: ¥ ‘ z f * ' ween | 5 a ° F p ’ = ove z *j e f -t & a F i “4 - 2 “7 ¥ 7 - . te a ~ F “f s “4 re 4 r 4 2 :. r S 4 4 ." 4 F j - - - “4 ° .. P 4 : 4 ~ > ‘ r z 5 SESESERSESCERS PERE SES eee ERSCSTESES ESSE we seastac iyengpup ase teammate egdel att ie era Lac he WY, INS PLA : i ee ie ds in es A AL Tee “ A Sa! ays Alias: ay p ty ie. ot ‘ j 7 che f i Oe A 5 ;, wef - ri , ' ‘ He - ‘ D j r ‘ Fe hy 3 , ‘ . . = - Ate cm = , : , , 4 ‘ a4 A ‘ 7 7 y , 5 ; i : | in? 7 My \" s t ¢ © ; ‘ ‘ i 3 5 " a LABRADOR THE COUNTRY AND THE PEOPLE THE MACMILLAN COMPANY NEW YORK - BOSTON + CHICAGO ATLANTA + SAN FRANCISCO MACMILLAN & CO., LimiTEpD LONDON - BOMBAY + CALCUTTA MELSBCURNE THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, Ltp. TORONTO LABRADOR THE COUNTRY AND THE PEOPLE BY WILFRED T. GRENFELL, C.M.G., M.R.C.S., "M.D. (Oxon. ) AND OTHERS | NEW EDITION REVISED AND WITH A NEW INTRODUCTION Neto Work THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 1922 All rights reserved CopyricuT, 1909, 1913 and 1922, By THE MACMILLAN COMPANY. Set up and electrotyped. Published November, 1909. New edition with new matter April, 1913. Revised and with a new Introduction June, 1922. Printed in the United States of America JUL 12 1922 ©o1.A6 74882 aA® | FOREWORD By WILFRED T. GRENFELL HAVING selected for myself a role in life that compels me to pass most of my days along the coasts of Labrador, I have come to love the rugged fastnesses of my adopted country, and to lament the amount of almost Stygian dark- ness that hangs still over it and its resources. With re- gard to the future of this vast area, nearly half a million square miles, I am myself an optimist. True it is that the great tide of humanity flowing ever westward has for the most part passed it by, leaving it lone and frigid in its polar waters. But the hand of man has grappled with harder problems than this presents. __ A scientific man has but recently transformed the use- less flora of hitherto arid deserts into food for man and beast ; at the bidding of an engineer water is now flowing over the sands of Southern California, and land of perhaps unrivalled fertility is the result. Man’s hand has dammed the royal Nile, so long prodigal of her unfettered waters ; and a vast, new kingdom is springing into being. A college man has given his skill to acclimatizing fruit and vegetables to Dakotan frosts, and we have a plum that withstands a temperature of forty degrees below zero Fahrenheit, and strawberries that will live in the open all winter even in that climate. v vi FOREWORD The coming granary for the world’s wheat supply was yesterday despised as “the land of snows”; to-day the subsoil of the world’s best wheat land never thaws out, and the frozen valley of the Peace River is vying with the “corn” lands of the Pharaohs. To us here, away out of the world’s hum and bustle, it seems only a question of time. Some day a railway will come to export our stores of mineral wealth, to tap our sources of more than Niagaran power, to bring visitors to scenery of Norwegian quality yet made peculiarly attractive by the entrancing colour plays of Arctic auroras over the fantastic architecture of mountains the like of which can seldom be matched on the earth. Surely it will come to pass that one day another Atlantic City will rise amidst these unexplored but invigorating wilds to lure men and women tired of heat and exhausted by the nerve stress of overcrowded centres. It has seemed appropriate, in this belief, to try to collate available information in the form of a book that should bring within easy reach of the public the facts that are of interest concerning Labrador. It is hoped, also, that such a book will act as an incentive to others to come and pursue still further the studies and explora- tions herein described. With these objects in view I sought the help of friends skilled in the various branches of science, as it can now declare the meaning of Labrador, the land and the people. Dr. Reginald A. Daly, Professor of Geology at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology of Boston, had, during an extended trip in a schooner along the Lab- rador coast, expended considerable work upon its rock formations, and to him has been intrusted not only FOREWORD Vil the chapter on Geology, but also the task of editing the whole work. Dr. E. B. Delabarre, Professor of Psychology at Brown University, accompanied Dr. Daly on his journey along the coast, and has described the flora from an ecological point of view as most likely to be of interest to the average reader. His exhaustive list of plants has been omitted from the book, but is preserved at Brown University. Dr. C. W. Townsend of Boston and Mr. G. M. Allen, who have written on the ornithology, made a special journey to Labrador to study its birds. Dr. Townsend has already published a book entitled Along the Labrador Coast as a further result of their expedition. Mr. Charles W. Johnson, Curator of the Boston Society of Natural History, has undertaken the insects (Mr. John Sherman, Junior, expert on the beetles, has described this special group) and mollusks from a collection of Mr. Owen Bryant of Harvard, made in 1908. Mr. Outram Bangs has supplied the list of mammals. Miss Mary J. Rathbun, the well-known expert at the United States National Museum at Washington, supplied all the information we have about the crustaceans, includ- ing a study of those collected by Mr. Bryant. Dr. A. P. Low, Deputy of Minister of Mines in Canada, has contributed a chapter on the interior of this little- known land. Mr. William B. Cabot of Boston, who for several years has made an annual visit to the Montagnais Indians of Labrador, and who has edited a dictionary of their lan- guage, has had unique opportunities for observing their habits. He has contributed a valuable monograph from his special experiences. Vill | FOREWORD The chapter on History was to have been prepared by Mr. W. G. Gosling of St. John’s, Newfoundland, who had devoted some years, and gone to no small expense, on a special study of this subject. But his results involved such an extended treatise that it was thought wiser to issue them under a separate cover than unduly to enlarge this volume, and Mr. W. 8. Wallace, of Balliol College, Oxford, has prepared a brief historical introduction. For seventeen years I have been collecting such facts as my regular work permitted. From them I have selected material for certain chapters. To many friends who have supplied such information I wish to acknowl- edge my indebtedness. Incomplete as this book surely is, it is issued from a desire to record the more interesting facts, the coins of science, which might otherwise need rediscovery. It is hoped that the book may be of use even to those familiar with Packard’s excellent work. PREFACE THE three years which have passed since the publica- tion of this book have seen more attention paid to the development of Labrador than the twenty-five preceding. The results promise to be consonant with the views herein expressed ; viz., that Labrador may always remain a “ La- bourer’s Land,” a land where men are obliged to work for sport or a living, but one which can yield an ample return to those who do so. Deposits of rich ore may at any time give out, but the wealth of Labrador lies in those things which, if properly handled, are ever reproducing themselves. The fact is that as a storehouse and sanctuary Labrador needs now, if ever, the serious and disinterested attention of those able to save it. With this end in view, I have decided to add to the new edition a chapter on Conserva- tion and Exploration in Labrador, and what that might mean, not only for the future of the country itself, but also to the increasing population of the North American Continent. Besides this chapter, I have also added a much-needed bibliography and some remarks about the habits of our land mammals. WILFRED T. GRENFELL, M.D. SS. ‘‘ Srratrncona,”’ NortH LABRADOR. . ‘ 4 if wi 4 CA ts . i : es | 4 + => ' L.A : yf 2 . ahs ied i Oe ks sails shin i cy . bi i } ) j hi t * 4 ie hit F v : t ; i g FO be ee te : ; ti; ° ie U ‘ b a ra ee ee 1 <9 “ie cs, 2 , : , eva Wie INTRODUCTION Durinc the years that have elapsed since this symposium was published, a good deal of work has been done on the _Labrador Peninsula and new facts have been contributed to our knowledge concerning it that are of interest to the public. The deductions of all recent observers is that the country has been too harshly judged and that it is far from being the awful desolation pictured by Professor Hind, or necessarily the home of starvation that Professor Sterne would have the world believe. Labrador has continued through the ages the lone, lorn widow of civilization. The possible values of its half million square miles are still almost unknown. The Canadian Geological Survey has done splendid work on it, though no industrial development has resulted from its discoveries. Due to its work, however, an immense amount of light has been thrown upon this vast peninsula with its waters drain- ing into four seas. Geologically it forms part of the great Canadian Shield —a vast complex of pre-Cambrian rocks, which in its well-known parts has furnished immense de- posits of valuable minerals, such as the iron and copper of the Lake Superior district, the magnetic iron ores of the Adirondacks, the gold of the Porcupine, the silver and co- balt of Cobalt, and the nickel and copper of Sudbury, On- tario. It is reasonable to suppose that treasures do lie still untouched in Labrador’s rocks. For beyond the mere anal- ogy with the rest of Northern Canada, gold was discovered ‘Sn situ’ a few years ago in the Mealy Mountains, a range xl xt INTRODUCTION running northwest and southeast about the centre of the east coast. The furore created at that time ended in a small expedition whose efforts are marked now only by a heap of abandoned machinery on the sandy beaches between Sandwich Bay and Hamilton Inlet. The long winter which prevents communication by water with the northern part of the seacoast for eight or nine months out of twelve also broke the Syndicate which was mining pyrites for the sulphur one hundred miles south of Cape Chidley. So far nothing has been done to develop the large iron deposits known as mag- netite and hematite in the Grand River Valley. Like some sulky virgin, Labrador is still wrapped in the garments of isolation, while her lovers seem for the time to have turned dejectedly away. Probably the best overture made for her favor has been the quarrying of some of the precious labra- dorite which appears in large quantities near Nain and also near the Northwest River. War and industrial unrest have prevented the settlement of the question of the boundary of Newfoundland Labrador. It is still an undefined strip of land along the Atlantic Coast and the Straits of Belle Isle. This fact, as far as the develop- ment of the country is concerned, is a serious handicap. However, events in Newfoundland seem to point to the prob- ability of confederation with Canada in the near future, when the point at issue could readily be solved even if the decision of the Privy Council, now under consideration, never ma- terializes. In 1912 all the rest of the large peninsula formerly known as ‘‘Labrador” was added to the Province of Quebec, an area reputed to contain 354,961 square miles. Under the medieval title ‘“‘the coasts of Labrador,’’ Newfoundland still holds jurisdiction over an unknown quantity of it, as if she were some sea rover granted all she could get out of “ foreign parts abroad.” INTRODUCTION >a Canada in 1921 sent the 8.8. Acadia to make a complete survey of Hamilton Inlet, which she claimed directly lumber mills were erected in the Grand River district. As a result, the big companies trading for fur in the Bay have refused to pay duties to Newfoundland. If justified in this, it looks as if those which have long been paid under protest would have to be refunded by the Colony. As Labrador has no representation, it being too expensive to collect the votes of the widely scattered inhabitants, it was proposed in 1919 to appoint the Governor of Newfound- land ex-officio as Commissioner for it, but nothing resulted and there is still no one to care for her interests. The first protector, the Governor of Boston, refused to look after her, Newfoundland neglected her, and Canada got tired of her and returned her, till now she still drags along unrepresented and uncared for. This is so much the case that close as she is to the United States many of her marvellous fjords are as yet uncharted. Thus the only chart extant of the approach to Nain from the sea was made in 1912 by a German. My Own copy was presented to me by the author, captain of the battleship Bremen, later so famous in the Great War. The captain of the mail steamer patrolling the northern three hundred miles of coast says that he never uses a chart, as there is none of any value, except for the general direction. The bays of Labrador are marvellously wild and interest- ing, many still untrodden by the foot of civilized man. In the Labrador Pilot, volume II of 1917, are our descriptions of three of these bays. In addition, we have explored three more. Jeanette Bay has a fine harbour for yachts at the en- trance, and a vessel of ten feet draught could easily pick her way up thence, following her motor boat to an anchorage close to a fine salmon river. The seals and birds which we saw in the Bay also made us feel that it would appeal strongly X1V INTRODUCTION to sportsmen. Mr. Paul Rainey in the 8.8. Surf visited it about 1912, and secured excellent hunting and fishing. Ad- latok Bay is also a wonderful piece of water, uniting half way down with another great bay called Ugutok. Of all the fjords visited by us and as yet undescribed, I would place Tik- koaktokak Bay first for grandeur and awe-inspiring scenery. Its perpendicular cliffs polished by land and snowslides; its extraordinary formation on the north side and the two rivers flowing into the head, one from the east and the other from the southwest, with their mouths within a biscuit’s toss of one another, make it an exceptionally thrilling experience to penetrate to its headwaters. The anchorage there is safe and excellent. These magnificent waterways will some day prove one of the chief sources of income of the ‘Lonely Lab- rador.”’ While we took salmon and large trout on the fly the former need a lot of tempting to rise, though each fish was worth catching. One could see hundreds in the pools. — There is also hunting in season, — deer trails, bear foot- prints, and other signs of wild animal life being very evident. Of the other bays, Seaglek runs in forty miles, between cliffs averaging two thousand feet in height and in places reaching to over three thousand five hundred. For the last twenty miles these cliffs are only separated by a narrow mile of fjord, and give an impressive sense of grandeur as one sails up. In Kanairiktok Bay —running in about thirty miles from the seacoast —is a beautiful fall thirty feet high, the foam of which can be seen miles distant. In Adlavik Bay are several rivers and in the pool of one of them were hundreds of salmon. The old idea that salmon north of latitude 52° will hardly take a fly is entirely exploded. Two American friends fishing in the Hagle River this year (1921) only stopped fishing because they had caught all they needed and could preserve. INTRODUCTION XV The forests of Labrador, though not known to be of great value and immense extent, are hardly touched by man’s enterprise. Black and white pines attain commercial size in most of the river valleys as far north as 55°. Spruce two feet across and several feet long are numerous in the Ham- ilton River Valley. An adventurous aéronautical survey of the timber lands of the southeastern section made in 1919 showed a very general and dense distribution of good-looking timbers, birch and balsam poplars being everywhere in evi- dence among the conifers. Judging by the excellent spars up to seventy feet long which I have seen floated out of rivers as far north even as the big river of Adlavik north of Cape Harrison, the day is not far off when in this land of Cain the “welkin will ring to the tune of axes and saws”’ that will hew out prosperity for a people, even as at Chicoutami and Abatibi, further west and south in the same peninsula. The much frequented ocean way known as the Straits of Belle Isle which bounds Labrador on the southeast has been again of late the subject of serious discussion. It has been suggested that a dam nine miles long be built from Point Amour to Flowers Cove on the north Newfoundland shore, which would close off the Gulf of St. Lawrence. This, by shutting out the Arctic ice and the cold water of the Polar current, might considerably ameliorate the climate of all the land to the westward. ‘The water is not deep, and the enter- prise is in no way impossible. Judging from personal ex- perience, however, I should very much doubt this result on the climate, for the outside ice seems seldom to penetrate far enough into the Gulf to alter the temperature much, although the formation of ice locally may be responsible for this. The fact that the ability to free nitrogen from its com- pounds was really a measure of power to win the war also suggests a great future for the perfectly untold undeveloped Xvl INTRODUCTION energy of the waterfalls from the great Labrador table-land. When it is remembered that Germany succeeded during the past few years in converting a need for nitrogen expressed . by 750,000 tons annually of imported nitrates into an ability to export 500,000 tons of her own manufacture from the air, the untold possibilities of a country, one-fourth of which is estimated to be lakes and rivers, and whose immense table- lands rise many hundreds of feet above the sea and measure hundreds of thousands of square miles, can well be realized. It needs no special prophetic vision to foretell a future for this long neglected country, especially when timber, coal and other fuel get scarcer, as they bid fair to do, before the energy of the free atom is at man’s service. Such energy in all probability will be available by the use of some such unstinted cheap power as falling water—a geometrical progression, exactly as toxins communicated are stepped up, becoming more toxic as they affect each new person. An- other new and enormous source of power was put on the map in 1921 by John Thomas of Buffalo. Travelling from the hospital at Northwest River in the month of March with his dogs he discovered twenty miles south of the present Grand Falls another of the same height though less in volume. The water is an offshoot of the Grand River above the falls and rejoins it below. Okpatik, Kanairiktok and others are also very considerable sources of power. About the centre of the country one of the most wonderful phenomena in the world, the Grand Falls of Labrador, still yields neither its pleasure nor its energy to mankind, and only a rare traveller has set eyes upon its marvels. So far it has always been the fishery and furring industry of Labrador in which have consisted its chief sources of wealth. Considerable changes have overtaken both her land and sea industries. ‘Twine for nets, rope, canvas and all ship neces- INTRODUCTION XVil sities, pork, flour and foodstuffs, oilskins, boots, woollens and all clothing, have so risen in cost that fish cannot be caught now for less than double the old-time prices. Freights have mounted also; poverty and adverse exchange have so crippled our customers in the Mediterranean that it has become so big a venture to fit out a schooner for the fisheries that many of the very best of our ‘‘voyage-killers’”’ have ceased to prosecute their calling, while some of the supply merchants have been driven out of business. New markets must be opened up. Temporarily Russia is bidding for a large quantity; while efforts are also being made to sell Labrador fish in the United States. Unfortunately the new revision of the tariff, among other things, discriminates against fish practically to its ex- clusion. America’s new policy is to raise a huge wall of ex- clusion against her poor little neighbour; and some of us question its wisdom. New methods of catching fish, such as flax gill nets, have been introduced to prevent the disaster that follows upon there being too much bait fish, in which case the cod, lying stoggy in deep water, glutted with food, are impossible to work. There is now even a machine to split the cod, remove the bone and clean the fish, which is in operation in some parts of Labrador. The machine will take seventy fish in a minute and might be made to do even three times that quan- tity. } Some markets are being opened in Europe for our salmon, and one or two steamers have prepared to furnish cold storage space during transportation. The old method of salting fish in barrels does not leave it appetizing enough to ever develop a new market. The recent idea of having the salmon ex- ported frozen, though about three times the cost, is well worth the expenditure. About one million pounds went out in 1921. There is also a modern plan for converting the immense xvii. INTRODUCTION bulk of offal, heads and general wastage from our fish, into food for chickens. This has not yet been perfected, but is being tried out. As the matter stands at present the waste is appalling. The large amount of gelatin now lost promises to produce a bi-product that will again add greatly to the incentive to engage in the fisheries. Even before the war Germany was using over two hundred and fifty thousand tons of fish meal made from waste fish and fish waste, for feeding hogs and cattle. In Iceland cows are fed on salt fish, and they even seem to like and thrive upon the gristle and tail fins of large fish. There is no reason why we should not make farina — the dry powdered product of the flat fish now wasted, or of other fish — seeing that it has a protein value over sixty per cent. All that is needed in Labrador is to wisely utilize its natural products. The onslaught with gun harpoons and fast steamers has to some extent told on the number of large cetaceans that come within striking distance of our shores. At the present mo- ment every whaling station is closed. For our dog teams in winter we are already lamenting the loss of the generous supply of fat and protein food that was formerly furnished us by that industry, for as our sole means of transportation during at least six months of the year, the physical welfare of our dogs is of vital importance. Our seals have certainly decreased in number. The great steamers with their large crews and modern rifles give unprotected mothers and their young little chance to escape; and many of the old fishery stands, where the seals in spring and fall regularly “trimmed the shore’”’ and were captured in large numbers, are now hardly worth fishing. The greatly increased difficulty of getting seal-skin moccasins which are a necessity to life in the North emphasizes the fact, and calls more loudly than ever to have accorded to these valuable animals the protection, when breed- INTRODUCTION Seis ing, that every other mammal on earth useful to man has to have, in order to save it from extinction. The scientific study of the movements of our staple food fishes, like so much else, is still quite neglected. A big fishery will be carried on all summer on one side of a headland, and not catch enough fish to eat, while on the other side fish are so plentiful that the fishermen are unable to haul their nets or salt their catches. Why? Noone knows. Cana fisherman find out if he should remain waiting or move to another berth? Every year empty boats return with impoverished bread- winners from the Coast due to this peculiar fact. Yet no one knows what the cause is, nor how to avert it; and no one is seriously trying to find out. Temperature of the water is said to be the cause. In rivers heated by forest fires trout die at a temperature of 68° F. The bait fish in the sea appear to be even more sensitive. Caplin, on the move- ments of which our cod fishing depends, seem to die at a much lower temperature and to be sensitive to even one or two degrees rise. If a fisherman, by lowering a thermometer into the sea, knew that he could not find fish in one place, he would move to another; but no one is even trying to teach him how to find out. Labrador is affording the world a most explicit illustration of the fact that impulses radiate in every direction. When trap-nets were first evolved and it was found that cod could be caught in immense quantities at one time, fishermen worked for an earthly paradise, and we prophesied a great increase in their numbers. But the contrary has happened. As soon as motor engines came into use, they found it so easy to go to and fro from the fishing grounds that we again prophe- sied that every man would be selling his farm and buying a schooner. But again the reverse was the result. If ever the price of fish were to reach ten dollars a quintal we prophesied xx INTRODUCTION plenty and ease for the fishermen. But once more we were entirely wrong. Even now the fishermen get nearly three times the price for their catch that used to satisfy their fore- bears, but they are poorer than ever, so poor that many are literally starved out of fishing. All along the line the country has made so-called progress, but the average fisherman is if anything less able to wrest his bread and butter from his hard environment. Here and there a stalwart lad has returned to the hook and line fishery, avoiding the gamble of a huge and expensive net lable without a moment’s notice to be lost owing to heavy seas or ice and leave the venturer with a debt which he can never hope to pay. The “ hook-and- liner’ has to work harder, to fish during a longer season, and to endure more physical hardship, but he gains enormously in mental peace. Not afew of these same men even scrapped their motor engines when the price of oil mounted to a dollar a gallon. They thus inadvertently avoided the result of the motor habit, the symptoms of which seem to be marked by the atrophy of both physical and moral muscles. Mr. William Cabot journeyed from St. Augustine to Par- adise rivers in 1920, and his almost annual visits to them have demonstrated that our ancient Indian Aborigines are rapidly approaching extinction. The high selling price of fur during the war lured the white trappers to penetrate even further than ever into the interior and so curtail the Indians’ ground. The Indian will farm the valuable fur-bearing an- imals on his presumptive territory as carefully as a farmer his stock, while he will destroy all the caribou that. he sees, though they are equally necessary to his life, since he depends on them for food. But he knows that the caribou is a va- grant, and that the white settler will shoot it if he does not. On lands that are common hunting grounds he has no reason to spare anything. Cabot, who better than any one knows INTRODUCTION XXl these people from long personal acquaintance, living and trav- elling with them, and having helped to publish a book of their language, describes them as a very charming race, friendly, peaceful, generous and real sportsmen — but doomed. The native Eskimo and half-breed population were almost decimated in 1918 by a terrible epidemic of influenza. In one village of three hundred people, in three weeks, two hun- dred and fifty died — which toll included every adult male. In some white settlers’ homes every soul died in a few hours ; and some, isolated and enfeebled, were killed by their own famished dogs and partly eaten, there being literally no one left to go to their assistance. The chief Moravian settlement at Nain, on its one hundred and fiftieth anniversary, was destroyed by fire, the very day after their steamer Harmony had landed all their winter supplies. Everything was de- stroyed, including the valuable fur catch of the year, and the personal belongings of the missionaries. For the past one hundred and fifty years the Moravians have been the cham- pions of the Eskimo people. Still, there is a future, and a great future, for Labrador, as there was for “Our Lady of the Snows,”’ for Alaska, for Australia, New Mexico, Florida, and other countries that have but recently come to their own. Personally, I can see the day ever clearer as the years go by. It may not be in my time. But the world needs now what the Labrador can give — this great, lone land of silence. In body and spirit it has great things to offer. During the years that have passed since this volume was first published, our faith has become only more unshaken in the future of ‘“‘the Labrador.” CHAPTER Jie TE. VIII. XVI. XVII. XVIII. CONTENTS HisTorRIcAL INTRODUCTION — By W. S. WALLACE TRAVELLED RouTsEs To LABRADOR— By WILFRED T. GRENFELL . THE PHYSIOGRAPHY OF LABRADOR— By WILFRED T. GRENFELL . THE GEOLOGY AND SCENERY OF THE NORTHEAST Coast — By REGINALD A. DALY.. THe Hamitton RIVER AND THE GRAND FALLS — By ALBERT P. Low THe ProrpLeE oF THE CoAst— By WILFRED T. GRENFELL Tue Inprans— By WiuuiAM B. CaAsor . THe Missions— By WILFRED T. GRENFELL . REINDEER FOR LABRADOR — By WILFRED T. GREN- FELL THe Docs—By WILFRED T. GRENFELL THe Cop anv Cop-FisH—ery—By Witrrep T. GRENFELL THE SALmMon-FiIsHERY — By WILFRED T. GRENFELL THe HERRING AND OTHER FisH— By WILFRED T. GRENFELL THE OcEAN MammMats — By WILFRED T. GRENFELL THe Brrps— By CHAartes W. TowNnsEnpD THE Firora—By E. B. DELABARRE ANIMAL LIFE IN LABRADOR CONSERVATION AND EXPLORATION IN LABRADOR XXili PAGE XXl1V CONTENTS APPENDICES NO. I. Insects or LABRADOR—By CHARLES W. JOHNSON AND JOHN SHERMAN, JR. : II. THe Marine Crustacea — By Mary J. Raneeee Ill. THe Moitiusks— By CHARLES W. JOHNSON IV. List oF THE MAMMALS OF LABRADOR — BY OUTRAM BANGS V. List or THE Birps or LABRADOR —By CHARLES W. TOWNSEND AND GLOVER M. ALLEN VI. List oF CRUSTACEA ON THE LABRADOR Coast — By Mary J. RATHBUN List oF Books, ETC., ON LABRADOR : ‘5 < BIBLIOGRAPHY . : : e : ‘ ; INDEX e ° e e e e S e e e e PAGE 453 473 479 484 495 506 515 519 521 FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS WitFrReD T. GRENFELL . . ° . : : Frontispiece : FACING PAGE Mar or LABRADOR . ¢ x 5 ‘ z ‘ F ih GRENFELL STRAIT " 3 - ‘ ‘ y , 4 Leathe eS GARDENS AT NAIN, SHOWING POTATOES BEING COVERED AT NIGHT FROM THE SUMMER FROST . ‘ ¢ Q ait OD “Woman Box” ror WintER SLEDGE TRAVEL : 3 oh oe THE WELL-BELOVED MAIL-MAN ; : ‘ ‘ : “mor Mt. RAzOR-BACK FROM THE SoutH, Five Mites Distant . 92 THe East WALL OF THE SOUTHERN ARM OF NACHVAK BAy 96 THE CLIFFS ON THE NortH SIDE oF MuGrorp TICKLE « 10k Care MuGrorbD, LookING NortTH . - : ‘ ‘ . 108 View FROM A HILL NEAR HopEDALE Mission House . oo) LLY: IcE-woORN SURFACE NEAR AILLIK BAY . ‘ d ; . 120 LOOKING SOUTH INTO THE TALLEK, THE SOUTHERN ARM OF Nacuvak Bay . . ‘ : ‘ ‘ : : «, Be GLACIAL BOULDERS ON A RIDGE NEAR Ice TickLE Hargour 130 Bear IstAnpD, WAVE-WASHED AND THEN UPLIFTED ‘ . 130 Ratsep GRAVEL Breacnu at West Bay, Souta SIDE OF ENTRANCE TO HAMILTON INLET : : : : . 135 HALF-TIDE VIEW OF THE SHORE AT Forp Harsour . . 185 RAIsED BEACH, OVERLOOKING EmiILy HARBouR, SLoop IsLAND 1388 RAPIDS IN THE HAMILTON RIVER . : . ‘ 5 . 149 Two ViEws or Bowporn Canyon . - a - 4 ga TAKING IT Easy . ; ; ‘ “ ‘ ‘ “ . - 163 Eskimo In Kayaks AT HEBRON : ; : . : - 170 Court oF ASSIZE ON THE “STRATHCONA” , : “ . 174 Eskimo HunTER . : ‘ ‘ : . ; ; ‘: ein DOD XXV1 FULL—PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS FACING PAGE THE PRAYER-LEADER AT THE RAGGED ISLANDS 2 ‘ : EskIMO AND NASCAUPEE INDIANS, Hupson Bay . ‘ : Davis INLET MoNnTAGNAIs. ‘ : 5 ‘ ‘ INDIANS WATCHING THE CARIBOU AT A CROSSING . A NASCAUPEE INDIANS AT Davis INLET . - 5 5 5 BLUBBER YARD AT HEBRON . : A 5 ‘ 5 ‘ Tue S. S. “Harmony” at RAMAH. 4 “ ‘ 5 : OKKAK . . A : : 2 . A 5 ‘ 2 : West Coast Eskimo . : s ‘ 4 : ‘ : 4 A FISHING FLEET WELCOMING THE Mission Boat’s ARRIVAL St. ANTHONY HospPITAL . ; ‘ , ‘ ‘ 4 ‘ INTERIOR OF St. ANTHONY HOSPITAL . ‘ - : é BATTLE HARBOUR — THE HOSPITAL ON THE LEFT. $ : A VISITOR FROM THE NORTH . 5 : : 4 3 : Mission S. S. “STRATHCONA” . 3 i F A 4 WHERE THE REINDEER GRAZE . 5 A 5 = : : A DEER-TEAM : ; i ; ‘ : : 3 : THe HERD IN SUMMER é 3 . 5 5 2 . . AFTER A Lone HAuvL. i. ‘ ‘ - a ° ° ° WHOLE-BRED Eskimo Docs , 5 : 3 s 4 . THe MAINSTAY OF THE TEAM . * . 5 4 ° 5 On THE Marca . A : : ‘ = 4 C : . WAITING FoR THEIR MASTER . $ $ ine ee : F THE SEA oF IcE. , 3 : : 3 5 . : 6 NEWFOUNDLAND SCHOONERS WORKING NORTH 5 ° = A BAtTcH OF PRISONERS . ‘ : ‘ e ° FISHING CREWS CATCHING BAIT ‘ 5 : 4 . : Tue Fisuinc FLEET . ; é . : - : é 4 Kine “ ATTANEK” AND His FRIENDS, EATING WALRUS HEAD CATCHING SEALS NEAR HEBRON r 4 4 : : Fuizs AND BUTTERFLIES . ‘ 5 : é : - ; BUTTERFLIES AND MorTHs . ‘: a cen ' ° : ° 190 195 195 206 206 2a 222 220 231 234 238 238 243 243 246 254 259 263 266 270 277 284 284 289 289 296 304 826 353 368 458 464 LABRADOR THE COUNTRY AND THE PEOPLE U Leperey Ss: wen ewell p Leaf | D Me — Mm , ‘ Methy Lak |” Y 1 \ ’ ff o iw ye *\ \ % ° a Mi JAMES} Loars % Ba Vv uDys ‘ 6 ny vy 66> vw. ; y ce Ld) HUDSON BR AT LEGEND Cambro-Silurian - ‘| Cambrian ] Huronian | Laurentian; meluding Fundamental Gneisses Sand Grenville Series. Sometimes with limestones Massive granite rocks Ey Anor thosites on strice Scale of Miles 50 100 150 ‘ ™ padi Howse\ 2 ys. ‘ — ‘ S ‘ iW, ee ; nuan + \ ae L a Bie aan R L, a Sicninaoen i+ Ae ps4 WILLIAMS FNGRAVING CO., N.Y. LABRADOR CHAPTER I HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION ? By W. 8S. WALLACE LABRADOR has not much history. So far as we know, it was first seen by Huropean eyes in 986. From that time until about 1700 it almost enjoyed the happiness of the country which has no history. There is nothing to record but the voyages of navigators who came and saw the land, and sailed away. Labrador, said Jacques Cartier, was “the land God gave to Cain’; there was ‘‘not one cart- load of earth on the whole of it.” No one came to live on the coast until about 1700. But if the history of Lab- rador is deficient in quantity, it is marked by an infinite variety. Across the stage there pass in succession the savage bands of the Eskimos, an earlier race than ours; the storm-driven “dragons” of the Vikings; the early navigators, Venetian, Portuguese, English; whalers and fishermen from the Basque Provinces, from France, from the west of England; French-Canadian seigneurs and concessionaires along the Céte du Nord; English settlers after 1763 above the Strait of Belle Isle (among them 11 wish to express my indebtedness to Mr. W. L. Grant, Beit Lec- turer in Colonial History in the University of Oxford, and Mr. H. P. Biggar, representative in Europe of the Dominion Archives, for assist- ance kindly rendered in the preparation of this chapter.— W. 8S. W. B 1 2 LABRADOR the strange figure of an English staff-officer;) American privateers in 1778, French warships in 1796; the Hud- son’s Bay Company; Acadian refugees from the Magdalen Islands; and the devoted figures of the Moravian mis- sionaries. The dramatis persone are numerous, but the — play has little plot or sequence; it is more a pageant than a drama. The story begins in the year 986 in Iceland. Bjarni Herjulfson in that year, after a long absence on the high seas, came home to drink the Yuletide ale with his father. Finding that his father had gone with Eric the Red to Greenland, to found there that colony of which the ruins still stand upon the bleak and desolate coast, Bjarni weighed anchor and started off to Greenland after him. On the way he encountered foggy weather, and sailed on for many days without seeing sun or stars. When at length he sighted land, he was in waters of which he had never heard. “ He was the first who ever burst Into that silent sea.” The land was not the coast of fiords and glaciers for which he was looking; it was a shore without mountains, show- ing only small heights covered with dense woods. Bjarni put about and sailed to the north. The sky was now fair, and after sailing for five or six days he saw land again on the larboard, “but that land was high, mountainous, and covered with glaciers.” Then the wind rose, and they sailed four days to Herjulfsness. There is no doubt that the high, mountainous land, covered with glaciers, was the. coast of Labrador. i Nothing came of Bjarni Herjulfson’s adventure till fe INTRODUCTION 3 year 1000, the annus mirabilis of medizeval history, when Leif, the wise and stately son of Eric the Red, ‘‘made up his mind to go and see what the coasts to the south of Greenland were like.’’ He sailed from Brattahlid with a crew of thirty-five men. “First they found the land which Bjarni had found last. Then sailed they to the land and east anchor, and put off a boat and went ashore, and saw there was no grass. Mickle glaciers were over all the higher parts: but it was like a plain of rock from the glaciers to the sea, and it seemed to them that the land was good for nothing.’ Leif gave the place the name of Helluland (flat stone land). He then sailed on to countries which he names Markland and Vinland. The location of these places has been a subject of the warmest contro- versy. Helluland, however, it is perhaps safe to say, was either Labrador or the northern coast of Newfoundland. This is not the place to describe the expeditions of the Northmen to Vinland, which took place after the return of Leif Ericson. At first there were several attempts to found a colony, but the hostility of the Indians and the jealousies of the settlers brought them to naught. In 1121 Eric Gnupsson, who was appointed by Paschal II “bishop of Greenland and Vinland in partibus infideliwm,”’ went in search of Vinland; it is so recorded in at least six vellums. His is the last Viking expedition of which we have authentic information. But it is extremely probable that there were voyages of which we have no record. To these daring sea-farers the sea had no terrors; in their beautiful open ships, which were probably stronger and certainly swifter than the Spanish vessels of the time of Columbus, they were accustomed to traverse long stretches 4 LABRADOR — of open sea without compass or astrolabe. They went everywhere.' In 1824 there were found on an island in Baffin Bay, in a region supposed to have been unvisited by man before the modern age of Arctic exploration, a stone inscription: “Erling Sighvatson and Bjarni Thor- harson and EKindrid Oddson raised these marks and cleared ground on Saturday before Ascension week, 1135.” There is a strong probability that the Northmen made voyages to the coast of America oftener than we imagine. ‘Timber was scarce in Greenland; what more likely than that they should have cut their timber on the shores of Newfound- land or in places like Hamilton Inlet on the Labrador coast, where there is still timber of the finest sort ? The voyages of the Northmen, however, were quite barren of results of either historical or geographical im- portance. The very tradition of Vinland seems to have died out in Europe. There are, indeed, accounts of voy- ages made to the coast of America in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries; but these are almost wholly, if not entirely, mythical. Antonio Zeno, a Venetian gentle- man, writing to his brother Carlo about 1400, tells of some fishermen who had been blown out to sea twenty-six years before, and had been thrown up on a strange coast, where they were well received by the people. The land was an island with a high mountain whence flowed four rivers. There was a populous city surrounded by walls; and the king had Latin books in his library which nobody could read. All kinds of metals abounded, and especially 1 A stone bearing a Runic inscription and the date 1362, has been found in the heart of North America, at Kensington, Minnesota; but very strong doubts have been cast on its genuineness. INTRODUCTION 5 pold. The name of the country was Hstotiland. Some scholars have attempted to find grains of truth in this fisherman’s yarn; Estotiland has been identified as New- foundland, and the populous city with walls about it has been explained as an Indian encampment surrounded by a palisade. But it is better to reject the story altogether; there is, indeed, strong evidence that the whole of the Zeno narrative is a forgery. Another supposed pre- Columbian voyage to America is that of the Polish pilot, John Szkolny, who is said to have sailed in 1476 to Green- land, in the service of Christian I of Denmark, and to have touched upon the coast of Labrador. This also has been shown to be a myth; no such voyage was ever made. It was the opinion of the late Mr. John Fiske that there were more voyages to America before 1492 than we have been wont to suspect. There has been, he pointed out, a great deal of blowing and drifting done at all times and on all seas. ‘‘Japanese Junks have been driven ashore on the coasts of Oregon and California; and in 1500 Pedro Alvarez de Cabral, sailing down the coast of Africa, found himself on the shores of Brazil.” He argued that occasional visitors such as these “may have come and did come before 1492 from the Old World to the New.” It is a pleasing fancy. Unfortunately, the voice of authentic his- tory is silent and cannot be made to speak. The true discoverer of Labrador, for practical purposes, was John Cabot. Cabot was a Genoese by birth (and so a compatriot of Christopher Columbus), but in 1476 he be- came a naturalized citizen of Venice. In his earlier days he had traded as far east as La Tana, Alexandria, and even Mecca. There he had seen the spice caravans from 6 LABRADOR China. They seem to have set him thinking. Like other men of his day, he had “studied the sphere,” as the saying went; and he seems to have conceived the idea, inde- pendently of Columbus, of reaching the country where the spices grew by sailing westward. In quest of merchants who would furnish him forth he went to the west of Eng- land. There he found, in the matter of the new route, affairs much farther advanced than he could have sup- posed. In 1480 two ships had sailed from Bristol to discover the fabulous islands of Brazil and the Seven Cities which were supposed to lie between Ireland and the east coast of Asia. The expedition was fruitless, but it shows that the project of the westward route was already in the air. From Bristol Cabot made a long series of attempts to reach the islands which the ships that sailed in 1480 had failed to find. He believed they would prove stepping- stones to the coast of Asia. Year after year expeditions went out under his direction; autumn after autumn they returned to Bristol empty-handed. Cabot’s patrons were already beginning to withdraw their support, when in the summer of 1493 news came to England that Christopher Columbus, with three Spanish ships, had reached the islands of Asia. Cabot renewed his efforts, and on May 2, 1497, he sailed under royal patent on the voyage which brought him out on the shores of North America. The voyages of the Cabots have been a storm-centre of 1'The reason why Columbus succeeded where Cabot failed, is that Columbus crossed the Atlantic in a region where the trade-winds blow steadily from the east; whereas the tract of ocean from Ireland to America is one of the most unquiet in the world, and a vessel on its westward course in those latitudes has to contend, not only with ad- verse winds and broken weather, but with frequent and dense fogs. INTRODUCTION i; controversy for many years. The question where John Cabot had his landfall in 1497 depends almost wholly on the interpretation of the old maps. The fact that these charts were drawn to magnetic meridians, and not like our maps to the true meridian, sometimes alters the lie of a coast or the direction of a course by over 45°. Apart from this, also, medizeval reckonings were often far astray. Chronometers had not yet been invented, and it was only on rare occasions that longitude could be reckoned with the least degree of accuracy. Determinations of latitude were fairly correct when made on dry land, but made from the deck of a vessel with the imperfect instruments of that period they were liable to be wrong. Consequently, it is very difficult to be sure of the course to which a med- ieval mariner held. It used to be thought that in 1497 John Cabot’s landfall was on Labrador. It is now cer- tain that wherever his landfall was, it was not there. Prob- ably it was on the shores of Cape Breton Island. It was on his second voyage, in 1498, that Cabot touched at Labrador. A Canadian scholar, Mr. H. P. Biggar, in his Voyages of the Cabots and Corte-Reals, has attempted a brilliant reconstruction of this voyage. He thinks that Cabot explored: first the coast of Greenland, and that then he sailed south along the coast of Labrador. He attempts even to identify the places which Cabot de- scribes; Hamilton Inlet, for instance, and the Strait of Belle Isle, which Cabot took to be a deep bay. Cabot seems to have done some bartering with the Indians, for the Corte-Reals three years later found the natives in possession of a broken gilded sword and a pair of ear-rings, both apparently of Venetian manufacture. 8 LABRADOR John Cabot probably regarded his expeditions as finan- cial failures. He had set sail expecting to bring back the wealth of Ormuz and of Ind; he had found only the rock-bound coasts of North America. He had not even been able to discover the passage to the country where the spices grew. King Henry VII and the merchants of Bristol withdrew from a‘venture that swallowed up so much capital and offered such small profits; and shortly afterwards John Cabot died. Others, however, were not long in following in his wake. In the summer of 1500 Gaspar Corte-Real, a Portuguese gentleman from the island of Terceira in the Azores, set sail from Lisbon for the coasts which Cabot had discovered. On his first voyage Corte-Real explored only the coast of Greenland. On his second, which was made the next year, he came out at Labrador in about 58° of north lati- tude. The coast here is 3000 feet high, and there is nothing to the north but a barren, precipitous shore of the same sort. Corte-Real therefore turned south, no doubt in hope of reaching in that direction the land of spices. As he followed the shore, he explored every bay and inlet. He examined Hamilton Inlet as far up as the Narrows, and he seems to have explored Hawke Bay and the Gilbert and Alexis rivers. The Strait of Belle Isle, however, he mis- took (as Cabot had done) for an ordinary inlet; it re- mained for others to discover its real nature. He named a number of bays and capes, but nearly all his names have been superseded. Some have died out, and some have been shifted by ignorant geographers down to the Newfoundland coast. Cape Freels (Cabo de Frey Luis) is an example of the latter class; originally it was a cape INTRODUCTION pH) on the Labrador, named possibly after the chaplain of Corte-Real’s ships. In one of the inlets of Labrador Corte-Real came upon a band of Nasquapee Indians, a tribe which still inhabits that neighbourhood. The African slave-trade, which was carried on principally from Lisbon, had taught the Portu- guese to look upon all natives as fair spoil; and the sailors kidnapped some sixty of the Indians, and stowed them away below hatches. Two of the three ships were sent back to Lisbon with the Indians on board; they arrived there in little more than a month, and their arrival created the greatest excitement. King Manoel was delighted. Not only did the Indians promise to prove excellent slaves, all the more valuable since the African negro had become so wary that his capture was a matter of difficulty, but the new country produced, also, timber in abundance, which could be brought to Portugal at the cost of a month’s voyage. This slave-hunting episode has been fixed on by some historians as affording the true explanation of the name Terra Labrador, or Terra del Laboratore. King Manoel had expressed the opinion that the new slaves would be “excellent for labour”; obviously ‘‘ Terra del Labora- tore’? meant ‘labourers’ coast,” or, as we might say, “‘slave coast.’”’ Unfortunately, there are difficulties about this ingenious theory. In the first place, the words del Lab- oratore are in the singular; in the second place, the Por- tuguese word Ulavrador does not mean a labourer, but something like a yeoman farmer; and in the third place, the original Labrador was not what we know now as Lab- rador — it was Greenland. In nearly all the maps of the 10 LABRADOR first half of the sixteenth century Greenland is Labrador. it was only owing to the fact that the early geographers thought that Davis Strait was a gulf, and that the main- land continued all the way, that the name got shifted down to the northeast coast of North America. For many years what is now known as Labrador was merely desig- nated “ Terra Corterialis.”’ The real explanation is to be found in the Wolfenbittel map of 1534, which bears along the coast of Greenland the legend: “Country of Labrador, which was discovered by the English of the port of Bristol, and because he who first gave notice of seeing it was a farmer (llavrador) from the Azores, this name became attached to it.” We have even a suspicion as to who this llavrador was. He was probably one Joao Fernandes, who accompanied Cabot on his second voyage, who was born on the same island of the Azores as Gaspar Corte-Real, and who was probably instrumental in 1500 in persuading Corte-Real to make his first expedition. In 1499 he himself obtained letters patent from King Manoel, but he does not seem to have used them. On his third voyage, in 1502, Gaspar Corte-Real was lost. His brother Miguel went in search of him, and he too disappeared. No trace of the two brothers has ever been found. - They may have gone down in the broad Atlantic, or they may have been lured to their fate by the unforgetting Indians. They pass from history. For the next fifty years the exploration of Labrador was at a standstill. So far as the contour of the coast is concerned, the map of Salvat de Pilestrina (1503) is nearer the truth than any map up to Mercator’s great chart of INTRODUCTION 11 1569. The first official explorer to reach Labrador after Corte-Real was John Rut. Rut was an officer of the incipient Royal Navy of Henry VIII; in 1527 he set out to discover the regions of the Great Khan by going “far- ther to the west.’”’ One of his two ships was wrecked near the Strait of Belle Isle, where he encountered ‘‘ many ereat islands of ice,” and had to turn back. In 1534 Jacques Cartier explored the coast inside the Strait of Belle Isle. It has been said that he discovered the Strait of Belle Isle, but it is certain that the Strait was well known before 1534. It was called “le destroict de la baye des Chasteaux” (the strait off Chateau Bay). Car- tier’s comment on the coast has already been quoted. He also said, however, that ‘‘if the land were as good as the harbours, it would be a good country.”’ The results of later voyages may be briefly summarized. In 1577 Martin Frobisher sailed along the coast of northern Labrador. ‘“Foure days coasting along this land,’’ he says, “we found no sign of habitation.” “All along this coast yce lieth, as a continuall bulwarke, and so defendeth the country, that those that would land there, incur great danger.” In 1586 Davis spent a month on the Labrador coast, searching for a northwest passage. Besides the openings already known, Cumberland Strait, Frobisher’s Strait, and Hudson’s Strait, Davis rediscovered Davis Inlet in 56° and Hamilton Inlet in 54° 30’. It is to him that we owe the most exact knowledge of the coast until modern times. In 1606 John Knight arrived on the Lab- rador coast in latitude 56° 25’. He and his men were attacked by the Eskimos, and only with great diffi- culty were able to beat them off. Eight years later a 12 LABRADOR Captain Gibbons was ice-bound for twenty weeks in “a Bay called by his company Gibbons his Hole”; it is supposed to have been what is now Nain Bay. In 1610 Henry Hudson passed through Hudson’s Straits to Hud- son's Bay, and so demonstrated the true nature of the Labrador peninsula. In the seventeenth century the French Canadians began to explore the Labrador coast. In 1657 Jean Bourdon of Quebec tried to reach Hudson’s Bay by sea. He sailed up the Atlantic seaboard until he reached 55° north lati- tude; there he was compelled to turn back on account of the icebergs. Twenty-five years later Jolliet, the discov- erer of the Mississippi, also sailed on a voyage of exploration up the Labrador coast. The chart which he made of Hudson’s Bay and Labrador is still preserved in the Archives of the Marine at Paris. It is, however, only within recent times that anything like an exact cartographical knowledge of the coast of Labrador has been arrived at. This has been due, on the one hand, to the British admiralty surveys, the first of which was carried out by the great Captain Cook, and on the other hand to the excellent charts.of the Moravian missionaries. The interior of Labrador is still to a large extent unexplored. The great industry of the coast has always been its fisheries. In the middle ages fish played a much more important part in the economic life of Europe than it does to-day. The number of fast days in the year, and the way in which they were observed all over Europe, made fish one of the great staples of existence. Until the sixteenth INTRODUCTION 13 century Iceland was the scene of the most extensive fisheries. In 1497, however, John Cabot came back from “the new-found isle” with glowing accounts of the cod- fish which abounded there. Sebastian Cabot, who had a vivid imagination, vowed that the shoals of codfish were so numerous “they sumtymes stayed his shippes.’”’ En- terprising fishermen almost immediately set out for the new fishinge-grounds. They appear in the records for the first time in 1504, the year after the last voyage of the Corte-Reals. At first they seem to have come mainly from Breton and Norman ports. When Queen Joanna of Spain, in 1511, wanted pilots for the Bacallaos (New- foundland), she went to Brittany for them. And in 1534, when Jacques Cartier was passing through the Strait of Belle Isle, he met a fishing vessel from La Rochelle looking for the harbour of ‘‘ Brest.’”” This was a harbour near the mouth of the Eskimo River, which had obviously been named by Breton fishermen; it was already, apparently, a rendezvous. Contemporaneously with the French fishermen, came the Basque whalers from the Bay of Biscay. The asser- tion has even been made that, in their whaling voyages in the north Atlantic, the Basques discovered and fished at Labrador as early as 1470; but this story may be safely discounted. What is certain is that from 1525 to about 1700 they frequented the Strait of Belle Isle and the Gulf of St. Lawrence in considerable numbers. As they soon discovered, the whales followed down the cold Labrador current and passed through the Strait into the Gulf in great abundance. Portuguese fishermen followed in the track of the Corte- 14 LABRADOR Reals; and the voyage of Estevan Gomez conducted the Spaniards also to the northwest fisheries. What is now Bradore Bay was long known as Baie des Espagnols; and in 1704 there were still to be seen there the ruins of a Span- ish fishing establishment. The English were slower in recognizing the value of the new fisheries than the French or Spanish. They did not realize at first that Cabot had opened to them a source of revenue more valuable than the fabled wealth of Cathay. But gradually they too awoke to the possibilities of the new fisheries. They threw themselves into competition with the French, and appropriated to themselves a large part of the fishing-grounds. The French were driven back to the west coast of Newfoundland, along what is known as “the French shore.’ A study of the names on the map of Newfoundland will show the limit of their fishing opera- tions; from Bonne Esperance to Cape Charles, the names are almost wholly French. It was not until about 1763 that the English entered upon the Labrador fisheries at all. A part of the history of Labrador which still remains to be worked up is the story of the French Canadian settlements along the so-called Quebec Labrador. No full account of these settlements has yet been published; the facts lie buried in the archives at Paris and Ottawa. Most of what has found its way into print has been of the most unreliable and mythical character. Nothing more instructive could be found, for instance, of the way in which history is sometimes manufactured than the legend of the town of Brest. In 1608 there was published in Lyons, France, a little book, the only surviving copy of which is INTRODUCTION 15 in the Lenox Library, New York.. It was entitled Copy of a Letter sent from New France, or Canada, by the Sieur de Combes, a Gentleman of Povrtou, to a Friend, in which are described briefly the Marvels, Excellence and Wealth of the Country, together with the Appearance and Manners of the Inhabitants, the Glory of the French, and the Hope there ws of Christianizing America. This letter gives the follow- ing account of Brest :— “We desired first to go and see the Sieur de Dongeon, who is governor, and resides ordinarily at Brest, the prin- cipal town of the whole country, well provisioned, large and strongly fortified, peopled by about fifty thousand men, and furnished with all that 1s necessary to enrich a good-sized town.” When it is remembered that this letter was written in _ the year in which Champlain founded Quebec, it will be seen immediately that it is a fairy tale of the wildest sort. Brest was never anything at this time but a convenient harbour for fishermen; and the Sieur de Combes and the Sieur de Dongeon are probably people who never ex- isted. Somebody, however, must have taken the account au grand sérieux; for in 1638 the following account of Labrador appeared in Lewes Roberts’ Merchants’ Map of Commerce printed at London: — “The seventh is Terra Corterialis; on the South whereof runs that famous river of Caneda, rising out of the hill Hombuedo, running nine hundred miles, and found navi- gable for eight hundred thereof. ... The chiefe Towne thereof is Brest, Cabomarso, and others of little note.”’ Cabomarso is obviously a cape named by the Portu- 16 LABRADOR guese; but Brest is the “principal town” of the Sieur de Combes. The finishing touches were put on the myth by a Mr. Samuel Robertson, who lived on the Labrador coast in the first half of the nineteenth century. In a paper read before the Geographical and Historical Society of Quebec in 1843, he gave a graphic picture of Brest in its palmy days. “I estimate,” he said, “that at one time it contained two hundred houses, besides stores, etc., and perhaps 1000. inhabitants in the winter, which would be trebled during the summer. Brest was at the height of its prosperity about the year 1600, and about thirty years later the whole tribe of the Eskimos were totally extir- pated or expelled from that region. After this the town began to decay, and towards the close of the century the name was changed to Bradore.’’ In 1630, he goes on to relate, a grant en sergneurie of four leagues of the coast embracing the town was made to the Count de Courte- manche, who was married to a daughter of King Henry IV of France. Et voila justement comme on écrit Vhistoire. The whole story is a myth and a fairy tale. There was, it is true, a De Courtemanche on the Labrador coast from 1704-1716, but he was not a count, nor did he hold any land en sevg- neurve, and he was married to the daughter of a tanner named Charest at Lévis. Moreover, we have De Courte- manche’s account of the coast when he came there in 1704. He does not mention the town of Brest; apparently he had never heard of it. But in the harbour he found an establishment of Frenchmen and a blockhouse, about half a league from the mouth of the Eskimo River. This was Just a century after the time when “Brest was at INTRODUCTION 17 the height of its prosperity.”” It is indeed probable that Mr. Robertson did not know where Brest was; he confuses it with Bradore Bay, which is eight or ten leagues farther along the coast. And yet the story has died hard; it is to be found in some of the latest books, in Professor Pack- ard’s Labrador Coast (1891), and in Judge Prowse’s His- tory of Newfoundland (1896). The exploitation of Labrador by the French Canadians really began in 1661. In that year the Compagnie des Indes granted to Francois Bissot the Isle aux C&ufs en seigneurie, together with fishing rights over nearly the whole of the Quebec Labrador, from the Seven Isles to Bradore Bay. This was what was known afterwards as the Seig- neurve of Mingan. Francois Bissot was a Norman immi- grant who had come out to Canada some time between 1641-1647. He was a man of enterprise and ideas. He was the first Canadian to enter upon the tanning of leather, an industry which is to-day perhaps the most important in Quebec. He was also one of the very first Canadians who attempted to establish sedentary fisheries in the Gulf. At the Isle aux CHufs, and later at Mingan on the mainland, he founded posts at which he carried on fishing, sealing, and trading with great success. Between his farm and his tannery at Lévis and his fishing-posts on the Labrador it was not long before he made his fortune. He was him- self of bourgeois extraction; but he married his daughters to members of the colony’s ruling class. The noblesse and the bourgeoisie joined hands. One of Bissot’s daughters married Louis Jolliet, the discoverer of the Mississippi. His marriage into the Bissot family drew Jolliet’s energies eastward. His exploration Cc 18 LABRADOR of the coasts of Labrador has already been referred to. As a reward for his discoveries he was granted the island of Anticosti, a barren fief, of which he was the first seigneur. ~ When Bissot died, Jolliet was one of his heirs. He became engaged in a dispute with the other heirs which was the precursor of a long line of disputes about the Bissot sezg- neurve, litigation over which was only ended in 1892 by the decision of the Judicial Committee of the Privy Council in the case of the Labrador Company vs. the Queen. Jol- liet’s last years were tragic. He endured great losses from the English invasion of 1690, and afterwards was actually suffering from poverty. He died about 1700, neglected and forgotten, on some island of the Labrador coast. Jolliet’s example without doubt induced others to go and spy out the land of Labrador. It was about 1702 that De Courtemanche obtained his concession near the Strait of Belle Isle. Augustin Legardeur, Sieur de Courtemanche, was a lieutenant in the troops of the marine. He spent the early years of his life in the west in the Indian wars, and. acquired there a reputation as a leader. In 1697, however, he married the widow of Pierre Gratien Martel de Brouague; she was the granddaughter of old Francois Bissot, and family ties drew De Courtemanche, as they had drawn Jolliet, to the east of Canada. It has been usual to describe De Courtemanche’s concession as a seigneurie; but such language is inaccurate. It was merely a grant of fishing and trading rights for a number of years. The policy of the government was evidently to leave its hands free for the future with regard to the Labrador coast. The only true seigneurte east. of the Mingan Islands was “the fief. INTRODUCTION 19 St. Paul in the country of the Eskimos”; and about this seigneurie not much is known. It was granted in 1706 to Amador Godefroy de St. Paul. In 1725 Godefroy de St. Paul sent one of his wife’s relatives to render fo et hom- mage for him at the castle of St. Louis in Quebec. But after Godefroy’s death it is probable that the family ceased to occupy the fief ; certainly the fief never arrived at any degree of importance.’ During the years 1700-1760 it rained concessions on the Céte du Nord. Grants of fishing and trading rights were made to the Sieurs Riverin, De la Chesnaye, Constan- tin, De la Valtrie (who had married a daughter of Fran- cois Bissot), De Leigne, Boucault and Foucault, De la Fontaine, De Lanouilles, Marsal, Hocquart, Taché, Pom- mereau, Vincent, De Beaujeu, and Estébe, as well as to Mme. de Boishébert and the widow Férnel.? Hamilton Inlet (Baie des Esquimaux) was granted at different times to traders and merchants, on condition of its being ex- plored; but none of the grantees seem to have complied with the condition. It is noteworthy, however, that in 1779 Major Cartwright reports the discovery near Hamil- ton Inlet of “the ruins of three French settlements.”’ And we know from Jeffrey’s Northwest Passage that in 1752 the French traded with the Eskimos at Ham- ilton Inlet for whalebone and oil. Perhaps the French Canadians went north of the Strait of Belle Isle oftener than we hear about. Inside the Strait, however, there is no question about 1T have to acknowledge here the kind assistance of Professor W. B. Munro, of Harvard University. * This list does not pretend to be perfect. 20 LABRADOR the number of fishing-posts which existed. Not only were there cod fisheries and seal fisheries, there were even salmon and porpoise fisheries. The seal fishery was espe- cially important. It supplied the oil which was used for giving light in Canada and for dressing hides in Europe. In 1744, we learn from an old table of products, several thousand barrels of oil were exported from Labrador to France. In the industrial life of New France Labrador played a much larger part than has been _ usually realized. The Jesuits did not reach Labrador. In 1730 Father Pierre Laure, serving at Chekoutimi on the Saguenay, wrote to his superior: “I think it would be a good thing if your Reverence would permit me to go to Labrador, where I know that great results can be obtained.” But his petition was not granted. The only priest, so far as we know, who worked on the Labrador coast, was the Abbé Martin, who petitioned in 1727 to be allowed to set up a seal fishery there. The memorandum of the Govy- ernor and Intendant on the subject throws lght on the conditions of the coast in 1727; they write: — “We cannot answer immediately in the matter of the Sieur Martin’s request to set up an establishment of the Labrador. _ “This region scarcely seems suitable for a man of his cloth, there being only rocks in this place. The dissipa- tion which a trading-post brings about scarcely suits a missionary. “These proposals show good intentions. We believe there is nothing behind them. But the matters which he proposes are too delicate not to require time for considera- tion.” INTRODUCTION 21 Whether the Abbé Martin’s request was granted, we do not know. He is to us merely a nominis umbra. We know nothing more about him than that he was ‘serving on the Labrador.” Order was kept on the coast by the Sieur de Courte- manche, who bore the official title of commandant. At Baie des Phélypeaux (now Bradore Bay) he had a fort called Fort Ponchartrain. He exercised magisterial pow- ers, and sent in an annual report to the president of the Navy Board at Paris. His chief difficulty was with the Eskimos, who persisted in destroying the boats and stages of the fishermen, and in murdering an occasional white man. De Courtemanche’s conciliatory policy toward the natives is deserving of notice, especially as it stands in sharp contrast with the treatment of the Indians by the English across the Strait in Newfoundland. There it was considered good sport to shoot an Indian like a deer. This is not the only case in which the French proved themselves superior to the English in their rela- tions with the natives. De Courtemanche died in 1716, and his place as com- mandant of the coast was taken by his step-son, Francois Martel de Brouague. De Brouague held the post until the conquest, though in 1759 he was so old and worn out that the minister proposed to replace him by another. He too had difficulty with the Eskimos, and he seems not to have been so successful as his step-father in his measures. He was, however, a person of importance in New France; he married in 1732 Louise-Madeleine Mari- auchau-d’Esglis, sister of the eighth bishop of Quebec, and his daughter was that beauty of whom Garneau tells, De, LABRADOR who, when presented at the French court, filled with admi: ration the young king, Louis XVI. The conquest of Canada in 1763 by the English worked a revolution on the Labrador coast. Shortly after the con- quest many of the French-Canadian gentry went back to France; we know, for instance, that in 1767 Captain Croizille de Courtemanche, half-brother of M. de Brouague, went back. At the same time there flocked into the coun- try a number of English and Scotch adventurers — “four hundred and fifty contemptible sutlers and traders,” as Gov- ernor Murray called them. Some of these men bought up the concessions along the Labrador coast which the French Canadians were leaving. Between 1759 and 1808 they acquired nearly the whole coast from the Mingan Islands to Bradore Bay, and formed what was known as the Lab- rador Company, the leading spirit in which was Mathew Lymburner, the Quebec merchant who spoke so ably at the bar of the House of Commons in Westminster against the Constitutional Act of 1791. From 1763 also dates the first authentic account of a settled English fishery between the Strait of Belle Isle and Hamilton Inlet. Under the French régime Canada had included all Labrador; but by the proclamation of 1763 its eastern boundary became the River St. John. Labrador and Anticosti were annexed to Newfoundland. Adventurers immediately began to establish themselves in the new territory. Captain Nicholas Darby, of Bristol, set up near Cape Charles, and the firm of Noble and Pinson, Jong well known on the coast, began to do business at Temple Bay. INTRODUCTION — De) This, however, was not at all the object which the Eng- lish government had wished to accomplish. It had been their intention to put the Labrador fishery under the same regulations as the Newfoundland fishery. It was to be preserved as an “open and free fishery” for the Dorset and Devon fishing fleets, and was to be governed by fishing admiral rules. The establishment of sedentary fisheries immediately caused trouble. It was the old story, so familiar in the case of Newfoundland itself, of a struggle between the settlers on the shore, who claimed the right of exclusive fishing, and the fishermen who came over the Atlantic from English ports, and who wanted the fisheries and landing-places reserved for themselves. Sir Hugh Palliser, the governor of Newfoundland, strove energetically to carry out the new regulations. He applied to the home government for naval reénforcements, “for the purpose of enforcing the fishery laws and preserving peace and some degree of order amongst the fisheries, especially amongst the mixed multitudes now resorting to the new northern banks about the Strait of Belle Isle, composed of about 5000 of the very scum of the most disorderly people from the different colonies.” He built a blockhouse in Chateau Bay, and garrisoned it with an officer and twenty men. But his measures were in vain. He had to encounter, not only the opposition of the few English and French-Canadian settlers on the coast, the latter armed with their title-deeds acquired under the French governors, but also the hostility of the Canadian and New England fishermen, who were excluded from the fisheries. The feeling among the New England fishermen was especially strong; their exclusion from the Labrador 24 LABRADOR fisheries was one of the lesser causes which helped to bring about the American war, and it explains some episodes in the naval history of the war. In 1774 Labrador was given back to Canada. It was not until 1809 that it was finally reannexed to Newfoundland. A trader who came to Labrador in 1770 was Major George Cartwright. He had been aide-de-camp to the Marquis of Granby in the Seven Years’ War; but failing to obtain promotion, he resigned his commission, and went into business on the coast of Labrador. He has left us his journals, in three large folio volumes. The great ma- jority of the entries are trivial. ‘I went out a-shooting,” he says on September 29, 1772, ‘but saw nothing.” Yet the diary as a whole gives a vivid and minute account of the life at a post on the Labrador in 1770. The drunken- ness, the brutality, the license, are all depicted without reticence. Cartwright, who was a man of magnificent courage, treated the Irishmen and Indians under him like slaves. “‘I gave MacCarthy,”’ he says, “twenty-seven lashes with a small dog-whip on his bare back, and in- tended to have made up the number thirty-nine; but as he then fainted, I stopped and released him; when he thanked me on his knees for my lenity.” ‘I broke the stock of my Hanoverian rifle,” he says at another time, “ by striking a dog with it.” So far as women were concerned, Cartwright’s principles were frankly immoral. Yet he was religious after the fashion of his day. On Easter Sunday, he says, “‘I read prayers to my family both in the forenoon and afternoon.” And after a providential es- cape from danger he writes: ‘We could attribute all these things to nothing but the effect of the immediate interpo- INTRODUCTION Da sition of the DIVINITY, who had been graciously pleased to hear our prayers, and grant our petitions; and I hope I shall never be of a contrary way of thinking.” He was a man of strict honour; and when he failed in business, he refused to go into bankruptcy, and preferred to carry the burden of his debt in the hope of paying it off. He had several trading-posts at intervals along the coast from Cape Charles to Sandwich Bay. Under him he seems to have had at times as many as seventy-five or eighty men, mostly Irishmen of the lowest. description. He did not limit himself to sealing, and fishing for cod and salmon, but he tried by all means possible to cultivate trade with the Indians and Eskimos. Huis policy in this regard is one of the most laudable things about him. Three years before his arrival on the coast the Eskimos, with whom murder was a pastime, killed three of Captain Darby’s men at Charles River. The relations between the English and the Eskimos after this threatened to degenerate into the guerilla warfare which ended in New- foundland in the extinction of the Beothuks. Cartwright saw that this policy was a wrong one, and by his firm and kindly attitude toward the Eskimos he gradually gained their confidence. ‘Twice he took Eskimos back with him to England, and tried to train them up as go-betweens, but they almost all died from the smallpox. Their death was to Cartwright one of his greatest disappointments. Through ill luck his policy was not so successful as he hoped it would be, but it must be said that he was work- ing along the right lines. Cartwright was not a good business man, and his adven- ture was not a success. He suffered from the hostility 26 LABRADOR of Noble and Pinson, ‘‘who have been my inveterate enemies ever since I came to the coast,” and his buildings were several times destroyed by fire. But the great calamity which overtook him was the visit of the American privateer Minerva in August, 1778. At one o’clock on the morning of August 27, he was alarmed by a loud rapping at his door; he opened it, and a body of armed men rushed in; they were, they said, from the Minerva privateer, of Boston, in New England, commanded by John Grimes. They made Cartwright their prisoner, and took possession of everything. At nine o’clock Cartwright was taken on board, and received by Captain Grimes, who was “the son of a superannuated boatswain of Ports- mouth.’ Cartwright was not favourably impressed by the first leutenant and the surgeon, whom he describes as “two of as great villains as any unhanged.’”’ He found that his possessions at Charles Harbour and Ranger Lodge had already been plundered. An expedition had been sent off to Caribou Castle to plunder there; and it was only by talking about a British frigate which he expected that he frightened them from sending to Paradise and White Bear River. They robbed him of everything except a small quantity of provisions and a chest of bag- gage, which Grimes returned (“but many things were pillaged out of it’). Cartwright lost also about one-half of his men. The Minerva was short-handed, and Grimes offered a share of the booty to any who would enter with him. Nearly thirty-five men, mostly Irish and Dutch, ac- cepted his offer. It is needless to say, none of them ever saw any prize-money; when they reached Boston, they were all thrown into prison, where they languished for several months. INTRODUCTION 27 Cartwright computed his losses at about £14,000. Fortunately, however, his brig, with all the salt and most of the other goods which the Americans had carried away in her, was retaken on her passage to Boston, and his losses proved not so great as he had imagined they would be. Others suffered more severely than he did. Noble and Pinson at Temple Bay lost three vessels and all their stores; and two merchants named Slade and Seydes lost a vessel each at Charles Harbour. The next year a small American privateer of four guns entered Battle Harbour, and captured a sloop there with about twenty-two tuns of seal oil on board. The stores on the shore, belonging to Slade of Twillingate, were destroyed. The result was that “everybody on this side of Trinity was in the utmost distress for provisions from the depredations of the priva- teers, as no vessels had arrived from England.” Cart- wright himself had to cut his men down to short rations during the winter. In 1786 Cartwright returned to England, and his diary closes. In the last entries are some interesting notes on the Strait of Belle Isle. At both Forteau Bay and Blanc Sablon Cartwright founded establishments of fishing com- panies from Jersey. Behind the Isle de Bois he saw several American whalers lying at anchor. “Not having had any success with whales, they were catching codfish. As they dare not carry their fish to the European markets, for fear of the Barbary rovers, they are sent up to their own back settlements, where they fetch good prices.” The journal ends with a poetical epistle to Labrador. Ten years after Cartwright left the coast Labrador was again the victim of a hostile visitation. In August, 1796, 28 LABRADOR Admiral Richery, one of the ablest of the admirals of the French republic, made a flying visit from Cadiz to the Banks of Newfoundland. After having wrought cruel havoc among the fishermen on the Banks, he despatched three of his ships, the Duquesne, the Censeur, and the Friponne, under Commodore Allemand, to visit the coast of Labrador. Allemand was delayed by wind and fog, and when he arrived at Chateau Bay, most of the fishing vessels had left for Europe. Several ships, however, still remained, among them part of the rich convoy of peltries returning from Hudson’s Bay. These Allemand captured. He then sent a summons to the commandant of Fort York, the blockhouse which Governor Palliser had built at Chateau Bay, demanding his surrender. When the com- mandant refused to surrender, Allemand opened fire on the fort, and soon silenced its fourteen guns. The English thereupon took to the woods, but not before they had set fire to all the buildings and stores at the post. The French landed, but found ‘‘nothing but ashes’; after a vain attempt to pursue the English garrison in the woods, they put to sea again, taking with them those prizes which they had not sunk or burned. They had done .as much damage as it was possible for them to do. The people of Labrador have small reason to love the warships of revolutionary states. In 1809 Labrador was given back to Newfoundland. The arrangement was once more, however, found to be unsatisfactory. The Céte du Nord was really a part of Lower Canada, and it did not fit in, either legally or socially, with the system of government in Newfoundland. The INTRODUCTION 29 result was that in 1825 that part of Labrador which is now known as the Quebec Labrador, stretching from the River St. John to Blane Sablon, was reannexed to Lower Canada. This is the arrangement which governs the present condition. Unfortunately, however, the boun- daries of Labrador have never been clearly defined. The jurisdiction of the governor of Newfoundland, as defined in the letters patent regularly issued up to 1876, includes “all the coast of Labrador, from the entrance of Hudson’s Straits to a line to be drawn due north and south from Anse Sablon [sic] on the said coast to the fifty-second degree of north latitude.’ The only conclusion which may be drawn from this document is that the advisers of the British crown, when they drew it up, were, as usual, not looking at the map. Anse Sablon is a place which does not exist, though Blanc Sablon does; and just where the entrance to Hudson’s Strait is, might well, as Sir John Haselrig said, be the subject for a month’s debate. It might be anywhere from Cape Chudleigh to Fort Chimo. The result of the ambiguity in the terms by which the boundary of Labrador is defined, has been a dispute be- tween Quebec and Newfoundland which is still pending. Canada has issued a map coloured red right to the Atlantic seaboard; and Newfoundland has retorted by colouring nearly the whole of the Labrador peninsula green. The question will probably be decided by the Judicial Com- mittee of the Privy Council. In 1811 an act of Parliament was passed authorizing the holding of surrogate courts in Labrador. Nothing was done to give effect to this act until 1827, when Sir Thomas Cochrane, the governor, issued a proclamation 30 LABRADOR setting up a court of civil jurisdiction. A sheriff was ap- pointed for the coast, and a vessel was chartered to take the judge on his circuit; but it was soon found that the undertaking was more expensive than advantageous. In 1833 the court was abolished. Meanwhile a change had been taking place in the fisheries. In 1818 a convention was made between the United States and Great Britain, by which the inhabitants of the United States gained, among other things, the right of taking fish of any kind “on the coasts, bays, harbours, and creeks ”’ of the Labrador. American fishermen took advantage of this convention in great numbers. In 1820 Captain Robinson, of H.M.S. Favourite, reported ‘530 sail of them this year.” The English fishermen began to suffer from their competition. Both the American and French fish- ermen received bounties from their governments: the first in the shape of a drawback on the salt used; and the sec- ond in the shape of premiums which were so regulated as to, make 20 franes per quintal the minimum price received. The American fisherman also fished “in his own vessel, built by himself, with timber grown on his own land, and with provisions supplied by his own farm.’ ‘There was ereat irritation against the government because of their admission of the Americans into what was considered the richest part of the fisheries. It was felt that England was being generous to the prodigal son at the expense of the son who stayed at home. Such a feeling has not died out in Newfoundland yet, as recent events have shown. Population has never increased by leaps and bounds on the Labrador coast. In 1841, however, Samuel Robertson said that on his part of the coast there were over two hun- INTRODUCTION ill dred and fifty settlers. In 1848 the bishop of Newfound- land visited Labrador. “No bishop or clergyman of our Church,” he said, “has ever been along this coast before, and yet the inhabitants are almost all professed members of our Church and of English descent.’ The good man found plenty of work to do. He consecrated several eraveyards. At one settlement ‘‘great numbers were married, and both here and elsewhere an offering [of four dollars] was very cheerfully paid.” At Battle Harbour fifty-seven children were admitted into the Church. The statement is made in some of the books that when the Acadians were driven from their homes in 1753, a number of them took refuge on the Labrador coast, and erected a fort at Chateau Bay. For this statement there is no authority whatever. The only invasion of the shores of Labrador by Acadians took place in the years 1857-1861. During these years a number of Acadians came from the Magdalen Islands, whither their ancestors had fled a cen- tury before. Some of them, braving the threats of seig- neurs, settled at Pointe Saint-Paul, not far from the ancient harbour of “ Brest,’’ and others squatted near Natishquan, ninety miles east of Mingan. In all, they numbered about eighty families. Their children still lve on the Céte du Nord, scarcely distinguishable from the French Canadians about them. Something must be said about the Hudson’s Bay Com- pany. - It is probable that until 1870 the Hudson’s Bay Company was at law the proprietor of a large part of the Labrador peninsula. Under their charter they claimed 32 LABRADOR “all rights to trade and commerce of those seas, etc., within the entrance of Hudson’s Strait, and all lands on the coasts and confines thereof.” Their claim to Labrador was submitted to the law officers of the British crown in 1752, and pronounced by them to be valid. It was not, however, till 1831 that the company began to exploit Labrador. In that year, having learned from a missionary report that the country about Ungava produced excellent furs, and being desirous also of ‘‘ameliorating the condi- tion of the natives,’ they founded Fort Chimo on Hudson’s Strait. A year or so later they established at the other end of Labrador Rigolet Post, near the head of Hamilton Inlet. It was the desire to establish communications between these two posts that led to the wonderful over- land journey of John M’Lean, the factor at Fort Chimo, in 1838, a journey which has not been repeated until within the last few years. M’Lean’s Notes of a Twenty-five Y ears’ Service in the Hudson’s Bay Territories is worth reading as an earlier version of the lure of the Labrador wild. In 1870 the great company surrendered all its rights in British North America to the Dominion of Canada, in return for a substantial quid pro quo. All that part of Labrador, therefore, which does not belong to Newfoundland, comes under the jurisdiction of the Dominion. There remains to be told the story of the Moravian missionaries. No more wonderful story of missionary effort has ever awaited the pen of the reporter; and yet the work of the Moravian Mission in Labrador has. been little known. It was in 1752 that the United Society of Brethren first attempted to found a mission there among INTRODUCTION oe the Eskimos. It ended in failure. The four mission- aries had erected a house, the frame and materials of which they had brought with them, when five or six members of the crew, among them the mate, who was a Brother, were treacherously murdered by the Eskimos. The mission- aries were obliged to return with the ship, in order to help man her, and they left their house standing on the bleak and desolate coast. It was seen next year (1753) by Captain Swaine, of Philadelphia, who was exploring the coast in the ship Argo. The attempt to found a mission was not renewed until 1764. In that year Jans Haven, a member of the Brotherhood who had been working among the Eskimos of Greenland, landed at St. John’s, Newfoundland. Sir Hugh Palliser, the new governor, was anxious to improve the relations between the white men and the Eskimos, and he did all in his power to further Haven’s aims. At last, at Quirpont, Haven met an Eskimo. “I ran to meet him,” he says. Great was the surprise of the Eskimo at being addressed in Greenlandic. The next year three other missionaries came out, one of them an old man whose race was nearly run. They selected the spot which they thought best for their mission, and then asked from the government a grant of 100,000 acres in connection with it. This demand fell on the ears of the government like a thunderbolt. It was excessive; it savoured even of ulterior designs. The missionaries explained that the vicious influence of the European traders and fishermen on the coast made it necessary that the natives should, as far as possible, be preserved from contamination. In 1769, after long delays, the grant was D 34. LABRADOR made. Two years later the Brethren began to build their mission house at Nain. ‘It was as if,” wrote one of them, “each with one of his hands wrought in the work and with the other held a weapon.” Before winter broke on them they had the house finished. In 1773 the British government sent out Lieutenant Curtis, R.N., as a commissioner to report on the progress of the mission. Some sentences from his report may be transcribed : — “They have chosen for their residence a place called by the Indians [Eskimos] Nonynoke, but to which they have given the name of Unity Bay. ... Their house is. called Nain. It is a good situation, and is well contrived. They have a few swivels mounted, although they have no occasion for them, as the Indians [Kskimos] are awed more by their amiable conduct than by arms. ‘There is a sawmill, which is worked by a small stream conducted thither by their industry from the mountains, and they find this engine to be extremely serviceable. ... They _ have a small sandy garden, and they raise salads in toler- able perfection. ... The natives love and respect them, because they have happily adopted and strictly adhere to that conduct which is endearing without being familiar. None of the Indians [Eskimos], a very few excepted, ever presume to come within the palisades without per- mission, nor is a bolt necessary to prevent their intrusion. The progress which the mission has made in civiliz- ing the Indians [Eskimos] is wonderful.” In 1775 the mission at Okkak was established; and in 1782 that at Hopedale. Everything, however, did not go smoothly at first. About 1787 a mysterious person named Makko, a French Canadian (says the historian of the mission), who combined the character of merchant and INTRODUCTION 315) Roman Catholic priest, succeeded in enticing a number of the Eskimos away from the Brethren. And Cartwright says in his Journal in 1783: “The Eskimos expressed a oreat dislike to the Moravians, and assured me they would not live near, or trade with, them more.” It was not until 1804, says one of the missionaries, that the fruits of the mission began to appear; but in that year, ‘‘a fire from the Lord was kindled among the Eskimos.” Since then mission stations have been established at Hebron, at Zoar, at Ramah, and at Makkovik. These names may be seen marked on any good map of northeastern America, ‘names of another clime and an alien race.” The Eskimos, said Cartwright, ‘have always been accounted the most savage race of people on the whole continent of America.” ‘They are,’ said Governor Palliser, “the most savage people in the world.” To- day it would be hard to find a more quiet, placid, and peaceable race. The change is due almost entirely to the United Brethren. They have converted a race of primeval savages, with whom murder was a passion and theft a craze, into mild and simple Christians. The great miracle has seldom been wrought on more unpromising materials and with more amazing success. For their part, the Eskimos are not unmindful of their friends and benefactors. ‘‘My dear Brethren and Sisters,” writes Simeon of Nain, “I am quite astonished at your love for us, and distressed that I am not able to make you any return. I have requested my teachers to trans- late my words into your words, that you may understand that I feel great gratitude toward you. I am Simeon.” “T greet the unknown friends in Europe,” writes Verona 36 LABRADOR from Hopedale, ‘‘as if I knew them, and write these un- worthy lines to them. In heaven I shall see them and get to know them, because we shall all be with the Lord, even those who have no money.” CHAPTER, TRAVELLED ROUTES TO LABRADOR By W. T. GRENFELL THE northeast coast of Labrador can be reached at pres- ent only vid Newfoundland. A passenger steamer runs from each side of the island to Labrador. They are stout boats, and are in the hands of such old experienced pilot captains that in spite of the badly charted coast, the ice- bergs, and the absence of most of the aids to navigation in the more beaten tracks, no danger beyond what is inci- dental to every sea trip need be anticipated. There has _ never yet been a life lost from accident on these mail boats visiting the Labrador coast. The tourist must choose whether he wishes to go by the west or east coast of Newfoundland. The east coast boat runs once a fortnight. She calls at many points along the east coast of Labrador as far as Nain, in lat. 56°, and also at several ports on the east coast of Newfoundland. The west coast boat makes weekly trips, starting from Bay of Islands. She touches at ports on the island, crosses the Strait, and visits the southern shore of Labrador, from Bonne Esperance to Battle Harbour, at the entrance to the Strait of Belle Isle. Here she connects with the east coast 37 38 LABRADOR boat, so that visitors can come by the one route and re- turn by the other if they choose. St. John’s is connected with Bay of Islands by direct railway communication.! The Reid-Newfoundland Company issue an illustrated ‘“‘Souvenir”’ of Newfoundland. This contains an excel- lent map of all the routes of their lines, and also takes in the whole coast of Newfoundland and the Labrador coast as far north as their steamer goes, 2.e. to Nain. As far as Chateau in the Strait of Belle Isle, the tourist is in telegraphic communication with the outside world and by the Marconi system as far north as Hamilton Inlet. | St. John’s is very easy of access and can be reached from either Liverpool or Glasgow by steamer. The pas- sage takes about eight days. St. John’s can also be reached by steamer from Halifax by the Furness line or Red Cross line; from New York direct by the Red Cross line; from Boston by Furness-Withy line; and direct from Montreal by the Black Diamond Steamship line. If, however, a shorter sea passage is desired, passengers can go vid Sydney, Cape Breton, whence a steamer connects with the trans-Newfoundland Railway at Port-aux-Basques, accomplishing the short sea journey in six or seven hours. The railway to St. John’s from Port-aux-Basques passes through Bay of Islands, the starting-point of the western boat to Labrador. It also traverses the beautiful valleys of the Humber and Cordroy rivers. As the east coast Labrador steamer makes about a hun- 1 The passenger agent at St. John’s for the Reid-Newfoundland Company will gladly give all information with regard to means of transit, etc. TRAVELLED ROUTES TO LABRADOR 39 dred calls on the round trip, the traveller can learn much without leaving her. But if he wishes really to see Lab- rador, he must be willing to give more time to it than the mere hurried round trip of the mail steamers can afford him. These steamers remain but a very short time at each place, and do not visit the long and almost unknown fiords which constitute one of the chief attractions of the coast. ‘To go where perhaps the foot of man has never trod, to wind in and out at leisure among the countless turns and twists of these inlets, never knowing what one is likely to meet with next, adds a great charm to a holiday and a freshness which long since has been lost by most summer resorts. The wildest, least known, and by far the erandest fiords are all north of Nain; in order to attain a true appreciation of scenic Labrador, one ought to begin where at present the average visitor is obliged to turn back with the mail steamer. Thus to enjoy the best that Labrador has to offer, and to study the remarkable features which among all the coasts near to civilization are peculiar to “the Labrador,” one must be able to linger at will in the long fiords, push up these still unnamed and almost unknown arms of the sea, and discover for oneself new coves and inlets as he coasts along them. In a few, but only a very few, of the northern bays and fiords one may occasionally find a solitary salmon fisherman. Generally the visitor may en- joy with Robinson Crusoe the joy of being monarch of all he surveys. Not a policeman, nor a warning “not to tres- pass’”’ will be encountered. No advertising fiend has yet succeeded in defacing these refreshing wilds. In Labrador there are no hotels in the ordinary meaning 40 LABRADOR of the word. Yet there is not a single place touched by the mail steamer where the visitor will not find a shelter of some sort. The ways of the country are those of the wilds, and every house is glad to offer what accommodation it can to those who come along. The Moravian Brethren, the hos- pitals of the International Grenfell Association, the larger planters, as well as the settlers, are always glad to help a visitor along. Naturally, however, if one wishes to go exploring, hunting, fishing, or doing any kind of work which involves going far from the mail steamers, it _ is best to be independent, and to be so one should carry a tent and light camper’s outfit. Very few supplies can be obtained locally. It is best to rely on obtaining nothing beyond flour, sugar, hard bread, salt meats, and one or two of the commoner foods, such as dry peas, etc.; these can be obtained at almost every place where the mail boat stops. Nor must one count on getting canoes or light boats suitable for rivers on the coast. Only a very few such craft exist. It is far better to take one’s own boat and sell it at the end of the trip, for craft of this sort would command a ready market. Guides can be obtained for most of the outer baysif they are arranged for beforehand. Since the summer-time is the only season in which most Labrador men can earn money, arrangements should be made for guides and crews during the preceding winter or spring. The best way to be sure of areliable guide isto write to the agent of the Hudson’s Bay Company, the Moravian Brethren in the north, or the author of this chapter. All are glad enough to assist any one planning a visit to the coast or interior. The best way of all, though naturally the most expen- diecast alinrarycrenniiaain ee ati TRAVELLED ROUTES TO LABRADOR 41 sive, is to hire a schooner or a small steamer, and thus be entirely one’s own master. Few yachts have ever visited Labrador. The descriptions given of the weleome afforded by its coast to small vessels, even in such should-be authorities as the Encyclopedia Britannica, are so poetical in their freedom with the actual facts, that they are not calculated to entice any one who is bent on pleasure. As a matter of fact, if the charting were better, there could scarcely be a safer coast for the amateur skipper, for one can get a harbour in every stretch of ten miles along the whole length of the Atlantic coast. It is not necessary to spend a single night at sea the whole way from the Belle Isle Strait to Cape Chidley. Flitting from harbour to harbour, one can easily cover the entire coast.’ The days are long in summer in these latitudes, and at night the clear atmosphere, the splendid northern lights, and the absence of strong tidal currents (except in the extreme north), make navigation still more easy. I have cruised the coast both in sailing boat and steamer, year after year, and have never been near losing a life yet. Three parties of friends, who have adopted this method of visiting Labrador in a hired schooner (one party having come two summers in succession), all give the same testi- mony.? The fishermen who visit this coast year after year can give similar evidence; thousands of men, women, and children have for many years been cruising the outside coast 1 With one man in an open dingey I have, with comparative com- fort, traversed the coast from Battle Harbour to Rigolet, a distance of two hundred miles. * The gentlemen referred to are Americans from Boston, Mass., Concord, N.H., and Providence, R.I., respectively. 42 LABRADOR in summer as far as lat. 56° north and some as far as Hud- son Strait. These people come down from both sides of Newfoundland in sailing craft of every conceivable kind, many sailing in vessels under twenty tons, and some in open skiffs. Yet it is very rare to hear of any having been lost from stress of weather. The dangers of the ice have often been ridiculously exaggerated. The one or two cases where collisions with ice have occurred have been due to the fisherman’s hastening along on dark nights in order to reach a fishing station sooner than another vessel. In fact, these accidents are due to the contempt bred of famil- iarity, and to the consequent boldness which no pleasure party would ever dream of displaying. The want of charting can be entirely made up for by the knowledge of these fishermen, who can readily be shipped as part of the crew, acting as pilots at the same time. Nor is this knowledge so marvellous after all, when one con- siders the number of times that they have navigated these same waters, and that they have sounded almost every part of it again and again with their hand-lines as they fish year after year along the coast. Moreover, the cliffs are generally so steep-to that the bowsprit would strike before the keel. Poor anchors and chains are the causes of almost all our losses. Only when it comes to the inside calm waters up the fiords, where, as a rule, the Newfound- landers do not go after fish, does their local knowledge come to an end, and the pleasure of exploring for oneself begins. But as the water is then necessarily sheltered from any possible swell from the Atlantic, and as an anchor can at a pinch be drepped anywhere, the danger to life becomes almost absolutely nil. In the fiords it is often impossible TRAVELLED ROUTES TO LABRADOR 43 to strike bottom; if you should wish to do that, your bow- sprit will keep you off the land. Even supposing that you were to strike and lose the schooner, you have only to launch the jolly-boat and row ashore. A forty-ton schooner with a crew of four hands could be obtained for $100 per week, or less — a sum which would include food for the crew, the insurance, and all charges. As such a vessel will easily accommodate a party of four or five, the expenses, considering the nature of the holiday, cannot be considered heavy. The lessor of the schooner would have to be guaranteed probably a ten weeks’ mini- mum hire. It is possible to hire a schooner for a lump sum to include everything.’ If time is a great object, the best way would be to send one’s boat on to Labrador and meet her there in the mail steamer. This would obviate the only open sea that is more than one could be sure of compassing in a day’s run; namely, the journey from St. John’s to Battle Harbour. After that it is perfectly easy to harbour every night. As one travels farther north, the number of off-lying islands increases considerably, and for a hundred miles at a time one can pursue his journey along the coast with an “in- side” passage. From Cape Harrigan in lat. 55° north to Cape Mugford in lat. 58° north, the voyage can be made almost without seeing the open sea. The last thirty miles to Cape Chidley Island is again all inside, and the vessel can then be sailed on into Ungava Bay through a strait on the south side of the island. It may be noted that the tides, such as they are, set almost uniformly to the south- 1 Mr. W. H. Peters, St. John’s, has arranged such a trip and is prepared to assist any one wishing to make a similar expedition. 44 LABRADOR ward, so that however hard it may be to beat against head winds to the northward, it is always easy to get back again. Fire-wood for camping purposes can be obtained every-— where south of Cape Mugford; with a little care and fore- sight the fuel question need offer no difficulty. After many years’ cruising the coast as master of my own vessel, after having visited the coasts of Norway and Iceland, as well as having coasted all round the British Isles, I consider that none of these European shores offers a more fascinating and safer field for pleasure cruising than the coast of Labrador. Everywhere the coast is bold-to, and if disaster overtakes a pleasure vessel in the summer months, it is due to negligence or to bad tackle for holding or running gear. If the visitor to Labrador desires scenery of a wild and rocky nature, he should certainly aim for the northern half of the northeast coast. At Nain the cliffs are already beginning to rise to heights which cannot fail to delight the eye and to stimulate the imagination. From that point on, the sheer precipices increase in number and im- pressiveness until, at Port Manvers, they rise two thousand feet out of the sea; at Cape Mugford, three thousand feet ; at the Moravian Mission station, Ramah, thirty-five hun- dred feet; while the mountains rising direct from sea- level in the Nachvak region are over four thousand feet in height. One of the finest of the great mountain-blocks is that at Cape White Handkerchief—so named from a large mass of white rock in the face of this stupendous promontory. At the head of Seven Islands Bay are the highest mountains in Labrador, known as the “Four Peaks.” So far as known, no white man has ever climbed TRAVELLED ROUTES TO LABRADOR 45 any one of these hornlike, rocky piles: their heights have been variously estimated at from six to ten thousand feet. The probable heights seem to be from six thousand to seven thousand feet. Many of the beautiful inlets in the southern half of this coast may be explored with small, open boats or even with canoes. Some of the inlets can be easily reached by leav- ing the mail steamer at Fanny’s Harbour, Cape Harrigan, or Davis Inlet (the Hudson’s Bay Company’s name for Ukasiksalik). First, there is Jack Lane’s Bay, with a salmon river at its head; then, a few miles farther north, Jem Lane’s Bay, beyond which there begin hundreds of miles of winding, interlacing fiords and channels (“‘tickles’’). Such inside passages thread among a long and wide island- breastwork along the coast; many months could be spent in exploring these waters. ‘The wooded sides of the narrow, steep-sided ‘‘tickles’”’ not only give their own touch of beauty to the landscapes, but afford cover to animals of various sorts. At Hopedale one has access to several long bays reaching up into the interior; at the head of the near- est bay is a large and beautiful waterfall. Farther south the bays bearing the following names will well repay visits: Kaipokak, Makkovik, Kanairiktok, Stag Bay, Hamilton Inlet, Sandwich Bay, Hawke’s Bay, Alexis River Bay, and Lewis Bay. To reach them the visitor should leave the steamer at the respective points: West Turnavik, Makko- vik Island, Hopedale, Cape Harrison, Rigolet, Cartwright, Boulter’s Rock, Square Island, and Battle Harbour. But the universal attraction of the coast — the ever changing glory of the atmosphere — cannot be localized or described. Colour is everywhere, with a gamut that few 46 LABRADOR parts of the world can equal. From the hilltops the land is a giant opal, changing, in a million moods, from the tenderest gray or blue, through vivid emerald or most royal purples, to the unsurpassed gold and reds of the long twilights and dawns. In the summer season north of Hamilton Inlet the sky is seldom clouded over completely, and cumulus, stratus, or ocean mist simply enhance the in- imitable play of nature’s colouring. Thunder-storms are very rare; when one of these storms, coming from the west, does pass out to sea, it may be an event in one’s life. I shall never forget one dark night when the huge cliffs of Mugford Tickle through which we steamed, and a group of great icebergs stranded at their feet, leapt out of the black- ness as stroke after stroke of lightning blazed from the clouds. It seemed that one could scarcely imagine a sight more thoroughly awe-inspiring. Even the short nights of the summer and early autumn are blest with light and exquisite colour, for the auroral displays are, on this coast, among the most frequent and extensive of all those re- corded throughout the world. Very often, beneath this strange sky, thesea is intensely phosphorescent ; the traveller by night may find endless entertainment, watching from the bow of his moving vessel the weird lights set flashing by schools of frightened fish. If the visitor seeks large rivers for exploration by canoe, he can find a good number, and all are well stocked with salmon and trout. Trout are known always to be taken’ with the fly, but beyond the latitude of 53° 50’ north, little fly-fishing has been attempted, and contrary reports are given as to the measure of success in getting salmon to rise. The noblest of the rivers is, of course, the Hamilton, TRAVELLED ROUTES TO LABRADOR AT at the head of Melville Lake (Hamilton Inlet); this river/ | will be specially described in Dr. Low’s chapter on ‘ Ham- ilton River and Grand Falls.”’ For hunting, the places least disturbed by man are naturally apt to be the best. In the autumn almost all the bays abound in geese and ducks. One may be rather sure of geese at the entrance to Hamilton Inlet, at the head of Lane’s Bay, at the entrance of Table Bay, in Goose Bay near Cartwright, and in Byron’s Bay. Other likely places are Partridge and Rocky bays, and also at all the flats near the mouths of the big rivers. The autumn deer-hunting is, so far as known to me, most likely to be successful in Davis Inlet, on the hills about Nain, inside Cape Mugford, at the head of Makkovik Bay and on the hills above Stag Bay and False Bay. After Christmas deer are to be found in abundance within reach of the settlers on the southern part of the coast. Black bears are most likely to be en- countered where the settlers are fewest in number and where the caplin come to the land-wash near the woods. Many bears are killed every year in Hawke’s Bay. They are also found in the fiords between Davis Inlet and Nain. White bears are found in small numbers on the northern parts of the coast, where they remain all summer to feed on the eggs and young of the countless ducks and geese. Those who wish to study the Eskimo should go to Nain, and then farther north. To see them in anything like their primitive condition one should go as far as Ramah, and, if possible, to Nachvak and Ungava. In the northern flords are many relics of the stone-age out of which these people are just passing; many articles of ancient make may be found by travelling in the gravel-beaches. To see the 48 . LABRADOR Nascaupee or Montagnais Indians one should seek for them at Northwest River or at Davis Inlet whither they come to trade their furs. Studies in geology, botany, and mineralogy can, of course, be pursued anywhere. The formations north of Nain seem to offer most prospect of commercial ores. An iron- deposit has been worked near Ramah; gold has been found near Cartwright; mica, at Paradise and at Boulter’s Rocks; | antimony, near Eagle River; and copper, near Cape Mug- ford. No lasting mining operations have been begun. CHAPTER III THE PHYSIOGRAPHY OF LABRADOR By W. T. GRENFELL It is probable that the readers of this book are, as a rule, most interested in the drama of human life as, year after year, it is being played out in this strange land of Labrador. For this very reason one may well pause beforehand to review the physical features of the peninsula; in an in- timate way and often in spectacular fashion the Labra- dorman’s daily life is controlled by natural conditions. The simplicity and wholesomeness of that life are chiefly due to the fact that the men of the country are always close to nature. These essential traits of fine character are growing every day in the youth of Labrador much as the myriad of exquisite flowers deck its hills during the glory of summer; both man and plant are rooted in the soil or grip the native rocks, their home by the sea. This chapter is intended to furnish a brief outline of the physi- ography. Since the northeast coast is from many aspects the most interesting part, a following chapter will supply additional details on that region; in that chapter a brief summary of the geological development of the whole peninsula is also included. The scenic importance of the Grand Falls of Hamilton River demands a chapter which incidentally describes many typical features of the interior. E 49 50 LABRADOR Dr. A. P. Low, now Deputy Minister of Mines in Canada, is the chief authority on the geography of the interior He alone has published much on that greater part of the peninsula. His truly wonderful trips through the length and breadth of Labrador were signalized as much by the success attained as by the absence of mishaps on his long and hazardous journeys. To see the interior one musi understand travelling. Mr. Low’s trips show that much good work can be done with little fuss, and that no ob- stacles to exploration exist which foresight will not over- come. Using his simple but effective and essential rules of outfitting and living on the way, other men will repeat his traverses and add many new ones, until finally Labra- dor is really and thoroughly known. Meantime, I am glad to be able to supply from Mr. Low’s own pen a short account of his findings in the interior. He writes: — “The peninsula of Labrador has an area of more than five hundred thousand square miles. It is an ancient plateau formed of crystalline rocks which were folded up and elevated above the sea in a very early period in geo- logical history. The plateau rises abruptly from the sea along the Atlantic and the Gulf of St. Lawrence, while the northern and western slopes are much more gentle. The main watershed of southern Labrador is about two hundred miles north of the St. Lawrence, where the general level is about two thousand feet above the sea. As con- trolled by the southern position of the watershed and by the range of mountains along the Atlantic coast, the greater part of the drainage is to the north and west, into Hudson Bay and Hudson Strait, and the largest rivers flow in those directions. “The surface of the interior is comparatively level, being broken by low, rounded ridges of crystalline rocks, THE PHYSIOGRAPHY OF LABRADOR 51 which seldom rise three hundred feet above the general level, and are usually much lower. These ridges.he roughly parallel; some of them being many miles in length, but as a rule, they die out in less than ten miles, so that the low land between forms a network of connected, shallow valleys. The general surface is further modified by low ridges of glacial drift, whose direction corresponds with the general slope of the country. These ridges have resulted from the transportation and movement of the loose surface material by the glacier, which once covered almost the entire surface of the peninsula. They have largely obliterated the ancient drainage systems of the central area, where the present watercourses are all of recent origin. The valleys separat- ing the ridges are occupied by innumerable irregularly shaped lakes, which vary in size from ponds to lakes hun- dreds of square miles in extent. The lakes of each valley are connected by a stream, usually with a rapid current and without definite banks, following the lowest levels of the surface between lake and lake. As the streams be- come larger they are often split into numerous channels by large islands; many of the lakes discharge by two or more outlets flowing into the next lake below. There results a bewildering network of waterways hard to follow or map. These streams are seldom broken by falls; and as an ex- ample of the uniformity of the grade, it may be mentioned that the Hamilton River above the Grand Falls can be ascended to the heads of beth its main branches without a portage. The rivers as they approach the coast fall into ancient valleys which have been sculptured deep into the hard rocks forming the general surface of the plateau. The Hamilton Valley is the finest example; cut a thousand feet into the plateau, it extends three hundred miles inland, and greatly exceeds the Saguenay Valley in length and grandeur. “The peninsula, extending northward. through ten degrees of latitude, differs greatly in climate, and passes 52 LABRADOR from cold temperate in its southern parts to sub-Arctic on the shores of Hudson Strait. The climate of the in- terior is Arctic in winter, but during the short summer is much warmer than the coast, with hot days, cool nights, and occasional frosts, so that heavy blankets are always comfortable. The annual rainfall is not heavy, and during the summer heavy rains are rare; light showers fall almost daily, but are not very inconvenient to the traveller. The northern limit of trees extends to the southern shores of Ungava Bay. About the upper waters of Hamilton River, the valleys are thickly wooded with small spruce, fir, aspen, and poplar, while the hills are partly bare. There is a marked absence of underbrush, the ground being carpeted with white lichens on the higher parts and with mosses in the damp lowlands. Blueberries and other small fruits are abundant in the burnt areas and along the banks of streams. “Owing to the high coastal range along the Atlantic, the only large rivers flowing. eastward empty into the head of Hamilton Inlet, which itself is cut through the range The Hamilton River is by far the largest of these; next in size is Northwest River, the outlet of Lake Michikamou, a very large body of water some three hundred miles inland to the northwest. The Kenamow is the third, and flows from the highlands to the southwest. ‘Some knowledge of the interior of Labrador was pos- sessed by the French in 1700, as shown by the map pub- lished at Paris, by Delisle, in 1703. This information was probably obtained from Jesuit missionaries and fur traders. By 1733, seven fur-trading posts had been established along the north shore of the Gulf of St. Lawrence and in the southern interior. “The fight for the fur trade, between the Northwest Company and the Hudson’s Bay Company, lasting from shortly after the conquest of Canada until 1820, led to the establishment of many small posts and outposts far in the THE PHYSIOGRAPHY OF LABRADOR a5) interior of Labrador. The amalgamation of these rival companies led to the abandonment of many of these small posts, of which all trace is now lost. “In 1824, the Hudson’s Bay Company sent Dr. Mendrys from Moose Factory on Hudson Bay, across the peninsula in canoes, to establish Fort Chimo on Ungava Bay. This trip was the basis of Ballantyne’s popular story, Ungava. “At the same time James Clouston was mapping the country between the Nottaway and Hast Main rivers, which flow into Hudson Bay. The next record of explora- tion is contained in Twenty-five Years in the Hudson’s Bay Territory by John McLean. In the period 1838-1840 he made annual trips from Fort Chimo to Hamilton Inlet, and on one trip discovered the Grand Falls of Hamilton River. In 1857 the Hudson’s Bay Company had nine posts and outposts established in the country north of the Gulf of St. Lawrence. Owing to changes in the con- ditions of the Indians, these posts have been gradually abandoned, and but two, Nichicun and Mistassini, remain at the present time. These are situated on the head waters of the Big and Rupert rivers, which flow into Hud- son Bay, and are not within the province of this book. The old posts of Nascaupee, Michikamou, and Winokapau on the Hamilton River were abandoned in 1873, and the Indians belonging to them now trade at posts on the Gulf of St. Lawrence. “With the closing of the trading posts all knowledge of the interior was lost, and it can only be recovered by new explorations. In 1887, R. F. Holmes attempted to reach the Grand Falls of the Hamilton, but being without proper canoes and crew, only reached Lake Winokapau, a little over halfway up the river. Two separate expeditions from the United States ascended to the Grand Falls within a few days of each other in 1891, and accounts of their trips were published in the geographical journals and in the Century Magazine, 54 LABRADOR ‘Since 1885 the writer has made a number of trips through the interior and along the northern and western coasts, reports of which are published by the Canadian Geological Survey. “This in a few words is the available knowledge con- cerning the history of the vast interior of Labrador; our information has been wholly derived from a few portage routes travelled by the voyageurs of the Hudson’s Bay Company to and from the coast and from a few surveyed tracks along the principal watercourses by government explorers and others.” One quarter of the whole surface of Labrador is estimated to be covered with fresh water. Vast lakes are so joined by an intersecting network of rivers that it is possible to canoe over most of the country with astonishingly few portages of length. For example, a voyager can enter the Manikuagan River at the Gulf of St. Lawrence in lat. 49° 15’ north, travel about three hundred miles to Summit _ Lake in lat. 53° north, cross the lake and on the opposite side enter the Koksoak River, and, proceeding another four hundred miles, come out in Ungava Bay in lat. 58° 5’ north. These distances, it may be noted, are in the air- line; following the turns of the rivers the distances are nearly twice as great as those given. Or, again, one can enter Hamilton Inlet, proceed about one hundred and fifty miles to the mouth of Hamilton River in long. 60° west, follow it to its source some six hundred miles to the west- ward, cross by a short portage to the head of Big River, and follow that stream about seven hundred miles farther westward, to its mouth in Hudson Bay in long. 79° west. Probably in no country of equal area can exploration by canoe be carried on with so few portages. . THE PHYSIOGRAPHY OF LABRADOR DD The maps showing Mr. Low’s traverses are published by the Geological Survey Department at Ottawa, Canada; they are the only reliable maps of any part of the interior. The distances along the coast-lines of the peninsula are truly “magnificent.” The air-line stretch from Battle Harbour to Cape Chidley on the northeast coast is seven hundred miles; following the sinuosities the shore-line is doubtless three to four times as long. From Cape Chidley to Cape Wolstenholme (the north coast) is about five hun- dred miles as the crow would fly, if he could live up there. From Cape Wolstenholme to the bottom of James Bay is another eight hundred miles, while the south coast is ap- proximately seven hundred miles, also in a straight line. Thousands of miles of additional shore-line are represented in the numerous inlets and in the literally thousands of islands along the southern and northeastern coasts. The relative accessibility of the coasts, coupled with the fact that fisheries will long be the principal industry of the country, makes it expedient to use more space in the de- scription of these parts of the peninsula. Besides the physiography described in the special chapter on the northeast coast, I shall here add some notes derived from my own exploration of the northern fiords. If one could and should accurately picture the fiords, it would mean that half the interest of the visitors in these northern waters would be lost. The romance of these wonderful cleavages in the mountains largely consists in the feeling one has that, when he-turns a corner, no man has told him what will next meet the eye. The study of the fiords has only just begun; all that I can do is to give - some indication as to general location, lengths, and con- 56 | TUNNUSAKSUK > = z $ 3 . = < —] s > ~o Sy ~ a Ss i) Numberless remains of them and their abodes are here still. scaling station of Eskimo from time immemorial, ! ° 7165 530 3718 ENLARGED PLAN SHOWING BAR Aug. 23. Water dead low at 4.45 P.M. About 15 ft. below high water level. 1905. Shoat of 5-10 f, reported by Seylla. I have repeatedly sounded the channel and especially in 1907, Tcould find no point less than 15 J, in the middle, WILLIAMS ENGRAVING CO., N.Y. . QOS Wey SWb50 Z LABRADOR Station of the~ Moravian Brethern) MAGNETIC NORTH 1600 RULES €| Gp @\q 29 8Low, fiat is 29 “% Islets 9] 22 92 2 “iss SKETCH PLAN AND 5 Low fat ~SOUNDINGS OF TICKLE ae BETWEEN S CAPE CHIDLEY ISLAND AND LABRADOR a7 250-300 ft SCALE OF GEOGRAPHICAL MILES be . oe ~ Ry THE PHYSIOGRAPHY OF LABRADOR oT tours of a few of them. Of the thirty or more larger fiords a few will be noted, beginning at the most northerly one on the Atlantic coast. Some stress will be laid on the landmarks which may be of service to future explorers in the far north. South of Cape Chidley Island is the channel connecting Ungava Bay with the Atlantic. Separated from that Fig. 1. Carpe CHIDLEY 1. 1950 ft. — Mt. Sir Donald on south side of Grenfell Tickle; 2. The cape; 3. Posi- tion of Killinik; 4. East coast of Labrador; 5. Gray Straits. channel for some ten miles only by a narrow, rocky ridge, is a long inlet which I explored in the small steamer Sir Donald during the year 1897. We entered this inlet while searching for the channel above mentioned. We steamed up about ten miles, the water being, as usual, deep on both sides. Finding at that distance a good circular harbour on the north side, we dropped anchor in good mud at six fathoms. We thence scaled the highest hill on the north side, finding the summit too precipitous to ascend until we reached its southwest shoulder. The summit was found to be only about nineteen hundred and fifty feet above sea, but it commanded a glorious view. We could see Ungava Bay in the west, the Button Islands in the north; to the east, the Atlantic beset with numerous islands; to the south, a great array of the rugged peaks stretching away 58 | LABRADOR indefinitely into the mainland. We built a cairn on this peak and named it “Mount Sir Donald.” Running an- other ten miles, toward the north-northwest, we reached a point in the inlet, where it is separated from a similar - inlet from Ungava Bay only by a low neck of land. The main bay continues to the southwestward — how far, I am Fig. 2. THe Curve IN GRENFELL TICKLE 1. Chidley Island; 2. Mt. Sir Donald; 3. Cairn. unable to say. On a second visit to this fiord we found three families of Eskimo camped on its shore; there are remains of ancient Eskimo encampments on the flats. This is an excellent ground on which to search for stone relics. Threading the islands for a distance of ten miles from the mouth of this fiord, another inlet opens. It is marked on the Admiralty chart under the name “Ekortiarsuk.”’ I have never entered it, nor have I record of its exploration by a single white man; the inlet is reported, however, to wind away among the mountains for thirty miles. Fifteen miles to the south-southwest is Mount Bache WES [[ejusissy = s THE PHYSIOGRAPHY OF LABRADOR og and the northern end of the fiord-like Eclipse Channel, which lies between the mainland and the large island “ Aulatzevik.”” Halfway through, this channel is blocked by ledges of rock, so that only small boats can pass. The Eskimo, in order to avoid the journey in the open ocean outside Aulatzevik, regularly use the channel for their skin boats. The mountains on each side of the channel Fig. 3. REGION oF ECLIPSE COAST 1. Cape Naksarektok; 2. Cape Nullataktok; 3. Islands off Komaktorvik; 4. Cape north of Seven Islands; 5. South end of Strand; 6. South side Ryan’s Bay; 7. Cape Territok; 8. North cape of False Bay; 9. Mt. Bache. vary from two to three thousand feet in height. Aulatze- vik is divided by a through-going valley, occupied in part by a long bay and, for the rest, by a string of small lakes. The bay offers excellent anchorage. The American eclipse expedition of 1860 has published a chart of the island and “tickle” (channel), but it does not show this harbour on the southern end of the island. Just west of the entrance to the harbour there is a remarkable natural landmark, a sketch of which is given in Figure 4. The landmark may be useful to any one making the land here, for the peak is plainly visible from the sea; I have called the peak “Castle Mountain,” since it greatly resembles an old ba- 60 LABRADOR ronial castle perched high on a semi-isolated spur of the general range facing the sea. Care must be taken in ap- proaching the northern entrance, for there are, besides several very small islands, some ‘“‘nasty’’ shoals lying be- tween east and northeast of Mount Bache. Beyond these shoals there are some larger islands, one of which has an Fig. 4. VIEW FROM SEA OFF SOUTHERN SIDE OF Bie Bay 1. Eclipse— North entrance; 2. Castle Mountain; 3. A green grassy point; 4, By waterfall. excellent harbour on the western side. These we have called the Mettek Islands, 7.e. Hider-duck Islands. In 1903 Mr. George Ford of Nachvak, with two Eskimo, visited the islands during the breeding season. The birds were so thick on the ground that Mr. Ford had difficulty in finding enough space free of nests or eggs on which to place his sleeping-bag. The men took away twenty-five hundred eggs, but when they left the eggs were as abundant as ever; the eider-duck is a most industrious bird. About five miles to the south of the southern entrance, beyond the mouth of the bay called ‘‘ Komiadluarsuk,” THE PHYSIOGRAPAHY OF LABRADOR 61 a remarkable headland rises from the water. This is a ridge some two miles long and persistently about three hundred feet high. The sky-line is serrate, and the fisher- men call the ridge ‘‘ Razorback.” The rocks of the lower cliffs (specially steep at the east end) are red; those higher Fig. 5. WESTERN ENTRANCE TO GRENFELL TICKLE 1. Chidley Island; 2. Mt. Sir Donald; 3. Western entrance to Grenfell Tickle; 4, Tunusaksak Bay. up grow darker until, at the top, the ridge is almost black. Its various peculiarities make the ridge a fine landmark. “Razorback”’ lies just north of the entrance to the next fiord, that called Ryan’s Bay. This one has not been ex- plored by schooners. There is good anchorage on the north side, just beyond a great rampart of dark rock which runs southerly, at right angles to the ridge just described. On this side of the fiord there is a notable beach of sand, one of the very few sand beaches on the coast. It is a com- pound beach, being made up of successive terraces of sand, each terrace marking an old level of the sea; the whole forms the clearest evidence of the recent emergence of the coast border from beneath the sea. There are numerous 62 LABRADOR remains of old Eskimo ‘earth’ houses, sunk into these raised beaches. The roofs have long since fallen in, but the walls, built of boulders and banked with sand, were still standing. The bay is said to run far inland, and re- ceives at its head a good-sized river plenteously supplied with trout, a former food supply for the Eskimo. The mountains both to north and to south of Ryan’s Ors OE YZ is Y Go / WS — ww Fic. 6. Mountains TO WEST-SOUTHWEST LOOKING OVER Ryan’s Bay Bay are alpine in character. The peaks are bare and sheer ; one, rising to the southwest, reminded me strongly of the Matterhorn, though, of course, on a smaller scale (Figure 6). Fifteen miles to the southward, or halfway between Ryan’s Bay and Cape White Handkerchief, another large, double fiord opens. Owing to the large islands facing this inlet, the fishermen have named it Seven Islands Bay. The two divisions of the bay are called by the Eskimo “Komaktorvik” and “Kangalaksiorvik.” The entrance may be safely made by keeping the north side aboard ; there is abundant good anchorage almost anywhere inside. The large, high island bearing to port is called “ Avagalik,” or Whale Island. The entrance to the south of the islands is partly blocked by shoals occurring near the islands. THE PHYSIOGRAPHY OF LABRADOR 63 These shoals are dangerous, especially as they are covered with black kelp; the average depth upon them is about two fathoms. To enter safely, one should keep the shore side aboard. Running out directly seawards for nearly twenty miles is a barrier reef of low black rocks surmounted by tiny islands; the whole simulating a coral reef in form, though, of course, not in origin. The fishermen call the whole the Hog’s Back, from the likeness of the islets and rocky points to a hog’s bristles. There is an interesting problem as to just how all these innumerable rocks were cut off so near the water-line. To approach the entrance of the double fiord from the south, the skipper should keep all the islands, including the Hog’s Back, to the north; standing in for the land about five miles north of Cape White Handkerchief; with the cliffs aboard, pass in south of a ridged island about three hundred feet high and a mile long. This island is of a red colour, and is called by the Eskimo “‘ Nenoraktualuk,”’ or “‘ Big White Bearskin”’; it is the only really large island on the outside. Four miles west of the end of the island is the spring sealing station of many EHskimo, and is called “ Inuksulik,” or Beacon Island. How far the double fiord extends into the land is not known, though it is certainly many miles. The Eskimo catch trout in Komaktorvik, and used to carry their catch - to Nachvak, the Hudson’s Bay station until 1906. Since this region north of Nachvak Inlet is the least known part of the Atlantic coast, I have laid special em- phasis upon it, with the express purpose of pointing to the need of its further exploration. The more southerly fiords have been more visited by white men. One of the very finest of all is that at Nachvak; it is illustrated in Dr. 64 LABRADOR Daly’s chapter on the geology and scenery of the northeast coast — a chapter which also contains a brief description Fig. 7. REGION OF IRON STRAND 1. Point at entrance to Seven Island Bay; 2. The Iron Strand (Sagliarvtsek), shoal water close in (black sand and rocks). of the very different, though likewise imposing, fiords and channels about Cape Mugford. In order to avoid a tedious verbal account, while giving some idea of the curiously varied scenery of the coast as I have seen it, a considerable ! Waa BAY A Wt Ma hie | ) | HM | f tl Siu NAY ih aul Fig. 8. Rercion oF IRON STRAND 1. Promontory off north end Iron Strand; 2. Long fresh water pond. number of sketches have been introduced (Figures 7 to 12). The configuration of the sea bottom off the coast is, of course, of the utmost importance to the fisheries. Im- perfect as they are, the Admiralty charts yet give us our best information on this subject; to them the reader is THE PHYSIOGRAPHY OF LABRADOR 65 referred, as a useful written description of the many irreg- ularities of the inshore bottom is quite impossible. In Fic. 9. CAPE NULLATAKTOK Cape White Handkerchief just around corner. general, it may, however, be said that the whole coast is fringed with a shelf covered with relatively shallow water, the depth averaging well under one hundred fathoms. ZG. VB \ 4 “ =a i) Vin \ mM "S SS K Gj NARS Zz Ne > Y Sih “jg YU Hi HV xi \ SS AY Wael ZZ \ WW \\y WM GMLL 1 SN YS OaTH) SSQAH| A} HH giz s \\ \ Ae TY pe a ae SONS SME ZN Yy)\\Zz ae f WO Ly } , WY \Waee Fig. 10. REGION oF RAMAH 1. Ramah Bay; 2. The Look-out; 3. Mountain above Mission Strait, 3500 ft.; 4, Reddick’s Bight. The beltlike archipelago of islands along the northeast coast simply represents the emerged portions of the shelf. Beyond the islands the depth may increase to more than one hundred fathoms, but, farther out to sea, the bottom F 66 LABRADOR often rises again, forming shoals which many claim to be the winter home of the cod. The famous Grand Banks Fig. 11. View or SAEGLEK Bay 1. Bluebell; 2. East Uivuk; 3. St. John’s Harbour; 4. Southwest Point; 5. Saeglek Bay; 6. Point bearing N. 290° W. off Newfoundland represent a great enlargement of the IN i Z ia ZY Wi WNW SZ Ny ANN \\ — MY ——S Fig. 12. ViEW LOOKING WEST UP SAEGLEK Bay 1. St. John’s Harbour; 2. Southern division of bay; 3. North division of bay; 4. Island bore N. 325° W. shelf. The summer fisheries are carried. on along the “inner banks” which, between Cape Harrison and Cape THE PHYSIOGRAPHY OF LABRADOR Schooner Anchoragé Dy. Schooner Anchorage wHy %, “iy Wy “if | Good anchorage in 7 fm.. close vn, Opposite two white beacons. WILLIAMS ENGRAVING CO., N.Y, oe MZ Uff) “yp ~ SAMMY, FZ Yy Ws Ny AU Wiig PAW diihiy NY A ACIS STI) i )\) \)) L ay) Rowsells 4} Harbours iN Bs Za Fyre NN S\ MAGNETIC STA hi \ mn GO Look Out Ov Wer eae Cape ‘ A Nakearevton The Muzzle Sti 1 WS WWilliS Servaluk RAMAH REGION | Long. 68°15’ W. Lat. 58°53/N. SCALE OF GEOGRAPHICAL MILES 68 | LABRADOR Mugford, Hind has estimated to cover fifty-two hundred square miles. Beyond the outer banks the bottom drops off into water hundreds of fathoms deep — at the real edge of the continental plateau. As a rule, the tides are practically unimportant in the navigation of the Atlantic coast of the peninsula. They are to be reckoned with in the narrow parts of Belle Isle Strait and in the region about Cape Chidley. The only overfalls likely to affect a small boat are to be expected off Forteau, off Point Amour, in the narrow tickles near Cape Chidley, and in Belle Isle Strait. In the strait the current runs about three knots an hour both to the east and to the west. On the northeast coast the current generally runs slowly to the southward. Strong winds will affect these velocities about a knot an hour either way.’ The tides of the far north are, on the other hand, quite remarkable. On one occasion I attempted to force the nine-knot steamer Strathcona against a full ebb tide in the tickle south of Cape Chidley Island. At the narrowest place, where the defile is only a hundred yards in width, the water was a boiling torrent, filled with whirlpools. The steamer, though at full speed ahead, was carried astern. We were forced to run back and await the turn of the tide. We reckoned the current at fully ten knots an hour. The range of tide on the Atlantic coast varies from five to eight feet; at Cape Chidley it is thirty-five feet, while 1 Fuller information may be obtained in the monograph on the tides of this coast by Dr. W. Bell Dawson, Engineer in charge of tidal surveys for Canada, Department of Marine and Fisheries, Ottawa, Canada. SOI JOWWINS OY} WOIJ JYUSIN }@ P219A09 Sulaq S90}e}OYg SUIMOUS ‘UISN Je Suspsey THE PHYSIOGRAPHY OF LABRADOR 09 the range in Ungava Bay is said to be as much as fifty feet. In any case the range in this bay is one of the greatest recorded in the world. Since the magnetic pole lies to the north-northwest of Hudson Bay, the magnetic variation is very high on the Labrador coast. At Battle Harbour it is 40° west; thence it increases until it is more than 53° to the west at Cape Chidley. The visitor cannot fail to be struck by the fact that, during auroral displays, the middle of the illuminated arc, which flames over the magnetic pole, lies to the north- west, far from the north star. It should be emphasized that the charts of the region north of Hamilton Inlet are of little or no practical value to the navigator. They are only of value in giving general directions and in furnishing a crude pictorial idea of the coast. The climate of Labrador is not excelled anywhere in the world for its bracing and invigorating effect. Testi- mony gathered from hundreds of workmen, prospectors, visitors, sailors, fishermen, officials, lumbermen, and scientific men have shown that, without exception, their general health has improved, and they have been able to sleep quite a material proportion of the twenty-four hours longer than at their own homes. Without exception where access to proper food has been possible the tend- ency has been to increase in weight in our winters. Labrador has no endemic disease, and though, like all subarctic countries, it is the home of many mosquitoes, there is no malaria. Notwithstanding the great number of Eskimo dogs bred and kept in the country, I have never known nor heard of a single case of either hydro- 70 LABRADOR phobia or of the Tenia echinococcus, or fatal tapeworm, that dogs transmit to man. The restorative influence of a holiday in Labrador on a jaded and overwrought system is often truly wonderful, and I feel sure that, under proper conditions, a constitution will be toned up much faster than in the summer resorts. Commander Peary has recently added his testimony to the great value of the Arctic air to consumptives. There has somehow got abroad an idea that Labrador is continually wrapped in fog. This is an entirely erroneous - idea, and has arisen from the fact that at the line of junction of the Gulf and polar currents, in the regions of the Banks of Newfoundland and England, more or less fog is preva- lent. Asa matter of fact, fog is almost left behind at the Strait of Belle Isle. Many times as: we have steamed out: of the strait in thick fog, and passed the southeast corner of. Labrador, we emerged from what, on looking back, re- sembled a dark wall, to bask ouldenee in the clearest of sunshine. 3 “As master-of my own ed for nearly thirty years on the coast, I can say that the delays that I have experi-: enced in the summer from fog between Battle Harbour and Cape Chidley have been quite immaterial. On the average, however, a more or less foggy day about once a fortnight may be expected. The rainfall again is exceptionally small, and the amount of snow that falls in the eight winter months, which is at that time the rain of the country, is not sufficient to leave a permanent ice-cap even on the highest peaks. There are no accurate statistics avail- able to show exactly what the rainfall is. A certain. THE PHYSIOGRAPHY OF LABRADOR 71 land surveyor who, with a party, spent four months on the Grand River and not far from the very centre of the country, experienced only one-half day during which rain prevented his party from working. On the other hand, the amount of sunshine is well up to the av- erage. One might say that in summer one day in three is altogether sunny; one day in three is partly sunny; one day in three, dull. As these deductions are not the result of accurate, scientific records, I can only offer them as the results of my own general notes from year to year. Fog is seldom found in the fyords as one gets north unless with prolonged easterly wind. | The summer temperature of both air and water varies ereatly as one leaves the coast and goes up the bays. This remarkable feature of the coast is due to the combination of two influences — that of the southerly latitude within which Labrador lies, and that of the polar current which sweeps right home to its Atlantic shore. When one con- siders that the southern point of Labrador is on the same parallel of latitude as London, and its most northern point only the same as the north of Scotland, one can understand how in summer the sun’s rays are very effective in warm- ing the atmosphere in localities untouched by the polar current. The summer temperature of the outside water averages, at the surface, from 40° to 45° F., while ten fathoms down it sinks to nearly 35° F., and at thirty fathoms is from 30° to 35° F. When, however, one gets near the head of a bay, say twenty miles in from the coast, the temperature at the surface may be as high as 50° F. and at the heads of the big bays, especially above Rigolet o6L “XB 096 — o8L 1G — 064 oGG 04 .9F 066 04 oLE ob + oLE — 04 oI 06 + Ue oGL — 07 ovE oOT 001 98LT oll Ube o9f — 99 GE GLLT 068 OF oP o0Z 04 o IP 099 04 0&6 09G 97 0 0°6 9 LLLI GILSVY NOGlUuvy CL Ajtpeeys oOF 9F o€3/4IOT JOIFV IFT “AON C35 = LLL a0u0 0 aaoqy 4SOuy Apes PLLI LHSIUMLUVD 0G — OF o9P ELLT 0'ST €°6S ert 69°81 VIE ve Or IG 8P IG'8P L8°1¥ G8°SE v0'6T 66°€ Giz T'S |€SS |G 1S OS 1 =e 96l |9ZT |L St 6CE [ESE |TIE Tor |L1b |8'0F L0G |G°0¢S |2°8h 60S |S6r |I'L2h OCP |F Ch |GIP GEE SSE [OSE GIS |O'6T |€ ST v9 19% VE Soe — se 61S |S1S |9°SS 3 Ue 18's 6 LT |€°ST |L°61 STE |S°6% |Z°0€ ['Ov |9°8E |9°8E OLE |\F 9F |6'9F ELV |99F |€'6r TGP |L OF |1'or GSE |ESE |S PE GSI |O'LT |1°0z SS IGS |G°s L3i—|P6=|s2— 48—|@'0L —|S00L—|62—18 ck — (2166216 6 ‘dwmay, jenu “uy uve 29q "AON "190 "ydeg ‘sny Ajne eune ACI [udy qoreyfl “OP OLLT SNVG HO NVGI 06.-88.-¥8. aIVdadopyT (LIGHNGYHV,] SUMUMOAC) SUVAX LINGUA, ANVJX DNINOG BYOACVUEVT NI SACOLILVT SQOIUVA LV SHUNLVUEINA], ATHLNOF ADVUAAY NVGy 40 ([) ATaVY, 72 THE PHYSIOGRAPHY OF LABRADOR 73 in. Hamilton Inlet, even higher. The diurnal range of the summer air temperature in the bays is not great. This systematic relation of temperatures produces the result that, though on the coast one can grow, as vegetables, only stringy cabbages and leaves of turnips, at the bay heads, carrots, potatoes, cabbages, turnips, currants, rasp- berries, and gooseberries grow with readiness. The average temperature in summer for southern Labrador is about 00° F. On the coast the diurnal range may be from 30° to 80° and in the bays from 45° to 90° F. The lists (on this and the opposite page) of average monthly temperatures are taken from the records of the Deutsche Seewarte, as copied here from the report of His Excellency, Sir William MacGregor: — TABLE (2) oF Mean, MaximuM, AND MINIMUM TEMPERATURES FOR ENTIRE YEARS (DEGREES FAHRENHEIT) PLACE Lat. N. YEARS MEAN Max. Min. RANGE. Ramah 58° 53! | ’84-’88 | 22.64 Hebron HSe 12 | "84-91% 21.2 Hebron 58° 12! 86 26.8 — 33.8 Hebron Docu: 87 26.5 76.1 — 38.0 114.1 Hebron HS 12) 88 27.8 79.8 | — 36.4 116.2 Hebron 58°) 12’ 90 DAR HS, 86.2 | — 38.0 | 124.2 Hebron Om WH ’O1 23.3 83.3 | — 40.5 123.8 Hebron 58° 12’ | ’94—’95 72.5 | —19.1 91.1 Okak 57° 34’ | ’84-’88 | 21.9 Nain 56° 33’ | ’84-’90 | 21.92 Zoar 56° 07’ | 784-90 | 22.28 Hopedale | 55° 27’ | ’84-’90 | 24.08 74 LABRADOR - In a country like Labrador the seasons are so marked, and bring with them such great changes, that one must know exactly at what time to come in order to enjoy any favourite pastime to the best advantage, or pursue any particular object. One visitor landed on the coast, and we drove him over a frozen harbour in the end of May. He had been enjoying fresh strawberries at home before he left, and expected to find summer here, and not our last. month of winter. I may therefore give a brief description of the seasons so that one can tell at a glance what is likely to be going on at any particular portion of the year. - January. The second coldest of the winter months; only occasional temperatures above freezing, and then only for a short spell. The whole country everywhere is under ice and snow. ‘The first winter mail arrives from Quebec by dog. train. Natural bridges make it possible to cross all the rivers, bays, and arms of the sea. Thus, travelling is usually begun in this month, though in the green woods snow is not yet hard packed, and consequently one has to go round the “drogues,’”’ as we call them. The dogs are able to go fifty to sixty miles in a day. The shortness of the days is the chief drawback. The settlers:are all in their homes in the woods at the heads of the bays. They are trapping fur, hunting deer, and lumbering. The great herds of deer are in the low marshes and woods near the land-wash, and are often obtainable in great plenty. Willow grouse and rabbits are plentiful at times in the woods. Harp seals are being netted as they pass south along the Labrador coast. The sea is impossible to navigation during this month. February. The coldest month with seldom any “‘let up” THE PHYSIOGRAPHY OF LABRADOR (3) — temperature in the north even falling on rare occasions to 45-50° below zero F. ‘Travelling is improved by the heavier falls of snow, which fill the dangerous hollows and smooth off the rough, rocky points. The Arctic ice blocks the coast and keeps the swell from breaking up the ice in. the bays. The Strait of Belle Isle is choked. The hood and harp seals are working southwards in the sea off New- foundland and in the Gulf, to whelp on the loose floes around _ which they find the fish. Fox-trapping with hunting for marten or sables,. minks, musquash, and other species is in full swing on the land. | March. A splendid, bright, bracnies cold month. The reflection of the sun from the snow makes it imperative to. protect the eyes with coloured spectacles, since a single day’s exposure will blind aman. The skin gets so tanned: that whites begin to resemble Indians in colour. White settlers never lose the tawny colour. This constant sun bath, in spite of the low temperatures, has an excellent tonic effect on weakly people. The snow is now hard, and It 1s as easy to travel through thick woods as in the open. Much longer distances can be covered by the dogs in a day; they can be given their heads to choose their own paths. Furs are in their prime. The annual seal hunt from New- foundland takes place, and all along the southern seaboard the settlers are on the watch for baby seals on the ice. Some of the birds are breeding, e.g. the Canada jay. Settlers are cutting logs and hauling them out for summer fire-wood. Some traps are now taken up, as certain furs cease to be in prime condition. April. The bright, hot sun in the middle of the day begins to thaw the snow, which freezes hard again at night. 76 LABRADOR Travelling is done mostly in the early morning. The ice at times clears off enough to leave a narrow strip of open water along the exposed coast. Ducks and geese, with other smaller birds, such as the snow-bunting and the northern shrike, begin to arrive from the south. Some men are now netting seals if the season is early ; others are still working at twine for summer use. Shooting sea-birds from the head- lands offers good sport. Fur shows clear loss in value. Many settiers return to summer fishing stations, using dogs and komatiks to transport all their summer necessities out to the islands. Others who take care of and repair the sta- tions of our summer visitors are hard at work on houses and stagings. On fine days these men, while at their out- side work, venture off on the running ice. Most years, however, the ice is too hard near the shore, and to go off far from shore, hauling small boats on runners, is restricted to the hardier and more venturesome. Through the ice of the ponds in southern Labrador, good trout. fishing can be obtained. May. Navigation as far as the south part of the east coast is practicable, though onshore winds will bring the floe-ice in at any time and block all the harbours and bays. Still, one or two venturesome vessels come down with safety to southern Labrador, seldom taking any harm from the ice beyond what they are liable to at any time of year. American bankers are baiting in the straits, and French fishermen from Newfoundland arrive on the Treaty Shore opposite. The first steamer to carry mails leaves St. John’s for Labrador. The rivers and bays break up. The last of the people move out to their summer homes for the fishery. Good trout fishing is to be had in the rivers or in [OAC] BSPITS JOJUIA\ JO} ,. KOG ueWONM,, THE PHYSIOGRAPHY OF LABRADOR 7 the lakes through the ice. Foxes have their young and sea-birds are nesting all along the coast on the islands and rocks. Many people gather the eggs and store them for eating. Traps are all taken in by the first day, as the fur is now losing colour and the long “‘king”’ hairs fall. Seals are beating north; swatching or shooting them from the ice pans as they come up to take breath forms a very fa- vourite pastime. Old harps and bedlamer seals are caught on southern Labrador in great frame nets. Farther north the Eskimo are hunting the walrus. The deer are all going north and taking to the hills. The native bears leave their caves; any white bears that have gone south on the floes begin to work north again. June. Most of the snow has gone, though in places it remains to the water-level. Ground is still hard frozen, with occasional frosts at night. Arctic ice still besets the coast. Fishing vessels work down along the straits and the southern part of the east coast. Some years the mail boat gets as far as Hamilton Inlet; other years ice inside the islands is as hard as at any time in the winter. In the straits the cod-fishery is in full swing, while on the east coast the southerners in their schooners are up the bays get- ting wood for firing, for stages, etc. Americans, Canadians, and West Coast Newfoundlanders are trawling in the straits and Gulf. The sea is very calm, owing to the ice outside. The brilliancy of the sun, the innumerable icebergs, the return of the whales, and the fleets of fishing vessels make the scenic effects some of the best in the year. In the inlets the salmon and trout fisheries are being prosecuted. Deer seek the hills to avoid the mosquitoes. The does are with their fawns in the woods. Black bear seek the fish along 78 LABRADOR the land-wash. Most of the small bird visitors from the south have arrived. Lean dogs wander about everywhere, searching for meat, for they are no longer fed, and as yet there are no fish heads and offal for them. July. Most of the ice and snow gone from the land. The ground at the heads of the bays thaws out enough to sow seed. The mail steamer now usually reaches her northern limit at Nain, visiting all along as she goes. The caplin -are working into the land farther north and at- tracting the codfish. Salmon in the river begin to take the fly. The young ducks and other sea-birds are hatched out. Pleasure schooners can get down among the Eskimo who are now out at their summer fishing stations in skin tents. The salmon fishing with nets in the inlets is going on, and the cod-fishery begins with the caplin school. Mos- quitoes hatch out and are troublesome. a August. Southern cod-fishers reach their extreme north- ern limit, and fish are taken as far as Cape Chidley. Caplin begin to die or leave the shore, cod following them out of the bays. The salmon-fishery in the sea is at an end. The salmon and trout in the rivers rise to the fly well. The best fiords and least-known northern bays are accessible to pleasure yachts. Icebergs in greatest abun- dance are now to be seen. They are continually driving south with the Arctic current. The flappers of water-fowl are big enough to shoot. Old ducks and divers are moulting, and, being unable to fly, escape pursuit only by diving. The first foreign vessels with dried fish leave the coast. Cloudberries and other berries, e.g. bilberries, currants, raspberries, begin to ripen. Formerly large flocks of curlew came down to feed on these. The young geese in the bays are beginning to fly. THE PHYSIOGRAPHY OF LABRADOR 79 September. Hooks and lines replace the large trap nets, as the cod are now only to be taken in deep water. Northern schooners begin to. come south with cargoes of green fish. The first snow falls about Cape Chidley, and frosts begin to set in at nights. Deer are to be had in the country. Geese and black duck are seeking the salt water in the day- time, and may be shot flighting. The mosquitoes are no longer troublesome. Grouse are to be shot on the hills, - and afford excellent sport. Small migratory birds begin. to leave. Berries are plentiful and add materially to a camper’s menu. Caribou. leave the hills for the marshes. All. together, this is the best month for sportsmen to visit. Labrador, except for salmon-fishing. October. The southern fishermen mostly lead Pleasure schooners must do the same. Fish.are still to be taken in deep water with long lines. Frosts at night are often severe, and many harbours begin to “catch over”’ with ice. Ducks and geese leave the coast.. Deer are rutting, but are now nearer the seaboard in the leads and marshes. The winds are high and cold, but they are nearly all westerly and off the land; thus the sea is often smooth alongshore. The most disastrous storms, however, have occurred in this month. All the trappers are busy taking supplies into the country and preparing their traps. Otters, foxes, mink, beaver, etc., come in season. They are, however, not really “prime.” Large Labrador herring are taken in gill nets. Lesser auks, puffins, murrelets, and other diving sea-birds are very plentiful, passing south. The lakes all freeze over, and the hilltops are all capped with snow. November. The last of the southerners leave. The 80 LABRADOR mail steamer makes her last visit. Winter has really arrived. Not a craft left afloat on the coast by the end of the month. Trapping is specially now for foxes and mink on the seaboard. Many settlers on the “outside” are engaged with seal nets. The rest have gone to their homes among the trees at the bottom of the long bays. The last of the ducks and geese leave. Hares, rabbits, grouse, etc., assume their winter colouring. Dogs are now fed up for their winter work. Lumbermen are in the woods cutting logs. December. The short days tend to make this the most dismal month, but the dog driving begins and the assump- tion of snow-shoes, or ‘‘ski,’”’ also helps to enliven matters. Any game killed now will remain good till June, being hard frozen as soon as killed. All along northern Labra- dor many seals are being netted. Even the large rivers are now safe to cross on the ice, but in some of the arms of the sea there is still no ice that will bear, owing to the tide. Some of the best furs are now taken in the country. The first dog mail leaves for Quebec at Christmas. The Well-beloved Mail-man CHAPTER IV THE GEOLOGY AND SCENERY OF THE NORTHEAST COAST By REGINALD ALDWORTH DALY “Tu Labrador Peninsula is less known than the interior of Africa or the wastes of Siberia.” In these words the noted naturalist, Mr. A. S. Packard, in 1891, summed up existing information on that anciently discovered but long- neglected land. Low’s fruitful journeys across Labrador have added much to the store of knowledge, but there is even now but little exaggeration in Packard’s statement. It was therefore with great and prolonged interest that the members of the Brave expedition of 1900 studied the 700 miles of coast from the Strait of Belle Isle to the Hudson’s Bay post in Nachvak Bay. The Brave was a tight little schooner of but forty tons, specially fitted up to be the home of the exploring party for the summer. The party con- sisted of five Harvard men and one man from Brown Uni- versity. Three seamen and a pilot captain with a miracu- lous knowledge of the ten thousand islands, shoals, rocks, channels, and landmarks of “‘the Labrador,” sailed the little vessel. Leaving St. John’s, Newfoundland, on June 25, the schooner coasted all the way to Nachvak, which was reached on August 22. This slow passage gave the explor- ing party numerous opportunities to sample the natural history and geology of the coast. One member of the expe- | re! $1 82 LABRADOR (a3 9 dition or “exhibition,” as the fishermen with unconscious humour and truth called it, was an amateur botanist, an- other an ornithologist, a third a prospector, a fourth a geologist, and the others enthusiastic hunters. The writer was busied with the geology of the coast, and most of the observations noted in the wo pages refer to results obtained during that season.’ To know Labrador is to know its Danae The visitor to the northeast coast, were he to go thither to study thor- eughly its climate, its scenery, its botany or zodlogy, its peoples or few industries, must come upon the final ques- tion concerning all of these: whence came they? When fully answered, he shall have been told thestory of the phys- ical growth of the peninsula. Each bird, beast; or man; each moor, tundra, ragged reef; swelling granite dome or fretted: mountain-ridge on all the thousand miles of shore, forms a link in the chain that’ binds the present with the inconceivably distant past of the earth. And seldom else- where is the explorer’s mind so forced to the thought of an ancient evolution. The great rocky headlands, looming first out of the fog; the deep, quiet fiord or island-labyrinth recelving the stranger vessel as she runs in from the open sea; the vast, moss-coloured landscapes on the wilderness of hills; the stately train of icebergs or the yet mightier ocean- current that bears them southward, — these first views, startling in their savageness, charming in their mantle of colour, astonishing in their extent, always of enthralling interest as the elements of a new kind of world, can never 1 A technical report on the geology appears in the Bulleting of the Museum of Comparative ey at Harvard Maro Vol. 38, p. 205, 1902. a by Bids: 1 GEOLOGY AND SCENERY OF NORTHEAST COAST 83 fail to rouse a very ardour for exploration. In England, France, or Germany, the peoples, the culture, cities, rail- roads, institutions, must claim the traveller first, and the primitive, the soil, the ground of Europe, only second. In most of Labrador, Nature, supreme in her loneliness, ealls first, last, and always. Like every science, earth-science is the result of restless, eternal questioning, much of it answered, infinitely more unanswered. He thinks especially in questions who thinks at all in Labrador geology; it forms a mass of problems for the most part unsolved. Yet some of these have such importance that the mere statement of them has value, and when further exploration has given the solutions, it will be found that the scientific study of Labrador will have brought a rich store to man’s knowledge of the whole earth. Rather, therefore, to erect finger-posts pointing the way to wide fields of research than to indicate that much is known of ‘the Labrador coast, the pages of this chapter have been written. So far geologists and geographers have accomplished nothing more than a rapid reconnaissance of the coast. That stage of exploration has a borrowed name, and in some respects explorers are compelled to regard the new land as an enemy — to be conquered at some cost. More or less “roughing it,” almost always a degree of hard though repay- ing toil, the bite of the sun or the bite of the polar wind — all form ‘‘ part of the game,” a kind of war-game. An expe- dition to the Labrador has assuredly to meet with such troubles and a few special ones besides. In early summer a sailing craft must meet with the wide fields of pan-ice which unite with the ‘Labrador’ ocean-current and prevalent 84 LABRADOR northwest winds to prevent a speedy progress “down” the coast. Ashore, at any point from Belle Isle to Hebron, the “enemy” assumes a new face much more repellent. Many a time has every naturalist ashore on the coast during July or August been driven from his work or through it by Labrador’s greatest plague — the almost incredible mosquito and black fly. In countless swarms of countless individuals they attack hands, face, and neck necessarily unprotected in the collection of specimens or in the manipu- lation of instruments. It is written that the grasshopper may be a burden, but he is a small angel of light compared to the Labrador “fly.” | In Newfoundland the mosquito and gnat have had an apologist who, in all fairness, should be heard. Thus writes Whitbourne, the optimist: ‘Those Flies seeme to haue a great power and authority upon all loytering people that come to the New-found-land: for they have this property, that when they finde any such lying lazily, or sleeping in the Woods, they will presently bee more nimble to seize on them, than any Sargeant will bee to arrest a man for debt. Neither will they leaue stinging or sucking out the blood of such sluggards, untill, like a Beadle, they bring him to his Master, where hee should labour: in which time of Loytering, those Flies will so brand such idle persons in their faces, that they may be known from others, as the Turkes doe their slaves.”’ But to the explorer, especially to the geologist, there is another side to the matter — an occasion for keen pleasure in spite of every disability in the way of advance or in comfort. Once beyond the fog-curtain so often let down over the Strait of Belle Isle, he can enjoy a climate made for GEOLOGY AND SCENERY OF NORTHEAST COAST 85 strenuous outdoor work. If he be interested in bed-rock geology, he finds conditions comparable to those that favour observation in ‘“‘The Paradise of geologists,” the arid or subarid plateaus of the western United States. Here as there the climate forbids the growth of the heavy forest- cap which covers so much of the geological record in arable lands, and in Labrador the intense glaciation of the last Glacial epoch has left remarkably little rock-rubbish or “drift”? on the surface of the well-scoured and still rela- tively unweathered, fresh rock. The geologist leaves the coast, therefore, well content if he has had time to make anything like an extended reconnaissance of the enemy; there remains as well the stimulus to hope for a future campaign. Labrador is the land of charm, whether it be among the low, moss-covered islands of the south or on the superb mountains of the north. But this charm hitherto de- scribed in terms of impressions derived from visits to what is really southern Labrador is a hundred fold greater in the region north of Cape Mugford. Yet throughout the whole stretch from Belle Isle to Hudson Strait the scenery is to be related, sooner or later, to one great group of geological formations, all rocks of the remotest antiquity; and perhaps no more fitting introduction to the geology and geography of the coast is to be found than to describe the extensive fundamental terrane. It belongs for the most part to the Archean series, offering like the Archean rocks of the world, problems of extreme difficulty. Able and highly trained geologists, specialists in the Archean, during the past thirty years have solved some of these problems, but it is still fair to call this 86 LABRADOR vast group of rocks forming the staple material of the Lab- rador coast by a name confessing at once some knowledge and muchignorance. The Archean formations compose the foundation on which the Continent of North America has been built. Resting upon its ancient surface are the rock-beds bearing the skeleton remains of the earliest known organisms, and upon those beds have been accumu- lated in turn the limestones, shales, sandstones, conglom- erates, and lavas, which make up most of the continent. That is one of the main facts known about the Archean, — it is a basement formation. Another fact, no less certain, no less important, is that the Archean is complex in its composition, in its structure, and in its history. Let us, then, call these old rocks by their time-honoured name, “the Basement Complex.” Here and there on the earth the younger, covering rocks have been swept away by age-long weathering and wasting, and the ancient foundation has been exposed to the air. Nowhere on the earth is so great a continuous area of the Archean to be found as in eastern Canada. From Lake Winnipeg to the Atlantic, and from the St. Lawrence and Ottawa rivers northward to the Arctic, the Basement Complex, still locally bearing on its back patches of the younger rocks, forms a rolling, timber-covered plateau, which amazes every explorer who compares the simplicity of its present-day relief with the infinite turmoil through which its constituent rocks have passed. These rocks are almost entirely crystalline — gneisses, schists, marbles, coarser crystalline limestones, and granitic rocks of endless variety — agreeing, however, in the telling of a common story, that the Complex is the remnant of enormous mountain-systems GEOLOGY AND SCENERY OF NORTHEAST COAST 87 long battered by the weather of ancient days, and so long and successfully attacked and lowered by streams, that already very early in the earth’s history these mountains had been flattened to a relief probably as tamed as that of the great Canadian plateau to-day. It was this old-moun- tain plain, or almost-plain, which formed the nucleus of North America. Noone cansay as yet, even approximately, how much the old plateau has been affected by the destruc- tion of the millions of years since it was reélevated from beneath the sea, with its mantling load of Cambrian, Silurian, Devonian, and later sediments. Again and again the Basement has been, wholly or in part, alternately above and below sea-level. With each emergence it has lost sub- stance, and with each loss a new physical geography has been developed upon it. When a mountain-system is young, its summits are ranged more or less systematically in straight or slightly curved lines joining the crests of the various ranges. When the system is very old, that is, worn down flat by age-long wasting, these same trends may still be recognized in the structure of the mountain-roots. A normal range owes its existence, not so much to simple uplift of the earth’s crust as to an intense folding and crumpling together of its rock- strata by powerful forces acting tangentially with reference to the curve of the earth and transverse to the axis of the range. If, therefore, the Basement Complex forms the root of an old mountain-system, the natural inquiry arises as to the trend of the rock-bands now visible to the geolo- gist; for these, even in the absence of the long-vanished mountainous relief, will tell the direction of the old ranges and, by implication, the direction of the great compressive 88 LABRADOR forces which set the earth’s crust writhing so long ago, and so built one of earth’s earliest mountain-systems. Rather, then, to raise the question than to declare an BAFFIN a LAND ay XN — pa : A} . git y eee | : 7, Eu 4 -* fj At | Sketch map showing mountain trends in eastern North America. answer to it, the writer has prepared the diagram of Figure 13, embodying a tentative conclusion, the result of observa- tions at some twenty-five localities on ‘‘the Labrador.” GEOLOGY AND SCENERY OF NORTHEAST COAST 89 The little map is intended to show that there is definite trend to the rocks of the Basement Complex, and that. this trend has a remarkable parallelism with the present north- east coast of the peninsula. That is, the edges of the worn- down, folded schists and other rocks, like the axes of the folds, run parallel to the general shore-line. It looks as if this part of the Basement Complex were originally built up by mighty earth-forces acting in a northeast-southwest direction and raising a distinct and lofty mountain-chain on the line of the present coast. Further exploration is necessary before the conclusion can be considered as final, but Dr. Bell’s discovery in the Baffin Land Archean of what would appear to be the continuation of the same “Labrador trend”’ (thus extending more than 1300 miles) lends force to the idea. In Figure 13, heavy black lines diagrammatically repre- sent the ‘‘ Labrador trend,” and others represent the various elements in both relief and rock-structure which belong to the great Appalachian mountain-system. The two trends meet at the Strait of Belle Isle. The “Labrador trend” locates one of the most ancient (Pre-Cambrian) mountain- ranges of America; the Appalachian trend characterizes the much younger (Post-Carboniferous) system that in- cludes the Alleghanies, the Blue Ridge, the White Moun- tains, the Green Mountains, and the lower ranges of New Brunswick, Nova Scotia, and Newfoundland. Where so little has been done in the field, one must hold but loosely to the idea of a definite law of structure in Canada’s most difficult terrane, but it is believed to be a fair and just, perhaps helpful, working hypothesis to govern further exploration. 90 LABRADOR It would be tedious and not very profitable to the general reader to describe all the different types of rock found in the Basement Complex; yet a few principal considerations will serve to indicate the kind of material which goes to form the bed-rock of the coast, and serve, also, to outline the grand march of events that gave us modern Labrador. With but rare exceptions the rocks of the Basement Complex are allied to that most familiar rock, granite. Like granite they are aggregates of common minerals like quartz, feldspar, mica, hornblende, augite, magnetite, etc. These are always crystalline, though rarely does any mineral show crystal facets to the eye. The minerals interlock in the intimate way characteristic of granite. Further- more, these rocks bear witness to one common fact of origin with granite. They formed, crystallized, under the press- ure of overlying rock which has long since been swept away — eaten away by the weathering and decay of ages, eroded by the ‘tooth of Time.” Many of the individual rock- masses are known to have resulted from the crystallization. of once molten rock-material, cooled slowly as its heat was conducted through the heavy cover of rock above. Such is believed to have been the origin of all granites. Others of the Labrador rocks seem to have crystallized at a tempera- ture high enough to allow of the rearrangement of their ultimate particles from former quite different associations, yet at a temperature too low for actual fusion of the rocks. Such are the conditions within the heart of a mountain- range as it grows, its rocks crumpling together, piling up, fracturing, and making way before great bodies of the molten matter erupted from the interior of the earth ; such GEOLOGY AND SCENERY OF NORTHEAST COAST 91 were unquestionably the conditions under which the old Archean chain of Labrador was upheaved. As we have seen, enormous lateral pressure, pressure too great to be comprehended by the human mind, ridged up the rocks to alpine heights. During that process much of the crystallization and recrystallization of the Archean rocks took place. It was, therefore, natural that the min- erals of the rocks should be arranged with reference to the pressure. They might be expected to he in the rock with their longer axes perpendicular to the lines of force, assum- ing thus the position offering greatest resistance to that force. This is the case for probably much the largest area of rock in the coastal belt. Many granites and allied rocks which had been ‘‘intruded,”’ in the molten state, mto the base of the range, were squeezed by the continued appli- cation of the same mountain-building forces, and their minerals, too, have been crushed and driven into alignment at right angles to the direction of pressure. So it has come about that the commonest rocks found on the coast are what are called ‘crystalline schists’”’: gneisses, which are like granite in composition but show on the broken surface the parallelism of the minerals; mica schists, with the same (schistose) structure, yet lacking the white or pink feldspar crystals of gneiss; hornblende schists, in which the familiar mica is replaced by the less familiar but likewise important -mineral, hornblende; and a large number of other rock- species of similar structure. The nature of the original material from which the crys- talline schists have been made, that is, the composition of the earth’s crust in a mountainous region before the moun- tain-building began, is one of the most interesting problems 92 LABRADOR before geologists to-day. It has been proved in certain fa- vourable localities that such schists are the result of the alter- ation of more ancient slates, sandstones, conglomerates, vol- canic ash, and lava-flows, under the same conditions as once obtained within the Archean range of northeastern Labra- dor. Here again is a wide field open to further exploration. The geologist who seriously studies these coastal rocks of Labrador, wonderfully exposed as they are, may some day establish new principles of interpretation, or confirm those now forming the basis of modern earth-science. During the paroxysmal though extremely slow growth of a lofty, alpine mountain-range, other changes of great moment occur in the deep, highly heated core of the range. The foundations of the huge pile are unloosed, and enormous blocks of the solid rocks are displaced by molten or thoroughly plastic matter, thrust up into the range by titanic subterranean force. There cooling, this material crystallizes into solid rocks of the granite type. As it crystallizes, the whole mass may be pulled out in the wrenching shear of mountain-building, much as soft pitch may be drawn out in the hands. In such a case the min- erals composing the new rock are arranged in lines, and not in planes, as in ordinary schists. An unusually fine example is exhibited on a large scale at Pottle’s Cove, West Bay, halfway between Belle Isle and Hamilton Inlet. The rock is there a common light pinkish gray granite possessing. this curious arrangement of its constituents — a witness to the ‘storm and stress” period of Archean mountain growth. Late in the mountain-building period there occurred one of the most important underground events yet chronicled JUISIG. SON SATA ‘YINOS Sy} Wor yoOeq-10zZey ‘1A GEOLOGY AND SCENERY OF NORTHEAST COAST 93 in Labrador. For at least fifty miles along the coast from Ford Harbour northward, and for many miles inland, the older formations of the range were in some manner displaced by a huge body of molten rock. This enormous mass crystallized into a solid rock precisely analogous to common granite in having solidified under a cover of older, over- lying schists or strata. The latter have since been worn away, and to-day the once deeply buried “intrusive” body is visible in mountain stubs covering hundreds of square miles. The rock is called ‘“‘gabbro”’; in composition it is often similar to basalt, the commonest of lavas, 7.e.such rocks as have been erupted at the earth’s surface from volcanic vents. Like basalt, the gabbro has a specially dark colour, that which dominates the island-cliffs and mainland-moun- tains of the region about Nain. These highlands are bare of both soil and vegetation, and the black slopes impress the eye with a sense of sombre, almost terrible, majesty even greater than is given by their mere altitude and savage sculpturing. Aulatsivik Island (“‘The Ruler’’) and Paul’s Island, lying in a whole archipelago of smaller, rounded, hummocky islands or ragged skerries, offer numerous land- ing-places where the formation can be studied. As in other occurrences within the Canadian Archean, the gabbro is chiefly made up of a wonderfully beautiful mineral, a feldspar, first recognized as a distinct species during the examination of hand-specimens brought many years ago to Europe from Paul’s Island. The species was called “labradorite” in its first description, and the name is still employed to signify one of the main constituents of the earth’s crust. It is predominant not only in gabbro and gabbro-like reeks, but as well in the bulk of the world’s 94 LABRADOR volcanic rock. Labradorite early attracted the attention of mineralogists and of the much larger class of persons interested in gems and in the beauty of colour in inorganic — nature. Owing to the peculiar internal structure of the mineral, white light penetrating its glassy surfaces is broken up into its coloured components. Some of these are absorbed in the mineral and do not affect the eye; the remainder are reflected from myriads of microscopic particles within the feldspar and afford tinted light-rays of exquisite beauty. Purples, violets, and blues, flashing lke flame out of the iridescent crystals, are the prevailing colours, but bronze, yellow, green, orange, and red are not uncommon. The individual feldspars vary greatly in size, the diameters ranging from a quarter of an inch or less to six or eight inches. As rocks go, the gabbro is always coarse-grained, but the finest labradorite is found in the numerous veins of specially coarse rock which crop out irregularly on the ledges. An enterprising American has attempted to market the labradorite as a semi-precious decorative stone. He opened a quarry on a small island (Napoktulagatsuk) situated some twelve miles south of Nain. Dr. Grenfell had the kindness to place the steamer Strathcona for a day at the disposal of the members of the Brave expedi- tion, and the writer was thus enabled to visit the quarry. It was found that sufficient blasting had been done to remove the weathered rock at the surface. Notwith- standing the fact that the more beautiful material had been shipped away, the fresh surfaces of the rock presented a unique and striking appearance. The iridescence could be discerned in almost every part, but a perfect glory of GEOLOGY AND SCENERY OF NORTHEAST COAST 909 colour flashed from the coarse, vein-like patches in the rock. With each changing angle of vision a new splendour of gorgeously tinted rays shot out of the finely contrasted dark gray of the general rock-surface. It is no wonder that every effort should have been made to market the stone. Yet, with all their resources, Tiffany and Company have had to decide against the success of the material as a gem. One of the chief difficulties in working the stone lies in its extremely brittle and cleavable nature, forbidding the production of a well-polished surface. The conditions of nature do not, however, prevent the collection of many uncut specimens of exceeding beauty. The finest material yet seen in the bed-rock occurs on or near Napoktulagatsuk. The settlers on the coast report abundant iridescent lab- radorite also on Mt. Pikey, southwest of Ford Harbour. A complete account of this interesting formation would necessarily involve a description of the other minerals composing the gabbro, but that would carry the reader far into the domain of the rock-specialist. The relative ages, areal distribution, and exact com- position of the hundreds of igneous rock-bodies between Belle Isle and Cape Chidley must be left almost entirely to future discovery. From the magnificent exposure of these terranes a splendid harvest can be pou to all geological expeditions to the coast. The Nain gabbro seems to have been “intruded”’ into the older rocks after the mountain-building, with its folding and crumpling, was nearly completed. This at least ap- pears to be the testimony of the rock-ledges themselves. If the gabbro had already been crystallized out before any considerable amount of the lateral crumpling still remained 96 LABRADOR to be applied, the minerals of the existing rock should show the crushing and granulation due to the strain of the later mountain-building. Such has been the fate of great masses of this gabbro in other parts of Labrador and in Quebec, but, so far as known, the coast gabbros have escaped extensive crushing. The same remark applies to a quite different class of intrusive rocks which leap to the eye of every observer on the coast. Toward the close of the epoch of mountain- growth in the Basement Complex, perhaps at or near the date of the great gabbro intrusion, the base of the entire range from Belle Isle to Chidley was fissured and, in a sense, shattered. To that event there contributed the irregular contraction of the granites and highly heated schists as they cooled, and doubtless, also, a general settling down of the ridged-up crust after the earth’s paroxysm was over. Countless cracks and fissures were thus formed far down below the lofty, rugged surface of the range. The fissures were seldom, if ever, left gaping. So soon as formed and in the very act of forming, they were filled with highly molten basaltic rock which then froze or crystallized. Thus the range was strongly knitted together again. So firm was the new cementation of the shattered formations that the rocks filling the ancient fissures now form so many ribs strengthening the mountain-chain against the attack of the weather. All up and down the coast the gray sea- cliffs and mountain-slopes are seamed with these thousands of basaltic fissure-fillings, the so-called ‘‘dikes”’ of “trap.” Wonderfully fine examples occur on the north side of the entrance to Hamilton Inlet. From the anchorage in Ice Tickle one should mount any one of the higher hills on either Aeq YeayoeN jo wuy usoyjnos sy} jo [[@AM Ista uy GEOLOGY AND SCENERY OF NORTHEAST COAST 9% Ice Tickle Island or Rodney Mundy Island and cast his eye over the singularly varied landscape. Under his feet the observer will find the black ledges of trap. He speedily notes that all the rounded ridges or knob-like hills of the region have the same dark hue, and rightly concludes that they are composed of the same rock. Between the hills are short, broadly flaring valleys floored with light gray schistose rock peeping out through the moss or from beneath the curlewberry bushes and willows. Each of the two large islands, for about three-quarters of its surface, is underlain by the coarse-grained schists with some com- mon granite. The remaining fourth of the surface is un- derlain by the trap. Many of the ancient fissures have parallel walls which are from ten to a hundred feet or more apart; others have doubly convex walls converging at the two ends of gigantic pods of trap up to a thousand feet in breadth and perhaps of twice that length. The trap being more resistant to the weather than the rocks it cuts, the hills have assumed the varying outlines of palisade, ridge, or dome, according to the shape of their respective bodies of intrusive rock. Such a landscape most tellingly declares the fact that in mountains generally, but especially in old mountains, the expression of the actual relief is really more controlled by the age-long sculpturing of the elements than by the original upheaval of the earth’s crust. The uplift and folding together of strata but furnished the raw material; the carving out of valleys by the weather, and particularly the destruction of the softer rock-belts, leaving the more slowly wasting, harder ones projecting, have evolved the finished product, the mountain topography of the present day. H 98 LABRADOR These dikes of trap often occur in nests,as at Ice Tickle, but, large or small, they are never wanting in any extended view of theshore. They form striking features in the frown- ing cliffs of the north; perhaps nowhere better displayed than in a score of huge, black, vertical seams of trap part- ing the schists of Mt. Blow-me-down. Another score of [— — : Ss Ss ——— Fic. 14. From a photograph View of Striped Island, looking east. The highest point is about 200 feet above the,sea. The black bands represent horizontal sheets of trap, cutting the gneiss. parallel dikes cut through Webeck Island. On account of their great size — on Mt. Blow-me-down, ranging from one hundred to four hundred feet in width and exposed for thousands of feet along their walls — these dikes are conspicuous even many miles offshore, compelling in the mind of every voyager wonder at the stupendous force that so cleaved the mountains to their mysterious depths. Such dikes appear in the view of Bear Island (opp. p. 180). They are small examples, but serve to show the essential characteristics and that contrast of colour which makes the dikes scenically important on the coast. Before the moun- tains were wasted away to their present low relief, these dikes extended upwards hundreds, if not many thousands, GEOLOGY AND SCENERY OF NORTHEAST COAST 99 of feet. It is, indeed, possible that their fissures reached quite to the surface and built volcanic cones and lava plains long since destroyed. That inference is supported by the discovery on the Labrador of just such volcanic accumulations, although these have not yet been suffi- ciently studied to show actual connection between the lavas and the dikes of trap. That the latter were thrust into the fissures of the mountain-core with enough energy to force the molten rock to the surface is implied in the conditions of Figure 14. Striped Island gets its name from a remarkable group of thin, nearly horizontal sheets of black trap cutting common gray gneiss. The causes of the intrusion here may have differed from what they were in the case of the vertical dikes, which, as we have seen, entered the base of the moun- tain-range by a kind of permission; great mountain blocks moved apart and permitted the plastic trap to enter the opening fissure. But the sheets of Striped Island, as they forced their way into place, had apparently to lift a rock- cover weighing countless millions of tons. Their intrusion began along so-called ‘‘joints’”’; that is, microscopic though continuous cracks previously developed in the gneiss. The imagination may well be staggered in the attempt to grasp the magnitude of a force which could so thrust fluid rock into almost infinitesimal cracks, wedging up a whole mountain in the process as if a Titan had worked with an omnipotent jack-screw; yet there seems to be no escape from the conclusion that such a wonderful display of power in the molten under-earth has taken place. In summary, then, the different formations composing the Basement Complex of Labrador, though understood 100 LABRADOR only in the light of rapid and incomplete exploration, are to be viewed as those belonging to old-mountain stubs. The facts show with certainty that an enormous volume of rock has been carried away to the depths of the Atlantic, where the débris is accumulating to this day. Observa- tions in structure, too technical to be described in these pages, seem to show as clearly that the staple rocks of the Labrador were, in Archean times, built up into a gnarled and knotted mountain-system extensive in area and lofty in an Alpine, or even Himalayan, sense. But the imagination is not left entirely unaided in its attempt to reconstruct the Archean mountains. In com- paratively recent geologic time a portion of the Basement Complex on the Labrador has been warped up, 2.e. bodily uplifted, so high that the streams of the country have been enabled to cut many thousands of feet down into the old rocks. Asa result, the 150 miles of the coastal belt south- eastward from Cape Chidley presents to-day a rugged relief, rivalling in grandeur many famous Alps of Switzer- land and the Selkirks of the Canadian West. Here the strong topography has a distinct coastal trend, and its boldness forcibly suggests that there has been a veritable resurrection of the Archean mountain-chain. This long mountain-belt has been called the ‘“Torngat” Range, from the Eskimo word for ‘‘bad spirits.” A single view of the bare, forbidding, riven, and jagged cliffs of the saw-tooth ridges and alpine horns, whether seen in the interior or springing their thousands of feet from salt water in the fiords, leaves no wonder at the name. The absence of trees, the eerie loneliness of the whole land, and, in the countless gorges and ravines, the depth of shadow GEOLOGY AND SCENERY OF NORTHEAST COAST 101 made startling by the brilliance of the high lights under a northern sun, might well cause the savage mind to people these mountains with sinister devils. A noble introduction to the Torngats is to be found as the vessel bound for Nachvak Bay rounds the long finger- like promontory of Gulch Cape, ten miles south of the Bay entrance. All along the shore cliffs of gray, naked rock, streaked with great black seams (dikes) of trap, rise 2000 to 2500 feet directly out of the sea, and terminate in sharp peaks and ridges. One of the latter has been appro- priately named “Mt. Razor-back.”’ Imagine four miles of a saw-toothed pile of rock, nearly 3500 feet high and furrowed on the seaward face by a score of deep gulches which cleave the mass from top to bottom, and each of the lateral ridges in like manner broken by a dozen ravines on each slope, and you have a picture of mountain-land without a parallel on all the American coast of the Atlantic to the southward. Between the great ridges open long, flat-floored valleys that have been moulded into their present forms by the glaciers of the Ice Age. During a memorable day the Brave beat up the Inlet, her crew and passengers enjoying an ever changing panorama recalling in its grandeur the cliffs and fiords of Norway. Nachvak Bay forms a trough running transverse to the range and heading some 30 miles from the Atlantic, at a point more than halfway across the mountain-belt. It is, therefore, fortunately situated for the exploration of the Torngats. For a half-dozen miles together its walls present steep, or even nearly vertical, precipices, their heads often covered with clouds a half-mile above the sea. At one salient angle formed by the meeting of two branches of 102 LABRADOR the fiord, is such a cliff, 3400 feet high — twice the height of the famous Cape Eternity of the Saguenay fiord — the culminating point of a notched and bastioned wall ex- tending seven miles to the southward. Often the vivid and varied colouring of the rocks or the threads and broad ribbons of numerous waterfalls cascading over the cliffs enliven these scenes. How rarely the Inlet is visited ap- pears in the fact that our schooner was the first sailing vessel in eight years to cast anchor at the Hudson’s Bay Company Post of Nachvak. Both to south and to north of the Bay the mountains are truly Alpine in form, their summits measuring more than 6000 feet in altitude. Indeed, some 50 miles to the north- ward, at least one of the “Four Peaks” is believed to be: over 7000 feet in height. In any case, it is not too much to say that the Torngats afford the most lofty land imme- diately adjacent to the coast in all the long stretch from Baffin Land to Cape Horn. When it is remembered that these mountains rise out of the sea itself, not from an ele- vated plateau as in the case of the Green Mountains and the White Mountains (Mt. Washington about 6300 feet in altitude), one may well be prepared to understand the fact that in all eastern America there is no scenery that even approaches in-scale and ruggedness the Torngats of the Labrador. At its southern end the range gradually assumes the tamer profiles of a broken plateau. About fifty miles southeast of Hebron, the Moravian mission station, the scenery once more becomes specially impressive, but a wholly new element appears in the landscape forms. Again we meet with a boldness of relief extraordinary for eastern America, with GEOLOGY AND SCENERY OF NORTHEAST COAST 108 heights above sea-level of from 2500 to 3500 feet for moun- tains starting up out of the depths of the Atlantic. This second mountain-group covers about 300 square miles. It is called by the Eskimo the “ Kaumajet” or Shining Moun- tain, a name forming the exact equivalent of the Hindoo “Himalaya,” and recalling the considerable list of names of peaks, as Mt. Blanc, the White Mountains, Mauna Kea, etc., covered with perennial or evanescent snow-fields. So far as known the Kaumajets have a unique history in the topography of the coast, and it is of special interest not only in the discussion of the wonderful mountain-forms of the present day, but because of an ancient record,—a geographic fossil long preserved beneath rocky leaves but now visible, for the book is open and may be read. It will be remembered that the Basement Complex was worn down to an almost-plain before the earliest known fossil- bearing rocks of eastern America (the Cambrian formations) were formed. Let us imagine this old mountain-root land- surface sinking deeply beneath the sea; then imagine piled upon it a thickness of 3000 feet or more of mud, sand, and gravel, along with the lavas, flows, and ash, of sea-coast or marine volcanoes. Such material, since hardened to form well-bedded slates, sandstones, conglomerates, tuffs, and trap-rock, was the raw stuff from which the Kaumajets have been made. The whole mass, including the well- buried Basement Complex, was long ago hoisted above the sea, warped and slightly folded into great shallow troughs and low arches (Fig. 15). For countless millenniums the new surface was given over to the patient but powerful attack of frost and other weathering agents and the still more destructive water-streams new born on that surface. The 104 LABRADOR result has been to wear away all but a comparatively small patch of the ancient sea-bottom sediments. Steep-walled gorges and canyons have thus been sunk, leaving massive tables, mesas, and terraced plateaus that reach down to the ' l ’ ix TE STH, LUE Sf Atl 4 bs yy 4 ue ’ - ae x Zy j CLM ABE 7 7 Zot 5 ths 47 J $2 bel ps aii LY, YB Ly By Pa ry Z = ie MYM TY. Yy, Pi Lisle (aa a See Li A DAME obit Sas “oy, y Z eZ ies 1s: From a photograph The Kaumajet Mountains, looking north from Mugford Tickle. valley-bottoms in gigantic steps like those in the much younger strata of the Colorado Canyon. The result has been to fashion a type of mountain scenery truly wild and imposing and of unusual interest in possessing an architec- tural element quite lacking in the other high mountains of the Atlantic coast. This special quality is best brought out when a fresh fall of snow lying on the narrow ledges of the even-coursed cliffs makes evident the nearly horizontal structure. Examples of the Kaumajets are represented in Fig- ures 15 and 16, drawn from photographs. In Figure 16 the old buried surface of the Basement Complex, revealed once more after its millions of years, probably tens of GEOLOGY AND SCENERY OF NORTHEAST COAST 105 millions of years, of burial, appears above the broad un- stratified band at the base of the Bishop’s Mitre. A brief note from the revised log of the schooner Brave suggests how little exploration of the Kaumajets has been accomplished :— ‘“As indicated by its position, composition, and topo- graphic character, the island of Ogua’lik really forms the southern extremity of the Kaumajets. Mugford Tickle separates it from the mainland. It was in this narrow channel that our anchorage was chosen. Again we had occasion to mourn the slowness of our northward progress, for it would have been of the highest interest to devote a fortnight at least to the exploration of this region; in order to be certain of reaching Nachvak, however, we allowed but two days in which to secure information concerning the nature of the massifs immediately surrounding the vessel. “The nine-hundred foot scarps of Ogua’lik would have been impressive among the tamer landscapes of southern Labrador, but they were dwarfed beside the superb walls of the opposing mountains only a mile or two distant. We had entered the tickle late at night, and in the brilliant starlight had discerned the huge piles looming up in solemn and formless grandeur. Their mystery became in part dispelled as a bright sun disclosed a scene in its way un- rivalled in Labrador. Due north in the centre of the view two gracefully rounded knobs, estimated by the aid of barometric readings halfway to their summits to be 2500 feet in height, lay close to the verge of an almost vertical precipice from 1000 to 1200 feet high. Below this a series of lesser cliffs, separated by steeply sloping screes of rock-waste stepped downward to the uneven floor of a 106 LABRADOR deep NE.-SW. valley. On the southeast the valley is bounded by a similar arrangement of cliffs and taluses. It ends as a great cul-de-sac, two miles in length, in a thou- sand-foot head-wall over which there cascades a large brook. “On landing, I found that the first and natural impres- sion, that this systematic array of scarps and taluses sig- nified a stratified structure for the massif, was justified.” At the foot of the great cliff the light-colored gneisses and other crystalline schists of the Basement form broad ledges well scoured by the ice of the Glacial Period. Their gently rolling surface is considerably more uneven than the old “fossil” land-surface on these same crumpled, gnarled, and twisted rocks. The overlying, veneering strata of the plateaus include black slates, quartzites, and sandstones, apparently all sea-bottom deposits ; but probably more than 1500 feet of the half-mile of thickness in these bedded rocks belongs to a volcanic formation. For unknown centuries this part of the Labrador must have been the home of one or more, perhaps many, volcanoes of large size. Millions of years ago they erupted enormous volumes of ‘‘ash”’ and other débris of lava. Most of the lava was shattered into ~ angular fragments, coarse and fine, by the violence of ex- plosion. In the resulting deposits one can find abundant and very perfect ‘“‘bombs” with the rounded shapes and cracked surfaces of lava masses freezing as they spun through the air from the mouth of Nature’s cannon. Other thick sheets of solid lava represent the quiet flows that signify yet greater power in the eruptive force. So far only the most cursory examination has been given this important rock-section. No organic fossils have been GEOLOGY AND SCENERY OF NORTHEAST COAST 107 found in any part of the series of beds. Geologists cannot say, therefore, just what is the age of these rocks relatively to the other formations of the world. It is only known that here, as in similar rock-groups in western and southwestern Labrador, the stratified beds are extremely old in a geologi- cal sense, dating in all probability from a time near the beginning of the so-called Paleozoic Period. An incon-- ceivable time has elapsed since these lost volcanoes were active; inconceivable time had elapsed between the build- ing of the Archean mountains and the bursting forth of the lavas. Though the exact number of millenniums engaged in those events cannot be told, the discovery of organic remains in the sea-bottom sediments can yet give science an idea as to the relative place of the events in the earth’s history. Such a search for fossils, the closer description of the rock-formations, the mapping of the region, and the contemplation and explanation of the marvellous scenery of the Kaumajets offer an exploring party enjoyable work for more than one busy season. It is doubtful if a more promising region for research in Nature’s wonders can be found elsewhere on the Labrador. In the northward journey from Mugford Tickle, the vessel will pass close under the sheer two-thousand foot cliff of Cape Mugford. Nowhere is the “geographic fossil” of the Kaumajets better displayed. Even in the pho- tograph one can see the exceeding contrast of colour and composition in the Basement Complex and in the bedded rocks above. It is hard to imagine a more spectacular exposure of such a surface as that limiting the Complex. Let the visitor to the Kaumajets remember that the “al- most-plain”’ has an antiquity so vast that, in comparison 108 LABRADOR with it, the Alps of Europe, the Andes of South America, our own Rocky Mountains, the Colorado Canyon, the bound- less plain of the Mississippi Valley, are all but creatures of a day. He will then not only enjoy the wild picturesqueness of these masterpieces of Nature’s masonry, but hold in special reverence their hoary record of an ancient world. (| (| — Lh LS NN \ \ SS SF NB ama Wi. JIL MQM ds oh \Y art A AEE QA map pty L eS AK , 774 fi NOGRNN NOE) \ Vy / 1, f SS QX aS L144 ! I Wal \ NS A = = Fic. 16. From a photograph Sea-coast view of the ‘‘Bishop’s Mitre” (left) and ‘ Brave Mountain” (right). Again the scene changes. ‘‘ Numerous waterfalls and extensive banks of snow lent welcome relief to the dark cliffs, the black recesses of the great sea-chasms, and the savage gorge-like inlets that opened one after another as our schooner slowly forged through the ‘tide’ around the cape. Fine as this.scenery was, still greater magnificence awaited us as we came face to face with the Bishop’s Mitre (Fig. 16). Seen from the northeast, the Mitre, estimated to be about 3500 feet in height, exhibits a symmetry which is most re- markable in view of the fact that the existing profiles are everywhere the result of weathering and wasting. The two peaked summits are separated by a sharp notch about 500 feet in depth — the uppermost part of a long ravine YON sulyoo] ‘pioysny odeg GEOLOGY AND SCENERY OF NORTHEAST COAST 109 cleaving the mountain to its base at the shore two miles from the notch. Occupying the bottom of the ravine an uninterrupted snowbank still marked, in the month of August, the line of symmetry of the whole mountain. From either peak of the Mitre a rugged razor-back ridge descends, each gradually diverging from the other across the widening intervening trench. With essentially similar profiles, the two spurs further match as each terminates at an elevation of about a thousand feet in a bold rock-tower. Each sen- tinel tower rises some 800 feet above the ridge-crest, from which there is a sudden slope of the full 1800 feet into the zea. The light gray colour of the Basement, in contrast with the black of the cyclopean masonry above, adds to the impression won from the beautiful symmetry that the whole structure is the work of giants with the brains of men. No more interesting mountain occurs on the whole coast.” Our knowledge concerning the Torngat Range or the Kaumajets is imperfect; still less is known of the third of the high places on the Labrador — the Kiglapait. Fif- teen miles north of Port Manvers and some fifty miles south of the southern limit of the Kaumajet group, the Kiglapait lifts its rocky head and giant vertebre out of the sea like the massive skeleton of some monster reptile left stranded on the shore. Practically all the information to be had on the real nature of the range is embodied in two para- graphs of the report of the Brave expedition: ‘‘The name of this mountain-group is an Eskimo word meaning ‘The Great Sierra’ and refers to the very ragged sky-line and general outlines. The axis of the range runs due east and west parallel to the coast-line, which here has an exceptional trend. The sierra is not more than thirty miles in length, 110 LABRADOR but, on account of its conspicuous position on the shore, is strikingly picturesque. Ten different summits from 2500 to 4000 feet in height could be counted from the schooner. No one of these, so far as the writer has been able to de- termine from missionaries, fishermen, or from the literature, has as yet received a name. Here, as in the higher moun- tains of the north, there is abundant opportunity for sys- tematic field-work on the part of such an organization as the Appalachian Club. ‘“We had hoped to spend some days, if not weeks, in the study of these interesting mountains, but the lateness of the season forbade our dropping anchor within reach of the noble range. Judging again simply from the peculiarly dark colour of the bare rock-surfaces, it seems probable that the gabbro seen at Port Manvers makes up most of the Kigla- pait, which will thus represent the Coolin type of gabbro mountains in Scotland.” The 2700-foot Mt. Thoresby at Port Manvers is another dark-coloured mass of the gabbro, which continues to a point at least twelve miles south of Nain. Thence southward the rugged, island-girt plateau of the Basement Complex extends all the 350 miles to Belle Isle Strait. Throughout that distance the hills and islands on the shore range from 200 to 1200 feet in height, with an average altitude above sea of about 500 feet. A typical view epitomizing the topography may be had from the summits near Hopedale. One’s first impression from the view is that of an extremely broken character in the relief. The endless succession of hills and valleys, is- lands and bays, would seem to proclaim that on no account must this land be called a plateau. And yet no designa- GEOLOGY AND SCENERY OF NORTHEAST COAST 111 tion more helpful in giving one an accurate and significant idea of the landscape can be applied. From the deck of schooner or steamer coursing several miles offshore, the hundred visible hills of the coast-belt are seen to accord so closely in elevation that the general sky-line 1s notably flat. The flatness would scarcely be more pronounced if some miraculous shovel were to fill in the valleys. Such magic filling would give a land-surface quite similar to that which explorers have found sweeping westward over the wide interior of Labrador and beyond to Lake Winnipeg. It is the last ‘“‘almost-plain” to which the Archean mountain- system has been reduced by the wasting of the ages. Since the plain wasformed, it has been bodily elevated some hun- dreds of feet, and especially on its edges, as on this southern half of the Labrador, new valleys have been etched out by weather and running water. So numerous are these valleys that the relief along the coast 1s wonderfully diversified, but it belongs none the less to an old-mountain plateau cut in intaglio. Before we take the next step in declaring the develop- ment of scenery on the Labrador, it is well to review the eround over which we have come. The limited explora- tion of the Labrador has led to the recognition of several distinct units in its topography, all to be related directly or indirectly to an ancient mountain-system represented to-day in the much-worn Basement Complex. The south- ern half of the coast represents a part of the greatest single element in the relief of British North America — the Archean plateau. The Torngat Range of the extreme north forms the ‘‘ Alps”’ of eastern America, — true moun- tains, as shown not only in the folded and crumpled struc- 112 LABRADOR ture of their rock-bands, but as well in the conspicuous heights of the individual peaks. The strength of this mountainous relief is principally due to the deep incision of stream-made valleys in a portion of the Basement Com- plex locally, and in a geological sense recently, uplifted far above the general level of the Archean plain. So far as known, the Torngats thus owe their origin to the selfsame processes that have shaped the low but much broken plateau of the south. A third element in the scenery is found in the high gabbro ranges of Nain, Port Manvers, and the Kiglapait. These fine mountains may similarly have undergone recent uplift ; or, on the other hand, they may be still high because the gabbro is tougher than the surrounding rocks and from the Archean time to the present has been more stubborn than they in resisting the destructive activity of the weather. It must be left to future investigation to decide as to which alternative is to be preferred. Both may be true. Finally, the Kaumajet mountain-group, built on the gently undulating floor of the Complex, and showing a special composition and history, makes the fourth member in our scenic divisions. The stratified rocks forming the terraced slopes of the Kaumajets are the youngest solid- rock formations yet discovered on the northeast coast of the peninsula. No solid formation, with certainty repre- senting any of the lifetime of the earth from the earliest Paleozoic time to the present, has been found. In Labrador the net result of the geological activities of this incomprehensible zon appears to have been to demol- ish rather than to construct, to wear away old rock-terranes rather than to build new ones into the framework of this GEOLOGY AND SCENERY OF NORTHEAST COAST 118 part of the continent. During that time, to the westward and southward, the sea-bottoms of geological epochs accumulated muds, sands, and gravels aggregating many miles in thickness — the rock-materials that now compose the bulk of the emerged continent of North America. During that time, many volcanoes near the Atlantic, many others on the Pacific seaboard, were born, lived active days, and died, to leave more than a hundred thousand cubic miles of lava on plains and broken mountain-land. Dur- ing that time, the Appalachian mountain-system, stretch- ing from Newfoundland to Alabama, was hoisted to lofty heights again and again; each great uplift was followed by secular wasting that reduced the ranges to flat or rolling plains broken only by remnant hills or low peaks. During that time the Rocky Mountain region of the west was the scene of repeated mountain-building with a similar wastage of its ranges. During that time, the visible rocks under- lying the five million square miles of plain country between the Rockies and the Appalachians and extending from the Arctic to the Gulf of Mexico, were deposited on the bottom of America’s Interior Sea at a rate doubtless no more rapid than is now accomplished on the bed of the Atlantic. And yet, for all that immense interval in geological history, no bed-rocks have yet been discovered on the Labrador to tell us of the earth’s constructive activities in the region. Such formations may be found in the future, but it is already known that they cannot occupy large areas in the coastal belt. The layered rocks of the Kaumajets once covered much more territory than now; it may well be believed that, formerly, other extended mantles of bedded rock in like manner veneered the Basement Complex. But in I 114 LABRADOR no case can any one of these mantles furnish other than small patches on the old Basement. For millions of years the Labrador has been above the sea and has suffered the steady, patient onslaught of frost and rain and the delving of brooks and rivers — forces that, with the cumulative power of the ages, have laid bare, throughout the Labrador, the foundation of the world. Thus it has come about that the most ancient of forma- tions now lies in contact with the youngest that go to make up the geological record, the loose deposits of the geological “‘vesterday”’ and ‘‘to-day.” The “yesterday”’ is the Gla- cial Period; the “to-day” is the post-Glacial “Recent” Period. What remains of our brief account of Labrador’s scenic evolution has to do with these short but exceedingly important epochs. At the beginning of the Glacial Period the Labrador Pen- insula had essentially the main topographic features of the present time. Through the working of climatic causes whose relative efficiency is in lively discussion among geologists, a regional ice-cap many times greater than the well-known ice-field of Greenland gradually accumulated in north- eastern America. What seems to have been the region of greatest thickening in the ice-sheet was located on the height of land between James Bay and the St. Lawrence River. Thence the ice slowly flowed in all directions— to north, east, south, and west —— outward into the Atlantic off the Labrador, the maritime provinces and New England, ploughing the sea-floor as it moved; outward into Hudson Strait and across Hudson Bay, apparently filling that broad basin completely; outward across the Great Lakes, as far as the belt of moraines stretching from New York City GEOLOGY AND SCENERY OF NORTHEAST COAST 115 across New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, and so on to the plains of the Upper Mississippi Valley and Northwest Territories of Canada. The total area of this ‘ Labrador”’ or ‘‘Laurentian”’ ice-cap was over two millions of square miles. In the central part its thickness grew to be at least six thousand feet. There is evidence to show that even Mt. Washington (6288 feet in altitude), together with all other peaks of New England, was covered by the flooding ice. Investigation much less thorough than has been given to the Labrador glacier has suggested that similar, independent ice-caps were formed on the heights of Newfoundland and on the plateau northwest of Hudson Bay (the ‘‘ Keewatin”’ Glacier), each having centrifugal flow. The causes for the disappearance of the ice-sheets are as stimulating to debate among glacialists as the conditions that led to the growth of the glaciers. Fortunately for a scenographic account of the Labrador, these intricate theoretical questions need not detain us; suffice it only to note the fact that, after a period of prolonged activity, the ice gradually melted away. Not an acre of the old ice has been found on the mainland of North America. It is possible that the Grinnell Glacier, the relatively diminutive ice-cap of southern Baffin Land (Meta Incognita), repre- sents a still lingering portion of the mightier glacial flood, but so little is known of the Grinnell that a former connec- tion of the existing and the vanished ice-sheet cannot be asserted. On the contrary, it may be that the reported twelve hundred square miles of ice on the Meta Incognita belong to another independent centre of ice-accumulation. The solution to this problem and the interest which always 116 LABRADOR. attaches to a regional glacier will surely and amply repay the explorer who heads his steamer for Frobisher Bay. The Grinnell Glacier lies only a long half-day’s journey by steamer from Cape Chidley; in a sense it is at the very door of civilization, yet it is far less known than the ice of northern Greenland or the distant glaciers of Alaska. Whether or not the north land bears any remnant of the ice which once overwhelmed Labrador, the recency of the glacial retreat from the peninsula is most strikingly evident. This is especially true on the northeast coast, where the gla- cialist, no less than the worker in bed-rock, is blessed with that negative virtue of the earth’s surface, the absence of a -forest-cover. He who runs may read the glacial records from one end of the coastal belt to the other. _ To gain a vital idea of ice-work even on the Greenland scale or the Antarctic scale, one needs not the training of a professional glacialist. A first approach to the understand- ing of glaciers may be profitably made in the recognition of their analogy with rivers. Upstream, a river scours its channel, batters, grooves, and wears away the solid rock, so deepening its bed and in time excavating a valley of a size appropriate to the stream. In its lower course on flood-plain or delta, the river lays down the rock-fragments worn out of the rocky channel. Throughout the length of the river, increasingly, this débris, in the form of gravel, sand, or mud, is moving deltawards. A water-stream has thus three main functions — to scour, to carry the scoured rubbish down the valley, and then to deposit that same rubbish in lake or sea or other basin, where the stream’s velocity is finally checked. In like manner the gliding ice- stream, whether flanked by valley-walls or blanketing OSNOY] UOISSI] eTepodoyY ivdu [IH & WOl MdIA GEOLOGY AND SCENERY OF NORTHEAST COAST Sheed Chidley UNGAVA & BAY S w : = = ; 250 Nachvak Bay , * 5 Ge os 9 ap Vn 260 Hebron o os”... 265 Cape Mugford KAUMAJET MB... > JO ie os == 270 Gutthroat Tickle PSIG AUG Tig nse 285 Port Manvers NAIN no eT, .290' Ford Harbour eee 340° Quirk Tickle 7 a y, 390 ‘Hopedale « 355 Aillik Bay 345 Pomiadluk Point .... 265 Ice Tickle ..... Hamilton Inlet Zz —— > West Bay N pops (260) Gready SQ........(300) Domino Harbour ea Bi pete (325-40) Venison Tickle Sl BOSSE Francis Harbour 750+ Kirpon Harbour Fortune Bay te 505 C. Rouge Harbour ry) u ope } a... Greensponad NEWFOUNDLAND € z a - ip ) Loe 575) St John Fined Map showing by arrows the directions in which the ice of the Glacial Period moved. Numbers indicate in feet the amount of uplift since Glacial times. Scale, 200 miles to 1 inch. 118 LABRADOR half a continent, scours and grooves its rock-floor, removes loose rubbish, and attacks the solid rock, which slowly yet surely wastes under the heavy, creeping stream. In like manner, too, a moving ice-stream is freighted with “drift,” the débris of the wearing floor, and, finally, that débris is deposited downstream where the glacier current comes to an end. Alluvium is the “drift”? material of the river’s load; glacial “drift”? is the alluvium of an ice-stream. The alluvial deposits of the river in terrace, flood-plain, or delta are the “moraines”’ of the glacier. If a well-established, mature river should, through a change of climate, become dried up or greatly shrunken in volume, its scoured, boulder-strewn gorge, its terrace sands and clays and its delta would remain to tell the story of that river’s former activity as clearly as if the rushing waters had never ceased to flow. Such climatic changes have actually occurred in various parts of the world, so that, even in that respect, water-streams and ice-streams hold their analogy. All of these three principal activities of glaciers are memorialized with wonderful clearness on the Labrador. However, as might be expected from the fact that the pen- insula was the central region of dispersal for the ice-cap, the main effect of glaciation on the coast has been to abrade ~ the bed-rock and to carry away the loose product of the grinding to the ice-margin which lay far out on the bed of the Atlantic. The scenery, no less than the conditions ruling plant, animal, and human life on the coast, has been powerfully affected by this erosive work of the vanished glacier. To that phase of the glacial geology of Labrador the explorer’s attention is inevitably turned. GEOLOGY AND SCENERY OF NORTHEAST COAST 119 Among the first evidences to convince the observer of the extent, power,and recency of the glacial invasion is the character of the rock-ledges on all the coastal belt from Belle Isle to Cape Mugford. In pre-Glacial times there must have existed a deep soil and a heavy layer of weathered and decomposed rock over this entire area. The word “must’’ is none too strong if the Labrador mountains had wasted down after the manner of other old ranges, and there is every ground for believing that such was the case. In other words, we can find an analogy to the pre-Glacial range of the Labrador in, for example, the unglaciated southern Appalachian Mountains in which the granites and schists are so altered by secular weathering that the rock is friable and rotten for depths of hundreds of feet below the present surface. In Georgia or northern Alabama it can be proved that some of the rock-bands are weathering more rapidly than others; over the former the blanket of disintegrated rock is deeper than elsewhere. So it doubtless was in Labrador. When the ice-cap became thick and powerful, it slowly scoured and planed away the ancient soil with the under- lying layer of rotted rock. Under the enormous weight of the cap a half mile or more in thickness, the ice moulded itself into all the depressions. As the easily removed blanket of decayed rock was carried northeastward out to the Atlantic basin, not only was the general level of the country lowered, but it was lowered faster where the pre- Glacial decay of the rocks had been most pronounced. The energy and duration of the glacial scouring were such, that apparently all of this loose material was removed, leaving smoothed, hummocky hills and ledges of fresh, 120 LABRADOR unbroken rock to form the post-Glacial landscapes. Where the pre-Glacial cover of decayed rock was spe- cially deep, a trough or a rock-basin remained after the ice melted away. In this way the old valleys were irregularly deepened and new depressions were sunk; innumerable lakes and ponds were formed which to-day make the peninsula one of the great lake-districts of the world; and the coastal belt assumed its present aspect of singular raggedness. The diversity of relief in southern Labrador is nowhere more conspicuous than along the shore. When the ice finally disappeared, from mainland and invaded sea-floor, the ocean waters entered the maze of scoured troughs that open seaward. The ponderous flood of ice was replaced by the restless sea, flooding a perfect labyrinth of channels, straits, broad sounds, islands, skerries, and headlands. There is evidence, too, to show that the solid, fresh rock itself was attacked by the overriding ice. All rock is intersected by more or less abundant cracks or planes of weakness which divide it into blocks that may be rifted away. Just as the quarryman uses these rifting planes to remove slabs of marble, granite, or schist, so the Labrador glacier with the wedge of the frost, with bottom friction and shear, plucked out and carried off great blocks from its firm, unweathered floor. The photograph of the ‘“ice-worn surface near Aillik Bay ” illustrates a single example of this process which had an important share in the glacial remodelling of the topography. In the view, the smooth slope on the left represents the heavily scoured bed of the ice-sheet as it moved sea- ward from right to left. The pond fills a small rock- keg yMItv eau sdejANG U1OM-99] GEOLOGY AND SCENERY OF NORTHEAST COAST 121 basin produced by the glacial plucking away of many blocks of the fresh rock (gneiss) frozen into the ice, and so lifted and freighted off by the moving glacier. In the face of the low cliff can be discerned the planes of rifting and the outlines of several blocks that were in the very act of being plucked away as the ice disappeared from the country. It is an instructive case of natural quarrying. Ten thou- sand other examples on the coast would show quite as clearly that a glacier works with crowbar and crane as well as with gouge and chisel. Using all its powers, the ice-cap strongly modified the details of relief on the plateau of southern Labrador. In so reaching a principal conclusion from the glacial studies, let it not be forgotten that normal stream-cutting in pre-Glacial times produced the grand features of the sculpture. The energy of glacial attack is manifested not alone in the remodelling of plateau and valley ; its power leaves enduring records on the single ledge of rock. Observations on the living glaciers of the world show that they scour their beds not so much by the direct friction of ice against ledge as by the dragging of frozen-in boulders over the bed-rock. The pressure so applied is truly enormous. Deep grooves or shallower ‘“‘strize’”’ running in the direction of ice-flow are cut in the solid rock by such ‘“graving-tools.”’ Lime- stone, slate, trap, granite, or schist may be thus marked by scratches, furrows, or channels from a fraction of an inch to a foot or more in depth. They are not continuous mark- ings, but occur only where the wearing boulder has been pressed with irresistible might against the bare rock. Shallow and deep striations of the sort are to be found on 122 LABRADOR all the length of the Labrador; as elsewhere, they may be used to determine the directions in which the massive ice- cap flowed. Until the year 1900 striz were reported from not more than five localities on the coast. In that year the list was so far enlarged that 1t became possible to prove a seaward flow for the ice throughout the 750 miles of the shore. In Figure 17 arrows have been drawn to show the directions of this movement of the ice. Besides the scouring and quarrying, the Labrador ice- cap, like all other glaciers, carried out a programme of con- structive work. In southern and north-central Canada and in the northern United States, this activity furnishes for the glacial story a second chapter of even more positive importance than the chapter so briefly sketched for the Labrador. In northeastern Canada, as we have seen, the ice-sheet spent its energies chiefly in transporting to out- lying regions the abundant rock-rubbish won from the plateau in its polishing and latest sculpturing. That same drift was laid down in a broad zone of moraines and water- washed deposits of sand, gravel, and clay not far from the edge of the ice-cap. The rich farms of southern Ontario, southern Michigan, of Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, and other northern States of the Union are underlain by the broken and pulverized material that once composed the pre- Glacial cover of decayed rock in the region to the north and northeast. Through the glacial invasion those south- ern tracts have gained in the raw material of good soils at the expense of northern Michigan and Ontario, of Quebec and southeastern Labrador. With seemingly greater thoroughness the mantle of soil and disintegrated rock has been removed from the coastal GEOLOGY AND SCENERY OF NORTHEAST COAST 123 belt of northeastern Labrador. The resulting moraines and other loose deposits cannot be seen in anything like their full volume, for they are almost entirely buried beneath the waters of the North Atlantic. Only here and there within the coastal belt itself did some lingering, local ice-tongue build a small moraine to represent the immense accumulations that must have resulted from the strong glaciation of the coast. One such moraine has been described as a unique discovery during the voyage of the Brave. It was noted on the mainland opposite Copper Island near Seal Island Harbour. For the rest of the coast, so far as known, the glacial deposits consist either of very small patches of clay carrying boulders or of single boulders scattered over the bed-rock surface. All told, they form but a comparatively insig- nificant mass of loose material left irregularly distributed over the glacier-floor when the ice finally melted away. As the ice-sheet shrunk, the boulders gradually and quietly sank to their present resting-places. Many of the larger ones were delicately poised on their corners and now form “rocking-stones’’ which may be easily set swinging from side to side with the hand. But a picture of the Labrador in glacial times would be far from complete unless the imagination reconstruct the physical geography of the lofty northern mountain-ranges during that period. As far back as 1860 an American geol- ogist named Lieber noted on the mainland south of Cape Chidley “wild volcanic-looking mountains, . . . whose craggy peaks have evidently never been ground down by land-ice into domes and rounded tops.’ Dr. Robert Bell, after a brief visit to the Torngats, said of them: 124 LABRADOR “The mountains around Nachvak are steep, rough- sided, peaked, and serrated, and have no appearance of having been glaciated, excepting close to the sea-level. The rocks are softened, eroded, and deeply decayed. . . . Throughout the drift period, the top of the coast-range of the Labrador stood above the ice and was not glaciated, especially in the high northern part.” An exploration more prolonged than any permitted to either of the two geologists mentioned was carried on by the writer in 1900, and his observations entirely corroborate their conclusion. In the northern Torngat Mountains, all signs of general glaciation cease at the level of about 2000 feet above the sea. Above that level, the ledges are thoroughly shattered into angular fragments by the frost, and weathered to a deep brown colour strikingly different from the gray tints of the rounded ledges and boulders which have been scoured by the ice lower down the slope. The decompo- sition of the rock is doubtless something like that which affected all the ledges of the Labrador in pre-Glacial time. The 2000-foot contour also marks the upper limit at which ‘‘erratic” boulders, namely, those which have been surely carried from their parent ledges by ice, can be found. Thus in the Nachvak region the ice-sheet at its maximum during the Glacial Period was not more than one-third as thick as in southeastern Labrador, and filled these northern valleys to a height of about 2000 feet above the present level of the sea, but no higher. The ice of the local Nachvak Glacier was in largest part derived from the main interior ice-cap which flowed through a deep transverse cleft in the Torngat Range. Branch glaciers growing in the moun- keg yWeAUoeN JO WW UWeyINOS sy} ‘YaTTeL ey} OU! yyNOG suTyOO7] GEOLOGY AND SCENERY OF NORTHEAST COAST 1205 tains themselves swelled the volume of that trunk stream of ice. For fifty miles the latter glacier, like a broad, deep river, wound its way beneath the grand cliffs of the Torn- gats until it debouched in the open Atlantic. So it was with many other cross-valleys of the range; the Torngats stood like a lofty, turreted wall which the ice- Uf 7 / 7 Section across the south arm of Nachvak Fiord. Height (above sea-level) and depths (below sea-level) in feet. cap, thick as it was, could not surmount, but could only partially conquer by the easy routes of the passes. In all probability the tops of the Kaumajets and of the Kiglapait Mountains likewise stood well above the sur- face of the ice which must perforce flow round them in its journey to the sea. The glacial occupation of the Torngat valleys led to ex- ceptionally important changes in their pre-Glacial form, and to that modification we owe some principal elements in the impressive landscapes of the long inlets. These 126 LABRADOR eae huge tongues of ice, even more notice- 4, ably than the main ice-cap, have a scoured and quarried away the bed- rock. One result has been to widen and flatten the valley-floors, thereby steepening up the side slopes that be- longed to the normal river-cut canyons of pre-Glacial days. Over the cliffs many fine waterfalls are tumbling from side-valleys mouthing many hundreds 79 of feet above the sea-water of the in- lets. As usual, too, the rocks of the glacier-beds showed different powers of aos resistance to the pluck-and-scour of the ice and long, deep rock-basins were noe ploughed out in the bottoms that once ” possessed the uniform, smooth seaward SAIN F slope of river-made valleys. (See Figs. 18 and 19.) Thus, excavation by the 100 great local glaciers has been chiefly re- 85 sponsible for the peculiar and impressive 110 scenic quality of the fiords occurring be- ae tween Cape Mugford and Cape Chidley. A short but interesting chapter re- mains to complete the scenic history of the Labrador. Ice-cap and _ valley glaciers melted away and left the land sculptured into essentially its present form; left hill and valley, scoured rock, hollowed basins, ponded waters, and countlessrushingrapids and quiet reaches in the streams which were new-born on SWOHLY4 NI SHid3ad *SMOLIVN OY} 72 SI PLOY OY} JO YJNoW oy], “psOLYT YAYOUN Jo stxv oy} Suoje uoyoveg ‘ET ‘OIg 7aA31-v3s z > Ea BY (2) = a GEOLOGY AND SCENERY OF NORTHEAST COAST 127 the old glacial floors. At the close of the Ice Period, how- ever, the whole of the Labrador stood some hundreds of feet lower than it now stands with respect to the level of the sea. During the thousands of years which have since elapsed, the land has been slowly upheaved to that amount. All along the existing shore an irregular belt of land so emerged, and now bears with marvellous distinctness the traces of wave- action far above the present level of the Atlantic. Probably nowhere in the world are there more beautifully preserved relics of ancient shores. The absence of forest that might cover the records and the recency of the uplift contribute to the perfection of the display. We must add thereto the fact that it is precisely in just such a coastal region, exposed, as it was, to the full force of the ocean’s swell and the gales of a North Atlantic, that we should expect old shore-lines to be well marked. With truly dramatic force Nature has fulfilled the expectation and so afforded every observer on the Labrador a never failing source of interest and instruction. Again let it be called to mind that the study of any geo- logical fact in Labrador has a twofold significance. Many a stage in the physical evolution of the peninsula, or many a striking element in the landscape or underground struc- ture, is worthy of wonder and interpretation for its own sake — yet still more worthy if it be viewed as a sample of the structure, scenery, or stage of development that belongs to the earth’s crust asa whole. Much of the rugged beauty and charm of colour of the Labrador shore are due to the thorough washing, wearing, and frettingof the rocky hills as they emerged from beneath Atlantic waters in recent times. The beauty and charm gain in meaning and power 128 LABRADOR if the truth be recognized that all about the North Atlantic the same upward movement of the land has taken place. The shores of Maine, Quebec, Scotland, Scandinavia, and Finland are regions favoured by those who love the form and colour contrasts of the many-tinted sea with the massive, bold, or savage rocks still bearing marks of a late submerg- ence. On a larger scale and, in general, with much greater vividness than elsewhere in North America at least, the explanation of this peculiar scenery can be told and illus- trated on the Labrador, where, therefore, the beauty of such a shore, becoming a type of all, can be at once best _ appreciated and understood. A visit to the newest dry land of Labrador has yet sage value in giving one faith in the reality of the giant geo- logical forces. Throughout a human lifetime the earth seems stable; the human records of a thousand years seem to establish the same belief. It needs some such object-lesson as the emerged coastal zone of Labrador to show us finally that those ‘first impressions” are wrong, — that the Greek philosophers were right, though they knew not the name of geology, in claiming for the world an “ eter- nal flux of things.”’ The lesson speaks tellingly of the real instability of the sea-level, of massive, regional uplifts of the land, and of the growth of continents. On other grounds, for example, it is believed that the long coastal plain underlying the Atlantic States from New Jersey to Florida was once part of the bed of the ocean, but the belief founded on local discoveries at last reaches its full strength and overlaps actual knowledge when it can be shown beyond doubt or cavil that the sea-bottom elsewhere has been warped up to form new land. With unmistakable GEOLOGY AND SCENERY OF NORTHEAST COAST 129 directness and with lavish proofs this ground principle of geology is illustrated on the Labrador. The memorials of post-Glacial uplift are as diverse as the kinds of shore-line form which the waves of to-day are impressing on the hard rocks of the coast. Boulder beaches, gravel beaches and terraces, plains and pointed spits of wave- laid sand, sea-cliffs, splendid sea-caves and long chasms, even the dunes of sand blown up on these prehistoric shores, remain to tell us of just such activities as wind and wave dis- play on the present shore, the lowest of all those which the Atlantic has stormed and battered since the Glacial Period. Ocean waves are like rivers and glaciers in their ways of working. ‘They destroy or erode bed-rock; they transport the eroded débris; they deposit their freight of rubbish where the force of wave- and wind-driven current is lowered. Thus, in a sense, the gnawed and riven sea-cliffs correspond to the scoured glacier-bed or washed, abraded floor of the river-canyon; the beaches and spits, the bedded sand and mud of the sea-bottom correspond to moraines and to the deltas and alluvial plains of rivers. As the outer coastal belt of the Labrador slowly, with the deliberation of mil- lenniums, and urged by the mysterious, colossal, internal energy of a planet, rose out of the sea, the ocean-billows rolled in upon the changing shores, destroying where they could, constructing where they must. The visible signs of the submergence belong, therefore, to two classes of land- scape forms which give a real fascination to this most recent geology on the coast. The most widespread evidence of the destruction wrought by the waves on the old shore-lines can be found at almost any landing-place between St. John’s and Cape Chidley. K 130 LABRADOR It has been said that the ice-cap left but little of its drift on the surface of the Labrador plateau. The same state- ment is true of the contemporaneous glacial action on New- foundland. Yet in both lands enough “drifted” boulders were dropped on the smoothed and scoured bed-rock so that the whole floor of the glacier was pretty thickly peppered over with these products of ice-erosion. Noth- ing can be more evident on the low, bare, treeless hillsides facing the open Atlantic on Newfoundland or the Labrador than the absence of such boulders. Below the level of 500 feet above sea on the eastern shore of the island, and below the 250-foot contour on the Labrador, the vast ma- jority of the boulders have been swept from the slopes where the ice dropped them. Only a few of the very largest, too ponderous to be moved even by the superb onslaught of the North Atlantic ‘‘seas,’’ remain in or near their former positions. The rest are gone to the many boulder and gravel beaches left stranded, as it were, in the valleys of the emerging land, or at the present moment are being ground in the mill of the surf whither they have been dragged dur- ing the uplift. Hundreds of square miles of ice-worn hills of naked rock have been thus washed clean of glacial débris. Compare the two views of Bear Island. With special intensity those cleared surfaces are feeling Nature’s ceaseless attack. Exposed as they are to the open sky in a rigorous climate, the rocks of the wave-washed zone are being rent and shattered by the frost, which uses the rain-water of the present, has used the rains and the spray fling of former times, to split the rocks. Here and there the surface is clasped in the close embrace of many- hued lichens or covered by thicker growths of almost Glacial Boulders on a Ridge near Ice Tickle Harbour Bear Island, Wave-washed and then Uplifted GEOLOGY AND SCENERY OF NORTHEAST COAST 181 equally hardy mosses, but, in the main, the ledges seem as bare of vegetation as if the sea had retreated from them only yesterday. The bed-rocks of the Labrador are old-mountain rocks, toughened in the early days when they lay in the heart of the mountain-chain. They are giving pause to the greedy, unending assault of the ocean wave, which is finding on the present shore, as it found on the higher ones, that, while glacial boulders are playthings, the bed-rock offers work, — grim, arduous work that must continue many, many thousands of years before the stubborn head- lands will yield to the onset. For this double reason, first, the shortness of the time during which the emergence took place, and, secondly, the sturdy resistance of the solid rock to wave-battering, the newly emerged land bears relatively few strong cliffs or other scenic forms cut by the waves in the living rock. ~ Nevertheless, where favourably situated weak bands oc- curred in the formations of the old shores, the waves in- fallibly sought them out and at many points excavated strange caves and long, deep chasms along such seams of softer material. To-day, hundreds of feet above the sea, there may be seen these trenches floored with the tough boulders with which the breakers used to cannonade the coast. As one explores the silent, dark recesses, they seem haunted by unnumbered ghosts of the seas that once tore through the narrow gates and roared destruction to the walls of the ever deepening chasms. The finest of these great clefts in the hillsides are gener- ally located on the dikes of trap-rock that transect the schists or granites of the Basement Complex. As a rule, 132 LABRADOR the trap 1s more resistant to ordinary weathering and decay than the formation it cuts, but is less resistant than they to the more mechanical destruction of the sea-wave; thus a trap-ridge may be seen to terminate in a sea-chasm at the point where the rock has been under the mastering control of the pounding breakers. An easily visited example, one of relative antiquity as it lies close to the highest of the old shore-lines, is situated on a ridge a half mile northwest of Hopedale Mission House, at an elevation of 325 feet above the sea. This chasm, three hundred yards in length, faith- fully follows the line of a trap-dike crossing the ridge. An- other picturesque example is nearly as long, with an average - width of twenty feet and vertical depth of seventy-five feet ; it occurs on Long Island at American Tickle. Its excava- tion has been long under way, beginning when the land stood scores of feet lower than at present. The boiling waves still run nearly to the head of the chasm. Before the writer lies a photograph which shows the base of a torn and ragged sea-cliff overlooking a fine beach about 200 feet above the present sea-level. The boulders of the beach represent the wave-worn, rounded débris of the cliff. In the background is the old, uneven sea-bottom, now cov- ered with a slight vegetation and with moss-encircled lake- lets filling glaciated rock-basins. The scene before the photographer was wild and desolate, yet cheered and made beautiful by the wonderful blues of sea and sky and the no less exquisite purples of the atmosphere. Without the colour, the views might have been depressing; with it, there was much attractiveness in this spectacle of a primitive world restored from the sea. | The fact of the massive crustal upheaval of the Labrador GEOLOGY AND SCENERY OF NORTHEAST COAST 133 in recent times is still more forcibly emphasized by the thousands of boulder-beaches and other marine accumula- tions on the emerged land. The glacial drift and the an- gular fragments of rock torn from cliff and chasm were sorted, grouped, and graded by the waves many centuries ago, yet the resulting beaches very often look as if they had just been formed. Almost the only change that has affected their appearance since the last mad fling of the surf was dried upon them, is the growth of a thin and scat- tered coat of lichens upon the boulders. Next to a view of the reality no better proof of the remarkable preservation of the beaches or illustration of their perfect exposure can be had than the testimony of the camera. The photo- graphs of the raised beaches are examples, and not ex- ceptional ones at that, of the hundreds of beaches visited by the members of the Brave expedition in one season. Some of the most interesting exhibitions of beaches dis- covered at that time occur at Sloop Harbour (their eleva- tions above sea being 115, 140, 160, and 215 feet), at Aillik Bay, Hopedale, Pomiadluk Point (here measured eleva- tions of 55, 65, 230, 250, 315, 320, and 335 -feet), and at Port Manvers. In some of the beaches Packard has found the shells and skeletons of the animals which thronged the sea as the beaches formed. He records the discovery of a whale’s skeleton in marine clay fifty feet above the present high- water mark. The captain of the Brave reported, too, that he had found whalebones in a beach estimated to be one hundred feet above the same level. Packard states that these fossil remains are identical in character with the hard parts of species now living in the Arctic and North Atlantic. 134 LABRADOR ~ Where the glacial deposits had been unusually thick, still bulkier accumulations of sand and gravel were built by the waves in sheltered places. In the lee of many an island between Ford Harbour and Nain is an elevated spit which tails off from the island in beautifully even slopes from a few hundred feet to more than a mile in length. Often such a spit forms a continuous bar from one island to another. Other plateau-like sand deposits, as at Port Manvers, tie large islands to the mainland, or, in a unique case, underlie a true coastal plain of large size, as north of Cape Porcupine. The loose sands and clay of this plain have given foothold to a relatively extensive growth of scrub timber which, else- where, on the well-washed hills, finds little encouragement. Indeed, there is generally not enough soil on the outer shore to permit of the cultivation of vegetables; at some of the small ports in eastern Newfoundland, soil for the purpose has actually been imported in the form of ballast from England. So scarce is either soil or loose material of any kind that a settlement on the Labrador has almost invariably had to seek a raised beach, often composed simply of large boulders, as the only available site for the graveyard. | As an accurate, scientific description of scenery is neces- | ; sarily founded on geology, so geological principles have often been evolved or at least brought into clearer light by — | | the impressionistic influence of landscape. The extraordi- nary proofs of the recent upheaval of the Labrador cannot but force upon the visitor to the coast the question as to whether the elevating process still continues. The answer seems to be in the affirmative. ‘‘The almost universal belief of the old settlers on these shores is that in no other way can the changes in depth at familiar localities be ex- Raised Gravel Beach at West Bay, South Side of Entrance to Hamilton Inlet Half-tide View of the Shore at Ford Harbour GEOLOGY AND SCENERY OF NORTHEAST COAST 135 plained. With no theory to support or refute, many reputable observers among the fishing population state that they have time and again noted, during periods of from thirty to sixty years, cases where rock-ledges have come per- ceptibly nearer the sea-surface, where new channels have had to be sought among the shoals for the passage of their fishing-boats, and where the stages must be again and again lengthened over their bed-rock foundations in order to se- cure a depth of water sufficient to float their small craft. A gentleman of St. John’s has made a study of the question for forty years, and has come to the conclusion that eleva- tion is still in progress along the whole coast. He believes that the rate of uplift is about twice as rapid in northern Labrador as in Newfoundland. He has found among the older settlements of the island some where the inhabitants are in a very unfavourable position for plying their industry on account of the rim of just submerged rock-ledges that obstruct the harbours. He has asked the older men why they chose such locations for settlement. The reply was that they or their fathers had made these harbours when the conditions were very different from the present; namely, when the harbours were deeper. Such qualitative evidence, however great in amount, must yield in value to the testi- mony of even a few bench-marks carefully distributed along the coast.’’ Here, again, a most welcome contribu- tion to observational geology can be made by an expedi- tion which, by so placing bench-marks, can give the geolo- gists of the future a standard for the measurement of the rate of crustal movement. On quantitative observations, in geology no less than in all other physical sciences, hang all the law and the prophets. 136 LABRADOR The sea-coast phenomena apparently show that the epoch of emergence is not yet closed; with greater certainty they tell us of the extent of maximum submergence. With very close accuracy the highest, and presumably the oldest, of the shore-lines can be located along the prehistoric headlands and intervening bays. In the summer of 1900 the highest shore-line was approximately fixed at some thirty points on the 1100-mile journey from St. John’s to Nachvak. Its position gives a sort of measure as to how much of the Labrador scenery was given final form and colour by the wash and wear and beach accumulation in the shifting zone of the breakers. The discovery of the maxi- mum uplift has also a strong theoretical interest in adding to the observations that some day may suffice to solve the great problem of the cause of such broad upheavals of the earth’s crust. 3 The principle by which the highest shore-line was de- termined is a simple one. It was only necessary to seek out at the various landing-places the seaward facing hill- slopes which must have suffered strong wave attack in case they had slowly emerged from the sea in post-Glacial time. These slopes, when high enough, always show at once a vigorous contrast between the washed and unwashed zones. Above the highest shore-line, the glacial boulders dotting the treeless hillsides still le in practically their original positions. Below that line they have been swept away. The highest shore-line is, therefore, just below the boulder-limit, which, of course, has been driven by storm-waves a little higher than the high-water mark of the level sea. At this line the ‘‘fossil’’ beaches, cliffs, and chasms cease, and the smooth, boulder-dotted slopes begin. GEOLOGY AND SCENERY OF NORTHEAST COAST. 137 The map of Figure 17 gives a synopsis of the observations so far made on the present altitudes of the highest shore- line. The figures represent the number of feet through which the coastal belt at individual points has risen since the Ice Period. The illustration indicates ‘that the uplift on the Labrador has been greatest near Hopedale. Hamil- ton Inlet owes in part its depth, and indeed its very exist- ence as an inlet (it is but 10 fathoms deep at the Narrows), to the fact that the part of the plateau in which it lies has not been elevated as much as the land to north and to south. The line rapidly rises as it crosses the Strait of Belle Isle, and seems to be about 500 feet in height along the whole eastern shore of Newfoundland.” It is further clear that the uplift is a real and independent upward movement of the land and not a mere withdrawal of the sea-water, lowered, it may be, in the filling of distant troughs or basins formed by the recent subsidence of other parts of the ocean-floor. On the contrary, the evidence is unmistakable that ‘there has been unequal positive uplift of the earth’s crust. The force responsible for this great piece of work has been applied locally and in varying degree. The result is that to-day the actual distance from the centre of the earth of every point on the highest shore-line is greater than it was at the close of the Glacial Period.” Why has the earth’s crust been thus hoisted? Some geologists believe that the crust is elastic andsensitive, even to the load of an ice-cap, and that the upheaval of the Labra- dor is due to the lightening of the load on the crust when the massive glacier disappeared. It is certainly true that the recent uplift of the northern half of the continent has been most pronounced where the ice-load was presumably 138 | LABRADOR heaviest. The crust underlying northwestern Europe has behaved in a similarly suggestive way since the melting away of the thick Scandinavian ice-cap. The theory of - crustal sensitiveness is strengthened by this repeated oc- currence of the phenomenon, but as yet other explanations cannot be excluded. ‘The final unravelling of the mystery will be of prime importance in geological investigations as to the raising of mountain-chains and the increase of the continents. We cross the Strait of Belle Isle once more, homeward bound. Large questions are left to us. From Archean time as from the latest grand event in Labrador’s history, they rise to claim the attention of future generations of Nature’s students. That attention they will surely have, for the coast shares with other wild lands one greater value “than the best arable we have.” Old Jacques Cartier, searching for an Eldorado, found Labrador, and in disgust called it ‘the land of Cain.” A century and a half after- ward Lieutenant Roger Curtis wrote of it as “a country formedof frightful mountains, and unfruitful vallies, a prodi- gious heap of barren rock”; and George Cartwright, in his gossipy journal, summed up his impressions after five and twenty years on the coast. He said: “God created that country last of all, and threw together there the refuse of his materials as of no use to mankind.” | In our own day the artist and scientific explorer give us wiser counsels. We have at last learned the vital fact that Nature has set apart her own picture-galleries where men may resort if for a time they would forget human contri- vances. Itis good for man to be alone, good for him to puzjs] dools ‘anoqaepy Ajiway suryooj1sao ‘yoeeg pesiey GEOLOGY AND SCENERY OF NORTHEAST COAST 139 leave his fellows, very good to forget how to make or spend money. That man is unhuman who thinks of his income or his outgo above the snow-line or in the depths of a Colorado canyon. It is as if the pageant of earth’s history has left to the waste places some of its choicest settings. The great playgrounds of the world, — the high Alps, the Yosemite, the Selkirks, a Saguenay, — they are in large part desert, most providentially useless. And such a wilderness is Labrador, a kind of mental and moral sanitarium. The keen air of its midsummer is no more bracing to the nerves and sinews of the body than its quiet beauty and savage grandeur are stimulating to the powers of thought and ap- preciation. The beautiful is but the visible splendour of the true. The enjoyment of a visit to the coast may con- sist not alone in the impressions of the scenery; there may be added the deeper pleasure of reading out the history of the noble landscapes, the sculptured monuments of ele- mental strife and of revolutions in distant ages. CHAPTER V THE HAMILTON RIVER AND THE GRAND FALLS By A. P. Low Hamitton INET is the largest of the many long fiords which indent the Atlantic coast. Like the others, it is very deep, and is surrounded by high hills, often rising a thousand feet sheer from the water, while its surface is frequently broken by large, bold, rocky islands. The lower slope and islands are wooded with dark spruce mingled with the lighter-coloured birch and aspen, forming a pleas- ing contrast with the bare rocks of the summits. The distance, from the hospital station of Indian Harbour at its mouth, in a southwest direction to the head of the inlet, is slightly over one hundred and fifty miles, while its aver- age breadth is fourteen miles. Forty-five miles above the entrance, the inlet narrows and is only about a mile wide for upwards of five miles. During each change of tide a strong current with rapids occurs at this point. Rigolet, the headquarters of the Hudson’s Bay Company for the Atlantic coast, is situated on the north side of the lower part of the narrows. A village of Eskimo, made up of a cluster of small log houses, occupies the shore of a small cove at the upper end; its chief interest lies in the fact that it is the most southerly community of these people. The inhabitants have been long in contact with the white men, and have acquired many of the virtues and vices of civilization. 140 THE HAMILTON RIVER AND THE GRAND FALLS 141 YSAl Y NOLIINVH 142 LABRADOR The inlet gradually widens above the narrows into Lake Melville, which is fifteen miles across in its widest part. The eastern third is full of wild, rocky islands. The Mealy Mountains rise directly from its southern shores. The northern side is also high, but there is often a wide margin of low land between the water and the rocky wall of the fiord. Northwest River enters on the north side, about eighty miles beyond the narrows. The stream is only about one hundred yards wide at its mouth, but averages fifteen feet in depth. Half a mile upstream it expands into a small lake, which, three miles farther up, again con- tracts for four hundred yards to form the outlet of Grand Lake, a large body of fresh water extending westward some forty miles, in a deep valley between high, rocky walls. A Hudson’s Bay post is situated at the mouth of North- west River. It consists of some half a dozen small log buildings. Early in the last century this was an im- portant place, the residence of the chief factor in charge of Labrador. It then had a large farm attached, where oats and vegetables were easily grown. Its importance was greatly diminished by the abandonment of the inland posts in the seventies, and later the Indians trading there were induced by missionaries to take the proceeds of their winter’s hunt to the posts on the north side of the St. Lawrencé, so that at present the trade of the post is exclusively with the whites living about the inlet. Here also is a fur-trading station of Revillon Fréres of Paris. Almost opposite the mouth of the Northwest River on the south side of Lake Melville is Carter’s Basin, a small bay into which empty the Kenamou and Kenamich rivers. THE HAMILTON RIVER AND THE GRAND FALLS 148 The former is much the larger, and drains an extensive area of the highlands to the southwest. It is very rapid and practically unnavigable. Above Northwest River the inlet has been silted up by sand brought down and deposited there by the Hamilton River, which flows into the head of the inlet. A long, narrow point stretching out from the north shore just above the Northwest River divides the shallows from the deeper portion of the inlet; the upper part is called Goose Bay, and extends twenty miles to its head, which receives a small river, famous for the large brook trout taken about its mouth in the autumn months. There is here a large lumber mill belonging to the Grand - River Lumber Company. Their “loggers” penetrate far into the country along the river valley. Besides their build- ings, small log houses are scattered along the shores of the inlet, wherever the ground is sufficiently level for a small garden; these are the winter houses of the white people who reside permanently on the Atlantic coast. They are ealled “planters” or “‘livyeres,” to distinguish them from the summer fishing population from Newfoundland. The planters are largely descendants of settlers brought out from England for the salmon-fisheries. Some of their ancestors were among the original settlers who came to Sandwich Bay with Cartwright in 1770; others are de- scended from servants of the Hudson’s Bay Company. They are all poor and hopelessly in debt, either to the Hudson’s Bay Company or to Newfoundland fishing firms, so that these people have little hope or ambition to better their condition. Their life is fairly happy and close to nature. The sea supplies fish freely; their gardens, potatoes, From the proceeds of their summer’s cod-fishery 144 LABRADOR and winter’s fur hunt, they obtain food and clothing, to- gether with a few “luxuries.” Early in the summer they leave their houses on the inlet for the outer coast, where they engage in the cod-fishing, usually with nets and gear provided by some Newfoundland fishing firm. As a rule, the amount of fish caught does not pay for the advances of provisions and clothing at the prices charged by the merchants, so they get deeper and deeper in debt year by year. At the close of the cod-fishery they return to their houses on the inlet, stopping on the way at the Hudson’s Bay posts, where they receive other advances of provisions and clothing to be charged against their coming winter’s hunt. Arriving home, they dig their potatoes and catch and freeze trout, which swarm in the mouths of all the streams at this season. As soon as sufficient snow falls, they set their traps for marten, fox, otter, lynx, and other fur-bearing animals. Each hunter has a “path” or line of traps fifty miles or more in length. A single winter visit to all the traps on the line may involve a week’s journey. Small “shacks” or shelters, where the hunters may pass the night, are built at convenient distances along the path. With the advent of spring, the skins get out of condition, and the fur path is abandoned for the seal hunt. These animals are killed by shooting them on the ice, where they come up through cracks and holes to bask in the sun. Later, when the ice leaves, they are caught in heavy nets. By the time the seal hunt is over, the garden dug, and potatoes planted, it is time to go to the outer coast for the cod-fishery. This is the yearly round of the planter, It applies all THE HAMILTON RIVER AND THE GRAND FALLS 145 along the Labrador, except that nowhere else can vege- tables be grown, owing to the settlements being nearer to the Arctic current on the outside coast. Although it may not appeal to many, it is a much better and freer life than is the lot of the poor in civilization, with its monotonous daily grind for a mere subsistence. As regards the chances of sport about Hamilton Inlet, the summer season is unfavourable, there as well as else- where. The big game consists of barren-ground and woodland caribou, black bear, and seals. Caribou are found in small bands on the Mealy Mountains immediately south of Lake Melville, while in the winter large bands of barren-ground caribou come out on the coast to the north- ward, and have been killed in great numbers within a few miles of the inlet. Bears are found on the burnt areas, where they feed on blueberries in the late summer. The seals, especially the harbour seal, are common in the waters of the inlet, and often afford good sport with the rifle. Wild fowl and geese are very abundant in the spring and fall, and are killed in great numbers below Rigolet. The curlew, which formerly passed in great flocks on their migration southward, are now nearly extinct; the Canada grouse, or spruce partridge, is abundant about the head of the inlet, and the ruffed grouse is also common. During the winter, great numbers of willow ptarmigan migrate southward and feed in flocks on the willow buds in the valleys. Hamilton Inlet was once famous for its salmon-fishery, but the use of numerous cod-traps along the coast has practically exterminated the salmon, as far as concerns rod-fishing in the rivers. I have visited the inlet in October, L 146 Ba LABRADOR and can vouch for the excellence of the trout-fishing from that time until the ice becomes so thick that it is impossible to cut holes through it. Dr. Grenfell reports that the trout bite freely all summer. The fish appear to be sea-run, al- though their sojourn in salt water is probably short, for they do not lose their markings as do the trout of the St. Lawrence. Large fish, up to six and seven pounds in weight, are caught in the lower stretches and at the mouths of all the streams flowing into Melville Lake, and take the fly freely until the waters freeze over. My knowledge of the Hamilton River from its mouth to the Grand Falls is con- fined to the conditions prevailing in late winter and early spring. We left Northwest River early in March and reached the falls on the 1st of May. The great length of time taken on the trip was due to our small party having to draw on sledges the outfit, tents, canoes, and provisions sufficient for the following summer’s work in the interior. This amounted to four loads of two hundred pounds for each member, and a consequent sevenfold lengthening of the original distance of two hundred and fifty miles. The Hamilton River is the most important stream of the eastern watershed of the peninsula. It-is upwards of five hundred miles in length, and extends westward halfway to Hudson Bay. To the north and west its tributaries interlock with those of the Northwest River and with the head waters of the George and Koksoak rivers, both of which flow north into Ungava Bay, while to the south the Hamilton is separated by a low, sinuous watershed from the rivers flowing southward into the Gulf of St. Lawrence: -- At the Grand Falls, some two hundred-and fifty miles abeve its mouth, the river is naturally divided into* two THE HAMILTON RIVER AND THE GRAND FALLS 147 parts which are quite dissimilar in physical character. The lower part occupies a deep, ancient valley, cut down into the hard, crystalline rocks of the plateau, so that the present level of the river is from five hundred to one thou- sand feet below the general level of the surrounding country. This deep valley varies in width from one hundred yards to more than two miles between the rocky walls. The river flows with a strong current often broken by rapids, espe- cially along the upper stretches. Only in one place has it a direct fall over a rock obstruction, and that is at the Muskrat Falls, twenty-seven miles above its mouth, where a dam of glacial drift has diverted the stream from its ancient course and has caused it to find a new channel on the south side of a rocky knoll where the river falls seventy feet over ledges in a distance of four hundred yards. The greater part of the valley below the Grand Falls has been burnt over by frequent fires, which have destroyed much of the original forest of spruce, its place being taken by small second-growth aspen, white birch, and spruce. Where the original forest remains, the trees are fair-sized and of commercial value, in marked contrast to the stunted spruce found partly covering the rolling surface of the plateau above the valley on both sides. The river varies in width, and usually only partly fills the bottom of the valley, being confined between banks of sand or glacial drift form- ing the soil of the bottom. A reference to the accompany- ing map shows that the river valley as far as the junction of Minipi River, eighty miles upstream, conforms in its southwesterly direction with that of Hamilton Inlet (Lake Melville). The general direction then changes to west- northwest, and so continues to the Grand Falls. A more 148 . LABRADOR detailed account of the various courses and characteristics of the valley than can be given here may be found in my report, and might be consulted by any ai visitor to the falls.’ The river flows into the head of Lake Melville on the south side of Goose Bay, and is separated from it by a long, low, sandy point. The mouth of the river is obstructed by wide shoals with numerous narrow channels between them. These continue for about ten miles, where the stream is about a mile wide and gradually narrows to Muskrat Falls. Above the falls there is a steady current for fourteen miles to the foot of Porcupine Rapids, which are nearly three miles long. Good tracking along the banks with deep water makes the ascent easy. An expansion called Gull Island Lake extends six miles from the head of Porcupine Rapids to the foot of the next rapids. In the next twenty miles, to the mouth of the Minipi, the valley gradually narrows, leaving very little bottom-land between the river and its rocky walls. This portion of the river is very rough and almost a continuous rapid. Ascending the stream, Gull Rapids extend for nearly five miles above the lake, with shallow water and great boulders obstructing the channel. The second, or Horseshoe Rapid, is at the sharp bend to the southward; it also is shallow and filled with boulders. The river now contracts to about one hundred yards in width, and deepens, so that although the current is swift, the surface is broken only for a short distance below the junction of the Minipi, where a short portage may be necessary to pass the head of the rapid. 1 Report on Labrador Peninsula, A. P. Low, Ann. Rep. Geol. Survey of Canada, Vol. VIII, Part L, 1895. : JOAIY UOYIWeH oy} ul spidey THE HAMILTON RIVER AND THE GRAND FALLS 149 Above the Minipi the valley soon widens, and varies from one to two miles across the bottom. The rocky walls rise from seven hundred feet to nine hundred feet above the water, while the glacial drift in the valley has been cut by the river into terraces, which are seen flanking the walls at heights ranging from twenty feet to two hundred and fifty feet. The navigation is good for the next forty miles, the even current of the river being broken only by a few short rapids not difficult to ascend. A number of very beautiful stretches are seen along this portion, where the channel is divided by islands covered with thick green forest, giving contrast with the bare rocky walls down which a number of small tributaries tumble in feathery cascades. The valley again contracts, and for eighteen miles, to its outlet from Winokapau Lake, the current is swift, and the river broken by a number of rapids, making the ascent difficult, but probably entailing portages only at a few short pitches. The entrance to the lake is impressive; the walls of the valley are less than a quarter of a mile apart, and tower in sheer cliffs for a thousand feet above the stream. The change from the foaming rapids of the outlet to the quiet surface of the lake is especially pleasing to the somewhat wearied traveller. Winokapau Lake is thirty miles long and varies from one mile to two miles and a half in width; its waters fill the valley from wall to wall. The lake is remarkably deep, isolated soundings giving over four hundred feet; only a few soundings were made during our passage, as the ice was then four feet nine inches thick, and two hours of hard work were required to put a hole through it. The upper 150 LABRADOR end of the lake is shallow, being filled with sand brought down by the river. The Hudson’s Bay post was situated on a sandy plain near the inlet; it was abandoned in 18738, and subsequently destroyed by fire. The old journals of this post show that the first snow fell about September 20th and remained until the following June. The lowest tem- perature recorded was — 55° F. Geese, ducks, and sum- mer birds arrived about the 10th of May and were killed in large numbers in the open water at the head of the lake. In the autumn and winter, ptarmigan were very abundant, while caribou and bears were frequently killed in the valley and on the surrounding plateau. The spring catch of fish was always notable, white fish and trout being taken in large numbers in nets set about the post. In the summer, all the inhabitants used to go in canoes with the winter’s fur to the post at Northwest River. Before leaving the place, potatoes and turnips were planted and left to the care of Nature until the return of the traders in September ; it is not surprising that the comments on the crops were unfavourable. ‘The river is easily navigable from the head of Winokapau Lake to the Grand Falls portage, situated on the north side of the river some forty-five miles upstream, at the foot of a continuous rapid, which extends several miles to the mouth of Bowdoin Canyon. In order to pass the Grand Falls, and reach the upper part of the river, the valley must be left at the foot of the rapids, where a portage, up the bed of a small tributary, rises abruptly seven hundred feet and then, by gradual ascent for two miles, leads to a small lake on the level of the plateau. The route then leads through fourteen small THE HAMILTON RIVER AND THE GRAND FALLS 161 lakes connected by as many portages, and ends in an ex- ' pansion of the river immediately above the rapids leading to the falls. This route is over twenty miles in length, and more than one-fourth is on portages. To obtain a view of the falls, the river must be crossed at the end of the portages and the far bank descended past the rapids, where an excellent view may be obtained, from the top of the wall enclosing the circular basin, into which the river falls. A descent may here be made into the canyon, with less difficulty and risk than are incurred in descents from the near bank. Our party, from what I can learn, was the only one to view the falls from that side. It must have been a great disappointment to the others, after their long trip, to have seen the falls only from the east side, where no adequate view can be obtained. This warning is in- tended especially for the visitor who might decide, owing to the difficulty of the portages, to leave his canoes at the lower end of the portages and tramp overland to the falls. ‘The distance, between the lake expansion at the upper end of the portage route and the mouth of Bowdoin Canyon, is eight miles in a straight line running south-southeast. The river at the upper end of this line has an elevation of sixteen hundred and sixty feet above sea-level, a little below the general level of the surrounding country. Where it issues from the canyon into the main valley, it is nine hundred feet above the sea; there is thus a drop of seven - hundred and sixty feet in a distance, by the river, of less than twelve miles. Considering the volume of the stream, estimated at fifty thousand cubic feet per second, this is a phenomenal descent. If the energy developed by the fall could be turned into work, it would produce the enormous 152 LABRADOR amount of upwards of four million three hundred thousand horse-power. Neglecting the rapids above and below the falls and confining the calculation to the power of the falls itself, we. find that it would develop energy equal to one million seven hundred thousand horse-power, an amount sufficient to operate a large proportion of all the manu- factories and railways of Canada. For a mile downstream from its lakelike expansion, the river is dotted with small, rocky islands, covered with small evergreens. The great stream is thereby broken into a number of narrow channels with swift current. The river then narrows to less than four hundred yards, and for a mile passes over a number of rocky ledges between low, wooded banks, falling fifty feet in a succession of rapids. It again widens to nearly a mile, and flows swiftly between small islands for two miles; then, turning southeast, it contracts to less than half its previous width and rushes along with heavy rapids in a shallow channel obstructed by huge boulders. In this manner the river continues for two miles, gradually narrowing as it descends. The banks and bottom are solid rock, and the stream in the next mile has cut a narrow and gradually deepening trough, so that, at the lower end of the course, it dashes through a gorge about fifty yards wide with steep walls, one hundred and ten feet below the level of its upper end. In the last three hun- dred yards the grade is very steep, where the confined waters rush along in a swirling mass, thrown into enormous, — long, surging waves, at least twenty feet high, the deafening noise of which completely drowns the heavy boom of the great falls immediately below. With a final great surge the pent-up water is shot down a steep incline for a hundred THE HAMILTON RIVER AND THE GRAND FALLS 153 feet, where it breaks into a silvery mass and plunges into a circular basin two hundred feet below. The momentum acquired during the descent of the slope is sufficient to carry the mass of water far out from the perpendicular rocky wall, leaving at the bottom an almost free passage between the foot of the cliff and the falling water. Owing to the dense column of spray which rises continuously from the basin to a height of nearly a thousand feet, it is impossible to obtain a clear photograph of the cascade. , The trees on the slopes about the falls are largely white spruce upwards of seventy feet in height, while the icicles fringing the foot of the ice-covered walls (on the first of May) were more than fifty feet in length. Owing to the refraction of the ice which flashed the sunlight into all the colours of the spectrum, the spectacle was most gor- geous. The total height of the falls, from the crest of the incline to the basin, is three hundred and two feet; in shape it resembles on a gigantic scale a stream flowing through a V-shaped trough and issuing freely from its lower end. The basin at the bottom is nearly circular, with a diameter of two hundred yards. The rocky walls surrounding it rise perpendicularly five hundred feet, except at a narrow cut at right angles to the falls where the waters pass out into Bowdoin Canyon. The surface of the basin is continuously agitated by the rush of waters and huge, lumpy waves leap high upon its rocky walls. The stunning noise of the fall and the wonderful display of energy are so awe-inspiring that there is a feeling of dread in ap- proaching the brink, and the Indians cannot be induced to visit the neighbourhood. 154 LABRADOR Bowdoin Canyon was so named by Cary and Cole, who discovered it in 1891. Issuing from the basin at the foot of the great cascade, the river zigzags in half-mile courses to the east and southwest until it finally issues into the main valley. The distance from the falls to the mouth of the canyon is eight miles in a straight line, but by the river it is more than twice that distance. The canyon is cut sharply and nearly perpendicularly out of the granites and other crystalline rocks to a depth of over five hundred feet below the general surface of the plateau. The zigzag courses of the gorge conform with the directions of two sets of jointage planes, which split the granites into huge blocks in the area below the falls. The cracks appear to influence the direction of the river courses, and to have greatly as- sisted the water in clearing out the gorge. The canyon is probably a new valley excavated by the river since the Glacial Period. The ancient river which, in pre-Glacial time, flowed down the main valley seems to have been diverted by dams of glacial drift and perhaps by local changes of level, so that it now flows on the surface of the plateau to the north of the old valley. On reéntering the old valley with such a tremendous fall, the river has cut out the canyon in a comparatively short period of time. The break in the surface of the plateau is so sharp that an approach to within a few yards of the edge may be made without any indication of its presence, the first warning being the hoarse roar of the rapids far below. Across its top the gorge rarely exceeds a hundred yards; at the bottom the river is confined to a width of a hundred feet. The difference in level between the water in the basin and that issuing into the main valley is two hundred and sixty feet, THE HAMILTON RIVER AND THE GRAND FALLS 155 and this descent is in a continuous rapid by the pent-up stream. Above the Grand Falls the character of the river changes completely ; it now flows nearly on a level with the surface of the plateau, spreading out to fill the valleys between the long, low ridges, arranged en échelon over the country. The river in passing around the ridges is often broken into several channels by large islands; in other places where the valleys are wide, it spreads out into long, irregular lakes studded with islands. The current, instead of flowing regularly, alternates between short rapids and long lake stretches. The banks are usually low, and covered with a dense growth of willows, which form a wide fringe between the water and the spruce trees covering the higher ground behind. The general direction of the river is west-north- west from the Grand Falls to Petitsikapau Lake, more than a hundred miles above. Throughout this distance its course is nearly parallel to the direction of the glacial strie and to that of the ridges of glacial drift. All these features give an aspect of newness to the upper part of the river, and indicate that its present course and condition have been determined by the post-Glacial configuration of the plateau. The first expansion above the portage is called Jacopie Lake. It is seven miles long by about two miles wide, and is surrounded by low, rocky hills partly burnt over. A stretch of eight miles of swiftly flowing river connects with the island-dotted Flour Lake, which is ten miles long with deep bays leading off on both sides. At its head the river enters by two nearly equal channels, which unite again in Sandgirt Lake, some fifteen miles above. The north 156 LABRADOR channel leads through Lobstick Lake, where a long bay passes northward and connects the spring at high water with Lake Michikamau on the head waters of the Northwest River. The south channel is the ordinary canoe route between Flour and Sandgirt lakes. Sandgirt Lake is an irregular, shallow body of water, with many islands of drift. It is twelve miles long from the southern outlet to the mouth of the Ashuanipi branch. Owing to the number of canoe routes which centre here, the lake is an important gathering place for the Indians of the interior. The Hamilton River divides into two branches, the larger, or Ashuanipi, flowing from the northwest and the Attikonak from the south. The principal route from Hamilton River to Michikamau Lake and northward also ends here. The Indians who pass the winter hunting in this region congregate at Sandgirt Lake shortly after the ice leaves the river, and thence proceed in company south- ward to the Hudson’s Bay Company posts situated on the north shore of the Gulf of St. Lawrence. The Attikonak branch of the Hamilton flows into the southern part of Sandgirt Lake, where it has about half the volume of the other branch. It takes its rise in Attikonak Lake, close to the southern watershed; thence a portage leads to the upper waters of the Romaine River flowing into the Gulf of St. Lawrence. From Sandgirt Lake to the south end of Attikonak, the distance by river is about one hundred and fifty miles, and the stream is practically a succession of long, narrow lakes connected by stretches of rapids. The country through which it flows is broken by low hills of rock and ridges of drift, with much low, swampy land between. The lowlands are covered Two Views of Bowdoin Canyon THE HAMILTON RIVER AND THE GRAND FALLS 157 with small trees, chiefly black spruce, along with larch and balsam fir. Lake Attikonak is upwards of forty miles long, and is so covered with islands that no idea of its shape or width is obtained by a passage through it. Its water is clear but brownish, and does not appear to be very deep. The Ashuanipi, or main branch of the Hamilton, enters Sandgirt Lake on its west side. The river flows from the northwest for seventy-five miles in a wide valley, broken by long ridges, which cut the stream into a perfect labyrinth of channels connecting irregularly shaped lake expansions. An intelligent detailed description of the watery maze is almost impossible, and would be too long for the present chapter. A few miles above Sandgirt Lake the granites and gneisses give place to bedded sandstones, limestones, and shales, with which are associated bedded iron ores. These rocks have a remarkably close resemblance to the iron formations of the south and west of Lake Superior, and there is reason to believe that, in the future, important deposits of iron ore will be found along the upper Hamilton River. A change in the physical features follows the change in the rocks; the rocky hills become higher and sharper, while the ridges are longer and much less broken, causing the valley to be walled in between rocky barriers that rise from three hundred feet to five hundred feet above its surface. With the change of soil there is a surprising change in the trees. These increase in size; and the monotonous forest of small black spruce gives place to a more diversified one of white and black spruce, balsam fir, larch, balsam, aspen, poplar, and white birch, all growing in the valley and on the sides of the hills. This portion of the river is a 158 LABRADOR paradise for fishermen; the swiftly flowing water, in the numerous channels connecting the lake expansions, swarm with large brook trout greedy for any description of lure, from a salmon-fly to a bit of red flannel on a cod-hook. More fish were taken with cod-hooks by the canoemen than I could catch with the regulation rod and tackle. The deep, quiet eddies and the foam-covered spots at the foot of rapids are the resort of lake trout reaching more than twenty pounds in weight. In the rapids the game ouaniniche, or land-locked salmon, may be easily captured with a fly. Whitefish are also seen bobbing about in the thick foam, and take an artificial May-fly; as they jump and fight as fiercely as the ouaniniche, they afford good sport, but, being very tender in the mouth, they are often lost. The willow ptarmigan and Canada goose breed abundantly in this region. The flocks of unmated geese lose their wing-feathers in the summer, and, being unable to fly, may be chased ashore and captured, usually after a most exciting run. Caribou may be secured with little trouble. Bears are not very numerous. At the head of the long northwest course, a short stream leads into Lake Petitsikapau, a large, irregularly shaped body of water, separated by a rocky ridge from the head waters of the George River, flowing north into Ungava Bay. On its shore is situated the ruins of Fort Nascaupee, established by the Hudson’s Bay Company in 1842, and. abandoned in 1873. The ruins stand in a small clearing close to the edge of the lake. The houses were built of small, squared logs with sawn-board roofs. The main building is about twelve by eighteen feet, with a low attic. Smaller buildings adjoined the house on both sides, and were prob- THE HAMILTON RIVER AND THE GRAND FALLS 159 ably used as kitchen and shop. The foundation of an- other small building about twenty yards in the rear is probably the remains of the servants’ house, while the powder-magazine, half buried in the ground, stands farther back. Adjoining is a small burying-ground with a large cross in the centre; no marks were found on the graves. In the attic of the main building a fragment of the Albion of March 7, 1846, was found. Close to the house are several patches of rhubarb in a flourishing condition. The whole forms the ruined remains of what corresponded to a typical inland post of to-day, as, for example, those of Nichicun and Mistassini. Such a post isin charge of a postmaster, usually graduated from the ranks of the superior servants of the larger posts, and married to an Indian woman. He has generally two or three Indians or half-breeds under him, and these with their families make up the settlement. Owing to the great distances from the coast and the diffi- culties of transportation, the amount of civilized provisions brought in is small, and the daily ration is very meagre. About one pound of flour per day falls to the share of each family, with tea and sugar in proportion, so that all must look to the country for food. This is largely provided by nets, as the posts are always located conveniently to some good fishing lake. Ptarmigan and other game birds provide most of the flesh, supplemented with caribou, bear, beaver, lynx, muskrat, and rabbits. At Nichicun potatoes will not grow in the short summer season, and this was probably the case at Nascaupee, so that the farinaceous food was limited to the family share of the daily pound of flour. The life at an inland post is a lonely one. With the departure of the ice in spring, the 160 LABRADOR band of Indians belonging to the post congregate with their furs, which are soon packed in bundles of one hundred pounds and loaded into large bark canoes-for the voyage to the coast. All the active males are required as canoemen, leaving behind only the very aged, cripples, and children. Many of the women accompany the brigade in small canoes ; the remainder scatter about the lakes to convenient fishing places. The post is practically abandoned until the return of the brigade, late in the summer, with canoes deeply laden with provisions, ammunition, and goods for the next season’s trade. A few days after the arrival, each Indian has received his outfit and departs for his winter hunting- grounds, leaving the inhabitants of the post to themselves. The early fall_is employed in securing a supply of trout and whitefish for the winter, and nets are set on the spawn- ing-grounds for the fish. This ends the work of the year, and everybody becomes a trapper of fur until Christmas time. With the new year, the cutting of fire-wood for the coming year is commenced; the wood is drawn home with dog-teams. As the spring approaches, the canoes are mended and preparations made for the annual trip to the coast, which is eagerly anticipated, as it means the annual mail and contact with civilization. The Ashuanipi, at the entrance to Petitsikapau, bends sharply to the south, where it flows out of a large lake of the same name, situated near the southern watershed, close to the head waters of the Moisie River, which flows southward into the Gulf of St. Lawrence. The distance from the bend to the head of the lake is upwards of one hundred and fifty miles, about half of which is un- surveyed. THE HAMILTON RIVER AND THE GRAND FALLS 161 In closing this brief description of the Hamilton River, a few words of advice may be given to intending visitors. At the present time no facilities exist on Hamilton Inlet for a trip inland. The white men living about the inlet are unaccustomed to canoes, and use heavy sea-boats for their short trips inland. For an extended journey to the in- terior, canoes are required, and, in my experience for such work, the best are built of cedar; these are nearly as light as the Indian bark canoes, and are much more enduring. They should be built larger and deeper than the ordinary pleasure canoe, which is an abomination on a serious ex- ploratory trip. A good size is nineteen feet long, forty inches wide, and about eighteen inches deep. Such a canoe will take a load of twelve hundred pounds with the crew of three or four persons, without danger, through heavy rapids and across windy lake stretches, where the ordinary canoe could not venture. These canoes weigh about one hundred and twenty-five pounds, and are easily carried by two men. An ordinary camp equipment, in- cluding mosquito tent and plenty of good blankets, is all that is required. The provisions should be as simple as possible, consisting chiefly of pork, bacon, flour, and beans, along with tea and sugar. Condensed foods may be good for rations on forced marches, where nothing else is avail- able, but they are highly unsatisfactory to canoemen work- ing hard upstream, who must have a full weight of three pounds of solid food a day. A few tinned luxuries may be taken if the trip does not exceed six weeks in duration, — a good rule to follow is an allowance of three pounds per man, together with the limit of four hundred pounds’ weight for each canoeman ascending a river, so that if two men M 162 LABRADOR are engaged in propelling the canoe, the load should not greatly exceed eight hundred pounds in weight. As the whites know nothing about river work, and the Indians are few and unreliable, it 1s necessary to secure canoemen in Canada, and take them along to Hamilton Inlet. On my trips through the country, I have used Indians and French half-breeds from the Lake St. John district of Quebec, and have found them good, willing, and reliable men. Similar men may be obtained through the officer in charge of any of the Hudson’s Bay Company’s posts along the frontier. Fish are plentiful in the rivers, especially above the Grand Falls, and a net set nightly affords great assistance in securing the surprising amount of food re- quired by a party of able-bodied men. No reliance should be placed upon the killing of game during the summer months, and if by good luck caribou or bears are met with, it is easy to throw away a corresponding amount of pro- visions, but a sufficient supply for the entire trip should be taken in case of ill luck; this is an essential matter, as more parties have had to turn back from the northern wilderness owing to lack of food than from other reasons. A good supply of provisions means good-natured canoe- men, willing to go anywhere without a thought of danger, whereas the suspicion of starvation will change the same men into a discontented, mutinous crew. Mr. Leonidas Hubbard, subeditor of Outing, lost his life in 1903 in this district from starvation. His assistant, Mr. Dillon Wallace, and his half-breed guide only just succeeded in getting out alive. He had relied almost entirely on what game he could capture. Mrs. Hubbard and Mr. Dillon Wallace have since led ET 'S®SYSSSSSSS =r Aseq VW Suryel THE HAMILTON RIVER AND THE GRAND FALLS 1638 separate expeditions through the same country. Travel- ling inland to Lake Michikamau, thence down the George River to Ungava Bay, Mr.. Wallace returned by dog- sleigh in the winter, skirting with his teams the entire Labrador coast. Both expeditions have been described by these travellers in their well-known books. CHAPTER VI THE PEOPLE OF THE COAST By W. T. GRENFELL Tue fishery as it exists in Labrador at the present day is confined practically to Newfoundlanders, Labrador settlers, or “‘livyeres,”’ as they are called, Eskimo, Americans from Massachusetts and Maine, and a few Canadians from the Maritime provinces. Of the Basques only a few tiled floors, and the débris of the bones of whales that were cap- tured, remain. These bones are still fished up at Red Bay in the Strait of Belle Isle and are used for dog-sledge shoes. Biscayans and Bretons are represented by a wild growth of the small leek or hive, which once flourished in their well-cared-for vegetable patches. Jean Jacques | and Antoine Perrault still fish on the coast, but speak the homeliest Labrador and are innocent of anything French, even as on the Canadian Labrador Rob Roy McGregor and Angus McNab know nothing but French patois. The Canadians are represented by their telegraph lines, lighthouses, and steam tenders. An occasional sick French Canadian finds his way to the small hospitals on the coast. Germany has at Nain a consul, a Moravian missionary bishop, whom, in 1907, a man-of-war came in and saluted. Words lacking in the Eskimo language have been supplied from the German. Tosten Andersens and Donald Camp- 164 THE PEOPLE OF THE COAST 165 bells from Norway and Scotland came out with the Hudson’s Bay Fur Trading Company, and have left a plentiful progeny to represent them in this generation. One Jersey firm still has a fishing-room. Stone fish-drying bournes, brick chimneys, and occasional panelled doors testify to the excellent scale on which the enterprising men of Jersey once carried on the fishery so far from their own sunny homes. Their influence in doing things must have been very great. But with one or two exceptions there is to- day nothing to compare with the relatively fine style in which all their arrangements were carried out, and their men housed. These businesses have long ago passed into the hands of Newfoundland firms. The fishery of Blane Sablon is perhaps the one pursued on the largest scale. It has holdings also at Greenley Island and Forteau. The enterprise of the Honourable Captain Sam Blandford added largely to its fame and efficiency, for he annually hired at great expense two large steamers in which he pushed as far north as Cape Chidley, to add a second chance to each voyage. Canadian fishing vessels visiting Labrador from the lower provinces are fewer than twenty years ago. Americans from Maine are more numerous. These, the finest fishing vessels by far that come amongst us, are always welcome. Their crews are a generous, open-handed crowd of men, thorough fishermen, and splendidly fitted out. Our own humble vessels look poor and sorry beside them. Only for one thing do we regret their advent, and that is due to their indifference to what we consider the laws of God. They go fishing and working on Sundays among our people, who, though poorer and far more needy of material wealth, 166 LABRADOR — are wise enough to know that life does not consist in the abundance of things man possesses. The joy of life on our coast comes of a peace of mind due to a real faith in God’s fatherhood and our sonship, and from every high ideal realized on that premise. Without any theories it is the simplest ‘‘simple life.” There is no room in Labrador for persons affected with the “dementia of owning things.”’ If ever by elimination of their faith or by the introduction of the ‘‘habits of civilization”? our people are deprived of that faith, life on the coast would be little short of a purga- tory to be endured. So strongly do our people feel on this matter of keeping Sunday strictly for rest that one of our laws runs that ‘‘no person shall, between the hours of twelve o’clock on Saturday night, and twelve o’clock on Sunday night, take or catch in any manner whatsoever, any herring, caplin, squid, or any other bait fish, or set or put out any contrivance whatsoever for taking them,’ — just such a law as prevailed one hundred years ago about salmon-catching in Ireland. Oddly enough, the law does not prevent catching the cod themselves, so we cannot prevent the long lines being hauled by our cousins from “civilization.” When remonstrated with, however, they have almost always shown enough good feeling to give way to the wishes and customs of our people. The first of the fleet that leaves for Labrador sets out as early as the end of April. Those from the outports have still, owing to the unfortunate centralization of trade at St. John’s, to repair first almost to the very extreme south of Newfoundland for supplies, and thence to leave for the north again. The southern vessels that come out of the winter ice early frequently find time to do some coasting THE PEOPLE OF THE COAST 167 before leaving for Labrador, and will carry loads of lumber, etc., to the capital. But this cannot be done by those who desire to make two cargoes at the fishing-grounds or by those who live in northern ports. Their vessels scarcely get out of the winter ice early enough. In Canadian waters the trap berths are leased to the same parties year after year by the government, who charge so much per fathom for the “leading” net. There is thus no great incentive to be down on that part of the coast too early. On the part of the Labrador coast which is under New- foundland jurisdiction, the first comer takes the best berths. This led to such unnecessarily early starts, with the suffer- ing involved and risks incurred from pushing down among the floe-ice, that laws were made preventing berths being claimed till a certain date, according to the latitude. Any net set before that time is not only taken up, but the owner is fined. Every year, however, numerous dis- putes and quarrels arise from the eagerness to be sure of the choice of places, and never a season passes without some being brought to the travelling magistrate for settle- ment. Some fishermen, without trying for more than one voy- age, go direct to the spot of their choice, however long they will have to wait. These men, though living on their vessels, will always be found in the same places. Their schooners at anchor might almost be marked on the chart. These men, such as the Whites of Twillingate, the Milleys, the Lansons, the Barbours, etc., are almost always success- ful men. Most of the schooners, however, are obliged to wander 168 LABRADOR about, looking everywhere for “good tucks” of fish, and often so anxious to get the fish quickly that they leave the very places that later turn out to be best, only to find no others and so go home empty or ‘clean.’ These wandering schooners are called ‘green fish” catchers, and when they have taken their ‘“‘fare,’’ or when their time is “runned up,” they come south, pick up the freighters they left, and carry them to their homes. Of late, however, more ‘‘make,’’ or dry, their fish at the har- bour, where their freighters are doing the same thing. Though curing seems an easy matter, it involves much work and infinite patience. At home the gardens left in the spring sorely need tending now, and every man is anxious to be getting ready for the winter. Yet often for a week at a time, wet and cold days prevent any work being done. So valuable are fine days that a certain medicine was ad- vertised along the coast as a guarantee to ‘cure all” and to ‘give eight fine fish days” to any one buying five dollars’ worth. . The actual number of the vessels visiting Labrador I am unable to obtain, — probably one thousand each year. Every year quite a number go down that neither ‘ clear” nor “‘register’’ at the customs-houses. About twenty thou- sand persons, all told, constitute the summer exodus from Newfoundland. ; One or two steamers have been used in the Labrador cod- fishery of recent years, but the people are strongly preju- diced against their introduction. They have seen the steamers supplant the schooners entirely for catching seals. They have seen any chance of large returns pass entirely out of reach of the small fisherman. Moreover, they be- THE PEOPLE OF THE COAST 169 lieve that the seals are being killed out. As yet, however, it has not been possible to get a law prohibiting the use of steam fishing-vessels sanctioned in the Upper House of the Legislature. It should be added that laws relating to the fishery are, all together, very few, and the total number of cases where trouble arises from all causes, when added up, are so small as to be almost negligible. The use of steamers to bring fishermen and their families to the fishery and back again is greatly to be desired. His Excellency, Sir William MacGregor, in the report issued in 1906, after his official visit to the coast, says: “The difference in conduct between the present generation of Labrador fishermen and the banditti, or ‘irregular,’ crews that formerly frequented it, forms, perhaps, one of the most striking contrasts that could be found in the annals of Justice.” He further states that “the administra- tion of justice in Labrador is now so easy as to be, perhaps, without any precedent in any other country.” He de- scribes our fishermen as being ‘‘ phenomenally law-abiding.”’ This is certainly my experience, after acting as magistrate on the coast for the past twenty years. The greatest drawback to the Labrador fishery has been, and still is, the want of proper communication. A small steamer, which is used for seal-hunting in the spring, makes ten trips each year. She is supposed to complete each trip in a fortnight, but as she has ninety ports of call to make, fully fifteen hundred miles to steam, is loaded with freight, and has fog, ice, and bad storms to contend with, she is frequently unable to keep within several days of her schedule time. With a captain second to none for pluck, and acquainted with the coast as probably no other man is, 170 LABRADOR she still loses time. Day and night, when possible, she travels, but the scarcity of lights, the miserable survey, and the absence of artificial assistance to enter harbours, leave no question that she has far more work than she can accomplish. The passenger traffic alone is far more than she is able properly to undertake. The improved conditions of the fishery enable fishermen to get cash to pay for passages home by steamer so as to save time in the autumn. Thus, so many travel that even the available floor space is at times all too small for those crowding aboard. On some trips the gangway has had to be kept up to prevent more passengers coming aboard. For care, courage, courtesy, and efforts to please, the crew of the Labrador mail vessel cannot be beaten; but they cannot create space. The irregularities thus caused and the uncertainty as to the time of her arrival are also a great source of loss of time and money. Moreover, considering the importance of the fishery to the country, one mail per fortnight is not nearly enough. Five Marconi stations have been placed on the coast, and these are of very great value. They cover two hun- dred miles of coast, but do not yet connect with New- foundland, and only very indirectly with anywhere. When the Canadian station on Belle Isle is working, then Labra- dor can talk with the outside world vid Canada. But none of these stations is opened except during the summer months. The power of the most southern station at Battle Harbour has been greatly increased and prac- tically has put us now in touch with the outside world. uoIqoayH] je syekey ul owlys” ri | yf THE PEOPLE OF THE COAST 171 In the wireless system, the problem of communication in the Arctics and subarctic regions finds a solution. The drifting ice, whether as pan or resistless berg, is almost prohibitive of submarine cables. The immense bays, with their endless indraughts, make land wires out of the question. With commendable zeal, and with great success, the Canadians have succeeded in running a wire all the way from Quebec along the north shore of the Gulf of St. Lawrence to the Straits. Unfortunately the line ends at Chateau, twenty-eight miles from Battle Harbour, where the terminal Marconi station is situated. In winter, residence in Labrador is specially discour- aged by lack of communication, and the permanent population, except around the newly established mills, is decreasing steadily. The existing arrangement of one or, at most, two mails carried by dogs is not sufficient to meet the needs of a population of English-speaking people during a whole winter. I am a complete optimist with regard to the future. Steffanson has written in his ‘‘ Friendly Arctic” how mistaken people are regarding the cold at the sea levels. Our latitude is that of England, our al- titude nil. A chain of wireless stations has been es- tablished in summer, and as industry develops is avail- able all the year. Exclusive of aschool grant of $2000, the total appropri- ations for Labrador are under $30,000 per annum. Twenty thousand dollars of this is for the summer mail steamer and the Marconi stations ; $2000 is for collecting revenue (2 LABRADOR on the coast. All the rest is spent on summer post-offices, and providing for sick fishermen. Five hundred dollars a year appears to be the amount granted to make Labra- dor habitable in winter. As the revenue from its inhabitants direct is certainly $150,000 per annum, and the indirect revenue from the fishery so large, this does not seem fair. The Labrador people must purchase every supply from Newfoundland, from a rifle, a trap, a net, to flour, pork, and potatoes. I have seen potatoes turned back home from the Cana- dian boundary at Blanc Sablon because they were grown in Prince Edward Island, and the taxation was far too high for the settlers at Forteau and Red Bay to be able to afford them. Yet they could get no potatoes from New- foundland, could grow none, suffered from hunger for want of vegetables in spring, and some were being fed every year on government flour during the long winter months. The testimony of hundreds of my friends. who live in Labrador, among them men who have lived in the United States, England, Scotland, Canada, Norway, and elsewhere, is that Labrador is by no means a bad country to settle in, but it is handicapped by having too little government encouragement given to people to live there. The reindeer project, backed only by the Canadian government and by private friends, I shall leave to another chapter. One other great drawback to settling is the impossibility of either getting grants of land or buying land with good title in Labrador. This partly arises from the unsettled question of ownership. For nobody knows the boundary between Newfoundland and Canada. Grants of timber THE PEOPLE OF THE COAST 173 lands have been made to Canadian firms in Sandwich Bay and Hamilton Inlet, covering about two thousand square miles in all. Grants to fishing firms have apparently been made to Baine, Johnston & Company at Battle, to Isaac Mercer at Long Tickle, to Job Brothers at Blane Sablon and Indian Harbour, and to a few others at other points. The policy of the Newfoundland government has always been in theory to leave the land free to any one, so that when one man leaves it another may make use of his former situation. Presumably this is on the assumption that nothing of value will be left behind. But though no legal conveyance has been made, men who fish any particular place, and even move a stone to “spread fish on,”’ will claim that place, though they have not been using it for years, and the courts at home have upheld them. It leaves the land about the harbours in a very anomalous and undesirable condition. There are fishermen anxious to come and settle, there is land unused, and with no marks on it; yet either some one refuses to allow them to settle or they dare not settle for fear some one may arise who will some day eject them. Several of these cases have come before me as magistrate on the coast. Labrador has no representation, and no one is appointed to look after its interests. The Governor’s Report for 1906 does not put the matter one iota too strongly. The follow- ing paragraph taken from it is very significant, when the varied experience of its author in other out-of-the-way parts of the world is taken into consideration: — “Tf the difficulties of representation are considered to be too great, then there remains the obvious alternative of ap- pointing a minister, or, at least, a secretary for Labrador, 174 LABRADOR whose sole and special executive duty would be to study all the questions in connection with that country. It may be stated here at once that the proper development of the Labrador coast cannot take place unless one or other of the above suggestions is adopted, or some other more or less similar arrangement is provided, such as an annual visit to the coast of a Minister of the Crown.” Only one such has ever visited Labrador, and that one, the Honourable Minister of Fisheries, accompanied Sir William MacGregor on his trip in 1906. Education in both Newfoundland and Labrador is an- other very difficult problem. It is rendered almost im- possible to solve, owing to the denominational system of schools. A recent visitor, writing in an American paper, expressed himself as follows, and his view I entirely agree with : — “Tf any one desires to study the working out of an ex- clusively denominational education to its logical result, a visit to Newfoundland will supply the materials. The island is a poor and sparsely settled country; yet its edu- cation is completely in the hands of the churches, the only uniformity attempted being the preparation of exam- ination papers by a central board. In the smaller settle- ments there may be a Methodist, an Anglican, a Roman Catholic, and even a Salvation Army separate school, and each denomination, except the Congregationalist, has its own college in St. John’s, not one of which has yet got beyond the point of secondary education. This is the logical outcome of the denominational idea. It results in the maintenance of separate camps in every village, and bids fair to postpone forever any real unification and assimilation of the people.” BROTH i Sa Court of Assize on the ‘* Strathcona ’”’ THE PEOPLE OF THE COAST 175 The best educated people in the country at present are the Eskimo. Almost without exception they can read and write. Many can play musical instruments, share in part singing, and are well able to keep accounts, and know the value of things. These accomplishments, entirely and solely due to the Moravian missionaries, have largely helped them to hold their own in trade, a faculty for want of which almost every aboriginal race is apt to suffer so severely. I have known an Eskimo called in to read and to write a letter for a Newfoundland fisherman, and I have had more than once to ask one to help me by playing our own harmonium for us at a service, because not one of a large audience could do so. I have heard more than one Eskimo stand up and deliver an excellent impromptu speech. Read- ing the Newfoundland Blue Books, reporting the numbers able to read and write in Labrador, I acquired an entirely erroneous estimate of the people’s accomplishments in those directions. Our white population is still very largely illiterate. Some headway has, however, been made of late years, and literature and loan libraries distributed through the Labrador Mission are now accessible all along the coast, and are creating a love of reading. There are practically no alcoholic liquors sold in Labra- dor. Not a licensed house exists. If liquor is sold at all, it is in very small quantities and clandestinely in what we know as “shebeens.” To obtain convictions for breaches of the really very stringent liquor laws is not easy. In many years’ cruising the coast, I have only been able to convict five ‘“‘shebeeners,”’ and I will candidly admit that I lose no opportunities. 176 LABRADOR Since prohibition came into force for the whole colony the illicit supplies sent through the mails have practically ceased. The ‘‘cash on delivery” trouble has been elim- inated. Foreign vessels are still unfortunately in the habit of giving away rum to the fishermen who load them with fish. The total quantity drunk, however, is very small indeed. Thousands of our fishermen are absolute ab- stainers on principle, and a very strong anti-liquor senti- ment prevails almost universally. The results are ob- vious in the fact that we have not one policeman stationed along the whole coast; not one among twenty-five thou- sand people. We have no penitentiary, and there has not been, to my knowledge, a conviction for drunkenness. During sixteen years I have personally not seen one fisher- man drunk on the Labrador Coast. It is very different among the North Sea fishermen. Alcohol has there been the downfall of some of the best men. It has cost the lives of more than one of my own friends. It has ruined and starved many families I have known and loved. : A careful study of the health conditions of the coast by the doctors of our staff all these years has shown that there is no need for liquor whatever in these subarctic climates; that, on the contrary, the first man to go down in hard physical conditions is almost always the drinking man. Among men on the sea the dangers from its use are enormously enhanced. As a method of making money, I can conceive of few that are so despicable, so inhuman, as this liquor traffic ! | The complete absence of artificial class distinctions on THE PEOPLE OF THE COAST a iare the coast is one of the most refreshing experiences a visitor can have. A man may have fustian instead of broad- cloth, sea-boots instead of patent-leather boots, a blue guernsey instead of the latest cut of frock-coat, but a man is a man in Labrador for all that, — independent and free from all self-consciousness, which quite falsely humbles one man in the presence of his fellow-men. Thus I have had guests many times staying with us in our house, waited on at our table, and then quite naturally adjourning to the kitchen and feeling absolutely at home and unembarrassed there with the servants, without any false contempt for others, just as a Ruskin or a Tolstoi, or the Christ would have it. Yet the Labradorman, on the other hand, has none of that offensive familiarity which would ignore the differ- ences that are the outcome of position and training. He does not so much care who your father and grandfather were, or the quality of your clothes. But he does not try to force that fact on you in the manner said to be the pre- rogative of “walking delegates.”’ Those who have visited the Labrador fisherman have, on social grounds, learnt to love him for his simple virtues, his hospitality, his faith, his truthfulness, and his loyalty, — even as Ian Maclaren taught us to love the people of Drum- tochty. Nor can you be long in the fisherman’s company without feeling this. The public health of Labrador has practically been a matter of chance. Houses are not drained. Few have even outside closets, much less one in the house. There are no sanitary officers. Very few residents have ever been vaccinated. Until recently they have had no teaching N 178 LABRADOR as to the dangers of infectious diseases, and especially how to deal with and avoid tuberculosis. Consumption is the main enemy of these people who live here in one of the purest atmospheres in the world. But it is fostered and propagated in every possible way by the customs of the people and by their poverty. The total number of residents is now about four thousand, inclusive of thirteen hundred Eskimo. In spite of new mills and other new industries recently introduced, the number is not increas- ing. This is due partly to the fact that some return to Newfoundland to benefit by the schools and other ad- vantages, or to escape starvation or the isolation that arises from no line of communication in the winter. Those residents, who make this journey, invariably tell me they would greatly prefer to remain on the coast in winter if it were possible. The lack of increase is partly due, also, to the want of care of the young. I have no statistics to show the rela- tive mortality in childhood. I know it to be great. The families are comparatively large. I call to mind one of thirteen, one of fourteen, and several of seven and eight. Most men marry young. Bachelors are very few on the coast. A knowledge of the cheaper food-stuffs and how to use them would be a great help. Thus, corn meal, oatmeal, and rice are seldom used. The average age attained is certainly low. The older English and Scotch settlers live and maintain their vitality much longer than those of the succeeding generations. They also hold their own much better in the battle with their environment. One man proudly told me, “ Father is eighty-two and hasn’t a kink in him.” Eskimo Hunter THE PEOPLE OF THE COAST 179 The sicknesses of the coast are not indigenous. In the past seventeen years there have been grippe; a few cases of small-pox, imported by a schooner from the Gulf; scarlet fever brought from Newfoundland in a steamer; one small outbreak of diphtheria in the Straits on the arrival of the summer visitors; and in summer a few sporadic cases of typhoid. The Eskimo brought back from the Chicago Exposi- tion typhoid of a very virulent type, which killed several hundred of them; and, from the Buffalo Exposition, diph- theria. An epidemic of grippe, complicated with pneu- monia and pericarditis, killed about sixty in the neigh- bourhood of Okkak. In my introduction I have already mentioned the terrible influenza epidemic of three years ago. The worst enemy of the Eskimo is, again, tubercu- losis, and from that in one form or another most of the people die. The disease is entirely due to ignorance, neglect, and poverty. On the other hand, so healthful is the country that I have no hesitation in recommending it for neurotics, or even to persons with disposition for tuberculosis. In winter the dry cold, in spring the low latitude and reflected sunshine, and in summer the clear cold, bracing air, are great recommendations. When speaking of the people of the coast, one is apt to overlook those who are represented in Labrador only by agents in their various businesses. Were it not for their enterprise and courage, the Labrador fishery would be lost to the human race. Labrador owes them many debts, and the people almost owe their existence to them. To-day the merchants carrying on business in Labrador 180 LABRADOR are mostly residents of St. John’s. The largest outfitting firm for Labrador, especially of the greenfish catchers, is, however, that of Messrs. Ryan, of King’s Cove. Nearly all the merchant firms interested in the bank fish- ing and the shore fishery elsewhere are represented. The largest single establishment at Blanc Sablon belongs to Messrs. Job Brothers & Company, a firm that for a hun- dred years has carried on the fishery business. The sec- ond largest station is Battle Harbour, the property of Messrs. Baine, Johnston & Company. Rorke & Sons of Carbonear own the old-established stations at Venison Tickle and Francis Harbour. Messrs. Harver & Com- pany are interested in Indian Harbour. Munn Brothers, of Harbour Grace, have built up a fine business at Shoal Bay and Snug Harbour. McCrea & Son, at Gready, carry on a very extensive business. Messrs. Kennedy, Bartlett, Jerrett, Clouston and the Anglo-Newfoundland Company and others have all built shore stations and opened up fisheries in which every year they risk con- siderable sums of money. A cold storage plant has been installed at Packs Harbour and there. also berries and cod are put up in tins. Labrador owes its developing utility to mankind largely to these enterprising men. They have met with varying fortune. Some have made successes. None has made a large fortune. Many have experienced great losses. When they come to balance the issues of their enterprise, they should not forget their greatest asset, — that their names are held in honour, and that gratitude to them is cherished in numerous hearts and homes along the ice-girt shore of the ‘‘lonely Labrador.”’ THE PEOPLE OF THE COAST 181 The Hudson’s Bay Company has long shared the fur- trade of the northeast coast with the Moravian Mission stations. The older of these two companies has a station in Davis Inlet, one of the most beautiful spots in eastern Labrador. The well-wooded sides of the inlet, the steeply rolling hills, the narrow, deep fiords branching away in many directions, the peace of the seldom ruffled waters, and the number and variety of the sea-birds inhabiting the bays during the summer, all lend Davis Inlet a kind of beauty unrivalled on the outer coast. Here the largest trade with the Montagnais Indians is pursued. Every winter and summer a band comes out with furs, deerskins, and parch- ment. A trifling reward is given by the company to any settler meeting the band and piloting them in his boat to the station. There they generally stay a few days barter- ing their “‘hunt”’ for ammunition, tobacco, and coloured handkerchiefs and cloths. There is some trade here also with Eskimo and _ half-breeds in salt trout and salmon. The head post of the Hudson’s Bay Company is Rigolet in Hamilton Inlet, and from that place all orders are issued, all goods exported, and to and from that port their annual steamer plies, bringing the goods from London and carry- ing back the furs in the fall. She arrives generally in mid- July, coming out under sail and steam to economize fuel. She proceeds north to Ungava and to the bottom of Hud- son Bay, returning to pick up the summer’s catch of sal- mon with the furs of the preceding winter. The name of her captain, rendered famous in Labrador by his innumer- able voyages safely accomplished, will be perpetuated in the channel through which he always passes on his way around Cape Chidley. It has been christened Gray Straits in his honour, 182 LABRADOR If we steam up ninety miles farther along Hamilton Inlet, we reach the Northwest River station of this same company. From here they supply potatoes, carrots, cab- bages, and other vegetables of their own growing to the outside posts. It is beautifully situated at the mouth of a lonely salmon river, with a well-wooded background and a level-grassed, pebbly, and sandy beach in front. Here the Canadian party viewed the eclipse in 1905, and here the present Lord Strathcona, the grand old man of British North America, spent thirteen years of his early life. No place is better worth a visit. The vast quantities of fresh water pouring into the great Lake Melville make it quite warm, and bathing can be indulged in there as well as any- where in England. The station at Cartwright, the southernmost of the Hud- son’s Bay Company stations, is the one, however, best known to visitors, and to the world also, from the famous journals of the founder. The entire people of that bay for long years depended on it for all their supplies, but now they trade also largely with the southerners at their summer stations at Gready and Pax Harbour, and also with the French firm of Revillon Fréres, who built a station in the bay in 1907. This firm has been spreading its stations wherever the Hudson’s Bay Company carries on operations, and metaphorically have, in each place, put down their trading-post in the latter’s back yard. A few years ago this would have originated feuds and strife, as in the famous days of the Northwest Company in Canada. But now-a- days there seems no personal animosity, and the various factors can even meet and smoke together the pipe of peace. Revillon Fréres have a station also at Northwest River. THE PEOPLE OF THE COAST 183 Their advent on the coast has marked a considerable rise in the price paid the people for furs. In the winter months the fur-traders make long sledge journeys along the coast, buying the skins caught, or lay- ing embargoes on them. The Rigolet dog-teams and the Nachvak dog-teams have for years been famous along the coast. The former, with their well-known owner, James D. Fraser, here probably reach the acme of dog-driving, while the famous Ford family have, between them, carried the mail three hundred and fifty miles each way over these barren, uninhabited shores, winter after winter, where no man lives and no houses shelter them — across mountain fastnesses, over glaciated passes, and the still more dan- gerous sea-ice, year after year, without serious accident. The mail starts at Fort Chimo in Ungava Bay, then round and along the Labrador coast to Davis Inlet. The mail crosses the land to Nachvak Bay, and so on over a stretch of fifteen hundred miles to Quebec. The life of a Hudson’s Bay factor in Labrador does not offer all the joys of civilization, but it offers a field to develop courage, muscle, resourcefulness, and self-reliance to an eminent degree. It makes men who shoot straight, fear nothing, and live hard. It offers the simple life, with its many advantages, and it breeds a hospitality, a brotherli- ness to one’s kind, a readiness to stand by any one in dis- tress, that, in our complex life in cities and even villages, we rarely find ourselves called on to exercise. Never has a visitor travelled our coast, but his heart has gone out equally to all the brave men of these two great organiza- tions, the Moravian Missions and the Hudson’s Bay Company. CHAPTER VII THE INDIANS By WiuuiAmM B. Caspot Tue Indians of Labrador are all of the family stock known to ethnology as the Algonquian, which in its day occupied a vast area of the continent. From the Carolinas to the Eskimo shores of Hudson’s Strait and from the Atlantic to the Mississippi and far to the northwest, the maps of the present day are dotted with the place-names of one group or another of this vanishing family. These names, one of the chief legacies of the Algic tribes, remain a sign-manual of their occupation of the soil. Their great territory was shared by almost none but the Iroquoian tribes, and these in limited numbers. Beyond the Mississippi were the various and generally unfriendly races of the plains. Westward from Hudson Bay and-to the far north were the Athabascans, different in physiognomy and of another linguistic system. South- ward were various tribes, chiefly Muskogean, although names of the Algonquian form are not wholly wanting over most of the southern area to the Gulf. The northern groups are closely related. The Montagnais, or Mountaineers, of the southern Labrador talk easily with the Nascaupees of the northern and eastern Crees; these latter in turn with others to the west, and so on to the Rocky Mountains. The differences are only of dialect. To the southward it is otherwise; the St. Lawrence marks so 184 THE INDIANS 185 distinct a division of language that existing tribes cannot converse in Indian; and as observed by the writer upon the meeting of a Montagnais with an Abnaki acquaintance on the winter trail, conversation must proceed in some foreign language — in this instancein French. The Indians of the Labrador estimate that as many as half of the people speak no language but their own. The presence of white blood is largely evident in the southwest, adjacent to the settlements and the upper gulf; and many who are counted Indians might, but for the saving effect of a hunting life inland, be reckoned as white rather than red. Low writes: — “The most northern tribe has a tradition that their people originally lived far to the south, and it is prob- able that they were driven northward from the country about the St. Lawrence by the Iroquois, about the time of the first settlement of Canada, by the French. There are many traditions about these wars among the northern Indians, and it is surprising to what distances the Iroquois followed them, into the middle of Labrador, and up the east coast of Hudson Bay to the neighbourhood of the mouth of the Big River in north lat. 54°. As the Crees retreated before the Iroquois, they in turn displaced the Eskimo, who at one time occupied the eastern and southern portions of the peninsula as far as Eskimo Bay on the Gulf of St. Lawrence and all the territory about Hudson Bay. These wars terminated when the Eskimo became supplied with firearms, and are now traditions of the distant past; but the memories still live, and the Eskimo and Indians, al- though never engaging in open hostilities, have a mutual hatred and never intermarry. The northern Indians still regard with fear the descendants of the once fierce Iroquois, and their name is used to frighten children.” 186 LABRADOR In the nearer regions, service at guiding and with survey- ing or exploring parties as voyageurs is resorted to con- siderably by men of more or less Indian blood, but the dark Indian accepts such employment rather reluctantly. His light bodily frame, in fact, is not well suited to heavy work. The voyageurs of the north par excellence are Scotch or French mixed breeds, men not infrequently of unusual bone and strength. Although Dr. Low regards themodern Montagnais as rather improved in sturdiness by the long infiltration of white blood which began with the days of the Coureurs des Bois and early fur trade, the slighter build usual in the northern group is tolerably common. Occasional association with modern operations along the nearer borders has not much changed the inland life of the people. The interior is still an Indian possession, where no white man makes his home, and the only law is the immemorial code of lodge and hunting-ground. The whole inland, and indeed almost all the coasts, remains given over to the hunting life. The Indians, always diminishing in numbers, may be reckoned at some three or four thousand at the present time. Of these the Montagnais, who are all tributary to Gulf or Saguenay trading-stations, make up more than half. It is difficult to arrive at a census of such a wandering people, for in one year and another some of them appear successively upon coasts remotely apart. The lists of names at such far-distant trading-stations are rarely com- pared with each other, while the names of the Indians are somewhat subject to change, and at best are not always easy to identify. About the great lakes of the central area the people THE INDIANS 187 meet as may happen during the hunting season, and ex- change their unwritten news; slight, indeed, is the occur- rence, from side to side of the country, which escapes those lodge-fire gatherings. Families hidden here and there in remote valleys may wait for their news, perforce, until late in the spring, when at various rendezvous they group together for the down-river voyages; or even until the sum- mer meeting on the reserve, where all subjects have their final review; but on the far lake levels of the high interior, the hunting-place of the strong and skilful, their network of communication is seldom long broken. There, about the central area, gather the rivers which flow to the four coasts, and there the people converge. In the words of John Bastian of Pointe Bleue, “At Kaniapishkau you meet Indians from all shores.”’ Almost all the Montagnais families leave their hunting- grounds when the fur becomes poor —technically, “com- mon ’’ —in the spring. About the last of the fur-hunting comes with the bear-hunt, late in May, when the snow has settled down and the bears begin to move about after their winter’s sleep. By the last of June the people are gathered upon the reserves along the Gulf and on the Saguenay. Sometimes a family remains inland two years for some rea- son, most often because of a light catch of fur. In suchan event some neighbour usually takes down what skins there may be,and brings up purchases accordingly in the fall. There is not much trouble about subsistence in the summer for those who stay in. Fish, taken almost wholly by net and spear, are nearly unfailing, and there are some ducks, geese, and small animals, besides eggs and berries; enough all told to get along on, although the large game fail. 188 LABRADOR Beaver, bear, and lynx, with the caribou, may be reckoned under the latter description. The latter days of June — Nipish Prrshum, the “ Leaf Moon ”’ — find the country pretty well vacated by the out- goers. July — Shetan, or ‘“‘Ste. Anne Moon,” for Saint Anne is their special saint —is dedicated to church observ- ances and quiet life at the shore. The Oblate Fathers give religious instruction from the missions on the reserves, and the younger Indians are taught to write their own language. Canoes are built; a little near-by fishing is carried on; the season on the whole is one of festivity. The physical condition of the people is apt to deterio- rate in summer, for the elements of the reserve life are largely foreign to the native habit. There is crowding into small houses and cabins; doubtful drainage, water, and food; more whiskey than ought to be, and the ordinary diseases of civilization. At Pointe Bleue, on Lake St. John, rheumatism is prevalent, and the constitutional instability of the mixed race makes for consumption and the minor dis- eases always present in the large town of Roberval near by. The month of August is known as O-pd-0 Ptishum, “Moon of Flight,” for then the young ducks begin to fly. They are welcome for the kettle during the canoe journeys to the hunting-grounds. As the month goes on, a busier air comes over the reserves; trading is completed, and the refitting brought to a close. One by one the families slip away, until at last only those who hunt comparatively near are left. By the last of September, Ushakau Pushum, when the “caribou horns harden,” most of the cabins are empty, the tents have vanished, and few but the very helpless are left upon the reserve. THE INDIANS 189 Near Bersimis, some two hundred and twenty miles below Quebec, three large rivers converge to the coast, and all receive their customary families in the fall. The Mani- quagan is the chief of these, being ascended during recent years by aS many as seventy families. Near and parallel with this is the more difficult Outardes River, named by the Indians Pletipi, ‘“‘Partridge-water,”’ from its chief lake. Many of its hunters ascend the Maniquagan some two hundred miles to the lakes, and cross to their own river by a toilsome portage route. A few pass directly up the Outardes. With the burden of provisions now necessary to the hunting of these rivers, the way up such a difficult stream as the Pletipi becomes peculiarly hard. Still, for these people, whatever their age or condition, there is little choice, — inland they must go, to their own lands. A party on the way up river was camped above the first portage a few years ago when the writer passed down. A bright old withered woman appeared at the landing, her husband, older and blind, standing close with his staff. Two children showed their heads from the bushes near the piled supplies, peering at the strange canoe. A small dog barked not far away, a shot followed, and soon, carry- ing a partridge, a young man came from that direction and joined the conversation which our Indians had begun. They were going to the large lake Pletipi on the head of the river. It would take a long time, all the fall, and they thought game to live on would be more plenty along the Pletipishtuk than on the other river where so many families travelled. They were cheerful enough, though with virtu- ally only one effective pair of arms to fend for all. In a country of such scanty resources and physical 190 LABRADOR obstacles, these movements, involving the young and the feeble, could not be undertaken but for the intimate local knowledge of the people. Most of the Indians are actually born upon hunting-lands handed down from their ancestors, and at an early age each knows his own ground as the farmer boy knows his father’s farm. He has made the yearly passage of his river, down and back, from infancy. High water or low, he knows its every eddy and turn. As to an inn ahead, he plans his day’s travel to some fishing pool or lake; or to the blueberry lands, where will be berries surely, and bears perhaps. He camps in no chance place, but where the beach is clean, the bank not too high or steep, where wood and boughs and water are to hand, and always, when may be, where the view is sightly and wide. Thus he continues his way, every resource of the barren land made his. Illness and death sometimes befall, want and misfortune tax too often the fortitude of this ever disci- plined race, but sooner or later the plateau level is gained, the lake region begins, and the portages along the narrow- ing streams become short and easy. The great falls are behind, their jarring thunder fades in time from the ear; the roar of the long rapids is over; the shut-in river valley has given place to the broad sunshine of the table-land. Well content are they who have safely come. The long toil is over; they are glad to be away from the reserve; above all, they are once more upon the blue lakes of their own hunting-ground. The journeys inland have become increasingly hard as the game resources have diminished. The carrying in of supplies involves great labour on the long portages. A crew of picked voyageurs moves slowly, even though taking no The Prayer-leader at the Ragged Islands —- Phe —~, THE INDIANS 191 time to hunt, and unencumbered by children or old persons. On the Long Portage of the Bersimis, Low’s exploring party spent a full week. It appears on his map as the ‘“‘ten- mile portage,’ and passes over a mountain more than one thousand feet high. In the earlier days of the fur trade, these movements were by no means general with the people, partly because the comparatively few articles then required in trade were easily transported, and the trading was done at some dis- tance inland. In the nearer regions, formerly the best hunting districts, fur is now scarce and large game almost wholly wanting. Previous to white occupation of the shores, it is probable that long journeys were not often undertaken for any purpose, while those performed were favoured by a game supply which was usually ample. The seasonal migrations of the recent period bear very heavily upon the young and feeble, and must seriously affect the current mortality figures. The periods of actual straits and starvation usually occur late in the winter, when reserve supplies are ex- hausted. It would be hard now to name a district of the peninsula where subsistence upon the country the year through is reasonably dependable. The prime disaster to the game resources was not due to improved firearms or such access of direct destruction as swept away the buffalo and other western game, but was incidental to a succession of tremendously destructive forest fires. From the Gulf to the barrens, three-fourths of the country has been laid waste within the white period, the thin mat of organic soil being burned wholly away over large areas, leaving only rock and sterile subsoil. The great 192 LABRADOR fire of the Saguenay ran from west of Quebec some seven hundred miles to the Romaine River, sweeping the country from the Gulf to the height of land. Such damp grounds as were spared could sustain little game, and afforded slight protection from the hunters to such as survived. The catastrophe, so far as resources for the Indians are con- cerned, was nearly complete. Earlier still the plateau had become largely non-support- ing. Hind, writing in the sixties of the country about the Moisie, gives a saddening account of the misfortunes of the Nascaupees. Many were forced to the shores. There food was to be had, but the change to the damp of the Gulf from the activity and sunshine of the high interior brought its natural consequences, and consumption and the unknown diseases of civilization soon brought their end. Where the soil remains, gradual replacement of the forest goes on, the higher ground most often turning to birch, with quaking asp, and the gravel river levels of the south- west to an open growth of Banksian pine, the ussishk of the Indians, and the cyprés of the French habitants. In favourable places the original forestation of spruce and fir succeeds, if poorly, in reéstablishing itself. The cause of fires is generally the carelessness of border whites, although Dr. Low’s supposition that not a few have begun with “wandering Indians, careful only in their own hunting-grounds,”’ is doubtless true enough. But it is to be remembered that the fire code of the real Indian is very rigid, and the fact that white advent found the country forested to the subarctic barrens tells its own tale. The people were far more numerous then, yet under their law THE INDIANS 193 the woods were green. But for the coming of a careless race, they would be so now. Along the Gulf the principal trading-stations are Ber- simis, Seven Islands, Mingan, and St. Augustine. From Seven Islands the Moisie is the main highway to the interior, and several of its families make their hunts within two hun- dred miles of Ungava on eastern branches of the George. Nearly parallel with the Moisie is the St. Marguerite, or Tshimanipishtuk. Its principal western branch inter- locks with the Maniquagan. The network of Indian travel about and far beyond the heads of these rivers is intermi- nable. From the Gulf near Mingan, the hunters ascend the St. John, pass a difficult high portage to the Romaine, and proceed toward the Grand Falls region of the Hamilton. They know the lower Hamilton as the Winikapau Shibu, or ‘River of Willows,’ and the falls as Pitshetonau, ‘It steams,’ from the column of white vapour which isseen from a distance. Low gives the tradition of two maidens swept over the falls, who spend their time behind the falls dressing skins. The lower part of the Romaine is not navigated, and is perhaps unknown to the Indians of the present day. Its Indian name “ Alimun,” meaning difficult, has passed through a rearrangement of sounds unusual in the ad- justing of Indian names to French organs of speech. From “TAlimun”’ to ‘La Romaine”’ the transition is easy, —sur- prisingly so, considering that no less a feat is involved than the introduction of the full rolling r into a language which has not the r-sound at all. In general, while the French learn readily enough to make practical use of the Indian dialects, they seem to OQ 194 LABRADOR have much more difficulty in the matter of correct articu- lation than do persons of English speech. Nevertheless the two races, the French and the Indian, are by tempera- ment rather notably acceptable to each other. It has been remarked that the Highland Scotch, in particular, learn the native dialects well and readily. This peculiarity seems more than an accident of linguistics, for the young High- landers brought over by the Hudson’s Bay Company not only learn the language easily, but marry forthwith, fall into the life, and show in their children as encouraging ex- amples of such combining of extreme elements, the very light and the deep brown, as may well be found. On the other hand, the young Englishmen brought over in the earlier period of the Hudson’s Bay Company were a notable failure in adaptability to the conditions, remaining alien to the life and seeking usually a final escape from their sur- roundings. | Analysis of the deeper affinities of the language must be left to the linguist; superficially it does not appear to have a common origin with any of the European tongues. It must be supposed that articulation, at least, is affected by climate and mode of life, as is physiognomy as well in the case of dwellers upon wind-blown plains. A relation may exist between the mild climate of southern Europe and the prevailing use of the outer organs of speech by the Latin races. The rolling r and the mobile face are hardly to be associated with high latitudes. In the north, on the con- trary, it might be difficult to find any word in the Algon- quian, or in that very different language, the Eskimo, which could not be spoken clearly with the face immov- able. These are languages which can be used without Davis Inlet Montagnais THE INDIANS 195 difficulty when the face is stiff with cold. It may be noted that the Scotch and’ English, whose relative facility in catching the Indian sounds has been remarked, have also a long inheritance of northern conditions. Eastward from Mingan the people travel the Natashquan, St. Augustine, and Eskimo rivers. Their lands are chiefly in the region between the Hamilton and the St. Lawrence. Southward from the Mealy Mountains of Hamilton Inlet and the Sandwich Bay coast lies an indefinite, unmapped area of high territory, partly barren, where large lakes supply the rough rivers passing north, east, and south. In winter, white or Eskimo-white hunters penetrate one or two hundred miles into this area. The Hamilton River also is hunted by the shore people. These go up in the fall in boats, returning on snow. The inland life of these shore-dwelling hunters is as little like that of the Indians as: well may be. Their winter method is to take what supplies can be hauled on sleds by hand, set traps along their route, the length of which is determined somewhat by snow conditions, and take up the catch of fur on their return march. They are known as “ planters’’; their occupation is ‘‘furring.” Cabins are built by some at strategic points, and these ‘‘tilts’? may be taken as the sign of white blood in the land. The Indian, held to no base, uses the movable lodge only. The shore hunter is bound, his campaign hmited, by his large dependence on transported provisions. If half-emancipated from, or better, only half-subjugated by, ‘‘the white man’s burden,’ he lacks yet the full inherit- ance, the ferity, which saves existence to the Indian born. The broad difference between the two, the fur catcher and the Indian, is that between hunting and the hunting life. 196 LABRADOR The white man goes hunting, his family protected in his absence; the Indian, rarely separated from his family, takes the chances of the open for all. During late years, few Indians have been regular visitors on the eastern coast of the peninsula. For convenience to themselves, the Oblate Fathers have influenced the hunters who formerly traded at Hamilton Inlet to make the longer journey to Seven Islands. Irregularly a few northern Indians from George River have visited Davis Inlet post, as few as three coming down in one or two recent summers. The northern group turns rather toward Chimo on Un- gava Bay. In winter some numbers of the northern group may come to the east coast, but they do not bring their families unless under pressure of starvation, and their stay is brief. The number of lodges on the eastern side of the country depends on the movements of the caribou. These vary rather widely in the course of their migration, the main herd sometimes remaining south a year or two at a time. As already noted, a number of Montagnais families from Seven Islands hunt near the upper George River nearly west from Hopedale. The height of land there is one hun- dred to one hundred and fifty miles from the coast. All, or nearly all, of these families make the long journey to Seven Islands at intervals, going usually by the upper Hamilton, Ashwanipi Lake, and the Moisie. Rather regu- larly some of these make a visit to the east coast in winter, and sometimes in summer. In the northern district, tributary to Fort Chimo, there are some forty or fifty families, according to Peter McKenzie. A certain number of Indians from Whale River also come to Chimo more or less regularly, perhaps — THE INDIANS 197 more often to Fort George or other posts on Hudson Bay. These probably belong to the division mentioned by Low in his large Labrador report as the coastal Indians of Hud- son Bay. Their dialect is not very easy for the other Indians to understand, probably from its Ojibway affinities. Those who come to Chimo are strong, active people, proud of their large hunts and of the long journeys they make to the coast. They look down a little on the Chimo Indians, many of whom hunt comparatively near by. The eastern Nascaupees, in particular, are not very ambitious either in fur hunting or travel. The caribou supply nearly all their wants, so that not much effort is required to get fur enough to pay for what else they require. Indians do not enter the wide peninsula to the west of Ungava, which is Eskimo ground so far as occupied. From Koksoak River to Hud- son Bay the respective areas covered by the two races are separated approximately by the line of the Nastapoka and Larch rivers, which constitute a route surveyed by Low, and pursued by Mr. and Mrs. Tasker of Philadelphia in 1906. The name Nascaupee is a slighting term given to the northern Indians by their more sophisticated neighbours of the south. Originally the word seems to have meant ignorant, unlearned, but is now connected usually with pagan or heathen people who have not had religious in- struction. In his very comprehensive report (1885-1886), published by the Bureau of Ethnology, Washington, Lucius M. Turner gives the name Nascaupee as meaning false, unworthy, and as connecting the people with a failure to join in some movement against the Eskimo in the old days; but this rendering seems etymologically doubtful. 198 LABRADOR Their immediate neighbours call the eastern Nascaupees Mushauau-eo, “ Barren-ground People,” and their principal river, the George, is known to all Indians as Mushauau Shibo, or “ Barren-ground River.” The Nascaupees’ name for themselves is Nenenot, “True or Ideal People.” Literally this seems to mean ‘‘Our Own People,’’ which, after all, in the minds of most races comes to much the same thing. These meanings have been quoted by a recent traveller, Wallace, who gives some of the information gathered during a visit at Chimo. His statement regarding the Indians’ extreme fear of the sea seems at least exaggerated. He describes them as afraid to even look upon the sea below Chimo. On the contrary, Mr. Guy, long resident at Chimo, has observed little feeling of the sort. During his time there a young white man while hunting was drowned in a lake on a stream emptying into the bay. Some Indians not only went down to the sea by canoe and around to recover the body, but made the trip a second time to find the rifle. .In the recent ob- servation of some Chimo hunters on the Atlantic side, they took very readily to salt water, boating and canoeing under reasonable conditions. If unnecessary canoeing about Un- gava with its forty- to sixty-foot tides and notoriously bad navigation has small attraction for them, the cireum- stance is not to be taken as phenomenal. None who has actually voyaged with these masters of the open canoe is likely to believe them water-timid. Turner says these Indians bear cold as well as the Eskimo do, although under starvation they do not hold their working strength so well. The little children certainly show astonishing indifference to cold. 7 THE INDIANS 19% The lake and river route from the middle George to Chimo leads westerly to Whale River. This is not the Whale River mentioned in connection with the coastal Indians, which is a great stream of the Hudson Bay slope. The present river is smaller, and is known to the Indians as’ Manouan, ‘‘Egeg-gathering Place.” They describe the route as a hard one, and the Manouan as alinum, “ diff- cult.” The river route eastward to the Atlantic is not difficult for a light party, but as it includes more than twenty lakes with many long portages between, it is hard to follow without:.a guide, and is at best rather formidable for a loaded party. Formerly some of the southern Indians came up North- west River and hunted on its upper waters and those of rivers flowing eastward into the Atlantic. Their country, poor-at best, suffered by fire; fish were small, the caribou more and more uncertain. Finding that the deer summered in the unoccupied lake country south of the Nascaupees and west of Hopedale, they adopted that region and gave up the difficult Northwest River route. Having changed their trading-point to Seven Islands, the easier route by the upper Hamilton and Lake Michikamau was very direct. The number of these families varies from half a dozen to as many as fifteen or more. Their summer route finally reaches the east coast by the Notaquanén (‘‘ Porcupine- hunting-place’’) River. In winter, they can traverse the country without much reference to watercourses. The camps are in sheltered places, where there are trees enough to protect from the wind, and are almost always near water. The ice becomes too thick to be cut through easily, but whenever there is 200 LABRADOR much weight of snow, the water comes over the ice in places near shore, and does not freeze when blanketed with ten or twelve inches of light snow. Such water can be cleared of slush by very little warming over the fire. In default of water, chopped ice melts much better than snow, which the people avoid. They prefer to work hard for twenty or thirty minutes chopping a hole, rather than bother to melt down an uncompacting mass of cold, porous snow. They rarely, if ever, drink ice-cold water, but warm it a few degrees, even building a special fire for this purpose when travelling. In this, as in most other race peculiarities, they find their opposite in their Eskimo neighbours, who are said to eat snow and swallow frozen food with only the happiest consequences. For winter travel, most of the people now use sheet-iron stoves a foot square and about two feet long. The snow is tramped level with the snow-shoes, the tent raised and boughs laid; then the stove is placed on four stakes which are driven some three feet into the snow, and serve as legs. Such a stove will burn almost any small wood, and in a country where good wood is scarce, will save much time and labour in heavy chopping and shovelling snow, besides enabling the traveller to camp almost anywhere and not have to go more than a mile or two out of his course to get good wood. The Indians at Nichicun are classed by Low as Western Nascaupees. Only thirteen families traded at the post at the time of his visit. Other families in the neighbourhood go to the Gulf with theirfurs. Living near the geographical centre and apex of the plateau, they naturally hunt not far from Nichicun (‘‘Otter-place’’) Lake. They live almost THE INDIANS 201 wholly on the country. Few deer are taken there, and while fish are generally plenty, the margin of subsistence is uncomfortably narrow. All the able-bodied men go to Rupert House in summer with the brigade, while the women keep the nets out in lakes near the post. The return jour- ney from Rupert takes about sixty days. Sometimes the start downward is made before the ice has Jeft the lakes, but although the stay at Rupert is only a few days, the upper lakes are sometimes frozen again before their arrival at Nichicun. For some years Nichicun has been the only inland post in the whole peninsula, unless Mistassini, in the extreme southwest, be reckoned. The up voyage of the Mistassini brigade takes about fifty days. The lower part of its route, in common with that to Nichicun, follows Rupert River. There are seventy-five portages between Rupert and Mis- tassini. The thirty families who trade at Mistassini are also counted as Nascaupees. All the Indians known by this name are properly Swampy Crees. Those at Chimo say that they came originally from southwest of Hudson Bay to get away from the Iroquois. The brigade canoes are now of canvas, twenty-eight feet by five and one-half, by two and one-half deep, and carry five thousand pounds each of cargo. In 1898 thirty-five thousand pounds of freight went to Mistassini. The port- aging is arduous. Every man takes two “pieces,” each of ninety to one hundred pounds’ weight. There is compe- tition among the men for the bags of shot, which balance uncommonly well at the top of the load close to the neck. Such a load, of about two hundred pounds, is no trifle 202 | LABRADOR over rough and swampy ground; but every man, down to the least, prefers to take his two pieces at once rather than make two trips. The downward trip from Mistassini in a light canoe takes about ten days. The unit of value here, as formerly in most of the north, is the “Made Beaver.” In 1898 a fair-sized actual skin was worth 2 MB. Prices were virtually a nominal matter ; the people simply took down their furs and brought back their necessaries, with a share for the post. If for any rea- son a man did not have much fur to turn in, he was still taken care of, being at least furnished ammunition and other means of getting fur and food. The Mistassini people hunt chiefly to the north on the east main head water, the ‘‘ Nichicun side”’ of the country. Far from outside help, this region has a history of starva- tion. Fora long term of years, the deaths from starvation were more than from all other causes combined. For a time the district was abandoned. The fur game increased remarkably, tempting the people back, and about the year 1906 new cases of starvation occurred. There is not much large game, and in the periodic seventh year, when rabbits fail, and perhaps the uncertain ptarmigan or “white par- tridge’’ does not come, the worst may follow. All the families of the southern slope now take in enough supplies to escape actual starvation. About the year 1904 the large Etienne family, of Ste. Anne, transported about one-third the total amount they would naturally consume; and this may be taken as a fair example of the best half- breed practice. So large an amount can be moved only by stages. The canoe carries a load to the end of the stage of a few miles, and then drops back for another cargo. THE INDIANS 208 The hunting-place of the Etiennes is at Temiscamie, on the very head of Rupert River above Mistassini. Their route follows Peribonka River for nearly three hundred miles. From Lake St. John the Indians hunt the large rivers northward to the height of land, and to some extent beyond. The great evergreen regions of the East Main are the best hunting-grounds now; there, in the “black growth” forests, the martens are dark and rich, fetching prices of $15 to $30; but the journey is long, and not many hunters from the south go so far. Wherever burnt districts have come up to birch and aspen, fur values are lower. In such dis- tricts there may be plenty of martens, but by an interesting observance of the laws of protective colouration, the fur tends to match the general light aspect of the country and is pale and less valuable. The hunting-lands are held by individual hunters, and are passed down from one generation to another by customs of inheritance similar to our own. The hunting naturally descends upon some man of active age; if a daughter is married, the young husband may succeed to the lands. Surviving parents, or even more distant relatives, have, by common right, their place in the lodge. In fact, all must be taken care of in some way, in one lodge or another ; about the hunters group the dependent ones, widows and orphans and incapacitated ; none is denied his right. Infringements upon each other’s hunting-grounds are probably no more frequent than the cutting of timber on another’s land in civilization. ‘The restraint of Indians in such matters is far beyond that of more advanced races. In passing across another’s ground, which may take some days, the traveller has the right to take enough game for 204 LABRADOR subsistence, but not to hunt fur, nor to accumulate a stock of provisions. The number of animals taken yearly depends on their abundance; enough are always left to renew the supply. Usually the land is divided into three parts, which are hunted in rotation from year to year. On the southern slope the beaver is greatly valued, perhaps more for its wonderfully good meat than its fur. The most sustaining foods are beaver and bear. With bread, of course, all the game is sustaining, — fish, flesh, and fowl, — but the family thrown for weeks or months on rabbits and ptarmigan alone, with perhaps a little fish, weakens in time to the point of danger. The expression ‘Starve on rabbits”’ is well under- stood in the north. The beaver is taken, not uncommonly, by “staking,” a method which involves the driving of long stakes in a sort of grating over the under-water exits of the beaver, and then easily digging out the imprisoned animals. Bears are found even in midwinter, sometimes by aid of the small dogs, but more often by taking advantage of the bear’s habit of returning to the same place for successive winters. Their empty nests are noted in summer and visited at con- venience during the long period of hibernation. The keen little dogs referred to are indispensable in the hunting of small game, joining their efforts and senses to those of the family in a marvellous way. In travelling by canoe, they are often put ashore to run the banks, with great effect. An Indian dog, a pole, and a noose are as effective a combination in hunting some of the grouse kind as almost any that can be brought to bear. The substantial fish of the country, and valued accord- THE INDIANS 205 ingly, is the lake trout — namaycush, often called kokomesh, “the fish that swallows anything.” It sometimes grows to thirty or forty pounds’ weight. Although a lake fish, it is found in some of the running rivers in summer, taking flies along with the fontinalis. The latter is not as impor- tant to the people as the namaycush, and is, on the whole, less regarded by both whites and Indians. In fact, when cooked by boiling, which is the method of the country, — perhaps of all countries where the main living is upon fish, — the lake trout may fairly be reckoned the better fish of the two. The whitefish, when of good size, holds a higher place than either of the trouts. It is a different species from the western one, the coregonus, and such fortunate persons as have taken it from the cold rivers of the plateau are likely to regard it as the superior fish. Its specific name is labra- doricus. The fish is rather insipid, “‘vealy,’”’ when young, but gains in flavour and firmness up to the weight of six or eight pounds. It is caught with the gill net, which in the northern districts becomes useless by midwinter, as the fish go into the deepest water and are considerably dormant. Line-fishing then becomes the only resource. The whitefish is thus unavailable, and the trouts and the pike form the mainstay. In many waters of the south slope the most dependable fish in midwinter is one called among whites by the various names — maria, ling, loche, cusk, and fresh-water cod. This curious combination, to all appearances, of eel and hornpout, comes freely into shallow water under thick ice, and is easily caught by set lines with almost any bait. Its native name is mildkato, which has been translated by a Montagnais as “ Big-wide-head.” 206 LABRADOR™ Another rendering from a native source carries the meaning of its being a nasty, disagreeable-looking fish, which is cer- tainly accurate. The flesh flakes quite like cod, and is rather good. Its habitat extends at least as far south as the Connecticut Lakes of New Hampshire. The list of important fishes includes the owandniche, or ‘“Jand-locked salmon,” found rather widely over the south- eastern quarter of the country, the red and white suckers; and the pike-perch, or wall-eyed pike; the range of the latter extends as far as the eastern heads of the Maniquagan, where a round lake nine miles across is known as okauinipi, “pike perch water.” As kaw means rough, the name of the fish would seem to come from the perch like rough- ness of its scales. Last and least of the common southwestern fishes is the river-chub, or dace, which in the cold streams is good throughout the summer. It should be skinned rather than scaled. Its native name is uitush ‘‘stone-carrier,” from its well-known habit of piling up pebbles in the shallows. The wooden spear is used for all kinds of large fish at times, especially for the salmon. To fish with a torch and spear is waswdno, hence Waswanipi lake, south of Hud- son Bay, and possibly Ashwanipi, the large lake north of the Moisie on Hamilton Water. According to John Bastian, a young Scotch-Montagnais of Pointe Bleue, who was hunting there between Mistinik and Kaniapishkau, that region has practically no rabbits or beaver, — there being little food for them, — although it is a good district for martens. Other subsistence failing, John and his companion were thrown wholly upon fish, caught with difficulty and boiled without salt, for two or ee sain soothe Sai ween Nascaupee Indians at Davis Inlet THE INDIANS 207 three months. ‘‘It was hard work to cut the holes to fish through,’ for theice became six or seven feet thick, but they had enough fish to live on. John suffered from cramps while doing without salt, and they both grew weak, although the companion, who was more used to such living, got on somewhat better than he. They “felt well enough, but had no strength.’ They were gone from the shore more than a year. The experience was rather a commonplace one for the regular hunters of these districts, but it left John a good deal reduced, and it was some time before he recovered his strength. The people who descend the Moisie in the summer gather at Sandgirt Lake on the Hamilton, apparently for the mere sake of seeing each other, and they keep together as may be until their final separation in the fall for their individual lands. Something of an inland trade used to be done among the people, and doubtless survives still. A Seven Islands hunter would give fur to a Bersimis man at some rendez- vous, and each would go his way. Months later, in the fall, one of the fine canoes for which Bersimis is known would be passed in return at some appointed place. A similar trade in canvas canoes goes on between the Gulf Indians and the Nascaupees, whose country furnishes no canoe bark. Rolls of canoe bark are still sold at some of the northern posts of the Hudson’s Bay Company, being imported from more southern districts, along with other merchandise. Nevertheless, the supply has been insufficient for some years and often of poor quality; while by some unnecessary neg- lect the northern posts have been short even of canvas. With the full supply of the latter laid in recently along the 208 LABRADOR farther coasts, the almost distressing situation of the Indians is at last relieved. During the period of open water there is practically no foot travel. Some of the hunting-grounds, however, can- not be reached otherwise, and these are unoccupied until late. Mistinik, for instance, is reached by sleds from as far as the lakes of the Maniquagan, only two hundred miles from the Gulf, where the canoes are laid up and a stay made until winter sets in and the foot travel comeson. The tabanask, the sled for light snow, is as narrow as sixteen inches and is one-fourth or five-sixteenths of an inch thick. The thinner and more flexible the bottom, the easier the sled is to haul, but as they wear a little with use, it is better to — start a long journey with a little extra stiffness. The ma- terial of the sled is usually white birch, sometimes larch. The latter is not likely to ice-up and stick in changing tem- peratures. This icing-up may occur at zero, or below, and is a very serious hindrance; not much is done to pre- vent it, but there is no doubt of the good effect to come of such pitch-beeswax-tallow treatment as is given to the Norwegian ski, for the same sort of evil. Thin grease, or still worse, oil, does decided harm. The pulling is done from the head with the hands twisted into the lines behind the back. In midwinter the snow is dry and gritty, and a load of two hundred pounds, taken over a ten-mile stretch, may be a hard day’s work for a strong man. As the snow settles — in the spring, the loads and mileage increase, runner-sleds are taken into use, and on the lakes and rivers a load of five hundred pounds may move twenty or twenty-five miles aday. All the snow-shoes of the country are of the “round” type, which is doubtless better than any other for light snow THE INDIANS 209 in a broken country. The prevailing pattern of the Sague- nay district is from twenty to twenty-four inches wide, with an ordinary tail four or five inches long. The rest of the peninsula generally is committed to a rather wider shoe, with a mere loop for a tail. The frame is in two pieces, spliced at the sides. A fine pair in possession of the writer are twenty-six inches wide and twenty-five and three- fourths inches long over all. Although the various patterns of round shoe look awkward or impossible at first sight, they are extremely well regarded by all who have used them. For firm snow or in a level country, a narrower shoe is ob- viously more suitable. For spring snow-shoeing almost any sort of a makeshift is sufficient ; still the round shape prevails, the shoe being smaller than for winter, and roughly made. For snow-shoe moccasins, caribou hide is largely used in Labrador, in default of moose. Instead of stockings are worn duffel slippers, ‘‘nips,’’ which fit one inside another, and are very serviceable. The Indian hunters wear foot wraps — piuashigan — which need no repairs, are easily dried, and do not wear thin at heel and toe, like nips. Al- most any material serves for these, — blanketing, duffel, rabbit skins, or even old towels. In general, the Montagnais are rather badly clothed in trading-store furnishings. The Nascaupees are still con- siderably in skins, some, in fact, with no cloth garments at all. The men wear a breech cloth of skin, a sort of thin undershirt of unborn caribou with the slight fleece turned in, legeins of Hudson’s Bay Company’s “strauds,’’ mocca- sins, and a skin or cloth frock over. Commonly, when inland, no sort of hat is worn. The hair of the men is cut off square above the shoulders. Le 210 LABRADOR In winter the frock has a hood, and the moderate coat of hair which the summer skins bear is allowed to remain on, usually turned inside. For extreme weather this sort of | frock is made without a hood, so that a hooded frock with hair outward can be put on over it. Sleeping-bags of caribou skin are commonly used. Many of the Chimo Indians have lately adopted trousers for winter wear, but the little band of George River people under Chief Ostinitsu still prefer leggins and the bare thigh. No foreign language is yet spoken by this group, nor do they use ordinarily either bread or salt. Although well off for guns, the chief means of support of this band are those of the prehistoric period. In fa- vourable years the deer-spear alone furnishes the main living. When the great migration is on, hundreds and sometimes thousands of caribou are speared on the lake and river crossings, without the firing of a shot. The smaller game and birds are taken largely in snares and wooden traps: Nets of their own making, either of sinew or twine, are their most dependable means, rarely failing for long of taking food during a large part of the year. Even in the last months of winter, the time of graver straits, they rest their forlorn hope, not on the gun or steel trap or fishing gear of trade, but on the unfailing wooden hook of ancient days. All in all, the life of these people remains singularly un- changed. It may be doubted whether another such survival of the purely primitive hunter, at the same time of so high a personality as that of the savage of temperate America, is to be found in any part of the world: The caribou are to them what the buffalo were to the Indians ofthe plains THE INDIANS 211 So long as continue the migrations, the old-time ways will prevail. The cooking of fresh material is done most usually by boiling, the most economical method, and the one which, preserving all the elements of the material in hand, wearies least upon the taste. In the caribou country, the preferred way of saving meat is by smoking and converting into pemmican. For this the meat is smoked rather brittle, pounded into powder and shreds upon a stone, and put into a bag or bladder. Melted fat is then poured in; when the covering is stripped off, the pemmican looks hke a lump of tallow, but an in- cision with the thumb nail exposes the meat. In the high, cool barrens, whole carcasses, skinned and cleaned, are left on the gravel-beaches to dry black in the sun and wind. Sometimes many hundreds of carcasses thus exposed may be seen along the beaches at the spearing places. The art of making pemmican is practised also by certain Africans and other primitive peoples, and the grease is sometimes replaced by honey or some similar preservative. If it is not surprising that so convenient a means of deal- ing with the food-supply should be found in various parts of the world, there is nevertheless a deer product in northern use which might more naturally be presumed as of only local use. This is the winastikai of the caribou country ; into the paunch of the caribou is put the blood, a little of the partly digested moss is left in, and the whole is cooked and dried, when it may be crumbled into grains like brown- ish gunpowder. It does not seem to be regarded as a delicacy, being, it would appear, more valued than liked, 21? LABRADOR and used chiefly in times of scarcity. It is also prepared in northern Europe, and quite possibly may be found around the entire reindeer north. When starting for a day’s hunt in winter, the Nascaupee takes a cup of water, stirs in a handful of uinastikai, and drinks the mixture. Until through hunting he takes no more food. The same ab- stinence during the day’s hunting is noted of the Blackfeet by Shultz, and is doubtless common to the North American races. It is probable that the slightly digested moss which enters into the uinastikai appeals to our natural desire, seldom gratified in the northern life, for starchy food. A certain amount of this is contained by cladonia moss, although by itself it is hardly digestible. The Ungava Eskimo are said to chop up the caribou moss with seal oil as a sort of salad. If its use among primitive people is anything like coexten- sive with the range of the reindeer, there must be a practical justification for it. There are several kinds of berries in the semi-barrens, the service-berry, or mountain cranberry, being the one of principal importance to the Indians. To them it is known as uishitshimin, ‘“bitter-berry.”” The shore people call it simply the redberry. The cloud-berry, or bake-apple, grows here and there in damp places, even to the bleak bogs of the height of land east of the middle George River. Blueberries, delicate of flavour and structure, grow on many of the coast islands and inland hills. They grow so close to the ground in exposed places that often it is not easy to pick one without getting a little grit at the same time. The crowberry, or curlewberry, locally “blackberry,’’ is very common near the coast, but is insipid. THE INDIANS 2138 In the southern half of the peninsula the common blue- berry grows abundantly in burnt areas, and constitutes an important crop to both bears and Indians. At con- venient places the outgoing families burn fresh areas each spring, as the yield falls away after two or three crops. Coming up river in the early fall, the families camp at a suitable distance from their berry farm, and the men make a kind of surround hunt for bears. Sometimes as many as fifteen are taken in a few days. Then the women and children turn in for the berries. A good deal of blueberry cake is made, the berries being stewed in a kettle until they will hold together, and then dried. The name of the cake means ‘“‘like liver,” from its final appearance; it will keep indefinitely. The blueberry is manish, the “‘little-berry.”’ Formerly the barren-ground bear ranged rather widely in the northern districts. The last one reported was killed near the Barren-groundland Lake of the George about the year 1894. Peter McKenzie, who has bought their skins at Chimo, says the hair was very dark, even black. Both Eskimo and Indian regard it as aggressive and dangerous, though the Eskimo tales at least need not be taken too seriously. They are afraid of the common black bear, being unfamiliar with it. The much more formidable white bear they make little of, attacking him readily with hand weapons. No complete skin of the barren-ground bear of Labrador has been examined; the species is probably extinct now, and while it is not unlikely to have been a variety of grizzly, its identity may never be established. The caribou range from Hudson Strait to the coast at Belle Isle Strait, where they sometimes mix with the larger woodland species. The migrations do not hold together 214 LABRADOR after leaving the barrens, but scatter into the timbered country of the Hamilton Inlet basin, and from there to the Atlantic. Sometimes the greater herd stays south two or three years, to the great privation, or worse, of the Indians. The families east of the George can generally reach the coast in time to save themselves. At Chimo, in the nineties, nearly half the people starved or died about the post from illnesses due to their enfeebled condition. Actual starvation may happen almost anywhere excepting in the short summer, for subsistence is not altogether secure in any district with- out the aid of coast provisions. The late Charles Robertson, whose last years were passed at Pointe Bleue, used to speak with feeling of the bad conditions on the “ Nichicun side,” as an indefinite area north of Rupert River is called. During the long administration at Chimo of Mr. Matheson, lately retired, it was the usual yearly happening that five or six hunters ‘‘did not come back.’ They had fallen somewhere, hunting to the last, — for the less the strength of the hunter, the more urgent the need of finding some- thing before it is too late. | The semi-barrens of the northeast, the home of the Nascaupees, and of the caribou they live on, is in summer an attractive country. Unmapped lakes of large size le along the height of land east of the George, and smaller ones here and there to the very coast. When the deer are passing north, the best crossing is often at Mistinisi, a fine lake fifteen or twenty miles long discharging into the Barren- ground Lake. The crossing-place is six or eight miles from the east end, and is at least a third of a mile wide. If the leaders of the migration are turned, the whole route is shifted, perhaps a long distance. It is certain that very THE INDIANS DAs slight causes must serve to determine their course of migration, for no one can tell just where it will go. From Atlantic to Alaska, throughout the immense territory of the barrens, this is true; no race or tribe can foretell in this absolutely important matter. Some scattering deer are found over the country apart from the main herd; and the latter may break up into smaller bands. The shore people from Hopedale north formerly depended much on their deer supply. For some years this has failed. The southward movement was never much depended on at the coast, while recent fires have swept so much of the country south of Davis Inlet that the northward movement may be shunted off inland around the burnt district for a long time to come. So far as the caribou and the Indian are concerned, the loss of the shore people is quite their gain, for the latter are well armed, good shots, and have less restraint in killing than the Indians. An Eskimo family south of Nain told the writer that they ought to get one hundred deer in a good season, for themselves and dogs. North of Nain conditions are less changed. The Eskimo hunters from Nain and Okkak meet near the height of land west of Okkak late in the winter, and often get all the meat their dogs can haul out. Large wolves, varying from gray to black, accom- pany the herds. The northern Indians are still polygamous, though the limited number of women tends toward practical monogamy. The work about the lodge is done mainly by the women; what with dressing skins, making pemmican, and the ordinary housework, they are often overworked. In time of scarcity there is little for them to do, while the men, 216 LABRADOR as straits continue, wear down rapidly under the constant hunting. On the hunter, in the end, hangs the fate of all, and this is to be remembered when in times of plenty the men are found merely spearing the deer as they make the crossing and leaving the hard work of meat and skins to the women. In the evil day that is sure to come, it 1s most often the women and children who survive, husbanding their strength in the lodges until some hunter brings game. There is no question as to the fate of the hunter who does not return, though the spot where he sank to his lonely end may never be known. These recurring vicissitudes of the hunting life, especially in the farther north, must be taken account of before judg- ment is passed upon some of the customs and traits of such races. Until recently the old and feeble among the people were at times put out of the way by their relatives. It must be understood not only that the necessary alternative was usually abandonment and death by freezing or starva- tion, but that the event was brought about by the request of the person concerned. It might be difficult to find a people more devoted to their own than these. In his well-known Twenty-five Years of Service John McLean has an interesting chap- ter on their traits, his long relations with them standing in as good stead as the imagination which gives colour to Hind’s accounts of them as seen at Seven Islands in later years in his Labrador Peninsula. To quote a passage: — ‘In their intercourse with us the Nascaupees evince a very different disposition from the other branches of the Cree family, being selfish and inhospitable in the extreme; exacting rigid payment for the smallest portion of food. THE INDIANS 207 Yet I do not know that we have a right to blame a practice in them which they have undoubtedly learned from us. What do they obtain from us without payment? Nothing; not a shot of powder, not a ball, not a flint. But whatever may be said of their conduct towards the whites, no people can exercise the laws of hospitality with greater generosity, or show less selfishness toward each other, than the Nascau- pees. The only part of an animal a hunter retains for him- self is the head; every other part is given up for the com- mon benefit. Fish, flesh, and fowl are distributed in the same liberal and impartial manner; and he who contributes most seems as contented with his share, however small it may be, as if he had no share in procuring it. In fact, a community of goods seems almost established among them. The few articles they purchase from us shift from hand to hand, and seldom remain more than two or three days in the hands of the original purchasers.” The Cree, which is considered the parent language of all the Algic dialects, is believed to have had its early home and centre of development not far from its present place. The Iroquois also are thought to have emerged from the same quarter,— “somewhere north of the St. Lawrence and east of Hudson Bay.” The development of either race in such a latitude would seem to be one of numbers rather than of racial type or language, for the last Glacial period there ended only a few thousand years ago, while the physical type of both these peoples appears to have been very long established; and, as well as their accessories of clothing and other belongings, gives a strong impression of development in more moderate latitudes. The Algonquin group of languages, to which all the dia- lects of the peninsula belong, are both well developed in method and generally agreeable in sound. Their accept- 218 LABRADOR ability to the Anglo-Saxon ear is evident from the con- tinued use over the country of their innumerable place- names. Once adopted by the white race, these names are rarely displaced; indeed, are brought more into use as time goes on. More than half of the Indian place-names of the northeastern states would be readily understood by the Montagnais or the Nascaupees of Ungava Bay: thus, K’taadn, Monadnock, and Wachusett; Penobscot, Kenne- bec, and Connecticut; Massachusetts, Narraganset, and Manhattan, are as plain in their meaning to the northern- most Cree of the barrens as they are familiar in sound to the white dwellers of New England. To the white stranger these are merely well-sounding names, but without significance; to the Indian each brings its image: the ‘‘Great Mountain”; the ‘‘Mountain-stand- ing-alone”’; the ‘Long-open-water’’ (Moosehead Lake) ; ‘““Long-river”’; the ‘ Region-about-the-large-hills’’ (Blue Hills); the “‘Point-country’’ (Mount Hope Point); ‘The Island,’ — and the list might go on. Algonquin place-names are rarely fanciful; the method of life required an accurate and serviceable system of geo- graphical description, the function of which was too im- portant to be trifled with. Much of the eastern country was remarkably irregular and made up of features often repeating themselves at different angles. Few regions of the world, perhaps, are as confusing to the traveller as were formerly the vast forested areas of mountains and watercourses throughout the north Atlantic belt. Of necessity the descriptive method of the people was of almost legal severity, and is in the north to-day. Personal names, however, are often subjects of fancy. The humour THE INDIANS 219 of the people lays quick hold of the possibilities of the nick- name. Not infrequently the name of a child is given from some trait or chance occurrence. The name Mattawayshish, “Playbear,”’ belonging to an Indian first seen by the writer as a tall old man, dignified though feeble, was doubtless given by the mother to the little boy who played behind the bushes in days long gone. _A short, active man with a peg-top build was nicknamed Mistnouk, from the great triangular fly known in Maine as the moose-fly. A stranger from across some far water was dubbed ‘‘Over-sea”’ or its Indian equivalent.’ ' Indian rebaptisms, as to name, are not uncommon, especially in connection with younger men of no especial standing. Many of the Montagnais have French names. Neverthe- less, as many as half the people, it may be, speak only the aboriginal tongue; their names, with those of many others, are naturally still of the vernacular. As regards the language as a whole, it is probable that few but its actual students realize its scope and resources. Notwithstanding the number of names both of places and persons which we have accepted from the race, it would not be far wrong to say that the chance person of cultiva- tion, if told that the Indian language consisted of a few uncouth words of limited import, would assent as a matter of course. It is true that their field of observation as com- pared with that of modern civilization is limited. The swelling tide of our technical vocabularies, our now half- inanimate burden of metaphysical terms, have scarcely 1 A northern Indian had a name meaning ‘‘ Man-in-the-Moon.” 220 LABRADOR a counterpart in the unwritten speech of the lodge and the open. , Yet in the human relation the tongue falls little if any- thing short; its terms for a thousand features of earth and sky and the endless manifestations of the outdoor world are far beyond our own; our Bible, Old Testament and New, finds its way into the language without loss, and an inherit- ance of story and song, no ruder than that of our own race at a pitifully near period, is passed by clear minds from old to young as the generations go. In Lemoine’s French-Montagnais Dictionary are some twelve thousand title words, yet the commoner forms are not exhausted. In Watkins’ Cree Dictionary are thirteen thousand five hundred Indian title words, and it is probable that Indians of superior mind command a yet greater vo- cabulary. Without the support of writing, the Indian mind compares in this capacity evenly, or better than evenly, with that of the white races. When it is remembered that, according to Whitney, three thousand to five thousand words “cover the ordinary needs of cultivated intercourse”’ and that “three thousand is a very large estimate for the number ever used in writing and speaking by a well-educated man,” the dimensions of the Algic list of ideas may be some- what appreciated. Some peculiar advantages of structure in the Cree have been urged recently by Berloin in a remarkable analysis of more than two hundred pages, entitled La Parole Hu- maine. His conclusions are singularly complimentary to the language; their level may be perceived from a sen- tence of his last page, — ‘‘ Peut-il concevoir meilleur et plus noble langage ?”’ THE INDIANS 221 Whether his enthusiasm is to be fully shared, or whether such a view must be taken as going obviously too far, if only because the language was conceived by savages, may be left for scholars yet to come. Superficially, the structure of the language has some resemblances to Latin, mainly in its wonderfully inflected verb. The noun is little inflected, although it has a certain accusative usage. The adjective is put in a verbal form, as wapau, “it is white’”’; hence wapush, ‘‘little-white-one”’ (rabbit), and wapilao, ‘“‘white partridge.’ Adverbs are favoured, and are often placed early in the sentence, as in “Quickly I ran.’ Pronouns are rather fully inflected. The particles are wanting. Of the verb it may be said that it bears nearly the whole weight of the language. The development of this part of speech is extraordinary. The Dictionary of Father Lemoine gives three hundred and seventy-seven inflections of a single regular verb, and pre- sents no less than fifteen conjugations. The number of inflections in actual use much exceeds this number. The resemblance to Latin is quite close in some of these verbal inflections, notably such as the imperfect in -aban as compared with -abat in Latin, and the perfect with the sharp zt, as in the Latin amavit. The dual form for we exists, as in the primitive Greek and German. A special inflection is observed when the ~ subject of the verb is speaking to a person present. The number of inflections is nearly doubled by the use of sepa- rate forms for animate and inanimate objects, thus: — I like the dog — ni shatshitan atum. I like the tent — ni shatshiau mitshiuap. 22,2, LABRADOR Certain articles of importance are granted the superior form of the verb: among these are dshamuits, “‘snow-shoes”’ ; ashtesh, ‘ gloves’’; uzash, “meat”; and the names of the dif- ferent furs. Curiously, perhaps, for with aboriginal races the flesh is weak in this connection, ishkut’eu-a’ put, “ whiskey,” is not given the higher genre, nor shuliau, “‘ money ”’ (silver), while uapamin, “ apple,’’ is. New names have come with the white régime: — Horse, Kapilikishtiao — he that has but a single toe. Cow, Uishauatituk — the yellow deer. Turkey, Mishiléo — great partridge. Cat, Mirish. Iron, Assukumdén — kettle-metal or material. Tin, Uapukuman — white-metal. Gun, Passigan — thunderer. Soap, Uapékiigan — whitener. Spy-glass, T’ushkdpitshigan — instrument for seeing far. The ending s or sh, asin wapush, “rabbit,” and mush, “eat,’? is a diminutive. Such is 7'shipshas (lake), ‘“ Little Tshipshau,” and Mvstassinis, “ Little Mistassini.”’ The latter name signifies ‘Great Stone,” from a large boulder on the shore of that lake, which is regarded as having occult influences. Almost all the names of fish and other crea- tures are plainly descriptive. It may be inferred that not much borrowing from other languages has occurred for a long time. Considering how few of our common names, such as horse, dog, cod, trout, - not to mention names of inanimate objects, have any descriptive meaning to us, as words, this survival of original meanings in the Indian emphasizes the compositeness, at least, of our English tongue. Wa- as a prefix means white; was- or wash-, bright BEWOIN, MS, AUMOWUNNEE) 4, “SIS Sie, THE INDIANS 223 and shining. Wash alone means sky; Washéshkundu means blue, sky-colour. The language is mild in its cadences. Little conversa- tion accompanies serious occupation and travelling. When making camp, the young men toss their japes back and forth, and about the fire the women talk and laugh when by them- selves in the world-wide fashion. The religion of the country is professedly almost wholly Christian. The people trading around Hudson Bay are Protestants, while all the Montagnais are Catholics, cared for spiritually by the various missions of the Gulf and the Saguenay. | It is not to be supposed that the old beliefs are extinct; on the contrary, no reserve or gathering place is so changed in blood or so affected by white neighbourhood as not to have among its members those who are priests of the older theology and can deal with at least some of the overpowers of earth and sky. The influence of these many spirits for or against the laymen is determined largely by the rites of the manitu lodge. The spirits are not malevolent if uninflu- enced, although naturally less to be trusted as their form approaches the human; but the power of the priest, liter- ally a manitsesht, or “‘spirit-person,’ may win over almost any spirit to evil purposes. The one supernatural being of original malice is the frightful windigo, described as a cannibal man fifteen or twenty feet high. He lies in wait for the solitary hunter, and rushes out upon him. The mere glimpse of a windigo brings calamity and an early and unfortunate end. The spell may, however, be broken by making the proper observances; these are usually done by the manitsesht, who has power in these matters. 224 LABRADOR “The Great Spirit,” the T’she Manitu, is wholly good, but remote and scarcely approachable. The conception seems. hardly anthropomorphic at all, certainly not as clearly so as the Biblical one. What is doubtless an Indianized doctrine of the Trinity has had standing for many years, even in districts west of Hudson Bay. “The First One” — Puk-wa-sha-ne-magan — “gives us that which we must beg for” (what is necessary for mere existence). “The Second One” — Wahkt-Kna — “ gives us too much, more than we can use’’ — (deer, fish, etc., in great numbers). “The Third One” — Tshe Manitu — “‘is the greatest of all; He gives us the Fur, of which we cannot have too much.” It must be confessed that as to the concerns of the other world the concept is not very comprehensive. All notable features of the country have their local spirits. As a safe rule, the ordinary person does well to avoid them. Some are always well disposed, but as a spirit of bad intentions may take an attractive form for | his own purposes, it is better for the laymen at least to have no dealings with any of them. The people are readily sus- ceptible to missionary instruction, in all earnestness put- ting on the new faith over the old, which may be supposed to relinquish its ancient hold only about in proportion as the hunting life is given up. This hardly occurs save with persons of much white blood; so long as the wilderness life and the language continue, the old theology will survive. Under the strict injunctions of the Gulf missionaries, the sound of the téwehigan, ‘‘the ceremonial drum,”’ is not heard THE INDIANS 225 on the summer reserve, but once beyond hearing of the missions some remnant of the old rites is not far to seek. On the other hand, the church calendar is carried every- where over the Montagnais country; each day a pin is moved forward and pinned through the paper at the suc- ceeding date, and feast-days and Sundays are pretty well observed.. Although the Oblates do not require the people to bring their dead to the shore, they do it when possible, for burial in consecrated ground; yet along most of the travelled routes of the south are a few graves, marked sometimes by wooden cross and fence. The burial spots are held in respect by the passers-by ; camps are not made very near, nor the peace of the place disturbed. CHAPTER VIII THE MISSIONS By W. T. GRENFELL The Moravian Mission Ir a man in Labrador is not a fisherman, that is, a cod- catcher, he traps fur-bearing animals in winter and catches salmon in summer. The trappers form a class apart from the rest of the shore people. They seldom come out “to the coast,’ their winter industry keeping them far inland and their summer salmon-catching being convenient in not forcing them to transfer their families very far down the bays. There is, however, every gradation, from the moun- taineer Indian, who does nothing all the year but trap and kill deer, through the Eskimo, who once only killed seals, but now even catches furs and “‘fishes,’’ to the man who lives entirely ‘out of the water,” 7.e. never outfits for the winter furring. Until 1905 the trade of all these people was card on by two great companies, the Hudson’s Bay Company and the Moravian Missions. The Hudson’s Bay Company originally dealt only with Indians, but the intermarriage and settling of their own imported servants have built up a class which beats the Indians at their own industry, and now does a far larger trade in fur. The Indians are reduced to a mere handful, while the strong Scotch and Norwegian 226 Okkak THE MISSIONS AT stock is steadily growing and displacing both Indians and Eskimo. Farther north, the Moravians care for the Eskimo. The Hudson’s Bay Company have also made a bid for their trade, establishing posts at Nachvak (since abandoned) and at Ungava. At present the Moravians have four stations. The most northerly station is that at Killinek, or Cape Chidley. Here the Eskimo, attracted by the excellent seal-fishery, walrus, and white-whale fishery to be had at the cape, have gathered from the northeast coast and from Ungava Bay. Though the turbulent currents and whirlpools are dangerous to kayaks, the Eskimo have no fear of venturing out, and, at times, cross to the Button Islands to hunt there. A man with his family will, in the spring, transfer all his belongings to a pan of ice at Fort Chimo, and live by hunting and shooting on the floating ice till he arrives at the cape, one hundred and eighty miles distant. He finds no monotony, feels no cold, and knows no fear of conditions which would whiten the hair of many a bold European. At the present time one Moravian family dwells at the © station. They have themselves built a house, church, and stores. Even the church is admirably constructed to keep out the cold. It is floored under the sills, double floored over them, and filled between with cement. Thick tarred paper in one piece runs up in a similar manner be- tween the layers of the wall. To Europeans the site seems the most villainous dwelling-place possible. The settle- ment is situated in a deep gulch with a wall of rock opposite, shutting out any view; a terribly dangerous current runs through the defile. The tides rise and fall thirty-five feet. The land is entirely bare of woody growth, even shrubs, 228 LABRADOR and for firing the people must depend on what driftwood is washed up, or else on seal-fat lamps. The average tem- perature for the year is far below freezing. One mail a year is the most the people can ever expect. They can reach and talk to no Europeans, except possibly by a long and dangerous shore journey taken once in the winter. | In sickness or accident there is no skilled help. Yet these patient missionaries have just selected this spot for a station. | The missionary in charge at present is a splendid speci- men of humanity, broad and strong far beyond the average man, with merry blue eyes, and the abundant light hair of a Viking. He has a capacity for work, and an accuracy of mind rarely equalled. His hospitality and generous manner toward strangers, along with all his other splendid qualities, make him the ideal man for the environment. One could imagine that he had dropped off an ancient ‘‘war swan”’ and had persisted ever since those days on these seemingly God-forsaken rocks. The man’s scorn of physical conditions, the hard things that he has moulded to his will and use, the absolute happiness he always seems to enjoy, have shown to me, each time I have visited the station, how man, as God would have him be, towers above his circumstances. One leaves the station regretting that so few should be there to benefit, humbled and glad that men of such type still live to adorn the. human race. Other thoughts, I confess, have risen to my mind in the enervating palaces of some of those ‘‘more wealthy.” Few furs are caught there. The white fox and the polar bear alone are not uncommon. The sight and smell of seal and walrus blubber are everywhere. Fat is the meas- THE MISSIONS 229 ure of wealth. Fat in gallons is the coin of their realm. To the Eskimo of the place, such a man and his mission mean everything, pessimists notwithstand- ing. Proceeding north one passes an abandoned station of the Hudson Bay Company called Nakvak. Beyond that, near the old station of Ramah, about a hundred miles to the southeastward, the Eskimo dwell in holes in the ground with skin bowel-parchment windows that do not open, and with roofs and entrances made of sods. There are no islands near to supply birds and eggs; the decrease in the number of seal and walrus and the low market or local value of sea-trout have seriously impoverished the people. This poverty means that they are poorly equipped for travel ; in consequence, they dawdle about the unsavoury village when they should be seeking and finding sustenance, gaining health and strength by migrating from place to place as they always did of yore. Here they are much more dependent upon the missionary, upon his supply of clothing, and upon his kablenak or European food, than is good for them. From their physical condition it is perfectly easy to tell a Ramah Eskimo from a Cape Chidley man, though you may never have seen either previously. A journey to the southward of nearly another hundred miles brings us to the third station at Hebron. This is still a good hunting station. Its Eskimo have been wisely taught by the Brethren to segregate and not congregate. No permanent village has come into being. A few sod houses and one or two better houses exist. This would to-day be probably far the most creditable settlement of Eskimo, had it not been for the carrying of several families 230 LABRADOR to show them to the curious at the exhibitions at Chicago, Buffalo, and elsewhere. Few returned, and they richer only in those heirlooms of civilization, the germs of specific diseases, which most efficiently put a stop to the growth of the community, and left a diseased and miserable people to be a constant danger to every “Innuit”’ on the coast. Another forty miles to the south was Okkak, the largest station. It is within the northern limit of trees, and consequently houses, boats, and firmg were more easily acquired. A large number of permanent wooden houses had been erected. At certain seasons of the year considerable social life was possible. The an- nual census shows that during the fifty years previous to 1902 the congregation was steadily growing in numbers. Some small arts and crafts were established and quite a trade done in ivory carvings, in modern skin dolls, tubiks or tents, kayaks, etc., and in wooden models of native houses, komatiks, and such like. This station was entirely blotted out in 1919 by Spanish influenza. Out of 365 Eskimo 300 perished including every single adult male. It has been tem- porarily abandoned but when Nain was destroyed by fire in 1921 a large portion of that congregation returned to reopen Okkak. The Brethren here had a little hospital besides their educational and religious work. At first the ‘“Innuits” would not subject themselves to the necessary hospital regulations. We carried thither the first patients in our little hospital steamer. A severe epidemic of grippe (with heart troubles and other complications) was killing many. We had picked up a full load, and dumped them on the new West Coast Eskimo THE MISSIONS 231 doctor. It was a new experience to see an Eskimo trying to accommodate himself toa bed. The warmth of the ward was objectionable. The additional heat of bedclothes was intolerable. Washed to a fine nut-brown, with their jet- black hair and large, dark eyes, they formed a most pleas- ing contrast to the white sheets on which they lay when we paid our first morning visit. Covering of any kind they had long disposed of, and even then they were perspiring and panting. Nature seems to have taught them what civilization has made us forget, — the value of fresh air. In a terribly fatal epidemic of typhoid fever in 1896, I had tried to persuade some of my patients to remain in their tents when very feverish. In one case I had endeavoured to enforce my ruling by removing the patient’s garments. Such a trifling “impediment” had not daunted him. Why stay under cover when you are hot? Next morning when I returned, I found him stark-naked, huddled up in the cold, waiting for the doctor and the ravished clothes. He eventually recovered, in spite of me. Nain, the fifth station, is ninety miles farther south, and accessible by mail steamer. It is a perfect harbour, en- tirely shut in from the sea by countless islands, great and small. Its beautiful bay runs inland over forty miles, and one can travel by steamer for a hundred miles south without once going into the open ocean. Nain is at once the head station of the Brethren, the seat of the Bishop, who is also a German consul, and is of the oldest standing. The well-tended vegetable patches, the tidy paths through the woods so long preserved, and now so lonely looking against the otherwise absolutely naked ground, the prim flower-gardens, and the orthodox tea-houses (with more 232 LABRADOR often than not the now inappropriate picture of the Kaiser), combine to transport a visitor momentarily to Europe, to the German homes which these good men have left, never to return. I had the pleasure —a partly melancholy pleasure — of introducing the first gramophone to the attention of a venerable brother who had not visited his home for many years. As he drew near the room in which the machine was playing some musical record, I saw the unbidden tear roll down my dear old friend’s cheek, as even that crude music irresistibly called to memory former happy days when the music of the Fatherland was all about him. Near Nain is a great outcrop of blue labradorite. The hunting and fishing near this station are also excellent at times, and there are many things to attract the visitor. But first amongst these are the hospitable Brethren and the neat congregations at their regular services, where the excellent singing and orchestral playing of the Eskimo men and women is a revelation to the stranger. | This station is the head of the trade, too. For the Mis- sion is an industrial one, and therein, to my mind, lies its immense value. It not only tends to the mind and spirit, but it looks after the ‘vile body.’’ Had it not been so during the last one hundred and fifty years, there would now be no bodies through which to get at souls. There can be no question the Moravians have so far saved the native population for Labrador. The more numerous Eskimo that once flourished between Hopedale, their south- ernmost Eskimo station, and Anticosti Island, are gone almost to a singleman. Eskimo once were numerous on both sides the Straits of Belle Isle. At Battle and at Cart- THE MISSIONS 233 wright in 1800 they were still numerous. Contact with white men has blotted them out like chalk from a black- board. I was intensely surprised to find by reference to their carefully kept registers from 1840 to 1890 that the con- gregations around all the stations had actually increased in numbers. It is not fair to estimate the numbers that should now exist on the coast by the average increase of Europeans, as some have done. In the wild state, untram- melled by civilization and unmodernized by missionaries, Eskimo can only exist in small numbers and scattered com- munities, anyhow. The casual reporter visiting Labrador has more than once severely criticised the trade methods of the Brethren, which involve comparative high prices on their goods. They have stigmatized them as robbers and oppressors. Indeed, they have been so misunderstood that their Conference has seriously considered abandoning their trading altogether. Were they to do so, there would, in a very brief time, be no need for their spiritual minis- trations. I do not believe any master of labour could possibly carry on industrial work like fishing and furring, for which the masters have to supply all gear, outfit, and provisions at their own risk, if they employed only Eskimo workmen. The fact is, they are not able to persevere, and though they are, man for man, far better educated than the men who come from hundreds of miles south and make a good living by fishing right at the Eskimo’s own door, yet they cannot compare with the Newfoundland and white fisher- men for perseverance and what is known on this coast as “snap.” An Eskimo does not get one fish for the other’s 234 LABRADOR ten. Thus the Moravians have been again and again saddled with debts sorely crippling their funds, for they assume a responsibility no ordinary master of labour does. They look after the poor, feed the infirm and helpless, tend the sick, educate the children, and, as well, minister to their spiritual needs, which involves up-keep of chapels, and all the attendant duties and expenses. They have recently altered their methods of trade. It is quite possible they might profitably be still further modernized, but no man need fear inquiring into this noble Mission who really is anxious for the extension of Christ’s Kingdom. The magnificent salary of the individual worker, includ- ing the Bishop, is £23 per annum, with dinner and tea found at a communal board, the wives taking it in turn each week to cook and superintend meals. The children at seven years of age, the most interesting period of child life, have to leave the parents, probably forever, to be educated at the Society’s schools in England or Germany. It is scarcely necessary to say that the missionaries have no personal in- terest in the trade, and that their small income only clothes and provides absolute necessities for the families. The present trade manager of the whole Mission, for many years past my most beloved friend, has made many long journeys with me all along the coast. He is an excellent photog- rapher, sending the pictures home to help the deputation workers to raise the necessary funds, and he is but the type of all their men with whom I have been acquainted these twenty years past. Soon after my arrival at this station, I asked him if they kept photographic material in the store. After seeing the Eskimo brass band perform, it seemed natural they should perform also the simpler functions of a [VALI SJeOG UOISSIJT OY} SUIWIOO[OM j99,4 BulUsIy VW . . » + n c 4 ey a ‘ Fel 7 wae ” ‘ Ae ‘ 2 * ‘ oS - ~ run’ bs . t a’ ny A > : « ~ A 7 ; y i e ~ a ‘ 2 , THE MISSIONS 235 photographer. “No,” he replied, “but I have a small private stock.” ‘Would you sell me some printing paper? IT have run out.” “We may not sell privately,” he replied, ‘but I shall be glad to give you half mine.” “But that you cannot afford to do. You must let me at least defray the actual cost.” ‘The Society gives us £23 a year,” he said, “and that supplies all our needs. What do I want more money for? We have everything we can possibly need.” The stores, church, school, and mission house were burned in 1921 at the very time of their 150th anniver- sary, to the terrible set back of their beautiful work. Some ninety miles to the south again is Hopedale, the sixth station. It is the southern border of the tribe now, and one cannot visit the station without feeling forcibly that the fringe is ravelling out, and that the race in Labrador is facing its inevitable doom. Mixed with the dying, purer type, are an increasing and stronger element of half-breeds. It is in these that much of the hope for the future population of Labrador at present lies. Here one of the Brethren has had some medical training, and has, single-handed, done some excellent work in emer- gency cases. The Brethren here, also, have done a con- siderable amount of scientific work in the past, both in climatology, botany, and ornithology. The last Moravian station is at Makkovik, fifty miles south. It was only erected in 1900, and was put there in the hope of fostering the scattered half-breeds and settlers who are slowly beginning to populate that section of coast. It is a valuable stand for those travelling the coast in winter. It hasnow asmall boarding school during winter. 236 LABRADOR To no other people on earth does the lonely Labrador owe one-half the debt it does to these devoted servants of the Moravian Mission. The Methodist church is carrying on work among the settlers, with local headquarters for their mission at Rigolet. The Anglican church has, for many years, supported a mis- sion, with headquarters at Battle Harbour. The International Grenfell Association In the report of the Newfoundland Chamber of Com- merce for 1892, the following item appeared : — ‘A new feature worthy of mention in this report, affecting as it does, more or less, the comfort of twenty thousand to thirty thousand of our people, was the appearance on the Labrador coast of the Mission to Deep-sea Fishermen ship Albert, outfitted by a philanthropical society in England, unsectarian in its lines, and intended to convey skilled medical aid to our fishermen and provide to some extent for their mental and material wants. This essay has been an unqualified success, and has evoked from the recipients of its bounty expressions of deep gratitude. It is hkely to result in well-organized cooperation by the Colony next season upon the lines along which the Mission ship is being worked.” The Mission to Deep-sea Fishermen had, for some twenty years, been working among the great fleets that travel all over the North Sea. The Mission owned a dozen vessels, including one steamer. These were mostly fishing vessels, but in command of men who sought by word and deed to carry the Gospel of Christ to their comrades by the prac- tical messages of love of the “Good Samaritan.” Four of the vessels had small hospitals on board, and each carried THE MISSIONS Dol a doctor. The Mission had driven the liquor traffic off the sea, built homes at the seaports, and provided for religious services, for good reading, and for the care of those in trouble and want. The Mission Council, at the request of Sir Francis Hopwood, one of its members, had sent their medical superintendent to see if similar work were needed among the Bankers and Newfoundland fishermen. The Mission yawl Albert, of one hundred and fifty-one tons bur- den, sailed out, and after a season among the fishermen of the Labrador coast, called into St. John’s to report be- fore sailing back to England. ‘The governor of the colony called a meeting at Government House of all the principal men, to receive the report. As a result, on the proposal of the Prime Minister, the following resolution was passed unanimously : — “That this meeting, representing the principal merchants and traders carrying on the fisheries, especially on the Labrador coast, and others interested in the welfare of this colony, desires to tender its warmest thanks to the direct- ors of the Deep-sea Mission for sending their hospital ship Albert to visit the settlement on the Labrador coast. ‘Much of our fishing industry is carried on in regions beyond the ordinary reach of medical aid, or of charity, and it is with the deepest sense of gratitude that this meeting learns of the amount of medical and surgical work done. . . . “This meeting also desires to express the hope that the directors may see their way to continue the work thus begun, and should they do so, they may be assured of the earnest cooperation of all classes of this community.”’ The government of Newfoundland promised to excuse the Mission from paying any duties on bringing in goods, except any for sale. 238 LABRADOR With open water in spring the Albert returned, carrying two additional doctors and nurses, together with fittings and drugs for two small hospitals. The first stationed at Battle Harbour was the gift of a merchant. The gov- ernment of Newfoundland supplied a well-skilled pilot for the ship, and excused all dues of every kind. The second hospital was erected at Indian Harbour 200 miles north and a smart steam-launch supplied for use in the remote corners. At the present time the Society has six small hospitals: one at Harrington on the Canadian Labrador, one at St. Anthony on the northeast coast of Newfoundland, one at Pitteys Island, Newfoundland, one at Northwest River N. Labrador, and the original two at Battle Harbour and Indian Harbour. Indian Harbour issituated on an island in the entrance to Hamilton Inlet, two hundred miles north of the Strait of Belle Isle; Battle Harbour, just where the Strait meets the Atlantic Ocean. An experience of thirty years of work at sea among fishermen has proved for me that the brotherhood of the sea, and possibly the frequent looking of death in the face, can transcend the animosity engendered between man and man by sectarianism on the land. The raison d’étre of the Mission is to commend to men who daily face the perils and privations of the sea, the Gospel of Christ as the practical rule of life by commending it in exactly those practical services its workers would desire in their circumstances. It labours to form no church. It seeks to inculeate no submission to any theories or shibboleths. It aims at adherence to no intellectual dogma. St. Anthony Hospital Interior of St. Anthony Hospital THE MISSIONS 239 No continuous presentment of Christ’s evangel by hu- man agency can ever hope to be free from deserving criti- cism. In an environment where sectarianism is still medieval, opposition to Christian work of an unsectarian nature is inevitable. The staff of this Mission have felt it part of their privilege and duty to endeavour to induce new social conditions, though that involved conflict with previously existing powers. They have also endeavoured to inaugurate enterprises which appeared to them truer forms of charitable work than the easy but ever recurring distribution of clothes and nourishing food to people who only needed saving from a system that was alone responsible for their nakedness and hunger. When the Gospel comes in conflict with what some consider the “real business of life,” — that is, money-making, —it should be prepared for hostility. The following brief table illustrates the inter- pretation which the Mission, with its limited capacities, has considered most likely to commend the Gospel in the circumstances prevailing in Labrador : — 1892. The hospital vessel Albert sailed from Eng- land with one doctor in charge. He reported nine hundred cases of sickness and accident that would not have received treatment but for the visit of the | ship. 1893. Battle Harbour hospital was presented by friends in St. John’s, Newfoundland, and opened during the summer under a qualified nurse and doctor. The launch Princess May was added to enable the ship to do more work. The great need for social service was recog- nized. The work of providing wood fuel for the steamer even being a factor of value. | 240 LABRADOR 1894. Indian Harbour hospital was opened for the summer, and for the first time Battle Harbour hospital was kept open in winter. The doctor, with dogs and sledges, travelled eighteen hundred miles of coast during the winter. 1895. The sailing hospital was replaced by the steamer Sir Donald, the gift of Sir Donald A. Smith, who had lived many years in Labrador. Owing to losing her propeller on a shoal she was towed to St. John’s for repairs. 1896. A small cooperative store was started at Red Bay in the Strait of Belle Isle, to help the settlers to escape the “truck system” of trade, and the consequent loss of independence and thrift. Four other cooperative stores have since been opened, with very beneficial results to the poorest. The Sir Donald was carried out from her harbour by the winter ice, and found far at sea, still frozen in, by the seal hunters. She had to be sold. 1897. The steam-launch Julia Sheridan, given by a Toronto lady, replaced the Sir Donald. A large Mission hall was attached to Indian Harbour hospital for the use of the fishermen. Two thousand patients were treated. Some orphan children were taken to America. The doctors were appointed magistrates for Labrador, which enabled them to help in several cases of right against might. 1899. Largely through the munificence of the Mission’s staunch friend, Lord Strathcona, the Canadian High Commissioner, the steel hospital steamer Strathcona was built at Dartmouth, England, and fitted with every avail- able modern appliance. At the request of the settlers, a doctor wintered in north Newfoundland and travelled THE MISSIONS 241 all around the north coast. The people cut, hauled out, and erected the frame for a hospital at St. Anthony. 1900. The Strathcona steamed out to Labrador. The settlers on the Newfoundland shore of the Strait of Belle Isle completed the hospital at St. Anthony. A codpera- tive store was started at Brehat. | 1901. A small codperative lumber mill was opened with the purpose of helping the settlers of the poorest district, who often faced semi-starvation, to find remun- erative work in winter. The schooner Coéperator was pur- chased and rebuilt by the people to assist in the business of the codperative stores. 1902. A new wing was added to Battle Harbour hospital, with a fine convalescent room and a new operating room. Indian Harbour hospital was also considerably enlarged. Two thousand seven hundred and seventy-four patients received treatment, one hundred and ten of these being in-patients in the little hospitals. The launch Julia Sheri- dan was chartered by the government and was directed by one of the medical officers to suppress an outbreak of smallpox. Some destitute children were taken to Canada. 1903. Some new outbuildings were added to the In- dian Harbour hospital, and a mortuary and store were built at Battle Harbour hospital. The third and fourth codperative stores were started at West St. Modiste and at Flower’s Cove to encourage cash dealing and thrift. The Princess May went out of commission, and was sold. Some children were taken to Newfoundland. The only licensed house in Labrador was closed, the owner R 242 LABRADOR being sent to jail for the crime of barratry. The Mis- sion superintendent accepted the position of agent for Lloyd’s. 1904. A new doctor’s house was built at Battle Har- bour to enable the station to remain open all winter. A motor-launch replaced the more expensive steamer Julia Sheridan. An orphanage was built at St. An- thony hospital to accommodate fifteen children. A building was also added for teaching loom work and general carpentering with lathe work, and a teacher engaged. 1905. A doctor was appointed at the request of the people on the Canadian Labrador, with headquarters at Harrington, near Cape Whittle, on the north side of the Gulf of St. Lawrence. The first schooners were built at the lumber mill, which is now run codperatively by the people themselves. During the summer two con- sulting surgeons from Boston joined the hospital steamer to help in the work. Through the generosity of Mr. Andrew Carnegie, between thirty and forty small port- able libraries, each containing from fifty to one hun- dred books, were distributed along the coast. A fox farm was started in the hope of inducing a profit- able industry in the breeding of the more valuable furs. 1906. Through the help of friends in Montreal and Toronto, a new hospital and a doctor’s house were built at Harrington, and a second launch, called the Northern Mes- senger, was given for the work there and new hickory sledges, the wood for which is not obtainable in the north. Some new buildings were erected at St. Anthony, including at a ial ie Battle Harbour—the Hospital on the Left A Visitor from the North THE MISSIONS 243 some small farm out-buildings, and some land taken up from the Newfoundland government witha view to trying to introduce cattle. In connection with the codperative store at Flower’s Cove, an industry of making sealskin boots has sprung up, and fifteen hundred pairs were exported this summer (1906). Around these small industries it is possible to congregate women and children in the winter for the purpose of better education. This year a grant of $500 per annum to each hospital was made by the Newfoundland gov- ernment. 1907. A new wharf with stores for clothing and for coal, and a large mission room, were added to Battle Harbour. The gifts of warm garments could thus be rationally given out against work done. Funds, including a $5000 grant from the Canadian government, were raised, and three hundred reindeer with Lapp attendants were imported, with the hope of starting a regular in- dustry on the lines of that so successful in Alaska. An- gora goats were presented by friends in the United States, and were brought to the settlements; it is hoped that these animals will increase and yield the wool for a new weaving industry. Several volunteers joined the staff; in the number were the lady in charge of the orphanage, the electrical engineer in charge of the general mechanical work, and a teacher for night school and library work. The fourth hospital was kept open by a volunteer doctor from Harvard University, and volunteer nurses from England. A highly experienced teacher of ‘‘arts and crafts’ took charge of the industrial work at St. Anthony this year. 244 LABRADOR A large new schooner was built at the mill, and a Gloucester schooner, the Lorna Doone, purchased in Boston. A volunteer doctor was stationed at the large summer fishery at Blanc Sablon. Trained nurses from the Johns Hopkins hospital took charge of districts on each side of the Strait of Belle Isle; nurses teaching sanitation and tending the sick. A skilled teacher was placed at St. Anthony and another at L’Anse Amour. Because of the increasing consulting and operating work, an additional surgeon was added to the staff working either on the hospital ship or at St. Anthony. For this work Dr. J. Mason Little, of Boston, volunteered. Mr. W. G. Lindsay, of Queenstown, Ireland, also volunteer, took charge of the reindeer industry. The growth of the medical work is shown by the following summary of cases treated in 1907: In-patients, 193. Out-patients, 4720. Operations under general anesthetics, 80. A doctor’s house was built at St. Anthony. A new motor- launch was given in Washington for the doctor’s use, and navigated down to the coast by volunteers from Yale Uni- versity. Several additional volunteer nurses and workers gave their aid during the open season. A large codperative store was started at St. Anthony. Electric power and electrical therapeutic apparatus were there installed. A permanent nursing centre was built at Forteau. The condition of the fishermen and their families in the far-off places, even of Newfoundland itself, are described in many places by many people. I may quote here from Admiral Sir W. R. Kennedy, well known as an author, and THE MISSIONS 245 well able to judge, as he spent much time visiting per- sonally from place to place when patrolling with his ships in the western part of the North Atlantic. He writes: — “On our visit round the island we met with sights enough to sicken one, and we felt ashamed to think that these poor creatures were British subjects like ourselves. On part of Labrador the people were actually starving last winter, owing to a bad fishing season, and many would have starved altogether had it not been for a steamer wrecked on their coast, loaded with bullock and flour.” The same observer, writing in 1881, says: — “These poor people, ground down as they are by the detestable ‘ truck system,’ live and die hopelessly in debt, living from hand to mouth without a shilling to call their own. Possibly education may in time awaken them to a sense of their degradation, but at present there seems no remedy for this evil. A bad season throws hundreds of these unfortunates upon the government, and no less than $100,000 is paid out annually in pauper relief among a total population of 180,000.” On my own first cruise along the Labrador coast, coming straight from a happier land, I was deeply impressed with the ruling terror of poverty and semi-starvation implied by the conditions then prevailing. The nakedness of the people was an insistent and deplorable feature ever facing the doctor as his calling made him a witness of the mean material, miserable flannelet or cotton, within the reach of a folk living in a subarctic climate. The wretched monot- ony of their cheap (truly the most expensive) foods; the small, bare, squalid huts; the ignorance and apathy of men and women; the absolute neglect of the crudest sanita- 246 LABRADOR tion, were all seen to be parts of a great, cruel, vicious circle in which these thousands were living. Neverthe- less, from the very first, I was not a pessimist. With vastly more certainty to-day, I hold to the view that all these people can be freed and elevated, and a sterling race of workers happily preserved. The International Grenfell Association has set itself to help solve this problem, not merely by telling these men of the tenets of the Christian faith, as new facts of which they have never heard. The solution appears to the Mission to lie rather in example than in precept. The method aimed at is*to illustrate in practice the atti- tude Christ would assume to-day in the varying phases of the fisherman’s life. From the inception of this work no man has, therefore, ever been engaged in the capacity of priest or clergyman though two splendid young Oxford graduates have taken up Labrador and North Newfoundland as their parishes with the consent of the Bishop. The staff has been always confined to laymen and to women specially trained. To the sick the message has been, hospitals, power- launches carrying medicine-cases, and in winter well- equipped dog-sleighs, and many thousands of miles cov- ered in visits from Natasquahan in the Gulf to Nain on the northeast coast, and from Port Sanders on the west to Whooping Harbour on the east coast of Newfoundland with nursing stations and the hospital steamer. Within reach of the naked, clothing has been placed, their independence being carefully preserved by work Mission -S..S. "Strathcona ** ase aa ia THE MISSIONS 247 demanded in return wherever the recipients were able- bodied. In relation to equity, complaints have been brought before the medical officer as honorary magistrate, and as far as possible settled; claims considered and as far as possible adjusted, over the three thousand miles travelled by the hospital steamers, which has had many times to resolve itself into a court of justice. In view of the terrible ignorance of ordinary health pre- cautions that was costing the people so dearly, and in re- lation to the treatment of young children and methods of sanitation, printed rules and catechisms have not only been distributed, but taught from end to end of the district. The medical officers are encouraged: by the steadily increasing observance of sanitary rules. Half a dozen specially-trained nutritional teachers also work along the coast each summer holding baby clinics. , | To aid in destroying the oppressive “truck system”’ of trade, which keeps its poor victims in a sort of apathetic satisfaction with a hopeless state of slavery, codperative distributive stores were established, which have paid good dividends, cheapened articles of necessity, and brought also within reach of the people an opportunity to become free of debt and servile dependence on those from whom they obtained supplies. 1Sir Henry McCallum, a recent governor of Newfoundland, in a private letter dated in 1901, says: ‘‘One thing you will be rejoiced to hear, the ministry has introduced legislation for bringing into force the Truck Act of 1831. This is one of the most important steps in the history of Newfoundland. By the Truck Act, supplies cannot discharge a debt 248 LABRADOR In relation to ignorance: where once scarcely a single settler could read or write, and where ignorance always meant serious disadvantage in economic relations, travel- ling loan libraries have been established. A large school at St. Anthony and some ten or twelve small summer schools, have been established. To the absolute helplessness of orphan childhood there can be only one Christian sermon; that was first preached by carrying the child to another country where it could be fed and clothed, and to-day by a large orphanage to accommodate sixty children in North Newfoundland, and one with forty-five children in Labrador. Some of the poverty caused by the impossibility of obtaining remunerative work has been relieved through the industry of the lumber mill, through the industries of schooner, barge, and boat building, sealskin boot mak- ing, and through other small efforts to use the country’s own resources. The I. A. A. has now also a fine indus- trial department where hooked mats, homespun, toys, embroidered skin and grass basket work are made, many thousands of dollars worth being sold every year. A regular tannery has also been established, giving both labor and better boots and moccasins. or balance. Not only is the supplier liable to severe punishment, but the debt or balance still holds good in spite of supplies having been given, and can be sued for. Also, if in the absence of shops or passing suppliers necessaries of life have to be given by employees, they must be at cost price for cash, the price for outfits being a definite percentage above St. John’s prices to cover cost of freight and charges. The trouble is, however, we have good laws but bad customs, and poor execution of law.” THE MISSIONS 249 Open hostility to the liquor traffic has always been the attitude of the Mission. Illicit rumsellers have been ferreted out and fined, or otherwise punished. — In St. John’s itself, where fifty saloons have pro- | vided the entertainment for the thousands of our Labrador fishermen who resort there, a large tem- perance institute on modern lines has been erected. Two years ago the whole Colony went ‘Prohibi- tion.” In the great need of milk for children, need of meat to ward off scurvy, and need for an additional source of revenue for the people, the best advocate for the message may be the introduction of reindeer; and a herd of three hundred of these animals was introduced into Labrador and Newfoundland. ‘This has since been turned over to the Canadian Govern- ment. The actually starving have been admitted to hospital for feeding pure and simple. On many occasions the homeless and travelling strangers have been entertained. As far as possible, the hospitals have always stood for hotels as well. That Christ would interpret the love of the Father in Heaven to His children on this coast merely by the erec- tion of churches, the duplication of religious services, the insisting on an orthodox intellectual attitude by doctrinal methods, has not been the premise on which the work has been developed. To say that the re- sults are imperfect is to say the work is human work. To say that visible progress, acknowledged progress, has been made, is a simple statement of fact. We 250 LABRADOR are working for the time when no ‘‘mission”’ need work among these men of Labrador, for they will be self- sustained and powerful in their simple, wholesome life by the sea. CHAPTER IX REINDEER FOR LABRADOR By W. T. GRENFELL It has been shown that almost all species of deer are susceptible to domestication, and that under intelligent management they can be raised for a profit. Venison is chemically almost identical with beef, and when in good condition is fully as nutritious. It is palatable, and fetches a good price in the market, seventy-five cents per pound being no uncommon price in the larger cities. The horns and hide are also valuable. The range of many of the most valuable deer was once far wider than at present, and there are vast sections of the earth now lying useless which could with ease support herds of these valuable food-producing animals, if anything approaching the energy and capital expended on the im- provements and propagation of vegetable food-supplies were devoted to them. In the course of ages the upheavals and subsidences of the earth’s surface have made new countries with environ- ments suitable for deer; yet these lands are untenanted by deer solely because large tracts of water have isolated the lands and left barriers impassable for the animals. In this way vast areas now lie vacant which could 251 252 LABRADOR nurture many of these animals for the service of man. Peary’s discovery of the white reindeer which are main- taining themselves far north of the Arctic Circle, in spite of the almost Stygian darkness of the long winters and in spite of the minimal food-supply available, shows that even when Nature displays the very least generosity, animals of this family possess a phenomenal fitness to survive. Moreover, it has also been shown by countless experiments with many species of animals, that by careful treatment of those introduced into new environments, traits can in time be developed that will enable the species to flourish in the new home. The natural distribution of the reindeer is almost entirely limited to the subarctic regions. Wet and cold offer no terrors to them; the humblest lichen affords them a source of nutriment; only the very deepest snowfalls can prevent their digging down to their food-supply; and they can range and multiply so far north that even their one enemy, the timber-wolf, cannot reach them. The wonderful hoofs of these members of the ungulate family are faced with an ever renewing hard exterior, which, like the beaver’s tooth, is only made sharper by being used, and which enables the deer to cut down even through snow protected with an icy covering. At the same time they possess large dew- claws, or hooflets, which increase the spread of their large splay-feet, and enable the deer to travel and escape danger over snow in which any of our common cattle would be hopelessly engulfed and destroyed. The experiments of introducing domestic reindeer into Alaska were first undertaken by the famous missionary, Dr. Sheldon Jackson, and have been since assumed and REINDEER FOR LABRADOR 253 prosecuted to a marvellously successful issue by the United States government. These experiments have conclusively proved the adaptability of this particular animal to do- mestication in the Arctic for the service of mankind. Along the sea-shore, especially, the natives have readily taken to the task of propagating and using them, and already whole settlements are being supplied from these new herds. One Hskimo woman surnamed “ Reindeer Mary” has even risen to wealth, owning many hundreds of deer, and, what is more important, shown herself capable in this way of consider- able intellectual development. She thus indicates one line at any rate, along which the natives of Alaska may hope to escape extinction through the increasing contact and competition with the advancing white men. Few other animals on the earth’s surface offer as much to man with so little outlay. With scarcely any aid, races of men can subsist on what these beasts alone can provide. For transport they have been shown, under right circumstances, to be able to compete with the Eskimo dog in speed and endurance. On the Alaskan tundra, where the snowfall is much like that of Labrador, they have been an unqualified success. On journeys they can find their own food by the way — an item most important, for the dogs are obliged to carry this additional, and by no means inconsiderable, burden with them. Reindeer are now used not only for packing over open land uncovered with snow in summer-time, when dogs are entirely useless, but they are in regular use for running the United States mail service in the depth of an Arctic winter. Geldings are said to be far more readily trained to harness than stags, and are easier to keep in good physical condition. 954 LABRADOR At a pinch, one’s steeds may be killed and eaten with relish, while the carcass, where meat supplies are scarce, is always of incomparable value. The tongues and kidneys form great delicacies, and the tongues may be smoked for ex- port. A good-sized stag will weigh three hundred pounds, and has for meat alone fetched $50 in the Alaskan markets. The large, thickly haired skin of caribou or of the Lapland reindeer is invaluable for many purposes, —for boots, clothing, sleeping-bags, tents, and blankets. These skins need scarcely any preparatory treatment. Dehaired and dressed, they make most satisfactory clothing for use in cold climates. The sleek, dark-brown hair of the early fall affords a very beautiful material for ladies’ jackets or motor coats, and picked skins for such purposes should well repay exportation; two dollars apiece is the present local price for Labrador deer skins. Some of our deer have snow-white skins in winter, and the hair is as thick as a cocoanut fibre mat. Moccasins manufactured from the thinner deer skins make the warmest foot-gear known. The heavier stag skins fur- nish admirable light, soft, flexible over-clothes. They are perfectly wind proof, and, when dressed for use, fetch fifty cents to one dollar per pound weight. Stretched, undressed, they are sold by the pound as parchment; this, cut into strips, is rolled up, and sold as babbage, out of which all the fillings for snow-shoes aremade. Of this, also, are made the lashings for our sledges and the harness for our dogs. The tough thongs show remarkable elastic strength as they feel the jarring and jolting of the rough trails. The very tendons that are useless as food are amongst our most valuable acquisitions, affording our women all the sewing OZEID J99PUIOY SU} DIDUA\ eer aysisione ican 0 mate trem ent arin! REINDEER FOR LABRADOR 255 material they need for making boots, skin-boats (or kayaks), and clothing. These animal tendons are taken and dried, and fetch from ten to fifty cents for each animal. They strip easily into single fibres, and these separate threads form a strong sewing material, which resists water, and yet, when used in boots intended to be water-tight, swells up as soon as the boots are immersed in moisture. In this way leakage through the needle holes is prevented. The tendons do not rot easily, nor do they tear the skin sub- stances, for they contract and expand with that material. Even the horns and hoofs are valuable, and furnish many of the household essentials of the natives. Some of these various manufactured products can be exported to the EHuropean markets. Reindeer may thus largely increase the earning capacity of any region, by converting its unsalable material into valuable products. The fresh rich milk of the does in the summer has also supplied us with what is a vital necessity, and one which was obtainable in Labrador in no other way; while the excellent and easily made cheeses afford a method of storing the nutriment in a palatable and assimilable form without any necessary outlay for a preserving plant. Reindeer have shown themselves to be regular breeders, comparing more than favourably with ordinary cattle stock. Reindeer herds may be expected to at least double them- selves in three years. Does will breed the second year, and after that with great regularity bear one fawn as a rule, though occasionally two. Only a comparatively few stags are needed to serve a large number of does. So ~ large were our own Newfoundland fawns at the end of their first season, in this our first year of experiment, that 256 LABRADOR many of the yearlings were covered by the stags. The domesticated herds in Siberia have thus increased to such an extent that it is possible to buy full-grown animals at fifty cents per head, and Mr. Vanderlip, in his Search for a Siberian Klondike, states that he could purchase them as low as twenty-five cents a head as food for his dogs. Similarly, George Kennan tells me that he bought many at fifty cents apiece for dog food in Siberia. It has even been stated that the fecundity of reindeer may be liable to become a positive nuisance. In the bot-fly the deer has an enemy which greatly worries him, but which does not appear seriously to injure him. The fly pierces the outer skin and leaves the egg underneath, where the larva grows and develops through the winter, in probably the only place where it would not freeze. In the spring the fly hatches out and leaves its birthplace. These large bot larve projecting under the skin are picked off and eaten by the Alaskans as a choice delicacy. In the ethmoid cells of these deer, at the root of the nose close to the skull, there are also always to be found a number of large maggots in various stages of de- velopment. These give rise to a coryza, fortunately not fatal, which leads the animal to sneeze out the larve in great quantities. We have otherwise found no disease likely to trouble the imported reindeer in Newfound- land. During thirty years of medical mission work on the coast of North Newfoundland and Labrador, I have dis- ’ covered that one out of every three of our deaths on the coast is due to tuberculosis; that one out of every three na- tive babies died before reaching the age of one year. More- REINDEER FOR LABRADOR 257 over, rickets, scurvy, multiple neuritis, blindness from corneal ulcerations in marasmic children, and other diseases of insufficient nourishment were rife among a people en- joying a bracing, pure air, undefiled by human or other exhalations, and in a country entirely free of endemic diseases. There were no milk-producing animals on all our coasts except a couple of cows and a handful of goats. The trading system and the people’s poverty put even the tinned article out of the question. We were wont to see ill-fed mothers, without milk to suckle their babes, chewing hard bread, and thus after predigesting it in theirown mouths, trying to maintain life in their wizened offspring, till they should attain the age at which nature furnishes them with the salivary glands, and enables them to convert “‘loaf”’ into the assimilable sugars for themselves. Milk, milk, milk, seemed to us the great cry from the coast. It seemed impossible to supply it from either sheep or cows or goats on any large scale, since every family is obliged to maintain at least half a dozen dogs for hauling fuel and for travelling, and thus every village had a throng of fifty to one hundred of these hungry, half- fed beasts. The dogs, even at long distances from their own homes, go hunting exactly like wolves in large packs, and have killed the cattle as fast as it has been introduced. Thus it seemed impossible that we could maintain cattle and dogs together, and our medical staff had beer. compelled to do the best it could with a scanty supply of tinned milk. In any case, cows and goats need feeding in winter, and imported hay cost us $40 aton. A cow eats two tons, even on a ration diet during our long winter, and it would cost us therefore twice as much as the cow was worth 8 258 LABRADOR for her winter hay. All our people are forced by the neces- sity of their poverty to resort to the outer seaboard during the whole of our four warm months. There the Arctic current renders us liable to sudden frosts at night, and so gardening is unremunerative. Only one or two of our salmon-fishers who remain up the inlets all summer can collect the plentiful wild hay that grows there. The ex- periments of the Grand River Pulp Company in raising green oats or barley for fodder on the shore of Hamilton Inlet have been successful, but do not bear directly on the problem of procuring milk supplies on the outer coast, where most of our people live. It was in this dilemma that I turned to the Rev. Sheldon Jackson, to learn the results and prospects of his experi- ments with Siberian and Lapland reindeer in Alaska, which is a somewhat similar coast, and I went to Wash- ington to get our information at first hand. Meanwhile Sir Wiliam MacGregor, governor of Newfoundland, collected and sent to Kew Botanical Gardens specimens of all our mosses and lichens, and received from them a completely favourable report as to the suitability of our most abundant forms of vegetation to support these deer. Favouring the conviction that we were plunging into no unwise specula- tion, we had the evidence of the abundant natural herds of caribou, known to exist in the barren lands west of Hudson Bay, as well as the more direct evidence of the com- paratively large herds of caribou on the Labrador plateau, from which our native Indians still draw almost their entire food-supply. Moreover, we are familiar with the large numbers of caribou maintaining themselves against all odds Gncluding the extensive forest fires) in Newfound- weo}-190q V REINDEER FOR LABRADOR 259 land. These deer are of the same species as our domestic reindeer (Cervus tarandus), though of slightly different varieties, the barren-land caribou and the Canadian wood- land caribou being about the same size, but both of rather smaller growth than the Newfoundland woodland variety. This difference might reasonably be accredited to ages of access to a superior food-supply, and this has been one factor to influence us in keeping temporarily our small experimental herd on the south side of the Straits of Belle Isle. The herds in the Canadian barren-land are phe- nomenally large. The photographs taken by Mr. J. B. Tyrrell show interminable serried ranks on the march, re- sembling with their long, shght horns a vast army of spear- men. In 1909 a herd of half a million of these barren-land caribou was reported from Dawson City as travelling along the Tanana River beyond Sixty-mile River. The pro- cession was described as twenty miles wide. It seems to have been shown that deer, freed from the fear of man, have a great predilection for associating with domestic cattle. In New England, once they learn they have nothing to fear from man, deer will come down among the cattle almost into the farm-yard. Thus, the further hope that the young of the wild species might be cut out, corralled, and raised with a domestic herd without any fear of their again returning to the wild, seems to be assured. Also it has been shown that the two varieties can inter- breed successfully. On one occasion a Newfoundland cari- bou joined our herd; it so closely resembled our own deer that an English friend tried to knock up the rifle of the Lapp herder who was shooting it from twenty yards away. Again, two of these same caribou joined a section of the 260 LABRADOR herd sold by us to Mr. Mayson Beeton of Grand Lake and remained with his animals two days, coming in and out of his corral with the rest, while three of his tame ones wan- dered off for three weeks with their wild cousins and then returned, as if preferring the less strenuous life. Encouraged by all we had heard, we set to work, and col- lected a sum of $10,000 by public subscription, chiefly by the help of the Boston Transcript, and in addition the Cana- dian Federal Department of Agriculture voted $5000. The task of purchasing and shipping the deer and of securing their herders was intrusted to Mr. Francis Wood of London, England, who voluntarily proceeded to Norway and Lap- land for the purpose. Three hundred deer were eventually purchased. Of these, two hundred and fifty were does of an age to bear fawns in the spring, and fifty were stags; they were to be delivered on the beach at Altenfjord on the north coast of Lapland in lat. 71° north, at a cost of $8.50 apiece.t A contract for thirty tons of the moss known as reindeer moss, or Iceland moss (rangifereria), was arranged. The moss was to be gathered and stored on the highlands to await transport by the deer themselves, on the pulkas, or native sledges. The contract with the Laplander agent ran as follows: — “Tsrael N. Mella acknowledges hereby having sold to Mr. Francis H. Wood, of London, 250 female reindeer, three years old, sound, fresh, prime deer, for a sum of 30 Kr. each delivered on board the ship in Bugten, Altenfjord ; also 25 tame four-year-old drawing deer for the sum of 1 On board the steamer ready for sea, they cost $16.74 per head; landed in Labrador, they cost $51.49 per head. REINDEER FOR LABRADOR 26) Kr. 40 each; also 25 three-year-old buck deer (oxen), price 35 Kr. each, all the deer prime, all the deer delivered on the ship at Bugten between November 25th and 30th, 1907. Also 500 loads of reindeer moss, at 150 kilograms per load, at the sum of 12 Kr. per load, delivered on board the ship at Bugten between November 25th and 30th, 1907. Also eight good trained reindeer dogs, 25 Kr. each. I undertake to procure four Lapp families for the expedition on the lowest terms possible; for the work of yarding, taking care of the deer; also food for the deer until the ship comes, between November 25th and 30th, there shall be paid me (Mr. Mella) Kr. 500. In the Kr. 500 is included the engaging of the families. I acknowledge by this having received for 500 loads of reindeer moss, Kr. 6,000; also half the purchase price of the reindeer, Kr. 4,688; also there shall be paid to me (Mr. Mella) the advances made to the families, and the remaining half-price of the purchase money of the reindeer in Bugten on the delivery of the reindeer and the moss on the ship. “ (Signed) IsrannL N. MELA. “ Witness: Dina AUNE. July 29th, 1907.” Unfortunately the winter was very late, and it was im- possible to haul until after Christmas, — a fact which made tonnage for sea transport much harder to secure and much more expensive. Indeed, it was only with extreme difh- culty a steamer was secured at all to carry the deer so late in the year. She had to be fitted with stalls to prevent the deer being thrown about and damaged in rough weather. A contract was entered upon to carry the herd of three hundred animals from Lapland to Labrador for $8262. A bonus of fifty cents per head was to be paid the captain for every animal that was landed in good condition. 262 2 A RA OFF Following is the essential matter of the charter contract. Lonpon, 6th July, 1907. | - It is hereby agreed between the Owners of the good steamer “Anita,” and Francis H. Wood, 181 Queen Victoria St., London, Charterers, that the said Owners will, between 25th November and 30th November, place at the disposal of the said Charterers at a portun NORTH NORWAY in charterers’ option, to be declared in good time before steamer’s readiness, the above-mentioned steamer for the conveyance of three hun- dred head of reindeer and fodder, which the steamer shall be fitted to carry under experienced Captain's supervision to the satisfaction of Charterers’ reasonable requirements to prevent mortality. ; | The Reindeer are to be supplied to the steamer as quickly as they can be received by the steamer. As soon as the reindeer fodder and cattlemen are on-board: ihe steamer is to proceed to ST. ANTHONY, Cape Bauld, New- foundland, to land the reindeer ; afterwards proceeding to Lewrs port to land 50 deer. 3 | It is understood that the Harbour accommodation at both ST. ANTHONY and Lewis port is good and easy of access. For the carrying of the reindeer the steamer is to receive a lump sum freight of £1700 (seventeen hundred pounds) sterling. Four hea (Laplanders) are to be provided by the charterers. Owners are to provide sufficient additional cattle- men to assist in looking after the reindeer on the way out. The steamer is to be fitted under experienced Captain’s super- vision to the satisfaction of charterers’ agents’ reasonable requirements to prevent mortality, for the conveyance of the reindeer by Owners at their expense and in their time. IQSUIWNS Ul POH SUL REINDEER FOR LABRADOR 263 £13800 of the freight to be paid in cash in London on completion of loading in Norway; balance of freight to be paid in cash in London on recevpt of cable advices that the reindeer have been landed. Charierers are to -provide sufficient food for the reindeer. The steamer 1s to supply the requisite fresh water for the reindeer in accordance with charterers’ reasonable require- ments; also food and sleeping accommodation for the cattle- attendants. Should ST. ANTHONY or Lewis port be inaccessible by reason of ice on steamer’s arrival, the whole of the cargo is to be landed at whichever port is free of ice. If both ports are wnaccessible on account of ice, the steamer shall proceed to the nearest safe open port, where the cargo is to be landed and freight to be paid as vf the steamer had eae the voyage as above. Owners not to be responsible for mortality. The steamer to have liberty to call at any ports in any order, to sail without pilots, and to tow and assist vessels in distress, and to deviate for the purpose of saving life or property. It 1s agreed by charterers that the ports of loading and dis- charge shall be such as steamer can reach, always being afloat, the animals being brought to, and taken from, alongside by charterers, steamer to go alongside any accessible and safe wharf, dock or craft as ordered by charterers. Owners to give charterers fourteen days’ notice of steamer’s readiness, also ample notice when and where steamer will be fitted out. 7 It was further necessary to insure the deer against accident, and the contract was made as follows: owners to pay in- 264 LABRADOR surers $38.88 per cent less rebate of $13.50 per cent if no claim was made. No claim did arise. The herd set sail on December 30, and, after a very rough voyage of twenty-one days, sighted ice off the Labrador coast. She eventually anchored in a bay on the North Newfoundland coast, about eight miles from the harbour that we had chosen as a wintering place for the deer. During the night a heavy onshore wind drove the ice into this bay, and pushed thesteamer from her anchors and on the rocks, — a position from which she was only subsequently rescued after considerable damage. The deer were mean- while landed on the broken slob-ice with the result that they scattered in every direction, some even disappearing over the horizon seaward and many falling into the water between the large pans of ice. The Lapp herders at once led ashore some of the more sedate beasts with bells around their necks, and tethered them at varying distances along the coast, as lures to the others. This ruse proved most successful, and by an accurate count made at a round-up three weeks later, every one of the three hundred was found | in the herd. Lieutenant W. G. Lindsay of Cork, Ireland, who had had some experience in Mexico ranching, has been in charge of this experiment from that time. The deer at once took kindly to their new environment, being allowed to run wild all day, though brought in near camp every night. Each day two herders, with dogs, fol- lowed the wandering herd and brought them nearly to the same place in the evening. The deer never wandered far; on two or three occasions a single individual was missing and got perhaps as far as twenty miles away, but straying never presented any serious trouble. More serious at first REINDEER FOR LABRADOR 265 were two successive glitters, or sharp thaws followed by frost, which covered the snow with a hard ice coat and made it difficult for the deer to dig down to their food. In spite, however, of all difficulties and the long voyage, they steadily gained in weight, and so far as we can tell, not one of the pregnant does lost her fawn. On the following pages is the expense account of the enterprise : — 266 Lae LABRADOR FRANCIS H. WOOD IN ACCOUNT Dr, To Cash per Mr. Peters : e ° cue ys «/ LARS or «i Me Reed, of Boston |, oa te Weal a Seas Brodribb : 4 5 20 0.0 ‘« Sundry Contributions per “Toilers of the Deep eo: : 3 iL 6 ‘* Interest on Deposit ? 3 Orr 9 ‘““ Cash Anglo-Newfoundland Development Company, sale _ of 50 deer . : 2 513° 19 2 “Cash Anglo-Newfoundland Mevclopaicnt Gomes sale of 4dogs . Z 510 0 “ Cash Anglo-Newfoundland Development Company, re- payment advance of wages to Lapp Families . 5 32 in 6 “ Rebate on Insurance (see contra) . : 5 . 76 19 O [ney 2 uo] & IOV] we CA Met o ee REINDEER FOR LABRADOR 267 WITH REINDEER FUND PURCHASE ACCOUNT cr, By Cost of 300 Reindeer, as per contract with Israel Mella. 3 5 .- Kr. » 93375 ““ Cost of moss, as per con- tract: . Kr. 6,000 Cost of 8 Tapp dogs for herding deer, as per contract : : Kr. 200 Allowance for providing yard at Bugten and herding deer between November 25th and 30th, as per contract. Kr. 500 Payment to Agent for as- sistance in making con- tract and superintend- ing shipment, etc. . Kr. 1,800 Kr. 17,875 = £982 2 10 “ F. H. Wood’s travelling expenses to Norway to purchase deer, etc. : 50 0 O= £1032 210= SHIPMENT AND EMBARKATION re EXPENSES ae By cost of feeding deer from November _ 30th to December 12th while wait- ing for ship, extra for fittings, and sundry expenses connected with em- barkation, telegrams, and postages . 206 11 1 “ Payment to owners of Anita for freight : 1,700 O O “Present of 2/- a Thead to Captain for each deer landed alive . . 30 0 O ““ Cost of insuring deer against all risks at £8 per cent less rebate of 54/- per cent if no claim arose (see contra) 206 16 6= £2143 77= DISBURSEMENTS ON ACCOUNT OF an 5 per MAINTENANCE a By Advances made to 4 Lapland Families on account of wages 2 Semel: ** Stores and provisions for re-sale to Lapps, including Port Dues (£3 Is. 2d.) in London ‘ : PAB) leh ““ Balance in hand for aie ingemenne ex- penses forwarded to Newfoundland . 260 9 11 Grand total . £3,544 18 5 = $51.49, total See SS per head landed St. Anthony 268 LABRADOR Our attempt to use the stags for rapid transit has not been altogether successful. At hauling logs and other weights on the boat-like ‘‘ pulkas,” or on our more adaptable ‘catamarans,’ at a walking pace they succeeded admirably, each deer pulling as much as four or five dogs. But when pace was the criterion of success they failed at the first. For though they could go like the wind when they wished, they did not often go fast when we wished, and we had to be contented with the Lapps’ assurance that they only needed experience. In this respect the deer have certainly improved this second winter very considerably; but still we have not been able to consider them as rivals in speed to our dogs. Their timid natures seemed to make them flurried when an excess of speed is demanded on a down grade, and their habit of suddenly stopping ceased to be amusing, when it would cause you, with your loaded sled, to roll over and over with your team to the bottom of a steep incline. I am assured, however, that this is only a difficulty to be overcome, and my Alaskan informant, who for many years has driven a mail train with reindeer, assures me that it takes a reindeer stag three seasons’ work really to find himself. If, however, for any reason we are unable to entirely replace our dogs with deer for rapid transit, we shall proceed as we have locally, by killing off all the worst dogs and enforcing the existing laws, which compel all dogs roaming at large to wear a heavy clog or carry one paw through a ring round the neck. I have repeatedly driven my own dog-team through the herd this winter without trouble. On several occasions when we have tethered our beasts at night they have either pulled adrift, or chewed through REINDEER FOR LABRADOR 269 the skin line that held them, and so escaped. But as a rule they have at once found the herd and returned to it, even though it may have been feeding many miles away at the time. At other times, certain deer have shown a pro- pensity to select certain particular spots for grazing, and have repeatedly left the main herd and returned to the eround of their own selection. The main herd, as a rule, get up and feed from daylight to about 11 a.m., then lie down and rest until about 4 P.m., about which hour a stag would get up and walk round restlessly. If he came too near another, the latter would strike viciously at him with his head, as if deploring the fact that the time had arrived for renewed activity. He would, however, soon arise as if under protest, and join the moving group till all the herd was afoot. Then, without apparently any reason, it would seem to occur to a stag that to migrate ten miles northwest or southeast would be advantageous, and off he would go at a staid walk, the whole herd falling in and following him like a funeral procession. The time for fawning came with May, and Mr. Lindsay took the deer to highlands as free as possible of the then treacherous brooks and lakes, which were opening beneath the spring sun. Our herd was now reduced to two hundred does and fifty stags, for we had sent south the fifty deer sold to a large lumber concern, three hundred miles to the south. These latter had all reached their destination safely after their long march, only one stag dying after arrival. They were to be used for carrying supplies over snow to far-off logging camps. As far as we could count, the does threw one hundred and sixty-eight fawns, and of these only eight were born dead or 270 LABRADOR perished in the brooks and thickets. We also lost two deer by dogs during the year, and found one doe shot with buckshot, so that exactly one year after arrival, our two hundred and fifty numbered four hundred and five. On one occasion at least a fawn born in April gave birth to a fawn the following year. All summer long the deer had chosen the high green- covered hills close to the sea, greatly enjoying and rapidly fattening on the salty food. They ate mostly the young grass and new green leaves, apparently making little dis- crimination, except that as they did not seem to use the moss on which they must rely in winter, one might have suggested (probably untruthfully) that they were spe- cially saving that for consumption when nothing else would be available. The magnificent antlers on the older stags proved a danger to others, and after one had been killed by a bad wound in the side, we dehorned the rest, with the excep- tion of their brow antlers, which we considered sufficient to enable the deer to keep up their courage and spirit of play. After the fawns had run six full weeks with their mothers, that is, by the beginning of August, the herd was driven by the dogs every day into a large corral built for the purpose, and xity does were milked each time. While suckling their fawns, we could not expect to get very much milk at best from each. They gave us, however, a pint of a very rich, creamy milk per head. This tasted more like cow’s milk than anything I know of, and had none of the flavour familiar to that of the goat. I have unfortunately no analysis of its component parts with me, but would judge it would take at least one-quarter part of water to reduce it to the standard of cow’s milk. This be- — ing an experimental year, beyond now and again sending a supply round to our nearest hospital and to neighbours, we made no attempt at a systematic distribution of it. S80q OWTYSA poiq-sfouM ; REINDEER FOR LABRADOR 271 The milk was, however, readily made by our Lapp herders into a very delectable and easily digestible cream cheese. A report direct from the herd, dated March, 1909, states that the herd is in splendid condition: the stags fat and sleek, the does all well, and no losses. Even those returned in bad condition by schooner (from the lumber camp mentioned) have picked up during a hard winter, and appear to promise well for fawning in the spring. By 1913 the deer numbered 1500.- They had justified all our expectations. An epidemic of pneumonia, how- ever, killed altogether about 100 deer this summer. “We had. ake considerable trouble with poachers. We applied, as a consequence, to the Neteomdlianc| Government for a reserve in which no deer hunting might take place. But they only saw fit to rule that no reindeer should be killed north of the line we had hoped to fence. Poaching became much worse, and one winter 250 were killed just across the imaginary line. In 1916 the Cana- dian Government undertook to take over the herd to Canadian Labrador and pay the expenses of herding. - In 1918 we took over 130 — 10 were killed — and 40 which we saw but could not catch were poached before we returned. These deer were placed at Bay de Rochers where under Captain Living of the Indian Department they are again multiplying. With Mr. Hyclinar Steffan- son I went to Ottawa to secure more interest in the deer in 1920, and in 1921 our agent Mr. Wood purchased 700 deer for Mr. Steffanson and the Hudson Bay Com- _ pany for Baffinsland, the Hudson Bay Company having secured exclusive rights of pasturage for that island. ‘In 1921 an American Company also was formed with Governor Riggs of Alaska and Mr. Davidson, editor of the ‘‘Field”’ on its board. ‘They have secured rights of pasture for East Labrador. Faith in the success ulti- mately of the enterprise is now widespread. CHAPTER X THE DOGS By W. T. GRENFELL Human life in Labrador has been so largely dependent on dogs that a brief chapter devoted to them is almost essential. The real Labrador dog is a very slightly modified wolf. A good specimen stands two feet six inches, or even two feet eight inches high at the shoulder, measures over six feet six inches from the tip of the nose to the tip of the tail, and will scale a hundred pounds. The hair is thick and straight; on the neck it may be six inches in length. The ears are pointed and stand directly up. The appearance generally is that of a magnified Pomeranian. The legs look short, compared with the massive body. The eyes are Japanese, and give the animal a foxy look about the face. The large, bushy tail curves completely over on to the back, and is always carried erect. The colour is generally tawny, like that of a gray wolf, with no distinctive markings, but a beautiful black and white breed has grown up, and fur- nishes the handsomest dogs. The general resemblance to wolves is so great that at Davis Inlet, where wolves come out frequently in winter, the factor has seen his team mixed with a pack of wolves on the beach in front of the door, and yet could not shoot, being unable to distinguish one from 272 THE DOGS 273 the other. Settlers have succeeded in getting good skins by pegging out a female dog in heat, and shooting the wolves that come down after her. The wolves themselves are larger than the dogs. They may measure in length as much as seven feet eight inches, from nose to tail. They are very bold; on one occasion wolves lurked around a solitary house in Big Bay till they had carried off the four dogs, one by one, and left only after capturing the cat. The dogs retain these same ancestral habits. Some summer settlers at Batteau have goats at their small shacks. About ten miles away at Red Point lived a hungry team of dogs. One night a goat was missing. The crime was traced to the dogs. Men with guns waited their return, with no result except much loss of time. The dogs never came near the settlement by day. Yet, before the people left, the dogs had successfully carried off every goat without suffering any losses. On another occasion my own leading dog, a black bitch from Cape Chidley, ran away from the hospital in early spring. She was seen near a neighbouring village, killing sheep. Three had been slaughtered by her on land, and she had driven two more out on to a rocky island, where she swam off and slewthem. Witha long shot the sheep-owner wounded her, and she fled into the woods, but still did not return home. He hauled the carcass near the edge of the woods, and sat up for her. True to her wolfish instinct, she returned to her quarry by night, and so met her fate. Our dogs know little or no fear, and, unlike the wolves, will unhesitatingly attack even the largest polar bear. On one occasion a man’s dogs, travelling along smooth sea ice, scented a white bear and started off like the wind. T 274 LABRADOR They suddenly turned a point and ran right into him, so that the traces tangled round the bear before the astonished driver had time to unlash his gun. As soon as he could, he cut the traces, but even in harness the dogs kept Bruin at bay. Though the bear stood up to fight on his hind legs, the dogs managed to get in some good bites without being hurt. On another occasion a man brought me a specially valued dog that a bear had squeezed. The bear had been sighted some distance off on the ice-floe, and the dogs were slipped to hold him up for the hunter. By the time he arrived on the spot, they had the bear practically killed. But two had been damaged by him, one clawed and one squeezed. The Labrador wolf has never been known to kill a man. Yet on several occasions single men have fallen in with them.. One man told me that a pack followed him almost to his own door, that they stopped when he stopped, and came: as close as ten yards. He had no gun and no means of defence, yet they never touched him. The Labrador dog has much the same respect for man. He is, moreover, affectionate and playful. You can easily make a pet of. him, if you treat him well. He is generally harmless to children when he is decently looked after, but a. team of dogs together, however quiet, are never safe to strangers. Even a single dog, if kicked about; badly fed, and left to be worried by the neighbouring dogs every es of his ~ cannot be trusted. The wolf will track a deer day after day til he opines it. Again and again our trappers have seen evidence-of the indefatigable. zeal and indomitable resolution’ of a-single wolf. in following a caribou herd; ‘and. observers all agree THE DOGS 215 that each time the track spells the shadow of death. A settler told me the story of a doe caribou which, in the early summer of 1906, he saw brought to bay on the middle of a pond by a single wolf. The ice had thawed out, and it was necessary for the wolf to swim off to get at the deer. The wolf, after long hesitation in taking to the water, which it apparently hates, swam off, fought the caribou, and though repeatedly knocked down by her fore hoofs, at last pulled her down. Our dogs, taking the scent of a caribou trail, even when in harness, will forget all discipline, and they will almost tear a komatik and driver to pieces in their eagerness to give chase. I have known of a team that thus ran away, and some of them never came back. In all probability they had been killed, for an Eskimo dog never loses his way. The dogs very seldom perish for want of food, and then only under circumstances of an extraordinary nature, such as being adrift on the floe-ice. The Eskimo dog takes kindly to the water in summer. He will go in fearlessly after fish. When the caplin run ashore, the dogs, half starved after the winter (like most of the other animals), almost live in the water, eating their fill till they are like ambulatory barrels. I have watched them patiently hunt- ing flatfish in shallow water. They dive their heads under water when they feel the fish wriggle under their feet. Twice I have had half-breed dogs who would dive to the bottom in two to two and a half fathoms of water, and bring up stones wrapped in white paper. This accomplishment served me well on one occasion. From the edge of the shore ice I had shot a seal swimming in the open water. alongside. My leading dog, which I unharnessed, dived 276 LABRADOR to the bottom, and brought the seal to the surface by the flipper. | I am inclined to think the half-breed dogs are the clever- est also in memorizing. In 1907 I was driving a distance of seventy miles across country. The path was untravelled for the winter, and was only a direction, not being cut and blazed. The leading dog had been once across the previous year with the doctor. The “going” had then been very bad; with snow and fog, the journey had taken three days. A large part of the journey lay across wide lakes, and then through woods. As neither I nor my friends on the other komatiks had been that way before, we had to leave it to the dog. He went so quickly and so confidently that it grew almost weird to sit behind him. Several times I called a halt to examine the direction and leads. Without asingle fault, as far as we knew, he took us across, and we accom- plished the whole journey in twelve hours, including one and a half hours for rest and lunch. No amount of dry cold seems to affect the dogs. They sleep out on the coldest nights, frequently choosing the most exposed places, and apparently disdaining any shelter. I have almost had to dig them out from new snow in the mornings. They will stay in the water any length of time in summer when the water is from 40 to 43° F. I have seen a dog mistake the buoy on a net for a stick thrown by his master. Heswam out, seized it, and tried to pull it ashore. We went in and had tea, and when we came out again, the dog was still pulling at the buoy. Yet, in winter, the dogs dread the water, and it is very difficult to drive them through it. They seem also to have an instinct telling them when ice cannot be depended on, and it is rare that they fall through, unless being urged on by a driver. wee] oy} jo Avjsurepy ouL THE DOGS Dita In training a leader, a female is generally chosen as less likely to be damaged by the others fighting with her, — an accident which, at certain times, would cost a man his life. The ideal team is a clever mother followed by a dozen of her own pups. Mixed teams, however powerful, are never so good. The dogs soon learn to turn at the word of command. The whole team will sometimes learn to “turn”’ without waiting for the leader; but that is rare. The dogs get to know their own places in a team, and, if allowed to run loose for any cause, such as an accident or sickness, will nearly always come and run in their places. I have had so much trouble with a dog doing that and getting repeat- edly run over for his pains, that I have had to lash him on the komatik to save his life. There can be no question that the dogs love to be driven. They go perfectly wild with excitement when they are in harness. The komatik must be lashed to a stump or stone, and the line cut only when the driver is ready to go. The team then shoots off like an arrow from a bow. They are, of course, flesh eaters, and, by nature, purely carnivorous, only touching meal and farinaceous foods when compelled by dire hunger. During my years in Labrador they have killed two children and one man, and eaten another. In the case of the second man the evidence went to show that he was not killed by the dogs, though his dead body was devoured bythem. In that case (winter of 1906), a man, his wife, and son got lost. Their bodies were found only when the snow melted away during the following summer. Of the owner of the dogs only the bones were discovered. As the dogs returned in good condition after a fortnight’s absence, all of them were shot. The other 278 LABRADOR man killed (also in 1906) was driving home, and had badly fed, savage dogs. He was apparently beating them, when they fell on him and nearly tore him to pieces. Each of the two children fell down in the midst of a pack that had begun fighting. The dogs will kill almost any kind of domestic animal quite naturally. I was passing a house one day into which an elderly lady was driving a goat. I heard a shout and noticed my leading dog was calmly proceeding on the way, dragging the unfortunate goat in his mouth by the hind leg. Our traces, harness, and all fastenings are made of sealskin, and these the dogs love to eat, but most will readily learn not to do so. I have had dogs which would not eat their skin shoes that we put on them to save their feet against the cutting of the ice crust. At the same time my sealskin whip has often been eaten, a deed which one scarcely knew whether to attribute to bad taste or to great sagacity. There is nothing an Eskimo dog likes more than a fight. The moment the noise of a fight breaks the silence, every dog in hearing will fly off at full speed to the spot and “chip in.” Members of one team will, as a rule, stick together ; a whole team will saunter out, and try to lure passers-by intoamélée. As arule, however, all dogs will bite the first to fall, and if-one has the misfortune to be thrown on his back, it is nearly certain his fate is sealed. It is marvellous how soon they can kill the enemy. I have known it done in two minutes, a great fang finding a billet in the carotid artery. I had purchased a fine dog for a leader one year, and on the first trip left him tied with the team in harness while I went to pay a visit. He was dead and partly eaten when I returned. THE DOGS 279 The natives always use great whips with a lash as long as thirty feet. With that the driver can strike any dog he wishes, even at full gallop. The length of the handle is immaterial. Indeed, I have known an Eskimo kill many partridges (or spruce grouse) by flicking them with a whip which had no handle at all. Any good hand with a whip will drive nails into a post with it, and will cut a hole almost through a door-panel. _ For endurance, few animals can equal our dogs. As I have said before, cold seems absolutely immaterial. At 50° F. below zero, a dog will lie out on the ice and sieep without danger of frost-bite. He may climb out of the sea with ice forming all over his fur, but he seems not to mind one iota. I have seen his breath freeze so over his face that he had to rub the coating off his eyes with his paws to enable him to see the track. I have driven him from daylight to dark on bright spring days when a couple of hours of such exposure would blind the unprotected eyes of most men. I have never yet known a dog’s eyes to suffer at all. No dog is fed more than once a day, and one might almost say no dog is ever given all he wants to eat. Yet a team will, when unavoidable, go two and three days without food on a journey, and yet show scarcely a sign of fatigue. To feed its puppies, a dog will vomit the food it has eaten itself. For speed and endurance it is difficult to surpass these wonderful animals. An old friend, a Hudson’s Bay factor at Moose Factory, in a letter describing a journey he re- cently made with ten dogs, and nearly a thousand pounds’ weight on the komatik, says: ‘“ We covered the one hundred and eighty miles of distance in two and a half days, and the 280 LABRADOR dogs showed no signs of slacking when we drew up.”” With a half-breed team of only seven dogs, I have myself travelled seventy miles a day over a hilly country, but there were only two hundred and fifty pounds on the komatik. On this journey there was time allowed for midday rest for lunch and the boiling of the kettle. The Eskimo dog never barks. But he howls exactly like a wolf, in sitting posture with the head upturned. One dog will start every dog in ear-shot. This keeps a traveller awake, and so the people have invented many charms, one of which consists in seizing the band of your shirt in your teeth and chewing it till the noise stops. During twenty years we have known of no cases of hy- datid cysts due to the dangerous form of tapeworm such as is transmitted by dogs in Greenland. Indeed, even dis- temper and mange are very rare among Eskimo dogs. Though every family keeps half a dozen at least, not a single case of hydrophobia has been known. The great beauty of a dog-team is that it seems to banish all conventionalities. You can go anywhere and every- where with no roads, no hedges, no walls, no restrictions but your own will; and that will, without rein or bridle, you make your dog’s will. Dogs can carry you up almost the steepest snow slope and down again in safety. They do not slip or sink in, and if they fall over even a high cliff in the winter, they are very rarely hurt. They seem to understand what you say, and so form a far better com- panion than a horse. They are automobiles which need no handling of their machinery. They enjoy travelling almost more than their masters enjoy it. They learn to love you as only a dog will, and if it were not for their occasional out- THE DOGS 281 breaks of wickedness, they would make the best of com- panions. As it is, I know of no greater pleasure possible than a large, strong team, a good leader, a brisk, bright spring day, and a really long journey to go. CHAPTER XI THE COD AND. COD-FISHERY By W. T. GRENFELL LABRADOR Is as yet a land of specialized industries. The endless problem of food and clothing has made the native Eskimo a hunter of seals; the native Indian has preferred the deer; the incoming whites, while importing their flour and woven cloths, have found their good genius in the cod. Nearly three hundred years ago it was known that this fish was plentiful on the southern coast of the penin- sula, and ever since the cod-fishery has been more or less vigorously pursued on the Labrador. In former times the herring, and always the salmon, has furnished minor parts in the harvest from the coastal waters, but it is remarkable that, in Newfoundland and Labrador, “fish” is a synonym merely for cod; a local law has stated that salmon is not fish. Other members of the Gadide family, as the hake, _ tusk, haddock, whiting, coalfish, pollack, ling, and whiting- pout, are absent or present in negligible quantities. A flounder is the only noteworthy representative of the flat- fish family. The halibut is found only in deep water, far from shore. For many reasons the humble cod has a just claim to preéminence among the food-fishes. As food for man, cod 282 ee THE COD AND COD—FISHERY 283 is the bread of the sea. He may be called the bread and butter, for more surely than any other marine species does he supply a food of which the white man’s palate does not tire. His flesh is rich and gelatinous, without being fatty. Every particle of his body is useful to man. The skin and bones make excellent glue. The tongue and swim-bladder are rare delicacies when well cooked, and have also been used as raw material in the manufacture of isinglass. The refined cod-liver oil is among the most sterling remedies yet devised for man’s bodily weakness, which so often leads to deadly phthisis.1_ The refuse oil may be employed for tanning purposes; the offal is very valuable manure. In Norway and Iceland, the dried heads have been largely used as food for cattle. The roe is an excellent bait, and forms a notable part of the Norwegian annual export. On Arctic shores the well-dried bones, for lack of other material, have been used for fuel. For curing purposes, the cod is unsurpassed. Belonging to the Anacanthini, or spineless fish, he can be rapidly deprived of bone and entrails without danger to the fisherman’s hands. A fresh codfish weighing 6.6 pounds contains as much as 5.4 pounds of water. When well cured, it will weigh 2.2 pounds, of which 16.5 ounces is nutritive matter, 4.5 ounces is salt, and 12.5 ounces is water. Compared with fresh beef, the nutritive value of the dried cod is as 9 to 10, and the cost is less than one-half that of beef at average prices. It is said that a Newfoundland fish contains more nutriment 1 Four hundred Lofoten cod give a barrel of oil, but it takes twice as many to give a barrel of the refined, medicinal oil. The product rotted out is called cod oil; that for drinking, cod-liver oil. About thirty-six hundred livers of Labrador cod go to the barrel of twenty- five gallons. 284 LABRADOR than an equally heavy fish from the French banks. In Europe, fresh cod is regarded as best for table use when caught in the coldest months, December to February. The relatively high nutritive value of the Newfoundland- Labrador fish is probably to be explained in large part by the fact that all the year round the sea temperatures are at least as low as those which bring the European cod into best condition. The fish can be preserved in wet bulk all winter by putting enough salt between adjacent layers to prevent them from touching one another. It may also be preserved as dry bulk in piles covered over and well pressed down. But the fish may be cured by no other means whatever than by splitting open the carcass and hanging it up in the sun to dry. Many of the ancient, foreign names for the animal have apparently been derived from the fact that from times immemorial the flesh of the drying split fish has been made tenderer by beating the carcass with clubs. The Norwegians call the animal the “stock” (stick) fish; in Spanish it is “‘baccalhao”’ (from Lat. baculum, a staff, rod, or small stick); in Italian, “mazza”’ (a club); in Gaelic, ‘““oad”’ (rod). The Greeks called the fish ‘‘bacchi” (rods). In English the name “stock-fish’”’ covers the haddock, ling, and hake, as well as the cod. The Labrador Eskimo always preserve cod by hard drying without salt. The white man, of course, has devised his own methods of curing the cod by smoking it like the salmon, or of turning it as steaks or in boneless rolls, ready for immediate use, but the commonest method is still that by dry salting, as 1t has been for so many centuries. Since these many virtues as a food- fish must be multiplied by the inconceivable numbers of ieee LE ELE ENE Re as = On the March Waiting for Their Master THE COD AND COD-—FISHERY 285 imdividuals, the title ‘King of the food-fishes”’ is justified, even against the herring. Hach female lays from three to nine million eggseach year, generally in the months from February to May, inclusive. The fish spawns rapidly. As the females are “ripening,”’ the roe or ovaries are so large that they fill the mother’s body and actually tend to prevent her feeding. So far as it goes, this is a fortunate protection for the species, since, during this important period in her life, the female is thereby less hable to be caught on a bait. The males seem to out- number the females considerably, but the balance is main- tained for reproduction by the fact that the roe of the aver- age female is two or three times as heavy as the milt of the average male. Though the eggs contain no oil globule, they float in the water. The milt also floats, and as its units are present in inestimable quantities, the fertilization of the eggs, which takes place in the open water, is insured. It is made yet more certain by the fact that during the spawning season the cod aggregate into immense shoals in shallow water. This free floating is a great protection to the eggs, as they cannot be browsed up in bulk off the bottom, like the spawn of herring, which adheres in masses to the rocks and gravels. The young cod grows rapidly, and in twelve months is about sixteen inches long, and in twenty-four months is a mature fish about twenty-four inches long. As a rule, however, it will not breed until it is three years old. Its youth is largely spent in eating its own brothers and sisters and cousins, and also in escaping being eaten. The career of any indi- vidual is apt to be a checkered one, and it is only one out of many that succeeds ‘‘in realizing any aspirations he may 286 LABRADOR have to a humble corner on a fishmonger’s slab.’’ During his life he seems singularly free from diseases, but blindness and rickets (unaccompanied by fever) have been found not infrequently. The blindness may be due to mechanical injuries or to exposure to too much light during the long days of the north. Rickety fish often have humped backs. The largest codfish of which I have record on this coast. scaled one hundred and two pounds, and was five feet six inches long. The record on the English coast is seventy- eight pounds, with length of five feet eight inches; this fish was caught in 1755,and was sold for the sum of one shilling. The largest recorded cod on the Newfoundland Banks was caught by Captain Stephen May in 1838; the weight, after the fish was gutted, was one hundred and thirty-six pounds ! Another cod holds the record on the American coast; he was caught by Captain Atwood, who found him to scale one hundred and sixty pounds. In the Gulf of St. Lawrence and on the east coast of Labrador, the fish are of smaller average size than on the banks off Newfoundland and the United States. The fish from the far north, near Cape Chidley, are both shorter and thinner than those taken at the Strait of Belle Isle. The average Labrador cod taken in the trap-net is about twenty inches long, and weighs between three and four pounds. Those caught on hook and line in the autumn are much larger and heavier. The monster cod once caught off Rockall and the Hebrides in the early days of those fisheries have disappeared. Pre- sumably they held a kind of monopoly of all food that came along, and thus assumed the first chances in swallowing baited hooks. It may be noted that the cod is never large — enough to be completely free from the danger of being eaten THE COD AND COD-FISHERY 23g alive, for seals are quite indifferent on that point. The cod must rarely die of old age. The actual company enjoyed by these gregarious crea- tures may be observed any season on the Labrador, when the great schools of cod are feeding on the living caplin, as the latter, themselves in countless hosts, run inshore to feed. The water is then often literally black with cod, and so eager are they after their food that the air over the school is alive with fish jumping after their prey. Additional ex- citement in the water is furnished by the dogfish, sharks, seals, or herring-hogs, which follow the cod from interested motives. Cartwright, in 1776, gives the following descrip- tion of such a school : “Observing many codfish to come close inshore, where the water was deep, I laid myself flat on the rock, took a caplin by the tail, and held it in the water in expectation that a cod would take it out of my fingers. Nor was I disappointed, for almost immediately a fish struck at it and seized it. And no sooner had one snatched away the caplin than another sprang out of the water, and actually caught a slight hold of my finger and thumb. Had I dipped my hand in the water, I am con- vinced they would soon have made me repent of my folly, for they are a very greedy, bold fish.” A similar sight was presented at one point on the coast last year (1908), good sizable fish jumping out of the water after bait and landing on the rocks, so that they were actually taken without any trouble beyond that of picking them up. Fortunately for themselves and for the world, they are gifted with the most extraordinary digestive powers; they certainly do their honest best to convert everything that comes into their way into that which will ultimately benefit 288 LABRADOR mankind. I have myself taken three small cod and twenty- seven caplin from the stomach of one postprandial fish and have seen an excellent gold ring taken from the stomach of another. A book in three volumes was taken from the stomach of a codfish off Lynn, England, and presented to the vice-chancellor of Cambridge University. Scissors, oil-cans, old boots, testify to the catholicity of the cod’s appetite. Captain Hill, who lost his keys over the side in the North Sea, had them returned to him from the inside of a codfish. Two full-grown ducks have been found in a cod’s stomach; the birds were quite fresh, and had appar- ently been swallowed alive. An entire partridge, a whole hare, six (small) dogfish, an entire turnip, a guillemot (beak, claws, and all), a tallow candle, have all betrayed the omnivorous leanings of some of our friends. But per- haps their devotion to business is best shown by the number of stones taken from their interiors and merely swallowed for the sake of the corallines which had grown on the stones. Lobsters, crabs, whelk shells, and the like, swallowed aw naturelle do not seem to require any special digestive pre- cautions. A Newfoundland fisherman had the melancholy duty of forwarding a wedding-ring found in a cod’s stomach to the family of a lady who was lost off the Newfoundland coast in the steamship Anglo-Saxon. The question whether there is any diminution in the supply of the cod on the Labrador is an interesting and important one. If it be granted that there is such diminu- tion, it is still an open question whether man has been re- sponsible for the change. All the millions of fish taken annually out of these waters must represent but an ex- tremely minute fraction of the total “run” along the The Sea of Ice Newfoundland Schooners working North THE COD AND COD-—FISHERY 289 thousand miles of coast. It is conceivable that the codfish host is so evenly balanced against the host of its natural sea-water enemies that even the small human inroad on the numbers, especially on the numbers of females, may in time produce a sensible thinning out of the shoals. But we have as yet no good proof that this is the case. The fish are protected from man by the long winter months; from November to June, or even July, they are safe from that enemy at least, for the ice shuts man out from the sea. Those places where the largest catches were made years ago are still usually the best berths, e.g. Griffin’s Harbour. That fact seems significant, for, in some measure like the salmon, the cod is a local fish and tends to return, year after year, to the section of the coast where he was born. It follows, therefore, that, if man were causing a diminution in the numbers of the cod, the best berths of former times would be less likely to be the best berths now. Though the herring and mackerel have largely disappeared from the Labrador coast during the last half century, they have certainly not been exterminated by fishermen. The quantities taken of these two fish have been far too small to effect that result. The ancient fishery off Yarmouth, England, has taken ten thousand times more herring than have ever been captured on the Labrador, yet the annual taking off the English coast is still remarkable. However, the majority of Labrador fishermen think that the cod are diminishing in numbers along the whole coast. They refer to the partial or complete abandonment of the northern summer stations at Windsor Harbour, Fanny’s Harbour, Aillik, Long Tickle, ete., where the industry once flourished. Other arguments run to the effect that the U 290 LABRADOR Jersey and American firms who, years ago, conducted large operations on the coast, had to give them up, owing to the scarcity of fish; that well-off families have fallen into pov- erty and want, and that many have left thecoast; that float- ing craft have to keep going farther and farther afield; that large bays, which attracted settlers on account of the local abundance of cod, are now deserted; that some places along the Labrador fail every year nowadays; that, not- withstanding the large mesh now compelled by government, the fish taken are now of smaller average size than formerly ; that the catch is not proportionate to the increased outfit ; and that the bank fisheries have been depleted both abso- lutely and relatively. The pessimists argue further that the cod-fishery runs risk of approaching the failures recorded for the lobster, salmon, seal, and even the trout, all of which have been signally depleted by man; the whales and whalers are steadily diminishing. Walrus has been banished from the Labrador. All along the Labrador there are bullies and fishing-boats, once in regular use, now lying up and rotting on the shore. That the government once leaned to this view was shown by the establishment of a codfish hatchery in Newfound- land, not for biological experiment, but for hatching young fish for restocking the bays. Subsequently, under Sir William Whiteway, the hatchery was closed down. Some fishermen thought the plan a success; others thought it a failure. In judging the case, the obvious precaution must be taken that too much reliance be not placed on the testimony of a few individual captains; as the number of men and amount of capital engaged in the industry increase, the THE COD AND COD—-FISHERY 291 chances of failure of cargo for the single schooner are in- creased. There are simply not enough “best berths” to go round when the list of schooners increases beyond a certain point. Quite independently of man’s interfer- ence, the harvests of the sea, like those on the land, may naturally swing in cycles. So long ago as 1775 there was a complete failure of the cod-fishery along the north side of Belle Isle Strait; yet this latest year (1908) the “crop” has been unusually good. It may well be that the inshore fishing is now in a period of relatively lean years, to be followed by a period of fat years, — the whole swing of the industrial pendulum being utterly uncontrolled by the relatively insignificant takings of the summer fleet on the Labrador. Neither science nor the practical industry has yet obtained sufficient knowledge of the sea to declare the whole law which governs the annual, much less the age-to-age, swelling or recession of the finny flood. In any event the cod seem to be as plentiful as ever in deep water. The use of long lines by banking vessels along the Labrador is growing steadily in importance. The failure of many a schooner to find cargo may be due to the fact that the trap-net is the only method of capture em- ployed. The deepest water in which I have seen traps set is eighteen fathoms. If for any reason the fish, though as plentiful as ever, do not come right home to the rocks, the captain outfitted with trap-net only might wrongly report on this question of a possible diminution in the numbers of the cod in Labrador seas. One important cause governing the nearness of the approach of the cod in any year to the actual coast-line is undoubtedly the temperature of the water. This may 292 LABRADOR affect the fish directly, or may control the distribution of the other animals on which he feeds, thus affecting the cod himself indirectly. The cod will not feed in water under 34° F. He prefers temperatures ranging between 35° F. and 42° F. On the cod-bearing Norwegian waters the hottest month is August, when the surface of the sea averages 43.5° F. (12.8°C.); ten fathoms down it averages 41.9° F. (11° C.), and twenty fathoms from the surface, 37° F. (5.6° C.). The coldest month is February, when the averages are: surface, 32° F. (0° C.); at ten fathoms, 33.8° F. (1.25° C.); at twenty fathoms, 36.5° F. (2.5°C.). From the few observations I have taken of the Labrador, the average surface temperature in summer varies from 40° to 45 °F. In the summer of 1900, Mr. R. A. Daly of the Brown-Harvard expedition made some serial readings of the temperatures in the coastal waters on days when abun- dant cod could be taken from the schooner on which the temperatures were determined. Two carefully cali- brated thermometers gave accordant results. A few ex- amples of the serial readings may be of interest as showing how very cold may be the water in which the cod appears to thrive. The tables also indicate the density of the water as collected in a “Mill” bottle at various depths. The rapid changes of temperature and of salinity in a few fathoms are noteworthy. First SERIES At anchor, three and one-half miles west of Cape Pomi- adluk, Labrador; 8 p.m., July 31. Air temperature, LSC Roe onan, THE COD AND COD-—FISHERY 293 TEMPERATURE, f SpEeciIFIC GRAVITY AT DertH IN FATHOMS MESS VIE, Cent. Fahr. Surface 7.0° 44.6° 1.01965 1 5.7 ADI 1.02045 Y 5.5 41.9 1.02060 3 5.3 41.5 1.02065 4 2.1 35.9 1.02220 5 A SPT 1.02355 6.5 (bottom) B 32.5 1.02390 SECOND SERIES At anchor in Summer’s Cove, Aillik Bay; noon, August 4. Many cod jigged, at all depths from three to ten fathoms. TEMPERATURE, t SPECIFIC GRAVITY AT ’ * DepTH IN FaTHOMS TEMPERATURE ¢ Cent. : Fahr. Surface 6.2° 43.1° 1.01980 1 Dyed AD 1.01980 Z 3.5 38.3 1.02070 3 8.2 37.0 1.02125 4 1.2 34.2 1.02285 a 5 32.9 1.02355 6 3 32.5 1.02375 7 fi BVA 1.02385 8 =e Sher 1.02420 9 — 2 lee 1.02450 10 — 3 Bey 1.02485 11 — .o+ 31.4 1.02490 12 = 5) Set 1.02495 13 (bottom) — .55 31.0 _ 1.02510 294 LABRADOR Even in late summer the temperature of the water in the (ice-free) northern fiords remains very low. This fact is illustrated in the groups of serial readings taken during a visit of the same party to Nachvak Bay. One such group is represented in a THIRD SERIES Locality, on rocky bar three miles east of Hudson’s Bay Company station in Nachvak Bay and about seventeen miles from the mouth of the fiord ; 2 p.m., September 4, 1900. Air temperature, about 12.5° C. (44.5° F.). TEMPERATURE, ft SPECIFIC GRAVITY AT DEPTH IN FATHOMS TEMPERATURE ¢ Cent. Fahr. Surface 3.9° 39.0° 1.02380 1 3.3 37.9 1.02430 3 2.2 36.0 1.02510 9) oO 32.9 1.02595 ~ 10 A 32.0 1.02600 143 3) 32.0 1.02620 From these (hitherto unpublished) observations obtained in 1900, it appears that the water of the northern fiords, at depths greater than about twenty fathoms, never rises sensibly above the freezing-point of fresh water. There is little doubt that the cod does not travel far in its annual migration. After spawning, the school simply moves out into deeper water on the slopes of the con- tinental plateau or on the Grand Banks. There in depths of from eighteen to seventy fathoms they browse about. THE COD AND COD-FISHERY 295 Though this fish prefers such a range of depth, it may be trapped in water as shallow as two fathoms or as deep as three hundred fathoms. To the most favoured depths the animal retires after the spawning season, which is also that of optimum temperature along the immediate Labrador shore, has been passed. In rhythmic fashion the cod returns each year to its birthplace with the shoal, and haunts the same neighbourhood throughout its short season of inshore life. NortH DURATION OF Ween Locairy ARRIVAL CLos& oF FISHERY |" isuery 51° 30’ | Cape Bauld June 20 October 20 122 days 52° Chateau Bay June 20 October 1 102 days 53° 24’ | Batteau July 12 October 1 80 days 54° 26’ | Indian Harbour | July 15 October 1 78 days 54° 56’ | Cape Harrison | July 18 October 1 75 days 55° 27’ | Hopedale July 20 October 1 73 days 55° 52’ | Davis Inlet July 28 October 1 65 days a6- 0 | Nain July 28 October 1 65 days bye ra0! |) Okkak July 28 October 1 65 days 58° 30’ | Hebron August 15 | September 15 32 days The shoal arrives on the coast about a week later for every degree of latitude farther north. But, as codfish are spread over the whole coast of over a thousand miles simultaneously during August and September, the later arrival in the north cannot be due to a south-to-north move- ment of the same individual fish in a single shoal. The first fish at St. Anthony (on the Treaty shore of Newfound- land) appear about May 25; those at Cartwright, about July 25. In Europe the advance-guard reach the Nor- 296 LABRADOR wegian coast in January, host following host in a north- easterly direction. Sometimes they are delayed by the coldness of the season, and may then not run in until March. Professor Hind has prepared the preceding table of arrival and departure in average years at different latitudes on the Labrador. It may be noted that the cod of the western Atlantic coast ranges from Cape Hatteras to the Gulf of Boothnia in lat. 75° north. The smaller fish leave the shore first; the jae ones re- main on the near banks till well into November, when they withdraw into deeper water. Buffon said they retired to the polar seas, but it seems impossible that they go very far. Some Labrador cod are known to winter on the Grand Banks, as some with Frenchmen’s banking hooks sticking in their mouths have been captured by the Labrador crews. As cod began to show real or apparent failure on the New- foundland coast, and then on the Grand Banks, the great fleet of fishing vessels began to turn its bows northward. First, a few venturesome fishermen crossed the Strait of Belle Isle without having wetted a line or net, and risked their summer’s catch off the Labrador coast. These early pioneers were richly rewarded, and others soon followed in their wake. As it became imperative for more and more families to seek.a living from Labrador, many, who had no means of obtaining schooners of their own, managed to find their way north as “freighters,” with their more fortunate brethren. Arrived on the Labrador, a family of “freighters” builds a rude summer “tilt” at some spot suggested by their previous experience, and then fish from the land in small boats, returning in the same way in the | autumn. Thus commenced the great exodus of men, THE COD AND COD—FISHERY 997 women, and children that every year starts for Labrador from Newfoundland as soon as the ice of winter breaks up and the journey becomes possible. At length these so- called summer settlers pushed as far north as Cape Harri- gan, and the floaters as far as Cape Chidley. Of late years, however, an ebb tide has set in, and more fish is taken in the Straits and along the southern shore than in the north, and many of the northern summer settlements have been abandoned. On first consideration the Labrador voyage does not sound particularly enterprising. But there are features about it which are not immediately apparent. The entire living of these pioneers depends on the fishery, for the fur catching in Newfoundland is almost a negligible quantity as far as most of the men are concerned. Only of late years has enough work at the Sydney (Nova Scotia) mines or steel works, or at the iron mines on Bell Island, Newfoundland, been available, in case a family is left with nothing for the winter. Even that is not open to all. Labradormen have only one string to their bows, so that the daily increasing anxiety from not finding fish as the summer wears away tells heavily on the skipper. I re- member one poor fellow tying an anchor round his neck and jumping over the side of the schooner in the night. He came up with the cable in the morning. The mainstay of many of these men to-day, especially the southern men, is the little plot of land at home, which is attended by the aged or by those incapacitated and able to be spared from the long Labrador voyage. On this home patch they grow enough potatoes, cabbages, and turnips to “put them through the winter,” if only a hand- 298 LABRADOR ful or two of flour is available. Most of the homesteads also have a few sheep, and possibly a cow as well. Most of the fishermen spin their own wool, and make their own boots from the skins of their cattle and of seals which they tan in their net barking pots. They have thus no fear of utter destitution. Still, I have seen many of these people showing in the spring all the signs of meagre diet through the long winter months. Unfortunately, to keep a cow or garden is practi- cally impossible in the north, owing to the numbers of dogs used on the coast. Moreover, when the whole family has to leave for Labrador and the home must be closed, unless a neighbour can be found to look after things, the supplies from the tiny “farm” are necessarily cut off. The schooners in the financial reach of most of the men are home-made products of soft wood, 7.e. spruce and fir cut from their own bays, and mostly only iron-fastened. The vessels are often very small and also cheaply found in the most necessary of all their outfit, the holding gear. They have to carry such quantities of fishing gear that they are very crowded on deck, as well as below. The crew need so many boats that throughout most of the long voyage the small schooner will have to tow one or two be- hind. This necessity very considerably impairs the sea- going quality of the schooner. Thesalt nets and puncheons for oil are bulky; spare canvas and gear, if the crew is fortunate enough to be able to afford any, fill much of the remaining space. When, therefore, the time comes to take in “freighters,” men, women, and children, with all their personal and fishery outfit as well, it is little wonder that the dangers and discomforts are greatly increased. THE COD AND COD-—FISHERY 299 Many times I have seen these vessels with the space below decks divided only by chalk marks on the inner lining of the hold, to indicate the few feet allotted to each crew and family. The separation of sexes and privacy for women is inadequate at best, and frequently to all intents and purposes absent. I have attended confinements and almost every kind of sickness in these vessels where one could scarcely standup. Ihave seen suffering aboard them that I trust none of my own kith and kin will ever have to experience. The natural, simple kindness of the fishermen surely stands them in good stead. The fact that crowds of women and children are battened down in the holds of these vessels in rough weather is too suggestive to need detailed description. The carrying of single girls on these vessels has led to many troubles also, and I have never ceased to deplore the carrying of females as part of the crews of fishing vessels that are months away from home and civilization. It is a matter of profound gratitude that the opening up of other work is lessening the necessity for it, but it should long ago have been made illegal. The freighters are often so close to the decks and beams that it is impossible even to sit up without care. When the weather is rough, the hatches must be closed, and then no daylight can get below. Meanwhile the “lumber” makes it impossible to get about on deck in a breeze to handle the vessel. Such schooners, therefore, have to pick their way along the shore, “keep inside all the runs,” and always, if possible, get an anchorage at night. This be- comes doubly essential on the return voyage in the autumn, when the sudden storms sweep down off the high land and the proverbial gales of the “roaring forties” make it hard 300 LABRADOR for even well-found craft of that tonnage to live through them. Owing to the method of fishing, it is of paramount im- portance to secure a good place for the trap-net. A fisher- man may have built a summer house and stage, have left boats and gear and salt on the coast, and yet if he comes down a day after another man, he may find his trap-net berths already seized by the crew of some schooner an- chored near. The late comer may, therefore, after all, have little chance of getting a cargo or “voyage.” He has usually no chance of going elsewhere to look for one. Fish “sets in shore” as soon as the ice opens, possibly even before. “Snapper” men will be able, by going early, to run home with a ‘‘voyage”’ from the southernmost section of the coast, and get down in time for another in the far north, before it is too late for fish. The result is that the rush north commences long before the ice is gone, and craft are everywhere pushing north through lanes and leads in the ice, taking incalculable risks which occasionally end in disaster. The admirable skill and magnificent handling of their vessels succeed in averting accidents to a degree which surprises one the more he is familiar with the in- cidents of such a journey. As if these were not sufficient troubles, the heavy fogs which do prevail at times off the Labrador coast are most common in the spring of the year, and not a single pre- caution in the way of a warning bell or fog-horn has yet been placed to help the schooners from one end of Labrador to the other, except the Canadian station at Point Amour, sixty miles up the Strait of Belle Isle, where there is a steam fog-horn. Until two years ago, not a single light of any THE COD AND COD-FISHERY 301 kind whatever existed along this same area, and now only two small lighthouses on dark, wintry nights serve to guide these fisherfolk along more than one thousand miles of coast. This fact becomes more significant when one remembers that most of the craft are, as has been stated, obliged to run along the reefs and islands, and are not able to keep to the open sea and run home “on the outside.” The average mariner would consider that at least a good chart of the journey on which the vessels were bound was a prime es- sential, without which no one would be likely to venture. But regretfully we must add that no such thing exists. The present survey is so imperfect that in many places only dotted outlines indicate the actual shore-line, while many shoals and hidden dangers are either inaccurately placed or not marked at all. Fortunately, the tides of the southern part of Labrador are, aS far as navigation goes, practically unimportant, though they are often, and more especially with northwest to northeast winds, too strong for the big nets. The rise and fall of the tide is about six feet as far as Cape Harrigan. But as Cape Chidley is neared, the tides grow stronger and rise higher, till in Hudson Strait they rise thirty-five to forty feet, and run six to eight knots an hour. Boiling whirlpools and eddies seethe in the current of Gray Straits, and navigation in a schooner is, even at best, both difficult and dangerous. In view of all the dangers, one must feel proud of this crowd of emigrant fisherfolk,— proud of their physical courage, their self-reliant resourcefulness, of that big heart which makes them willing to ‘venture out” early each summer. 302 LABRADOR Progress in methods of catching the fish more quickly and safely, and with less personal exposure, has also marked the lapse of the years, though the primeval hand-line and hook is still the only gear to which many of the poorer men can attain. A hook-and-line man with work and tolerable fortune should catch an average of fifty quintals a year. As he has practically no expense but the purchase of salt, his average catch, along with his other possible sources of revenue, will afford a living. He has less anxiety as he has no valuable nets to lose, — for which many mortgage all they possess and then lose the nets. He is certain never to make an absolute blank, and he has considerably more time for other work. But he can never nowadays get “rich” in worldly possessions, and therefore nearly all aspire to “get twine,” if they can. The main difficulty with hook-and-line fishing is the difficulty of obtaining bait. Caplin are excellent bait, but when they are plentiful, cod can feed on live ones, and, being glutted, do not take the hook well. When cod are plentiful still on the banks, the caplin have left the fishing grounds. Lance, a fish like a small eel, have to be hauled at the bottoms of inlets far from the fishing grounds, and even then are not always obtainable. Crews of men have to spend all day rowing to get enough to supply the com- bined crews that have spared a man apiece to send them. Most bait, to be of service, must be quite fresh. The enter- prising Captain Bartlett of Turnavik, Mr. Croucher at Battle, Mr. Grant at Blane Sablon, now use small steamers for no other purpose than to get bait and carry fish and salt. Squids are seldom obtainable in Labrador. But some men have barrels of salt squids sent down. They THE COD AND COD-FISHERY 303 are useful, but not the best, and cost the fishermen fifteen to fifty cents per hundred. They are tough, and hold well on a hook. Mussels would be used if they would hold on the hooks. Bits of sea-gulls that the men shoot for the purpose are also employed. Even artificial bait has been tried with modified success, — rubber fish with hooks at- tached. Little net bags enclosing baits of mussels and gelatine — an invention of Mr. John Hayward — have been used with some success. But the bait question is ever the hook-and-liner’s worst difficulty. The tendency is to give up the puzzle and use what is known as a jigger, a piece of lead the shape of a fish, with two enormous hooks projecting from the bottom. This is “jigged” up and down about a fathom from the bottom, andsometimes hooks fish very quickly. Itnaturally sticks into the fish anywhere it strikes him, and the result is that many fish get away with bellies ripped open, eyes pulled out, etc. The shoals seem to follow these injured fish off the ground, though rather for the purpose of eating them than from fear of a similar fate. In some districts the use of the jigger is forbidden, as it is believed to be detrimental to the fishery. The first advance in methods seems to have been putting more than one hook on a line, till the present system of long lines, called “bultows” or “‘trawls,” with as many as three thousand hooks on a line, was developed. Lines up to seven miles in length have been used. ‘This is still a very favour- ite method, and is practically within reach of the poorest. Many large cargoes are now “made” on the inshore grounds in this way, as they have been made for many years on the Grand Banks far out at sea. But even this method has its 304 LABRADOR drawbacks. It involves both great risks and great per- sonal exposure. It allows so many wounded fish to escape that it is prohibited altogether along many sections of the coast. This prohibition is accomplished by getting local laws sanctioned by the Legislature and included in the annual ‘“‘ Fishery Laws.”’ In one place it was enforced by the residents at the end of their long guns; as they say, “ As well be hung as starve.”’ Oddly enough, at the opposite side of the sandy beach where they live, hand-lining has been ruined by west-coast boats with bultows, and the people who live there have, in consequence, fallen on very evil times. For this purpose the bottom beam and other trawls of the old country were found useless. Quite recently the enterprising firm of Bowring Brothers purchased a modern steam trawler, and tried all around the coast and islands, but met with so little success that the attempt has been abandoned. Gill-nets, which came next, are but little used for cod. Cod seem ordinarily too lazy in disposition even to put their heads hard enough into a mesh to be caught. This is, of course, very unlike the more agile salmon and trout. The large-mesh cod net, however, anchored on the bottom, still has itsadvocates, and at times many cod become entangled in the leaders of the trap-nets. The advent of the large seine-nets marked a very material advance in the rapidity with which the fish could be taken, and it is still at certain times and places the most success- ful method known. The net itself is an expensive affair. It is on an average eighty feet deep and over seven hundred feet in length. It has corks on the top to keep its upper end on the surface and leads on the bottom to keep the Weg surysjyeod smog Bulysi4 és. THE COD AND COD—FISHERY 305 foot down. It needs a great deal of rope to work it, and, as arule, a large crew of men. On an average, such a net contains five hundred pounds of twine, and costs, ready to go into the water, about $500. The crew of the long, specially constructed boat numbers seven men, one of whom is the “seine master’; he directs the oarsmen, himself standing up forward on the lookout for shoals of fish. This net can be used only in more or less shallow water, where tides are slack and where the bottom is smooth and perfectly sandy. The purse-seine, a variety which can be pulled together into a bag below, and so fished far from land in deep water, is not used on our coast. To enable the master to see fish in ten fathoms of water, he uses a “fish glass,’ a metal funnel with a plain glass bottom, which he pushes down below the ruffled surface of the sea. An advantage of the purse-seine net is that the fisherman pursues the fish with it,instead of waiting for them to come to him. It satisfies also the mind restless to be hunting and working, rather than, like the lazy spider, merely sitting down and taking the chance of the prey coming voluntarily along. The latest contrivance, however, and the one now gener- ally used, is called a cod trap. It is practically nothing but a large room with walls and floor of twine, and the sur- face of the sea for a roof. It has a door on the landward, into the middle of which passes an upright net partition, called a leader. The leader is made to the land or rocks along which the fish are wont to swim and feed in their great shoals. When the room or trap is seen by the crew in the boat overhead to contain fish, the doors are pulled up,and then the floor is passed over the boat till all the fish x 306 LABRADOR can be baled out with large dippers. In this way as many as one hundred quintals of fish have on many occasions been caught at one haul, so that a whole year’s wages can be easily earned if there is one fortnight’s good trapping in the year. Nevertheless, as fish do not go to every point every year, some fishermen who rely entirely on their traps will sometimes make an absolute blank of it. The trap is, Moreover, exceedingly expensive, with its strong ropes, heavy anchors, and immense weight of twine. A good one costs between $300 and $400, containing three hundred and fifty to five hundred pounds of twine. It is about three hun- dred and fifty feet in circumference, eighty feet deep, and — may need a leader from fifty to sixty fathoms long. In shallow waters, as in the Straits of Belle Isle, the trap may be only thirty feet deep. Being very heavy and unwieldy, it is often an impossible task to take it up in time to avoid bad weather, or quickly enough to save it from driving ice. The result is that in the sudden storms to which the coast is lable, great losses occur. Honest men are suddenly thrown into hopeless debt, as they have had to raise the net on credit, and perhaps their sole method of getting a voyage is lost in a moment. | The old two-handed jacks, or bully boats, which, in the autumn months, used to venture far off from the land with hand-lines, now lie rotting on the rocks at all the harbours on the coast. The fishery is developing into a great gamble. A man casts all he has and all he can borrow on a single issue. At times it renders him a magnificent and rapid return. If the fish come to his trap he obtains a sudden wealth, whereas if the fish do not come he goes home a broken man. THE COD AND COD-FISHERY 307 In many cases the merchants and traders own traps, and the crew operating the trap take, as their share, one-half or three-quarters of the first caught. Some traders give even four-fifths of the catch to the planter who works the trap for them. But the latter is expected to turn in all the fish he catches to the man who supplies the net, and to purchase all his stores from him also. That is, he will be really paid in kind, and a balance due him will be carried over on the books more often than paid in cash. This, however, has changed for the better in late years, and the payment of cash balances is becoming more common year by year. When the fish is actually landed on the stages, it is still far from becoming cash, and it runs all sorts of risks and dangers before it gets to market. Originally all Labrador fish went to St. John’s for exportation; to-day much of it is exported direct. We have as yet no cold-storage traffic. The fish is cured systematically. A table with notches in suitable places is fixed in a covered stage running out over the sea. To this a removable front with supports is added each spring after the ice goes, and taken in during the autumn. A shoot on the right hand of the splitter through this temporary part of the stage carries the offal, consisting of the head and entrails, into the water below. The boat ties to the front of the stage, and the fish are picked up with “pews”’ and thrown upon the pounds built up on the top. One person, usually a woman or child, picks up the fish and puts them on the table to the right of the “header” and the “throater,”’ who stands on the side of the table near the sea. The throat is cut with one hand, while the other hand passes the carcass to the header, who tears off 308 LABRADOR the head, scoops out the entrails, and rapidly passes on the body to the splitter. The splitter sits or leans standing on the opposite side, and keeps the stream of fish running on in the same way, the good portion falling into a large tub of water, the bones falling out through the shoot. Meanwhile, a washer stirs the tub and removes the washed bodies. ‘These he wheels off and piles up in rows, the salter following along with a barrow of salt. With a wooden shovel the salter shakes over the rows the amount of salt appropriate to the market for which the fish is destined. To save salt, men sometimes throw the fish bodies into tubs of pickle, making the pickle strong enough for a raw potato to float in it. It takes about one pound of salt to salt a pound and a half of cod. Washing out again takes one minute per fish. Salt wastes in bulk when stored, and there is a constant anxiety lest too much salt should be stored, or, far worse, there should not be enough salt to meet a sudden big catch of fish. This has often been the case, and I have seen many a quintal spoil and nets full of fish not being hauled because no salt was obtainable. To dry, fish needs sun and a proper set of the wind. The actual work of catching is not over till late in the year, and at that time the right combination of a westerly wind and a bright, not too hot sun does not come very often. The least rain, fog, or frost makes both drying and shipping impossible. While awaiting a clear day, the fish may be quickly stacked under shelter, or at least turned face down in small ‘‘yaffles,” or bundles. The fish’s own thick skin is a fair waterproof cover. Birch rinds, and even canvas bags, are used by some of the more enterprising men. Fish that gets wet once or twice never dries really white, especially THE COD AND COD-—FISHERY 309 around the edges. Hot sun also spoils fish very quickly; sunburnt fish turns black and slimy. This, however, is not so likely to happen in the bracing climate which, in that respect at least, is adapted to the fisherman’s needs. The most interesting and skilled part of the curing process is the splitting of the fish, the removal of the backbone. Women may cut off the head and take out the entrails. They also wash out and even salt the bulks, but a really smart split- ter is always the best man on a ‘“‘room” or a vessel. Good men have been said each to split a hundred quintal between morning and evening; that is, have cut out the spine, from head to tail, of ten thousand cod in one day. Moreover, the bone must be all neatly removed, and the flesh must not be injured. I have timed a good splitter who finished fourteen fish in a minute, whereas I myself took nearly a minute to a fish, and then did it poorly. The method of paying fishermen in Labrador has been, as in Newfoundland, almost entirely a barter system. The merchant fits out all “planters,’’ who really carry on the fishery. In return, he expects all the fish caught. He then gives him a “winter’s diet’’ out of the proceeds, if they are large enough; if not, the planters expect the diet on credit. They do not expect to turn in money earned in other ways towards this debt, and the law pro- hibits money earned at the seal-fishery being stopped for cod-fishery debts. In the spring a new outfit on credit is called for, and thus large debts pile up, which the mer- chants know they can never expect to collect in full, and which the planter soon begins to consider he does not really owe. They have been called red-letter debts. An example may be given. In 1896 one firm of mer- 310 LABRADOR chants trading in Labrador assigned. Their creditors found on their books as “‘assets’”’ the debts of four hundred and eleven souls, including women and children, people who are among the very poorest; these people owed the firm over $64,000. The value of these “assets” was returned ais iil, ¢ Thus the system was wofully bad for both parties. The fisherman, generally illiterate, was at the absolute mercy of the merchant, and lived and died a slave and in debt. The merchant was often ruined by bad debts. For not only did some fisherman, imitating Ananias, only turn in part of the catch and represent it as the whole, but often he became hopeless and apathetic, and lost all stimu- lus to do his best. Again, some men would temporarily give to friends who had good credit the bulk of their catch, in order to prevent its being absorbed in payment of their own debt. The fish thus held back might be bartered or sold to outside traders for goods such as tinned milk, sugar, and such “luxuries”? which they could not hope to obtain on credit from their own merchant. To prevent such frauds, a kind of espionage had to be exerted, and the catches of a suspected planter were watched as the season progressed. Convicted planters were turned off from their merchants and no one would take them on. Thus resulted in the end the worst cases of poverty, — cases, to my mind, not caused by the bad fishery, but by the bad system. Of late years, things have been improving, and a more general cash basis has come into vogue, though still there is room for improvement. The planter himself must have men to help him, and these THE COD AND COD—FISHERY a he can either ship for wages, or engage on shares paid out of the “voyage.” The pay of the shipped man has risen to $100, and even to $130, with food for the season. For that sum he must do everything the master tells him that will benefit the voyage, and may be called on to work all hours of the night and day from the first of May to the first of November. It increases the ‘gamble’ considerably to have all shipped men. If you ‘miss the fish” and earn nothing, you are still liable for all wages, but if you strike the fish, you will make very large profits. For a man is well worth $300 in a good year. Little as their wage seems, most of the men prefer employment under this system. They at least will have flour and molasses for their families, whatever happens, these wages, less advances for oil- skins, boots, etc., being always paid in cash. The shareman in this country usually agrees for “half his hand.” That is, the catch is divided by the number of men, including the owner or planter, and each shareman gets half a share. He has no expenses except clothing. Often the planter cannot, however, obtain men on these terms, and is obliged to take a full-share man. These men feed and clothe themselves and provide their own salt, but take a full share of fish. The more men a planter engages, the more fish he can handle and expect to catch, but the more numerous are the shares into which the catch must be divided. On an average, the shareman gets every eighth fish out of the trap for himself. It has often puzzled me how the hired man with $100, less expenses, could live, much less feed his family; at best he can scarcely do more than merely exist. The following statements taken at random will illustrate 312 LABRADOR how pitiful is the living of a hook-and-line man in a poor year. Both men, A. B. and C. D., are well known to me as capable and industrious. One cannot wonder that they may be in perpetual debt to the merchant. A. B. is a “handy man’; his wife is dead and he has eight children, most of whom are young. His financial year may be described in informal bookkeeping thus: — — INCOME EXPENSES Caught on hook and line, Nails, oakum, paint, 30 qtl. of fish at $3.20 $96.00 rope, etc. . . . . ieee Salmon, none; easterly Hooks and line . . . 2.50 seas destroyed nets 16 bbls. flour (cheapest Oilfrom codfish, balanced possible) . .. 2.0 s80300 against salt for fish 5 bags hard bread . . 19.00 Winter work, logging for 50 gal. molasses. . . 22.50 mill. . .. . . . '44.00 ] 12 Ib. cheapest tea . 4.80 $140.00 | 10 lb. oleomargarine . 2.00 Balance against A.B. 10.80 | 1 bbl. salt pork . . 16.00 $150.80 $150.80 A. B. had no potatoes for seed, no cabbage seed; no money for powder, shot, caps, crockery, kerosene, matches, boots, oilskins, clothing, house repairs, tools, bedclothes, etc.; no luxuries, no doctor’s fees, no church expenses. C. D. has awife, two small sons, and three small daughters, owns no nets, shared this year in two salmon-nets with an- other man. His account for the year stands: — THE COD AND COD-FISHERY Blo INCOME EXPENSES Caught on hook and line Boat, $5; salt, $6; lines imequivet cod . . . $38.40 and hooks, $2.50 . . $13.50 Value of oil from same at Fishing boots, $4; oil- 30f pergal. . . ) 76:00 skins oO SiS tans neaO Share of salmon, 14 al Ge bOn) Hlouraal sy bles atmo: Worsomroads . . . . 3.00 molasses 45 gal. at 45% 85.25 Herring, one bbl. . . . 2.00} Hard bread, $11.40; tea, Work on lumber and at $4.00 .° =>. . 15.40 mani, . . . . 99.00 | Oleomargarine, $1; ; ica Potatoes ald PP iis a OO Osene, G2.) see eo 00 $125.90 | Kettle, $1; matches, Balance against C.D. . U8 thread, needles, and (0/21 Cr nmemmreeccmnes pe 02400) $126.65 $126.65 It will be observed that C. D. has not nearly enough fats in his food-supply to sustain him properly even in a warm climate. Like A. B. he lacks most of the civilized neces- saries and luxuries of every description. The most important change that has of late years come over our fisheries has been the one most needed of all; that is, the chance of obtaining remunerative work during the long winter, when the fishery is out of the question. Now- adays, a man who fails need not see semi-starvation and scurvy, and even death, overtake his family before he can again find a source of supplies. Such results of starva- tion I have seen more than once. Pulp and lumber mills, mines, and other industries may now afford work for most of those who return south from Labrador before they “freeze in” for the winter. A somewhat similar improve- 314 LABRADOR ment has followed in Labrador itself, though trapping fur- bearing animals is there naturally the second string to the settler’s bow. Few fishermen grow rich. Some, however, are able to put by considerable sums, and there are as happy and com- fortably provided families among our fisherfolk as can be found among any artisan class in the world. The very nature of the calling begets a healthy body, a simple nature, and an easily contented mind. Unaccustomed to luxuries, the lack of material wealth causes no vain regrets. Inured as they are to privations, the smallest acquisition gives pleasure. They may not aspire to have servants under them; they are their own masters at least throughout their working days. They have an interest in and love for their occupation, the like of which one can scarcely credit to a factory hand, who is always making a piece of a complicated whole, and never finishing a job, or can credit to a clerk on a high stool everlastingly add- ing up figures. The men love their calling, and with sound reason. For sheer love of it, I know several, who, after trying Canada or the United States, have returned eventually to their old occupation as being “a far better job.” In what other calling are poor, working, unedu- cated men so able to enjoy the luxury of independence, the prize which riches might seem able to purchase for the wealthy only, and yet to which many rich men never in any way attain! When the French Revolution began, the fishers of cod on the Newfoundland-Labrador shores were already estab- lished in their more prosaic industry. In 1812 the catch of fish on the Labrador and French shore combined is THE COD AND COD-FISHERY old said to have been 29,500 hundredweight. The catch in some of the later years may be given: — In 1814. ‘ : : . 44,650 hundredweight S21". : : : . 49,652 hundredweight 1323 5 : ‘ . 40,399 hundredweight 1824. 5 : : . 42,240 hundredweight In 1845 two hundred vessels from Newfoundland, mostly from Conception Bay, went to Labrador; they are reported to have employed five thousand men. In 1851 it was estimated that seven hundred vessels went to the Labra- dor from Newfoundland, carrying from ten to fifteen thou- sand men; their catch was computed to be between one hundred and sixty thousand and one hundred and eighty thousand hundredweight. Harvey states that in 1880 from one thousand to twelve hundred schooners carrying over thirty thousand people went to Labrador; of these about one hundred vessels were from Canada. Prior to 1860 no accurate account was kept as to the annual takings in Labrador. The trade report issued by His Excellency, Sir William MacGregor, in 1906, states that for the thirty years preceding the average annual export of dry codfish from the whole colony of Newfoundland has been 1,246,664 quintals (hundredweight) at an average value of $4,830,079. The report shows the average annual export direct from Labrador in various periods to have totalled as follows :— 1860-64 . ‘ : . 192,051 hundredweight 1865-66 . : é . 197,885 hundredweight 1873-77 yj. ; : . 300,854 hundredweight 1878-82 : : . 371,681 hundredweight 1885-89 . : - . 216,434 hundredweight 316 LABRADOR 1890-94 . . , . 257,314 hundredweight 1895-99 . A 5 . 220,150 hundredweight 1900-04. : ‘ . 219,948 hundredweight 1905-06 ; 296,553 hundredweight Besides the fish sane) avon each year, an average of three hundred and fifty thousand quintals is carried from Labrador to Newfoundland and exported thence. This gives a mean annual output from Labrador of about six hundred thousand quintals. In 1906 and 1907 the figures ALG. = SENT TO NEWFOUNDLAND VALUE EXPporRTED DIRECT $1,030,492 | 545,000 quintals | $2,180,000 1,013,227 | 345,000 quintals | 1,380,000 1906, 250,857 quintals 1907, 289,493 quintals GRAND TOTAL VALUE 1906 $3,210,492 2,393,227 795,857 quintals 634,493 quintals In 1905, 342,219 quintals, valued at $1,237,829, were exported direct from the Labrador. In 1907 the entire export of dried codfish from Newfoundland and Labrador amounted to 1,422,445 quintals, valued at $7,873,172. The total product of the fisheries for the colony in that year was valued at $10,058,052. The average price during these years has varied very considerably, but on the whole has tended to improve, THE COD AND COD-FISHERY 317 and has reached as high for Labrador fish as $4 and even $4.20 per quintal, that for shore or Newfoundland fish having reached an average of $5.30. This difference in price needs explanation. It arises from the fact that cer- tain markets prefer the fish drier and harder salted than do other markets. In Labrador the fine days for drying fish are rare after the fishery is over; it is, therefore, better to ship the fish damper, or, as people say, “with only a day’s sun,’ rather than wait perhaps weeks to be able to dry the fish hard. There is, however, one other alternative, and that is to take the fish south “‘green”’ or unwashed in salt, and finish the cure in Newfoundland. If a man has few fish and plenty of help, he can thus employ himself at a remunerative wage to raise the value of his Labrador catch to that of shore fish. But if he has much fish and work to do on his little farm at home, or perhaps other better “paying work,” then he will ship direct from Labra~ dor. It must be remembered that drying the fish entails loss of weight, and after all it may pay better to sell ten quintals at $3.50 a quintal than dry the same fish to eight quintals and sell at $4 or even $5 a quintal. More- over, some of the schooners have so many “freighters” and their gear to carry to and fro that they are unable to take their fish to Newfoundland whether they would wish it or not, while the merchants who have ordered steamers or schooners to go to Labrador for loads are so anxious for the fish to reach the markets early, that they will give at times considerable bonuses over the price arranged by the Chamber of Commerce. Last year men who refused $3.60 spot cash in Labrador realized only $3 to $3.20 in St. John’s. 318 LABRADOR The rapid loading, and the accepting of all the fish “Tal qual,” z.e. just as it comes along, greatly encourages bad fish-making, and as the loading often goes on by flares after night, sometimes unsound fish will be slipped in, and a whole cargo injured or even spoiled. Moreover, the fish does not receive so severe a culling on the Labrador as it does in Newfoundland, and, indeed, is generally taken with- out culling. The merchants run very considerable risk in exporting fish. The hiring of their vessels, small as most of them are, is an expensive business, and the small margin left for profits when there has been a keen competition in prices to “finish a vessel,’ has left many an enterprising man sorry he ever “touched it.” The vessels used are mostly square-rigged schooners, and old-fashioned small brigs and brigantines. Indeed, the industry is serving the useful purpose of helping to perpetuate this very interesting class of vessels, which everywhere else is becoming extinct. These vessels represent a distinct bond with the mother country, for they are mostly Welsh, with some from Devon- shire. They are handled by the type of sailor of long ago, men whom one would expect to step off Amyas Lee’s vessel on its return from the Indies. These men are possessed of the material which made their prototypes so desirable an asset to their country. They are sailors to the soles of their boots, and amongst them are many of the most simple, God-fearing, contented men I have ever seen. The masters are generally part owners, and often mess with their crews as with a party of friends. Many a helpful hand do they lend our fishermen, for the vessels are bound to be out here by a certain date. Being slow and uncertain, the vessels often arrive two months early, and even have to wait three THE COD AND COD—FISHERY 319 months for their complement of fish. During all that time their crews are the good geniuses of the little havens in which they are anchored, and the “skipper” and his medi- cine-chest are in continual demand. The itinerary of these visitors is somewhat as follows: September, leave Labrador for the Mediterranean; thence in December to their homes; then cargo of slate or ore pos- sibly to Hamburg; in March, to Cadiz for salt; then to Labrador by June, and so on back again. Once home in the year, if all goes well. They make a modest living, and are able to retire before old age incapacitates them. Some are lost in the “roaring forties,” the latitudes in which they mostly ply their calling, and many are the stories of heroism and suffering on these vessels that the sea could unfold. On one occasion a skipper, deserted by his crew at Bonne Esperance, sailed his square-rigged schooner across the Atlantic alone to Gibraltar with a cargo of fish. Sometimes they will carry fish to the West Indies or Brazil, and then possibly return with molasses to St. John’s before taking a final cargo to the Mediterranean. I have seen a vessel leave in late October with ice on her sides, and every one muffled up. In three days she will run into the warm atmosphere of the Gulf current, the men will be in their shirt-sleeves, and a few days later they will be eating fresh fruit in Spain. A very favourite holiday among these men is to get a lift across as far as Genoa, and perhaps work a passage out from Gibraltar, or come out again by way of England. Naturally there is considerable rivalry in making quick passages. The westward passages are always longest, the prevailing winds in the North Atlantic being from 320 LABRADOR southwest to northwest. But the following examples show what can be done under favourable circumstances : — The square-rigged schooner William ran from Labrador to Patras, Greece, in twenty-three days. The square- rigged schooner Red Rose took only seventeen days to reach Genoa from Labrador. The fore-and-aft vessels can make fast round-trip passages. Captain McCrea’s fore- and-aft schooner Clara left Harbour Grace, reached Gi- braltar in sixteen days; lay there thirteen days; went to Patras, Greece; lay there fourteen days; returned to Cadiz, loaded with salt, and was back in Harbour Grace in ninety- eight days. In my own fore-and-after, the Albert, I left St. John’s and was anchored in Great Yarmouth, England, in twelve and a half days. No doubt quicker passages have been made than any of these. __ 3 Of late years, Norwegian and Danish vessels, being “cheaper,” have partly taken the trade from British mer- chants, but there are still firms patriotic enough to pay more in order to secure British bottoms. Italy is the best market for Labrador fish to-day, though up to 1904 Spain took most from us. Spain and Greece take quite a large quantity still. Of late years the United Kingdom has not taken so much, the ports to which we export being Liverpool, Exeter, and Bristol. The Portu- guese and Brazilians, who are the largest consumers of dry cod, like it very hard, and nearly all their fish goes from Newfoundland. The fish culled out as not suitable for other markets is shipped to the West Indies at a lower price. The culling of the fish is a most important measure, and though as a rule the men will avoid a “cull” if possible, it THE COD AND COD-—FISHERY 321 is really distinctly to their own interest. In self-defence, every buyer of fish should agree to insist on it. For the fish really varies immensely in value according to the qual- ity, and that depends far more on the making or curing than on the fish, except that big fish are, as a rule, more salable than small ones. Remove the cull and sell the fish “Tal qual,” and at once all incentive to spend time on clean- liness disappears. It is almost like putting a premium on laziness and carelessness. As the Newfoundland and Lab- _ rador fish must compete in Europe with Norwegian and even French fish, the whole colony suffers with the loss of the good name of its marketed fish. It is an all-important issue to almost every one in the colony, as all are more or less dependent on King Cod. The printed forms on which receipts for fish are given by a large firm to its dealers or fishermen, show clearly how common it is to accept all Labrador fish as of the same value : — Received from Qtl. Ib. Large . ; ‘ é : ° . Merchantable fish. . : z s 6 : Medium 2 Small Madeira . West Indies Tal qual . Inferior . Damp Dun Slimy Labrador and also casks of gallons of oil BD, LABRADOR To cure and dry a single quintal of fish uses salt and time, and costs money, but it often pays to cure the catch when it is not too large, for the price per quintal then rises so much that the net profit is actually greater. Five and one- quarter barrels of Cadiz salt or six and one-half barrels of Liverpool salt (29.7 gallons to barrel) will cure 2205 pounds of cod, — that is, 1485-1462 pounds of salt to 2205 pounds of dry cured fish. Salt comes to from twenty-five to thirty cents per quintal of dried fish. The markets are subject to very rapid fluctuations. A cargo scheduled for a certain port may arrive just too late, find the port glutted with other arrivals, and have to proceed farther, which means fresh port dues and expenses. There is thus a veritable race both in loading and in making the transatlantic journey. This has led to the employment of steamers to carry the fish; then the merchant finds the new difficulty that steamers large enough to pay ex- penses are likely to flood any local market to which they are consigned. Again, the consignee has at times thrown the cargo back on the merchant’s hands, the condition of the fish not equal- ling that which he desires and to which he feels entitled. Sometimes the whole cargo will be actually returned to Newfoundland. This, however, is so ruinous to the mer- chant that he generally arranges for an arbitration to be held, and lower prices may be agreed upon. The result is some incentive to protest against accepting the agreed price. In addition, there is always the element of risk, unavoidable by the merchant, that the quality of the fish may have deteriorated on the passage. Very large losses have been made in this way by individuals, who are in turn THE COD AND COD-FISHERY 323 compelled to bring losses on the fish-catchers when it is imperative for the merchant to compound with his creditors. The element of chance, that a bad voyage may, after all, turn out a good one, adds another attraction to fishing, however monotonous it may appear. The love of a gamble is innate in man. Of late years there has been a consider- ably larger quantity of fish exported by smaller men, but the tendency is to confine the actual export process to the larger firms. | Naturally the Norwegian catch influences the total supply very materially, and a failure there means better prices here. The French can scarcely afford to export fish, for they are paid such high bounties for taking it to France. Happily for the fish-catcher, the markets for salt fish are not only opening up wonderfully, but the price obtain- able has also been steadily increasing, and has risen from 2.22 cents per pound to 4.74 cents in the last six years. This, more than anything else, explains the general pros- perity of our people. For the rise in the market price is out of all proportion to any increase in the amount of fish taken. There is good reason to suppose that this rise in price will be maintained as long as the article exported is properly cured. The wealth and numbers of the peoples requiring this produce are steadily increasing, and other proteid foods are rising in price synchronously. It seems, therefore, that in this respect our future is still in our own hands, and that there are yet halcyon days in store for our folk that “‘go sailing out into the deep.” The import duties imposed by our customers vary ereatly. France prohibits foreign cod altogether, with a tariff of $4.68 per quintal, besides giving bounties to her own 324 LABRADOR men. Spain charges $2.34 per quintal, Italy 40 cents only, Greece 38 cents, Portugal $2.14, Brazil $1.39, United States 84 cents; Persia, of all countries, free import, and the United Kingdom, free as usual! France pays 50 frances to each member of a crew drying fish away from France; 30 frances to each member of a crew drying the fish in France ; approximately 10 franes on every quintal of salt fish shipped to transatlantic countries; 16 francs per quintal on ship- ments to cisatlantic countries; a bounty of 20 francs on cod roe brought back to France. So that besides the prohibitive duty on the fish of other countries, grants to foster French fisheries amount to approximately one and one-quarter million dollars per annum. That means that, if our fishermen were accorded similar privileges, they could almost afford to catch fish, get the bounty, and give the fish away. These important duties and bounties show that some countries do not value the codfish much, or they would welcome it in freely as a cheap food-stuff. Yet they strive all they can to make their own men go and catch it. Great are the mysteries of statesmanship ! | Now the value to the human race, or any section of it, of a particular calling or industry or commodity cannot be measured altogether by the dollars each brings the govern- ment or the number of people it employs, though we are apt to apply these standards. If we did so, the liquor traffic would be classed among the most valuable to the race. Yet while the fishery is productive and constructive, the liquor trade is destructive, both of human capacity and of material. Probably of all industries the one of first importance to the British race is that which involves THE COD AND COD—FISHERY 325 the following of the sea. For in the art of man-making no environment can surpass it, and sea-power means world- power. Few landsmen have ever given a thought to the influence exerted on mankind by the humble codfish. Nations have jealously watched these dreary wastes of icy, fog-bound waters, and spent human lives by the thousands in the years that are gone in the endeavour to turn the food and money that these finny hosts spell into their own treasuries, and to gain also the environment involved and its evolu- tionary advantages. As early as 1368 kings were granting rights to fish for cod in the North Sea. Henry the Fifth paid compensation to the king of Denmark for damage done by the English cod-fishermen to his. The Cabots’ dis- covery of this north land opened up a great source of human food-supply which has been, and will be, of greater value than the diamonds of Golconda or the gold mines of the Rand. It was landlubbers ignorant of the value of these northern seas that made Canada in 1813 lightly give back to Newfoundland the coast from Blanc Sablon to Cape Chidley ; made England lightly give back to France the islands of Mi- quelon and St. Pierre, and the rights of fishing on the Treaty coast; and permitted the American fishermen the privileges of the treaty of 1818. Our debt to this small denizen of the deep is far greater than those consider it who only view the fishery from a gastronomical or economical standpoint. Strange as it may seem, the codfish has been an invaluable factor in preserving and evolving that genius of the British race, which in God’s providence at the time of the Invincible Armada alone allowed us to persist still free among the great powers. That genius, which four hundred years ago pre- 326 LABRADOR served us from national crippling or from absolute deletion from the roll of great nations, is in danger of being lost by the general increase of wealth and luxury. I shall here only suggest the debt that the Catholics of Europe owe the codfish. The vast amount they consume is the best proof of the value at which they estimate him. But I can suppose that the family circle on many a Friday night would sit around the table with blank faces if it were not for this additional virtue of our friend, viz. his gratify- ing faculty for passing muster as eligible for dinner before an ecclesiastical inquisition which has placed all our staple articles under the ban. And for this discernment the world in return owes the authorities of the Church a very real debt, inasmuch as they so directly encourage in this way a calling so invaluable to mankind. Thus it cannot be said that, in praising the codfish, we have exaggerated his virtues. Not only has he bred a healthy race; he has invigorated a weak one. His oil has enabled us to battle successfully with the subtlest en- emy of our race, the tubercle bacillus, even in the face of . all the wonderful discoveries of modern science and the hoards of money lavished on other methods. A couple of years ago, when the supply of cod-liver oil was short, the crude article rose in value in a couple of months from forty cents a gallon to $4 a gallon direct from the barrel. May the men of Labrador never need the emasculating paternal legislation of our neighbours in Europe, or the bounty system of ‘presents for good boys that venture out to sea’?! When the world beholds the spectacle of the Eng- lish, as a race that will not venture forth on the mighty waters without being stimulated by such adventitious aid, yo9[4 Surysty OyL THE COD AND COD—FISHERY 327 vzxing those who have to stay home, then indeed may we pray again for our good genius in the form of a codfish. Lf ever that day comes, may our friend be put on the national flag, and let him rank three codfish with three lions. CHAPTER XII THE SALMON-FISHERY By W. T. GRENFELL Or the four varieties of salmon in Labrador, — Salmo salar, Salmo trutta, Salmo immaculatus, and Salmo hudson- zcus, — only the first two are of commercial importance. Salmo salar is a noble fish. In strength, beauty, and spirit he is certainly superior to any others in the Labrador waters. He is found from end to end of the coast, but less abundantly in the north, where he remains a shorter time than in the south. He arrives during the period between the latter part of June and the end of July; and, after brows- ing about on the coast for a month or so, proceeds up the rivers to breed. It appears that for some time he runs in and out of the river mouth, as if to accustom himself to the change to fresh water. The salmon is really a river dweller, a luxurious fellow with a winter home in the sea, but in most countries two- thirds of his life is spent in the rivers. So strong a homing instinct does he possess, that he can hardly be kept back from returning to his own particular river, the place of his birth and the abode of his first year. This has been shown by marking live salmon taken at the head of a river, carrying them around to another river, the source of which was quite close to their own, but whose mouth was the opposite side of a great stretch of land. Three weeks later some of the marked fish were caught in their own pool again. In 328 THE SALMON—FISHERY 329 Alaska a barrier of sand and gravel was once formed across the mouth of a river by a phenomenal storm. The river was, however, able to percolate through. When the salmon returned to their river, so determined were they to get up, they threw themselves out of the water on to the pebbly beach, and some at least succeeded in wriggling and jump- ing till they reached the other side. The natives profited by the experience, though the devotion of the salmon deserved a better fate. Only three things will apparently keep salmon from their own home, — pollution of the river, insuperable natural barriers, and man’s persecutions. All these three are one, and that one is Death. If the summer is early and the water warm, well and good; they return to their riverearly. If itis late, they are content to “bide.” If it becomes too cold after they arrive, they will return to the sea and go up again later. In these adventurous journeys the larger fish are the leaders. Obstacles are only things to be overcome. They will leap ten feet out of the water up a cataract. With successive leaps they will climb a fall of thirty feet. They will go on jumping till they are dashed to pieces and, bruised and dying, are borne down on the bosom of the river they loved, back to a tomb in the great deep out of which they came. The zeal of Kim and his old Lama in search of the river of the arrow was no greater than that of this kingly-spirited fish. The fact that he can no longer people our rivers is no fault of his.’ This very persistence of the salmon is his own undoing. 1 A most interesting fact noticed about salmon by Mr. W. G. Gosling is the existence in certain rivers below the falls of pot-holes scooped out by the water in the solid rock. While watching salmon leap up 330 LABRADOR I have lain on a high perpendicular rock, watching the gill- net stretched across the pool of clear, transparent water. I have seen the approach of the victim and his friends on the journey, the courage with which he charged the net. If only he would give way, he might yet go free. But he knows no yielding, and is not satisfied till the tough twine has passed over his head, caught behind his gills, and then it is too late to save himself. But we will follow the more successful fish that reach the home of a former year. Once in their pool, the mother fish finds a suitable sandy or fine gravelly spot in shallow water, where the ground is soft and deep, and the current not too boisterous. Often enough it is the nest of a sea-trout before her, but of that she takes little account. Throwing herself on her side, she scoops out a “‘redd,” or nest, by flapping her tail, and in this she deposits a number of eggs. She then returns into deeper water, coming to and fro to her nest to lay more eggs for several days, till she has laid as many as five hundred for every pound she weighs. Each time, her male partner accompanies her, depositing the milt required to fertilize the eggs. Since they entered the river, they have avoided one source of danger by taking no food, and they subsist on the fat accumulated on the rich pastures outside the river. Indeed, the beautiful pink of their flesh depends on the crustaceans they have there devoured. the falls, he noticed first one and then another, that failed to clear the fall, totally disappear. A careful search revealed the fish head down and only their tails out of deep little pot-holes. He caught the fish for food, but was surprised to find the hole full at the bottom of bones of salmon that had no doubt perished miserably in the same way. It shows that salmon at times come head first down into the water when diving, like an expert human being. THE SALMON-FISHERY 331 One result of their abstinence is a peculiar pinched and hungry look on the male fish’s face. His jaws grow hard and hooked, and he is thus able to fight the many battles that lie before him, with far better chance of damaging his enemy. The “spent”? salmon are called ‘“kelts.”” They are so weakened that they fall an easy prey to any strong enemy they may meet. Like eels, many, if not most, salmon die after spawning. With scanty gratitude men have advised giving the poor salmon no protection at that time on the theory that the spent adults will, in order to recover, if they ever do recover, destroy in the process more young fish than they are worth. On the other hand, as the kelts are not worth eating at that time, and are thought by some observers to be poisonous, it is poor policy to capture them. A fisherman who had taken a number was once asked by a “protective”? enthusiast, if it was not true they were not good to eat in that state. The fisherman replied “‘That’s true,” but with a wink added, ‘“‘Them’s not bad kippered.”’ The eggs of the salmon are remarkable. They are round and about one-quarter inch in diameter, of a pink colour, elastic, so that they bounce like a ball off a board. They will hatch out in a month, but if it is too cold, and cir- cumstances are not right, like a caterpillar in a chrysalis, they just wait till the conditions are more to their liking. They can be carried in ice for thousands of miles; stored in this way, they have been carried and successfully propa- gated in India, Australia, and New Zealand. The adult fish also can stand great ranges of temperature ; he may be caught as far south as lat. 37° north and as far north as lat. 70° north. The salmon so fill some rivers aon | LABRADOR that when the waters subside with the advance of summer, the odour of rotting fish on the banks and in the branches of trees is said to be positively poisonous. On Kadiak Island in the North Pacific they are so abundant in certain rivers that the fish “interfere with the progress of canoes.’”’ The variety found in Cook’s Inlet averages four feet in length, and weighs fifty pounds. The natives here kill in their primitive way some twenty-five thousand fish per year, which provides for each person the moderate allowance of four hundred and thirty pounds, or about four pounds a day the year round. Once hatched out, the little salmon, or parr, is handi- capped for three weeks by the large umbilical sac on which he subsists. He is fain, therefore, to hide away closely among the stones, for many creatures are fond of him. Insect larve, beetles, crustaceans, large fish, rats, and even diving birds, are all anxious to take himin. If he survives, he remains in the river for one or two full years. During this time he has grown to a sizable fish of a couple of pounds’ weight, but his full glory does not appear until, in his third spring, he assumes his glittering silver armour. He is then known as a ‘“‘smolt,” and attains the dignity of venturing into the unknown immensity of the ocean, with his fellows of his own age, as they go forth in the wake of the great salmon. In the river the samlet, or parr, is not troubled with the scruple of his parents, and feeds voraciously. But it is not until he reaches the great sea that he begins to grow at all rapidly. It has been said that he will grow from a few ounces to as many pounds in three months. He may return to winter a second time in the pools and lakes, a full- THE SALMON-FISHERY 333 erown grilse. This pleasure is, however, generally deferred till the fourth spring, when the fish arrives in all the pride of silver and with all the well-known energy of a three- to six-pound grilse. Those who have felt the rush and jump of these exquisite creatures on the end of a light line in rapid water know the marvel of their agility. The males are at this time mature, but,as a rule, do not spawn. They seem simply to have a good time in the upper reaches and, not until the fifth year, when they have grown to the weight of ten pounds at least, do they feel called upon to assume the duties of the head of a family. The grilse, from their agility or smaller size, are fairly successful in escaping the cod-trap leaders. They even pass through the salmon-nets in the rivers, and the rod- and-line fishing for these is still excellent in many Labrador rivers. Eagle River still gives good sport for salmon, and an enterprising Hudson’s Bay factor is trying to arrange a summer hotel for visitors near the large pools. Sandhill Bay River also gives good fishing. The late General Dash- wood came two years in succession from England to fish in this river. Many of the other rivers would doubtless afford sufficient attraction if only they were given a fair trial. But as yet little is known about them. A party in a steam-yacht, visiting Byron Bay in 1907, claim to have had good sport there, but we had no accurate details of their actual catch. Landlocked salmon are very common in the lakes and upper reaches of the Hamilton Inlet. One feature that tells most in favour of the rivers on the Labrador coast belonging to Newfoundland, is that no rivers are reserved for clubs or private owners, and visitors may visit or fish any or all at 334 LABRADOR their own will. No fishing tackle can be obtained on the coast. Silver Doctors, Jock Scotts, Soldier Palmers, Dur- ham Rangers, and Fairies are all good flies on the Labrador rivers. Why salmon leap at a fly at all, is much debated. The need for food does not alone seem to explain the habit, which has persisted from the smolt days of their youth. A much greater puzzle is, Why are salmon timid to-day, voracious to-morrow? Why will every salmon refuse to look at a fly at nine o’clock, but at nine fifteen o’clock every salmon in the pool will leap at any fly one likes to try? The salmon that return to the rivers in the winter lose their bright colour. The males become dark in the back, and have a dark red colour developed on the sides and belly. The females are a dark, dusty gray, somewhat resembling coalfish. Their flesh becomes white, and they are useless for eating. LHarly in the fifteenth century, it was a capital offence to kill salmon out of season. The Labrador salmon are said to be the best in the world for eating. The cold waters seem to produce a specially vigorous, well-fleshed fish. The salmon-fishery in Labra- dor preceded the cod-fishery by many years. The former was much the more valuable then. With salmon catch and fur trade the resident white population grew up and flourished ; with the destruction of the salmon those people have fallen into poverty, and even into starvation. In the history of the Labrador settlers we may read the pitiable story of the blotting out of these valuable fish. The increasing quantity of twine used on the outside for codfish offers no prospect that the salmon will assume their former abundance. THE SALMON-FISHERY 335 As long ago as 1774, at any rate, the Alexis River, and soon after the Eagle and other grand rivers of Sandwich Bay, were completely net-barred. Of late years the “bay- men,’’ or livyeres, have been slowly obliged, owing to the increasing scarcity of the salmon and to the declining price of salt salmon in the market, to abandon this fishery and try for cod. The transition stage is a time of great misery for the poor settlers. Their nets, small boats, outfit, and habits are all calculated for the peaceful fishery in the bays; for the rougher fishery outside they have neither gear, education, or inclination. Many try to do both. But the cod arrive on the coast before the salmon take to the rivers, and these men are very apt to make a blank year, entailing great pri- vations on their own and other families. Whether man can decrease the number of cod or herring in the deep sea is uncertain, but that by netting rivers you can empty them of salmon, is a well-ascertained fact. The former great abundance of this fish on the Labrador is well emphasized in the following few extracts from the journals of the inimitable Major Cartwright in 1775-1785. In July, 1775, he writes of the Eagle River: “‘We have 140 tierce (casks) ashore, but have had to take up two nets, as fish get in too fast.’’ “The big pool is so full of salmon, you could not fire a ball into it without injuring some.” Even the animals seemed to know the wonders of this river, which must have been almost as well stocked as the Fraser River in British Columbia. Cartwright describes “remains of thousands of salmon killed by white bears round the pool.’ His famous description of some fourteen white and black bears that he saw fishing in the pool is quite 336 LABRADOR unique. In 1776, August 7 to 11, Cartwright took 1230 salmon from the pool in one week. “At Paradise we have 214 tierce ashore. Few escape there.” In his “artless” poem he writes :— “*, . . salmon up fresh rivers take their way, For them the stream is carefully beset ; few fish escape.” That is not to be wondered at, for he says, “‘ My ten nets, each forty fathoms long, fastened end to end, stretch right across the stream.”’ On Salty: £7,14779, “In Eagle River we are killing 750 salmon a day, or 35 tierce, and we would have killed more had we had more. nets. Three hundred and fifty tierce ashore already at Paradise. If I had more nets, I could have killed a thousand tierce alone at this post, the fish averaging from 15 to 32 pounds apiece. At Sandhill Cove two men have 240 tierce ashore, and would have had more, but we had no more salt.”’ From June 23 to July 20, in Eagle River, he killed 12,396 fish, or 300 tierce. In 1782 he writes: ‘ Little or no salmon at Cartwright, only 80 tierce.” ‘In 1786 he writes: “We have 490 tierce in White Bear River, and Paradise R. and 165 tierce at Charles Hr.” Naturally enough the archaic story of the clause in the apprentice’s indentures, that he was “not to be forced to eat salmon more than thrice a week” is told of Labrador in these days. In 1818 Mr. Pinson was getting two hundred tierce of salmon at Cartwright. He received a bounty of three shillings per quintal for this shipment to England. In 1864 Mr. Stone’s average catch at Henley was sixty THE SALMON-FISHERY 337 tierce for a season. The entire catch, as given in the Gov- ernment Blue Book for 1906, was eight hundred and twenty tierce, valued at $16,487. The catch in 1907 was seven hundred and fifteen tierce, valued at $16,057. This catch cannot, however, represent much more than half the amount caught, for nearly every trap-net used in the cod-fishery catches salmon in its leaders, and these are salted, smoked, and carried to Newfoundland. I have known three hundred salmon taken in one day in a cod- trap. The trap leaders specially used for salmon are set out from points exactly as cod-trap leaders are, and being four inches instead of six inches in mesh, stop much smaller fish. In this way a very large number of small salmon are taken every year, and in the opinion of many people, the traps do more damage to the salmon than the river nets. Rivers in Labrador are, as a rule, not now barred, but practically all that are of any value are illegally netted. It seems that a prescriptive right has grown up with some residents to fish rivers in defiance of the law, and the only one on which a fish warden is appointed is regularly netted at least three miles above its mouth. If, however, these rivers received the protection the laws of the country nomi- nally afford them, there is no reason why they should not again become as attractive to visitors and sportsmen as those of the Canadian Labrador. The regular method used to catch salmon in Labrador is to set the gill-net from the land. These nets are fastened by a mooring to a “shore fast”’ and run straight off to sea. The salmon seldom swim more than a few feet below the surface, so the nets are fastened to a line of corks on a Z 338 LABRADOR ‘head rope,” and hang down perpendicularly. The legal mesh is not less than six inches in diagonal measure. At the outer end, the line of nets, called a “fleet,” is held by heavy anchors, and then a pound is formed by turning back with another net at an angle of forty-five degrees in the direction from which the salmon are expected to strike. At times yet another net is added, so that the triangular pound is closed, leaving merely a door. The salmon do not strike a net in daytime so readily as do sea-trout. They seem, however, to get confused in the pound, and in this most are taken. The Hudson’s Bay Company, who are by far the largest salmon buyers on the coast, own many nets. They also own houses, or ‘‘posts,’’ as they are called, at all the best points of land in the long inlets, and the planters use these and turn in half their fish as rent. For the balance they get goods from the company’s store. Most of the salmon catchers are fur trappers, although those who live on the outside land do little or no “‘furring.”’ Indeed, many have fallen into poverty and have neither traps, safe guns, ammunition, nor even clothing and food to enable them to get out and face the Arctic cold of winter. This is now the poorest class of men in Labrador. Formerly the Hudson’s Bay Company had a large salmon cannery in Eagle River. The building is still standing, but the trade has been abandoned for want of sufficient fish to maintain a scale of business large enough to enable them to compete with British Columbia and other places. The salmon industry is generally in a bad-way, as the price of the salted article has steadily declined, till this year instead of $6 and even $8, only $3 a hundredweight was paid. The THE SALMON-FISHERY 309 Hudson’s Bay Company gave far the highest prices on the coast these last two years. Were it not for them, the fishery would be practically abandoned. Last year, 1908, anew method was tried. Mr. E. Gibb of Aberdeen, Scotland, brought over a large tank steamer, in which to carry home to England live fish. He fished in a way new to Labrador, pursuing the fish with a floating trap-net. This enterprise failed owing to the inability to keep the fish alive. In 1920 Mr. John Clouston of St. John’s established the first cold storage plant for salmon at Packs Harbour, Labrador. He shipped altogether to London in 1921 nearly 9 million pounds of frozen salmon, and hopes to send 2 million pounds in 1922. He was also able to send salmon in ice to St. John’s for freezing and reshipment, owing to our cool climate. A new method of sending salmon covered with a thin layer of ice by being dipped in water, and frozen at once rapidly promises even better results. This year our people received twice the amount for salmon from the net, that previously they got for it split and salted. This is likely to be increased next year by more plants being erected. CHAPTER XH THE HERRING AND OTHER FISH By W. T. GRENFELL THE immense value of the herring to the world has been known for centuries. One thousand years ago our ances- tors in England knew its virtues.” To-day it is of no less, but rather of greater, importance. With the increasing population of the earth’s surface, with the ever growing need for food-supplies, we can ill afford to neglect any pre- caution that might tend to the development and main- tenance of so immensely valuable an industry as that of catching herring. In this Labrador once had its share. Alas, to-day the glory of the Labrador herring-fishery has departed, and only a few paltry barrels find their way to the markets. So important has this industry been, that Professor Hux- ley calculated that at least three billion herrings were, in an average year, killed for food of man in the North Sea and the open Atlantic. As these herring average eight ounces at a minimum, the immense weight of food, one b_llion five hundred million pounds, speaks for itself of its importance to the human race. For herring is a fat fish. Lying in Lerwick Harbour, among nine hundred herring boats, I have seen the oil set free in the splitting of captured her- ring cover the surface of that immense harbour so thickly that, though the vessels would be sailing in and out with a stiff breeze, not a ripple of any sort would be visible. It left 340 THE HERRING AND OTHER FISH 341 a most marked impression on the mind. One of those fat herring, taken straight from the water, then split and grilled on a gridiron over an open fire, will actually catch fire from his own fat. But in Labrador our herring have won a well-earned reputation for being facile princeps among the world’s her- ring; only those from the Icelandic and Shetland waters can compare with them. ‘The Labrador fish run to seven- teen, or even more inches in length and weigh nearly one pound apiece. Kings and queens have worshipped at the shrine of the herring. William Berkelzon of Flanders, in about 1300, discovered. how to cure red herring, and generally how to preserve them better for food. After his death, Charles the Fifth erected a monument to his memory, visited his grave, and there prayed for his soul. Mary of Hungary, in a somewhat appropriate way, paid tribute to our bene- factor by sitting on his tomb and eating a red herring. In North Scotland there is an old saying, “‘No herrings, no weddings.”” The “common” herring is not taken in the Pacific or Mediterranean, but, nevertheless, has a great range, — from Cape Hatteras to Spitzbergen and the White Sea. The one failing of the herring, and the one thing that still keeps hope up that he may return to Labrador, is his incon- stancy. He seems to disappear according to some subtle law of nature which has baffled all the skill of scientists, and has eluded all the speculations of fishermen. History records that European herring were to be found in vast quantities in the year 1020 a.p., and during the following periods: the twelfth century, 1260-1341, the fifteenth 342 LABRADOR century, 1550-1590, 1660-1680, 1747-1808, 1857-1878, and also of recent years. Such large quantities have been taken in the North Sea these past two years that all previous records have been eclipsed. They disappeared from the Norwegian coast from 1655-1699, and again from 1784- 1808. In 1871 they almost ent:rely disappeared again. The old theory that all the herring lived in one vast race in the polar seas and made a circular tour of the waters they are found in, was eloquently described by Buffon, but is now abandoned. There is little doubt that many separate shoals exist, and that they do not retire into ocean abysses, or mid-ocean, where they cannot be taken. When they leave the shore, they probably feed on the slopesin moderate depths near the coast they frequent. They have been captured in one hundred fathoms of water off the New- foundland coast. They are easily affected by temperature, preferring a temperature of 55° F. But they are caught in water as cold as 37° F., and the Scottish fishery is mostly in water at 41-42° F. ‘The eggs (thirty-one thousand, on the average, to each fish) which sink and stick to the bottom are eaten in vast quantities by many species of animals in the waters. It is, obviously, of great importance that the egg stage should be as brief as possible. Nature seems to furnish the in- stinct, therefore, to seek water at 55° F., the optimum temperature for rapid hatching. In any case it is probable that in the Labrador polar current which carries the tem- perature of 30° F. in subsurface layers, the herring is not likely to breed at all. This view coincides with the actual observations that herring do not spawn north of the Mag- dalene Islands and the west coast of Newfoundland. THE HERRING AND OTHER FISH 345 It is impossible to believe that man has had any hand whatever in driving herring from the Labrador. The her- ring-fishery on this coast has, at best, been on a very small scale. Professor Huxley states that even in the North Sea man cannot be responsible for as much as five per cent of the herring killed. From the time of the egg to the full- grown fish this huge family of the herring is preyed upon by larva, crustacean, andsea-worm. ‘All thatmen take would not compromise one school of twelve square miles area, and there must be scores of such in the North Sea.” If every herring lays thirty-one thousand fertilized eggs, and all but two of the family are killed every year by their enemies, the herring would still maintain their vast num- bers. ‘“‘Man,” says Professor Huxley, ‘is only one of a great cooperative society of herring catchers, and the larger share he takes, the less there is for the rest of the company.” The herring seems specially adapted for man’s use. Like the cod, he has no poisonous nor pain-wreaking spines; he herds together so as to be caught quickly in vast quantities ; and he can be easily preserved. He is a deep-sea fish, and is thus not dependent on refuse food in shallow water. Young herring fetch a high price as ‘“‘white bait.” ‘A large proportion,’ says Professor Goode, ‘‘pass under the name of ‘French sardine.’’? Some are canned in spices and sold under the sti'l more imaginative name of ‘ brook trout.’ If, however, they have been feeding on crustaceans with hard shells, these, being undigested, putrefy very rapidly and spoil the herring. Herring barred inside a seine are, therefore, as a rule, safer to cure if left for two or three days in the net while digestion is finished. Though the herring have small teeth on their tongues 844 LABRADOR and the roofs of their mouths, they feed by sieving the water through gill-rakers armed with teeth and fine spines, which catch the small copepods, etc., and gently guide them down their throats. They spawn in spring and autumn, but the same herring only spawns once a year, and they do not spawn till eighteen months old. The danger to the herring increases immensely when they come into the shallower waters for this or any purpose. It seems, therefore, another provision of nature that they should be a swift-swimming fish and, after spawn- ing, leave rapidly for deep water. Dr. Moses Harvey, the historian, writing in 1880, says the average export of herring from Labrador was 50,000 to 70,000 barrels for the years immediately preceding. In 1880, 20,000 barrels were exported; in 1881, 33,330 barrels; in 1908, only 180 barrels. As many as 500 barrels have been taken in one haul at Snug Harbour. Captain Hennesy described to me how, thirty years ago, he sailed through millions of herring north of Cape Mugford; their vast bulk made the surface of the sea oily. There are many superstitions about herring, and the reasons advanced for their not “coming in” have been of every conceivable kind. Tochange this luck,some amusing ceremonial “charms” have been invented, such as dressing a fisherman in a striped shirt and riding him around the town in a wheelbarrow. Another valuable recipe was to pick out herring with red fins without letting them touch wood, and then pass them round and round the scudding pole as many times as the number of lasts of herring you hoped to capture next autumn. A “ last’? means 1320 her- rings. Less amusing was the burning alive, two centuries THE HERRING AND OTHER FISH 345 ago, of men and women supposed to be bringing evil luck in the fishery. Laws have existed in England forbidding the taking of herring between sunrise and sunset, under the idea that the nets turned the fish. An Irish law forbade nets to be out between sundown on Saturday and sunrise on Monday. Probably the best laws, however, areno laws at all, until more definite knowledge is possessed as to the real causes of the movement of the herring. A great deal of the value of the cured article depends upon the methods of cure, and much skill is needed to be really successful. In Europe the fish is pickled round, not being split at all; in America they are split and cured; in Holland the belly is clipped off with scissors. The variety of barrel is also important. The wood once used with us was hard, clear spruce. But the Labrador barrel industry has died with the departure of the herring. For more reasons than one many have been left sorrowing. But 1921 showed good promise of herring returning to the Lab- rador coast, and in spite of the tariff in the U.S. prophets are now foretelling the reéstablishment of that industry. Mackerel are not taken in Labrador, except occasion- ally on the shores of the Gulf of St. Lawrence. The range of this fish is from Belle Isle Strait to Cape Hat- teras. The lack of variety of round fish on the Labrador is compensated only by the abundance and quality of the cod and salmon. None of the marketable flatfish of Europe and ene frequents our waters. Absent is the succulent sole, the de- lectable plaice, the toothsome turbot and brill. The witch sole, deep-water denizen though he is, pays us no visits. Of all these prime fish, only a stray halibut wandering in from the enormous schools that frequent the great 346 LABRADOR banks one hundred and fifty miles from our shores, pays tribute to our Vikings of Peace, the acknowledged masters of the mighty Atlantic, even among the rocks of Labrador. His name, halibut, probably means “holy plaice,’ — ‘“‘holy’”’ because a favourite food on holy days. He is often found in water as deep as two hundred and fifty fathoms. He prefers to live in water approaching the temperature of 32° F., or that where fresh water would freeze, and he ranges from the fortieth parallel of north latitude to the Arctic Ocean. The larger specimens attain lengths of eight or nine feet and weights of four hundred pounds; some- times these giants have lived to so great age that large barnacles may be found growing on the skin, much as bar- nacles grown on an old whale. It takes a hand winch to haul up a big fish, and four or five men to get him over the side. Where only two men operate the dory, the usual plan is to list the gunwale over level with the water and then rush the fish and water in together. The halibut has sometimes had his revenge by capsizing the little craft. On one occasion a Gloucester vessel had brought asick man of their crew to our hospital, and, wishing to express gratitude, offered us a fresh halibut. We gladly accepted, the change of diet being very welcome. We were a little surprised, however, to see later four stalwart men coming up the platform with a fish swung on poles — the fish the size of a porpoise! The fish smokes most excellently, the pieces then much resembling good Wiltshire hams in appearance. Halibut are eminently fitted to survive. They are very swift and powerful, have large mouths with fearful, sharp teeth. They have a most catholic appetite that readily embraces a few dozen younger brothers or sisters if these get THE HERRING AND OTHER FISH 347 in the way. Half a barrel of flatfish was taken out of the stomach of a single halibut. This fish, though commanding good prices, does not form a Labrador export, the banking fishery being carried on by our American cousins. These come to us as early as April, sail round the south end of the ice-floe, and so reach the banks; or, if leaving in February, make straight for the south coast of Greenland and try to get north by keeping outside the two currents of drifting coast-ice. On one occasion the skipper of a Boston vessel came to a hospital before our harbour ice had all gone, and we gave him a drive round on the ice with our dog-sleigh, as he had never seen dogs travelling. The main impression on his mind seemed to be “‘To think we had ripe strawberries before I left home a fortnight ago !”’ In Europe and America the dab (Hippoglossoides limandoides) flourishes in beth cold and warm waters. In his youth he is a free-swimming, upright fish, but takes to lying on one side on the bottom. He shows his adapt- ability by causing the under eye to travel round over his nose, as this eye would be useless looking down on the ground. He has fine, shiny scales. In Dublin he is called the smeareen, and is much eaten by the poorer classes. On the New England coast he passes as the “‘mud dab,” but on his arrival in New York he further shows his adapt- ability by assuming the name of the “‘American sole.”’ In Labrador he is classed with the ‘offal’? and contempt- uously thrown away. The dogs, however, appreciate his qualities better, and one often in the spring sees a dog wading about looking or feeling for the dab in the mud, and then quickly diving down and bringing the struggling, 348 LABRADOR squirming fish ashore, there to be swallowed alive. The dab’s hope of safety lies in escaping notice, and this he does whenever he is at rest. He flaps about till he settles in the mud; the mud which he has stirred up falls again, and covers all but his eyes and nose. At largest, the fish reaches twenty inches in length, and weighs up to two pounds. He remains all winter. As he is the first fish to be taken when our ice goes, he is speared by the boys, and, when food is short, cooked and eaten. But herring so soon follow the departure of the ice that even in this season the dab is seldom used. Visitors, however, esteem him highly whenever the native cook will condescend to prepare him for table. Probably it is the ugly face with huddled-up eyes and distorted mouth that tells here against his popularity. The cause of his ugliness is explained elsewhere by a strange legend. It is said that when the fish were sum- moned to settle who should be king, the plaice was late, delaying to paint on some of his beautiful red spots. When he heard the election was already over, his mouth so twisted in disdain it never came straight again. A still older legend accounts for his being coloured only on one side. It runs that Moses, having caught one, proceeded to cook it over an oil lamp, but when one side was broiled and grilled, threw the fish into the sea. The winter fluke (Pseudo-pleuronectes Americanus), the cousin of the dab, closely resembles him in size and ap- pearance, and is found here, as he is all along the North America coast, south to Cape Cod. The lump-fish (Cyclopterus lumpus) is very common with us, but is practically useless. We have been too stupid to find a use for him, except as a fertilizer. He has de- THE HERRING AND OTHER FISH - VEBAg veloped a sucker on his belly, with which, being a lazy fish, he fastens himself upside down on any moving thing, and will then drift about without the trouble of swimming. The common sculpin, or scavenger, exists all along the coast. There are two varieties, Cottus scorpioides and C. Grenlandicus. He really consists of a large mouth, an indefinitely distensible belly, a voracious and omnivorous appetite, and an outside coat of sharp spikes. One can searcely credit him with feelings, for when fishing with the sharp jigger for cod, the same sculpin will run for the hook again and again, though the barb may in the earlier capture have been in almost any part of the anatomy. Sometimes a fisherman has had to oblige him by leaving him on deck in order to avoid the worry of repeatedly hauling in the line with the useless fish adhering. Our dogs, however, make nothing of his horny and thorny exterior, and eat him with great gusto, always commencing by biting off his tail. At a pinch, the sculpin would be very useful in sustaining human life. Another fish that stands by us all the winter is the rock cod. Heis much likea small cod in appearance, but darker, with partly iridescent sides. He remains about the har- bours. As a matter of fact, he is ‘not at all bad eat- ing,’ but is considered by the fishermen very inferior to the true cod, and is always rejected from those they export. He is, however, dried up with the smaller cod, which are not split, but simply salt-sprinkled. They are kept for winter use under the name of “rounders.” He is also taken through the ice in winter, and has frequently shared with the lowly clam and mussel the honour of preserving the life of those in one of these scattered communities. 300 LABRADOR Hake or haddock arerarely seen in Labrador. Theformer fish is easily distinguishable by his silvery armoured coat, and the latter by the black marks on his shoulders, irrev- erently attributed to the fingers of St. Peter, who is said to have pulled him out of the water to pay taxes, with the money in the fish’s mouth. Why the spots are black, tradition does not say. It seems to surprise most people that the shark is found in Labrador, as he is always associated with tropical waters. The variety we have is the sleeper, Somniosus microcepha- lus, the little-headed, sleepy shark. He has a large body up to fifteen feet long, and fully lives up to his name. He feeds on offal thrown overside, earning the name of gurry shark; he is the most despised of our ocean fauna. He frequently gets caught in the sunken nets for seals, though not nearly as often as he deserves, for he browses along the nets, eating out the seals. In most cases his energy is not sufficient to make him push into the net. A ten-foot shark has a mouth contour of two feet, and a gullet proportional. It is said that he eats live whales, biting huge pieces out of the abdominal blubber; but I cannot believe him smart enough to do this. So sharp are his teeth that he will seulp all the fat and skin off a dead seal, without taking two bites at one piece. I have taken from his stomach nearly every bit of a seal’s skin and fat in one long string the width of the shark’s mouth, almost as one takes off the peel from an orange or an apple. On one occasion we found in a shark the carcass of a red dog, which we had left on a pan of ice to drift out to sea a week previously. The sleeper shark seems to have little capacity for pain. Captain Atwood reports that after driving a scythe right through one’s THE HERRING AND OTHER FISH 301 stomach, it came placidly back and went on feeding off the same dead whale in the same place. In large numbers these sharks haunt the ice-fields, where the sealers have left the mutilated carcasses of the young seals. I have driven a boat-hook into one bigger than myself, as it lay basking on the surface of the water, and hauled it easily out on the ice without its making any notable resistance. On one occasion, with the help of a couple of men, I hauled out five from one hole through the ice in this same way. The only commercially important part of the sleeper is the liver, which yields fifteen to thirty gallons of very ex- cellent. oil; for the purpose of securing this oil a shark- fishery grew up on the coasts of Norway and Iceland. Our fishermen sometimes use a lump of its skin-covered flesh for scrubbing the floor. The flesh is white and nauseous, and even our dogs, voracious as they are, will scarcely eat it. This shark seems quite indifferent to man’s presence, and isnot aman-eater. It is almost impossible to conceive that the shark’s stomach should still, by some races of hu- man beings, be considered the gate of heaven; and that living children be offered by mothers to its rapacity that the children may enter paradise through that probably most repulsive of all forms of death. CHAPTER XIV THE OCEAN MAMMALS By W. T. GRENFELL To compensate the Labradormen in some small degree for the loss of herring and the depreciation of salmon, a whale- fishery has sprung up. The great success made in killing sulphur-bottom, finback, and humpback whales, in North Newfoundland, led to a hope of great things from them for Labrador. But the numbers killed have been very limited.’ The whales themselves are, however, so intensely interesting, it is worth while referring to the various sorts one is liable | to see in Labrador. The whale is, of course, really a land animal, but he has left his native element, and taken to a roving, nautical life. Now his legs are not necessary for locomotion; hence they have become rudimentary and are enclosed in his thick, rubbery, oily skin. The arms are not used in swimming, but simply for preserving the animal’s balance or for grasping the baby whale when it is in danger. Of all the adaptations of these strange beasts to their environment, perhaps none is more remarkable than the arrangement for hearing. The whale has no need of the sense of smell, but he does need to hear the approach of an 1In reading the records of the Moravian Missions for the years 1780 to 1850, one is greatly struck by the number of dead whales men- tioned as having been discovered, from time to time, on the coast. 352 STS peop] SNe Suyeo ‘spusu sip] pue ,youeyy,, sury