieces
of apatite were found ; a large amount of galena and in one locality
molybdenite, the latter probably in no very great amount. Poor
labradorite in various forms and color ; quite large but very brittle
garnets ; argentiferous lead in small quantities ; quartz very clear
and glassy ; feldspar of various colors ; and occasionally greenstone
like Pike's Peak greenstone, wrongly called labradorite, was
found. With this brief account of the mineralogy of the region let
us pass to other and more important subjects.
At Temple bay we spent considerable time dredging, and brought
up many curious and rare specimens from the bottom of the bay.
A large, bright red holothurian or sea- cucumber, seemed particularly
common to this bay, while the smaller varieties also abounded.
Shells of many kinds were dredged without number and at every
haul of the dredge the shrimps and crustaceans seemed equally
abundant. I shall not soon forget a dredging party that took place
one evening in this same bay. We started out from the vessel di-
DREDGING — AURORA — PHOSPHORESCENCE. 287
rectly after supper, and rowed across the bay nearly to the opposite
side, then, letting down our dredge, we began our work. That
night we secured a most strange collection of objects. Our buck-
ets were quickly filled with the profusion of material that was pro-
cured, and we were soon obliged to row back to the ship and get
more pails and buckets. Occasionally, when too near shore, we
would bring up a dredge, full to the top, of spiny sea urchins or
echini among which an occasional star-fish or holothurian would
be found ; in such cases we were obliged to empty the net over-
board and make a new haul.
In the midst of our work, when we had nearly filled our buckets
and pails with rich material, to be looked over in the morning, sud-
denly a most brilliant Aurora gathered in the heavens. It gathered
itself as if it were an immense snake, and with many undulations
seemed to coil and recoil itself to make room for the enormous
length with which it spanned the heavens and reached almost di-
rectly over our heads, from horizon to horizon. It was broad and
of a most intense white. It undulated like a ribbon, and changed
its form continually, sometimes concentrating much like an immense
drop, then as suddenly lengthening again. Then its direction would
change from northeast and northwest to nearly east and west.
While these contortions were attracting our attention in the heav-
ens, another peculiar phenomenon was beginning to appear in the
water, which suddenly became magnetized as it were to an unusual
degree, and that most remarkable occurrence of phosphorescence
began to display itself in a most intense degree. I have never seen
it so beautiful and so luminous. We had now reached the side of
the ship, and every dash of the oar sent large, whirling eddies of fire
off at our right and left. The boat left a long, luminous wake, like
the reflection in the water of the auroral ribbon above. A dash of
the oar would cover the surface with bubbles of fire, while, occasion-
ally, large disks of the same would sail by apparently ten or fifteen feet
below the surface, we could not touch them with our oar, though that
was twelve feet long. We all sat up some time watching these cu-
rious appearances, and each decided that they were the most beauti-
ICEBERGS— FOX HARBOR.
ful that they had ever witnessed. We caught a huge ball of fire on
our dredge rope, and hauled it in. It was placed in a small can of
water and found to be one of the jelly fishes, with which, in the
daytime, the water abounded. It was nearly an inch long. Is it
possible that these animals, large and small, are luminous to such
an extreme degree ?
After remaining for several days in Chateau we left it for our
next port north. We had no more than cleared the land and taken
our course than the fog shut down upon us again, thick and heavy.
We kept steadily onward, however, but soon found we were
rushing into a tremendous ice mass. The vessel's course was changed
just as an immense ice tower, between two and three hundred feet in
height, surged by us with a velocity that would have crushed us in-
stantly had we struck it ; another and another followed, and we be-
gan to fear for our lives, but soon, by good fortune, the fog lifted
and we sighted Belle Isle, turning our prow, then, to a similar
course northward, to that which we had been steering eastward, we
were, by evening of the same day, quietly anchored at Fox harbor,
where we passed a most comfortable night.
Fox Harbor is one of the principal harbors of St. Lewis Sound,
and just north of Cape Charles. It is a large indentation, and con-
tains several very important harbors, the most so being Battle Island,
often called the Boston of Labrador. St. Lewis inlet runs a long
way into the interior of the country and is navigable nearly its whole
length of some twenty to thirty miles, I believe. We did consider-
able dredging here, and produced capital results.
I think that it was on Saturday, Aug. 1 2, that we arrived at Fox
Harbor, and glad enough were we to be in safe anchorage, once
more, while the fog continued to settle upon us. The next three
days were quite pleasant however, and we made the most of them.
Everybody on board started in the boats for a tour of investiga-
tion on shore. Here, at length, we had struck a real semi-arctic
habitation, inhabited by Indians, Esquimaux, and several half-breed
families. The houses were similar, but poorer, than those we had
seen all along the coast. The children were everywhere followed
DOGS — IMPLEMENTS — DREDGING.
289
with troups of dogs, but they were not savage, being mainly pure
Newfoundland and a race of large Indian dogs. Several of these
dogs were brought home by various parties on board, and have
since thrived well, excepting the two Indian hunting dogs, pure
breed, which, I understand, have since died. A peculiarity of these
dogs is said to be the fact, that they will gorge themselves, and
carry food for a longtime in their stomachs untouched by the gastric
juice, disgorging it from time to time for their young. One man
affirmed that he had known them to keep food in this way for two
days, throwing it up in the apparently perfect condition of fresh
meat, upon which young puffins fed greedily.
Our men returned to the vessel loaded with spears, bows and
arrows, komatik whips, sealskin boots and mittens, and several
finely spotted skins. One of the party procured the tusks of a young
walrus, two of these animals having been killed by the natives the
previous winter. They told me here that this animal though occa-
sionally seen about this part of the coast was rarely captured.
Upon inquiring I found that no white bears had been seen here for
several years.
Across the harbor lies Battle Island, on the eastern side of which
is Battle Harbor. It is a village of about fifty houses, and a place of
much importance upon the coast. A mail steamer calls every fort-
night and returns directly to St. Johns. It is a fishing community,
and does not differ much from the settlements at Red Bay or Blanc
Sablon.
We did some good work at Fox Harbor dredging, and this
was the only place where we found squids, although they doubtless
occur more or less abundantly at nearly or quite every harbor.
Another peculiarity of our finds here was the immense number
of small Crustacea, sandfleas and worms, that were everywhere
abundant under rocks and in pools of water wherever we
searched for them. Here, too, as at other places, we dredged sev-
eral Terebratula, but found them generally rare. One of our
party secured a most beautiful and magnificent large salmon trout
nearly two feet long.
19
290 SQUARE ISLAND AND VICINITY.
Leaving Fox harbor we passed Mecklenburg harbor but did
hot enter it, as it was not of sufficient consequence ; we also
passed St. Frances harbor, the mouth of the Alexis River, naviga-
ble for about twenty miles inland, and said to present as beautiful
scenery as any harbor along the coast, while the intricacies of its
mouth being as complex as any river south of Rigoulette, and
steered for St. Michaels and Square Island, the next place of in-
terest, where we stopped over night. We anchored at the farther
end of the harbor, and a most beautiful and picturesque little spot
it was. This place is named Square Island from the large almost
square island which nearly blocks the entrance to the harbor.
We entered through a very shallow and narrow passage, crossed
the harbor, and were soon anchored in a sequestered little spot safe
from everything save those intolerable torments the blackflies and
mosquitoes. The houses here looked more like the nests of an
army of cliff swallows than anything else that I can imagine ; they
were perched everywhere on the high rocks close to the cliffs, and
looked as if glued to them, so closely did they stand ; and so near the
color of the rocks were the weathered boards and boughs of which
they were composed, while so snug was the harbor, that one might
have hunted for weeks for the location, did he not know it from
previous visitation, and then have passed it without discovering the
entrance passage, while high cliffs everywhere surrounded it. A
party went over to Nolan's harbor, a few miles distant, and met
Capt. Fitzgerald, of Harbor Grace, Newfoundland, who oversees
quite a fishery at this point ; but one place so closely resembles
another on this part of the coast, that the intricacies of bays, coves,
islands, and narrow passages of water present every possible shape,
size, and form of harbor. It is, in fact, like the " Bower of Fair
Rosamond," in which one would easily lose one's self without the
help of a most skilful pilot.
On Thursday we left Square Island and sailed to Dead Island, a
few miles north only of our former position, and found quite a com-
munity of fishermen living here. The inhabitants were chiefly sum-
WHAT WE DREDGED.
mer visitors from Newfoundland, engaged in the herring fisheries.
They had quite a good catch, and were about preparing to return
home with their cargoes. The majority of these fishermen, we
found, were from Harbor Grace, Newfoundland, and we everywhere
found them a rough, tough, but not ill-natured race, yet one with
whom we did not care to deal any more than it was found abso-
lutely necessary.
At Dead Island we produced some of our best results at dredg-
ing. The harbor was not deep, but the seaweed, with which the
bottom was covered, was everywhere full of life, and covered with
shells and minute crustaceans. In one small pass to the north
of which we were anchored, I found one of the most remarkable
nests of marine animals that I had ever come across, either on La-
brador or in any of the harbors of Massachusetts. The water was
from one to five fathoms deep, and clear as crystal. The bottom
was one large, magnificent flower bed of anemones growing on a
ground of red nullipore that covered everything. The extent of
this growth must have been acres, and as we sailed along in our
boat we could see the magnificent animals as plainly as if they had
been before us in the bottom of the boat, and we could pick
them with our hands.
The unevenness of the bottom furnished a pleasing variation of
elevations and depressions. Choice nooks and hiding places, or
plains were everywhere interspersed. Natural grottoes, and varie-
ties of rock-work, all were there, and all covered with " red rock,"
or "live rock " as the people call this peculiar growth, probably the
red nullipore (Lithothamnion polymorphism) , and some so heavily
incrusted as to represent miniature shrubs and trees even by
their own incrusted additions. Over this growth the anemone
(Metridium) grew as luxuriant as flowers reared in plant house
or hot-bed, and a most gorgeous hot-bed, even of beautiful
and rare tropical plants could not have excited more admiration.
I hauled up, with a huge scoop of the dredge, specimens whose
base measured ten and even more inches across, and whose ex-
292 SEA ANEMONES.
panded disk was nearly as wide. Fringed tentacle several inches
in length would surround a disk whose neck was more often over
than under six inches in length. When touched they would
coil into a mass of leathery pulp as large as a medium-sized musk
melon.
This fine floral carpet was everywhere interspersed with green
echini, some large as a good-sized sunflower ; myriads of starfish,
with yellow, red, or brown backs were basking in some clear space
or curled up to fit the surfaces of the rocks upon which they
lay. Suddenly we came upon a single bed, it must have been
nearly half an acre in extent, in the middle of the passage, where an
almost perfectly level spot appeared so covered with these anemones
that their waving fringes intermingled to hide the bottom and pre-
sent a bed truly of the most exquisite and fairylike texture. Truly
were I to be buried in the ocean, I could not nor would I ask
for a more enchanting spot upon which to rest. I am sure
that no Arabian Nights' tale ever pictured a more imaginative
scene of splendor, than this simple bed of sea flowers — this " wind
flower" of the water formed in reality.
We left Dead Island on Wednesday the 23rd, and sailing through
the same narrow pass, which opened into a broad bay-like harbor
beyond and a series of intricate channels, coves and islands, we at
length reached Triangle harbor, another of those pirate-like coves
in which the coast so profusely abounds. The harbor is well shel-
tered from the seas, but hard to enter, being narrow and shallow.
High hills and cliffs are all about it, the highest point, on the
right, being a hill with lofty sides extending perpendicularly
nearly to its very crest, which is about three hundred and eighty
feet above the sea. We threw stones from this crest into the sea
and found that the top receded, from a point that overhung the
water about midway of this height, so much that the stones we
threw with all our force fell into the water behind the cliff and con-
sequently out of our sight. Back from the hill grew a luxuriant
growth of vegetation, while a small but deep pond, partially sur-
END OF VOYAGE.
rounded with high cliffs, afforded us a most excellent opportunity for
a fine bath in not too cold fresh water. The pond was one of a series,
doubtless extending way into the interior and forming the head
waters of some stream that flowed to the sea in one of the neigh-
boring fiord valleys, abundant here also. At this, our final post
north, we secured capital results with the dredge, though we found
a clayey and muddy bottom, which, I recollect, gave us great trouble
to strain in our sieves. Black bears are abundant in these parts,
I was told, and the very morning after our arrival one was seen
perched on the summit of a huge cliff above us. It was pursued
by the natives but not captured.
At length, on Friday the 25th, we started for home, as our time
of absence had already nearly expired. We stopped at Fox har-
bor on our way back, and the next day had a most excellent run
of about one hundred and ten miles to Bonne Esperance where
we remained over Sunday and Monday.
At Bonne we found a new machine in operation for the conversion
of the refuse of cod and other fish into a sort offish guano. Sev-
eral barrels had been sent to the United States to be analyzed and
tried for mixture with other materials for a soluble guano for the
land and crops, but I am not informed as ' to whether it was a suc-
cess or not.
Monday night, for our benefit, the natives performed a Labrador,
or rather Newfoundland dance, at one of the native cabins near
by. A crowd of about thirty assembled and danced till nearly
morning. Their main object seemed to be to " start the sweat,
and see who could make the most noise. " It seemed as if the
very house would come down over our heads as they hammered
on the floor with their top-legged boots pounding with the full force
of their powers : this serenade to the departing guests closed our
sight-seeing upon the Labrador Coast, while the hearty good-bye
of Mr. Whiteley, the magistrate, compensated for all bad weather
and mishaps that we had previously experienced as we slowly
spread sail and started for home.
294
NATIVE INDIAN DIALECT.
The following brief Indian vocabulary will give a slight clew to
that most obscure yet interesting language of the Labrador Indians,
as spoken all along the coast.
AMONG THE NUMERALS.
1 pay yuck.
2 nesh.
3 nurst.
4 nao.
5 pertater.
6 goot wash.
7 nish wash.
8 nursh wash.
9 pay-er coush.
10 pay-er cannou.
20 nesh ennou.
30 nurst ennou.
OTHER WORDS.
and,
ash-shoo.
no,
mar watch.
I, me,
nin.
yes,
topway.
you,
tin.
what,
chaquin.
he,
win.
water,
nee-pe.
that,
ne-ya.
spirits, liquor,
skutee-wabee.
all of us (we),
cassino.
an axe,
eustache.
money,
soumentish.
salmon,
oush-a-muck.
quick,
sellerpe.
trout,
meta-muck.
girl,
squish.
cod,
ohm-zhee.
boy,
nowpee.
seal,
ar-chook.
mother,
naga.
deer,
atchick.
give,
perta.
martin,
wabistan.
I go with you,
mu pou shoo.
meat,
mee-ash.
how much,
ten ash push.
butter,
tootoosh pimme.
ship,
jonne push.
milk,
tootoosh ackee.
come on,
stammetay.
pork,
coocoosh.
go on,
mate.
lard,
pimme.
canoe,
oushe.
NOTE. The other important localities on the Labrador Peninsula are as
follows : —
Hamilton Inlet (Ivucktoke) which extends about ninety navigable miles in
a westerly direction. Its entrance is a wide bay which is succeeded by lake-
like expansions of this same inlet connected by narrow passes or channels. In
NOTE. 295
the first channel, or " the narrows," as it is called, are Indian Village and Rig-
oulette, — the latter the most important station hereabouts; and formerly, I
believe, if not now, connected with the Hudson's Bay Company. The river,
which flows into this inlet and is called by the natives Esquimaux river, is
the largest and most important in all Labrador. It is the terminus of the
French and English settlements on the coast : below it the Dutch and Esquimaux
are the chief and more often the only inhabitants, to Ungava Bay itself which
borders the entrance to Hudson's Bay.
These almost mongrel inhabitants are known chiefly by the names of their
villages, as the people of Umiakkoviktanuk or Cape Strawberry, which is some
1 200 feet above the sea, in the background of which is Altagaiyaivik or Monkey
Hill, said to be over 2000 feet high. Next comes a post of the Hudson's Bay Com-
pany at Aillik, and one on the opposite side of the bay at Kaipokok. Towards
the sea are the Gull rocks, called by the musical ( ?) name of Nanyaktikiluk,
and farther along Gull island or Nanyaksigaluk. On the mainland nearly
opposite Gull island comes the important Mission station of Hopedale. Be-
low this is Nain, the next important Moravian mission. East of Nain is
Tunnulusoak or Pownal or Paul Island, the place so often quoted as abound-
ing in Labradorite. Okkuk, followed by Port Manvers and Hebron, other
missionary stations follow while Cape Chudleigh (or Chidley as some give it)
forms the northern terminus, from which this promontory descends to Un-
gava Bay the northern boundary of the Labrador Peninsula. Of the interior of
this vast plateau little or nothing is known. The blackflies and mosquitoes form
an almost impassable barrier to investigation; try it once and you will thor-
oughly believe it.
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