1 
 
 NE WFOVNDLAND 
 
 h AND ITS UNTRODDEN IV A YS 
 
 J. C. MILLAIS
 
 THE GIFT OF 
 
 FLORENCE V. V. DICKEY 
 
 TO THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 AT LOS ANGELES 
 
 THE DONALD R. DICKEY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 OF VERTEBRATE ZOOLOGY

 
 BY THE SAME AUTHOR 
 THE WILD-FOWLER IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 With a Frontispiece in Photogravure after a 
 Drawing by Sir J. E. Millais, Bart., P.R.A. 
 S Photogravure Plates, 2 Coloured Plates, and 
 50 Illustrations from the Author's Drawings and 
 from Photographs. Royal 4to, gilt top, 30s. net. 
 
 THE NATURAL HISTORY OF THE 
 BRITISH SURFACE-FEEDING DUCKS. 
 With 6 Photogravures and 66 Plates (41 in 
 Colours) from Drawings by the Author, Archi- 
 bald Thorburn, and from Photographs. Royal 
 4to, gilt top, £(>, 6s. net. 
 
 THE MAMMALS OF GREAT BRITAIN 
 
 AND IRELAND. With 62 Coloured Plates 
 by the Author, Archibald Thorburn, &c. ; 
 62 Photogravures and 140 Uncoloured Plates. 
 3 vols., 4to, gilt top, ;^i8, i8s. net. 
 
 LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO. 
 
 LONDON, NEW YORK, BOMBAY, AND CALCUTTA
 
 £^ 
 
 <yA.^:^(Ce^^i^y/'^'^i..e^ J^ayn-^a^e^ty^^-tyt-c^^'^ .
 
 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 AND ITS UNTRODDEN 
 WAYS 
 
 BY 
 
 J. G. MILLAIS, F.Z.S. 
 
 AUTHOR OF "A BREATH FROM THE VELDT," "BRITISH UEER AND THEIR HORNS" 
 
 "THE WILD-FOWLER IN SCOTLAND," "THE NATURAL HISTORY OF 
 
 THE BRITISH SURFACE-FEEDING DUCKS," "THE MAMMALS 
 
 OF GREAT BRITAIN AND IRELAND," ETC. 
 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY 
 
 THE AUTHOR 
 AND FROM PHOTOGRAPHS 
 
 LONGMANS, GREEN AND CO. 
 
 39 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON 
 
 NEW YORK, BOMBAY, AND CALCUTTA 
 
 1907 
 
 All rights reserved
 
 ■ y — 't I 
 
 /SI 
 
 Ml. I 
 
 n 
 
 "DEDICA TED 
 
 TO 
 
 HIS EXCELLENCY 
 
 Sir WILLIAM MacGREGOR 
 K.C.M.G. 
 
 GOVERNOR OF NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 #-^#^^*:^
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 INTO THE TERRA-NOVA COUNTRY 
 
 PAGES 
 
 Newfoundland and its attractions — Caribou and their migrations — St. John's — Daily 
 papers — Terra-Nova — Guides — Little Mike and his pets — Start up Terra-Nova River 
 — A bad river — Lake MoUygojack — St. John's Lake — The Beothicks — Their early 
 history, habits, and treatment by white races — Captain Whitbourne's account — 
 Lieutenant Cartwright and Captain Buchan's expeditions — Cormack's expedition 
 — Mary March — Indian methods of killing deer I -30 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 CARIBOU HUNTING NEAR LAKE ST. JOHN 
 
 No luck — Move to a new country — First success — Continuous drought — Capture of 
 another stag — Saunders and his seal-hunting days — A dangerous calling — Story of 
 Matilda Barworth — Jack's dreams — ^They come true — Discovery of a new lake — 
 Female caribou and their horns — Stephe the Indian — Stories of Stephe and the men 
 he did not like 3J-S6 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 BEGINNING OF THE MIGRATION AT MILLAIS'S LAKE 
 
 The French shore question from the Newfoundlander's point of view — Lobsters — Hunting 
 in timber — A fine stag — A long shot — A poor chance at a good head — Deer begin 
 to migrate — Baxter Stroud and Noah Dimot — -Equinoctial gales — A thirty-five pointer 
 — Journey towards civilisation — Conclusion of first trip ..... 57-7'^ 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 EXPEDITION INTO NEW GROUND UP THE GANDER RIVER 
 
 Projected visit to Labrador — Boat sails before its time — Decide to try fresh ground in 
 Newfoundland and be my own guide — The Gander and its difficulties — Unknown 
 country — ^Judge Prowse — He tells of the inception of the railway — Glenwood — 
 Sandy Butt — Timber resources of Newfoundland — The " superior " Canadian — The 
 Gander Lake — Frank de la Barre — Start up river — A shallow stream — The 
 greater yellowshank — The first meat — Rolling Falls — Flies — Wound a bear — Black 
 bears and their habits — Bear stories — VVrecking — Close of an unlucky day . 75-102
 
 viu CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 A hunter's paradise 
 
 PACES 
 
 A great game country — Kill a thirty-five pointer — The uncertainty of" river-hunting" — 
 
 Reach open country and kill two fine stags — Love-sick stags .... 103-112 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 HUNTING ON THE UPPER GANDER AND RETURN TO GLENWOOD 
 
 Beautiful country — Successful still-hunting — The river becomes difficult — ^Drought pre- 
 vents journey across Newfoundland — A hunter's paradise — Hunting incidents — A 
 great stag at last — Stormy weather — Decide to return — Vagaries of wind — Death of 
 the forty-nine pointer — The bear and the carcase — Bears wreck the cache — Difficulties 
 with the boats — Reach Glenwood — The hotel — The " accommodation " train . 1 13-'37 
 
 CHAPTER Vn 
 
 A VISIT TO THE OUTPORTS OF THE SOUTH COAST 
 
 The fascination of Newfoundland — Sport and geography — Modern fin-whaling — The 
 beauty of Placentia — -St. Lawrence — Doggerel names — Flowers — -Dogs — Sheep — The 
 curse of ownerless dogs — Butterflies — The natives — Their conservatism — Habits — 
 Insanitary surroundings — Modes of life — Cod-fishing — Methods of taking cod — 
 Dangers of the fishing — The Naval Reserve — Its importance in the future . 138-159 
 
 CHAPTER Vni 
 
 MODERN FIN-WHALING AND THE GREAT WHALES 
 
 History of Newfoundland whaling^ — The far-seeing Lord Bacon— The Spanish Basques 
 — The inventions of Svend Foyn — New methods — Immediate success in Europe and 
 Newfoundland — Description of the great whales — The blue whale — Adventure of 
 the Puma — The common rorqual — Chase of the finback — Rudolphi's rorqual — 
 The humpback — Incidents of humpback hunting — A dangerous whale — Occasional 
 visitors 160-183 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE CHASE OF THE BLUE WHALE 
 
 The St. Lawrence whale factory — The whaling steamer — I go for a cruise — A rough ex- 
 perience — Bad weather and no whales — Hunting finbacks — Sight blue whales — 
 Details of the chase — A successful shot — The death flurry — ^Methods of raising — 
 Sharks— Dr. Rismuller 184-193 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 ACROSS NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 Intend to cross Newfoundland by canoe — ^John McGaw — Voyage along the south coast 
 — Bale d'Espoir — Mr. Leslie — -W. E. Cormack — The first crossing of Newfoundland 
 — Pack over the mountains to Long Pond — Trees — A dangerous lake — Soulis Ann, 
 Brazil, and Little Burnt Lakes — The skilliilness of the Indian — Sunset on Little 
 Burnt Lake 194-204
 
 CONTENTS ix 
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 THE MOUNT CORMACK REGION AND HISTORY OF THE NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 MICMACS 
 
 PAGES 
 
 Round Lake— The first stag — Petroleum springs— Shoal Pond — Decide to visit Mount 
 Cormack — Dead Man's Rapids — Lake Pipestone — Schoolboys again — Abundance of 
 deer — Stags are scarce — A great rarity — Indian "calls" — Cormack incorrectly 
 mapped — Bad weather — Return to Shoal Pond — Differences of temperament — 
 Unscientific doctoring — Joe's melancholia — An excellent hunter — Start into the 
 unknown country — The Matthews boys — The Micmac Indians — Their numbers — 
 Religion— Modes of life — Hunting areas — Deer killed by them — List of the Indian 
 hunters — The chief— The curse of drink- The difficulties of obtaining just laws — 
 Jealousy of the Indians about their trapping-grounds — ^Joe's anger — Dog Lake — 
 We kill some meat 205-227 
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 DISCOVERY OF THE SOURCE OF THE GANDER AND INCIDENTS OF 
 STILL-HUNTING IN THE TIMBER 
 
 The attraction of the unknown — The difficulties of Newfoundland exploration — Start 
 packing towards the east — The source of the Gander discovered — Ascend Partridge- 
 berry Hill — New lakes — Martin's appetite — I kill a stag on the summit of Burnt Hill 
 — Beavers — McGaw's first kill — Beaver dams — Plabits — A shot at dawn — ^Journey 
 down the Gander — We camp for a week — Female caribou with large horns — A 
 long shot — Hunting on the Gander — McGaw gets a good head — My friend leaves 
 for the coast — A poor season for heads — Still-hunting in the timber — The caribou 
 an alert animal in woods — Kill a fine thirty-four pointer — We get " bogged " — Calling 
 a stag — A curious head 228-248 
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 WORK AND SPORT IN THE UPPER REACHES OF THE GANDER AND 
 
 GULL RIVERS 
 
 The lynx in Newfoundland — Abundance of stags — Fine horns — Serpentine Hill — Successful 
 hunting — Tramping the country — The source of the Great and Little Gull Rivers 
 — Nearly drowned — Bad weather — Good-bye to Joe — Difficulties on the line . S49-261 
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 TO MOUNT SYLVESTER WITH THE MICMAC INDIANS 
 
 Theories about the caribou migration — Decide to survey the Long Harbor River and 
 Mount Sylvester country — Sir Robert Bond — Introduction of capercailzie and black 
 grouse to the island — The GUncoe — Belleoram — Philip Ryan — Indians — Steve 
 Bernard — Matty Burke — His adventure in St. Pierre — ^Johnny Benoit — The Long 
 Harbor River—John Hinx — ^John's story of his youth — Willow grouse — Ptarmigan 
 — Wild grasses — Ponies — A difficult river — New lakes — Matty Burke and Johnny 
 Benoit leave for their trapping-grounds — End of canoe journey . . , 262-277
 
 X CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 OPEN-GROUND HUNTING ON THE SHOE HILL AND KESOQUIT RIDGES 
 
 PACES 
 
 An open country — " Tufts" — The Kesoquit Hills — Louis John's tilt — Micky John — Herd 
 caribou — Shoe Hill — ^John spies a fine stag — A massive head — The caribou a great 
 fighter — Go to Mount Sylvester^Heavy packs — A thirty-nine pointer — Stalking 
 with the camera — Some successes and many failures — Great deer roads — Mount 
 Sylvester — A splendid view — Abundance of deer — A large hummel — Find a 
 grand stag — Death of the forty-five pointer — A long stalk ends an eventful day — 
 The joys of hunting 278-295 
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 WANDERINGS ABOUT LAKE MAELPEG AND MOUNT SYLVESTER 
 
 Close of the rutting season — Kill two stags — Indian bootmaking — Steve's story of the lost 
 man — Foxes — Abundance of deer — The migration commences — A lucky shot — 
 Packing and canoeing homewards — Discomforts of winter travel — Appreciation of 
 Newfoundland 296-308 
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 THE NEWFOUNDLAND CARIBOU 
 
 The caribou — Local races— Their similarity — The Newfoundland variety — Indian names 
 — The "toler" — Horns — Indian superstition — Large heads — Author's specimens, 
 with measurements — Female horns — Food — A great " trek " — Winter habitat — 
 Migrations — Game laws — Deer not decreasing — Autumnal habits — Fighting — A 
 reckless animal — Fears — Voice — Glands — PlM;ued by flies — Introduction of reindeer 
 to Labrador — Introduction of moose to Newfoundland 309-336 
 
 APPENDIX 
 Outfit — Indian names — Colloquialisms — Game laws 337-34°
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 PHOTOGRAVURE PLATES 
 
 Drifting by the Gander Birches 
 MiLLAis's Lake from the East 
 
 Happiness ! 
 
 "He was jes like that old Rip" 
 Returning to Camp after a Good Day 
 A Great Stag ..... 
 
 Frontispiece 
 Facing p. 50 
 
 58 
 66 
 
 252 
 296 
 
 COLOURED PLATES 
 
 Newfoundland Caribou ...... 
 
 " Man'll goa fer Swoile where gold won't drag 'un ' 
 
 Rolling Falls 
 
 In the Place where no Man Comes .... 
 
 Dog Lake 
 
 The Newfoundland Willow Grouse .... 
 
 . Facing p. 26 
 
 42 
 
 . „ 88 
 
 94 
 234 
 266 
 
 LINE AND HALF-TONE ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 " Newfoundland and its Untrodden Ways " 
 
 " Shadows we are, and Shadows we Pursue " 
 
 Entrance to St. John's Harbour) 
 
 The Harbour from the South J 
 
 Robert Saunders .... 
 
 Little Mike "i 
 
 Jack Wells / 
 
 Rough Places on the Terra-Nova 1 
 
 Hauling Over the Shallows . J 
 
 A Fine Old Pine, St. John's Lake) 
 
 A MiCMAC Wigwam 
 
 Mary March ^ 
 
 Beothick Canoe J 
 
 1 
 
 Title-page 
 Facing p. i 
 
 S 
 
 7 
 
 10 
 
 12 
 16
 
 xu 
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 The First Stag's Head (in Velvet)-i 
 
 A Good Stag / ' 
 
 Harp Seals Assembling on the Ice . 
 Saunders' Waterfall, Terra-Nova River "> 
 Where a Stag has Cleaned his Horns / 
 
 Caribou Swimming 
 
 After a Long Shot 
 
 Canada Geese 
 
 Yellowshanks 
 
 What vou can do if there is a Big Stone, &c. 
 
 L'Allegro 1 
 
 II Penseroso ) 
 
 He Surveys vou with a Look of Intense Disapproval 
 
 Jack Steering his Canoe down a Shallow ^ 
 
 Results of the First Trip . . . j ' 
 
 Sandy Butt and Forty-nine Point Head . 
 
 A Man's Track — They find it ■> 
 
 A Man's Track — About to go / ' 
 
 A Man's Track — Off . . ^ 
 
 A Man's Track — Settling Down j • • • • 
 
 Six Heads Killed on the Gander, September 1903 . 
 
 Preparing Heads ....-» 
 
 Beaver Dam on the Upper Gander j ' ' ' 
 
 Eley Brass Cartridges Chewed by Black Bears ^ 
 
 Sandy Butt at Work / ' 
 
 A Dream of Howley 
 
 Diamond Cut Diamond 
 
 Side View of Forty-four Point Head"> 
 
 The Forty-nine Pointer as he Fell f ' ' ' 
 
 Forty-nine Point Head Shot near Little Gull River 
 
 Stagings on the Cliff . . . ■) 
 
 A Typical Village of the Outports / 
 
 Fresh Cod ■> 
 
 Drying Fish J" • • • • 
 
 Newfoundland Dogs of the Present Day "i 
 
 The Fowls are Furnished, &c. . . . / 
 
 Old Sweethearts ■» 
 
 The Captain about to Fire at a Finback J 
 The Captain of the Whaler "> 
 Dusky Mallard or Black Duck / 
 
 Facing p. 
 
 28 
 
 33 
 
 48 
 
 53 
 60 
 
 65 
 
 69 
 
 71 
 74 
 76 
 
 80 
 
 81 
 96 
 
 lOI 
 
 108 
 
 113 
 119 
 
 122 
 
 128 
 
 13s 
 
 138 
 147 
 
 161
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 xm 
 
 Various VVhalks Spouting Facing p. 
 
 A Shot at a Finback ......... 
 
 A Fighting Humpback „ 
 
 Humpbacks at Plav ......... 
 
 The Dying Flurry of the Blue Whale , 
 
 Harbingers of Winter ,, 
 
 Joe Jeddore ............ 
 
 McGaw Fishing ■> 
 
 Portaging a Canoe J " 
 
 Hauling over a Bad Place on the Baie d'Est -^ 
 
 Working up the Baie d'Est River . . J ' ' " 
 
 "There Goes Four Hundred Dollars!" ■> 
 
 No Dinner To-day . . . . J • • • n 
 
 Mount Cormack, the Centre of Newfoundland i 
 
 Mount Cormack from Pipestone Lake . . J ' ' " 
 
 Reuben Lewis, Head Chief of the Newfoundland Micmacs „ 
 
 Net Otter Trap . "> 
 
 Deadfall for Otter j •••■••• " 
 
 Trap for Lynx . . ^ 
 
 Trap for Fox or Marten / " 
 
 Sunlight in the Forest .| 
 
 Joe making an Otter Trap / " 
 
 The Source of the Gander ■> 
 
 Joe Testing the Wind . J " 
 
 Four Photographs showing Various Methods of Spying ,, 
 
 A Simple Snare for the Varying Hare 
 
 Longhorned Stag Shot by the Author. September 1905 
 
 Gralloching ..... 1 
 
 Camp Scene on the Upper Gander / ' 
 
 Stag's Head with Fine Brow Shovel Shot near 
 
 well's Brook, September 1905 
 Thirty-four Pointer with Irregular Horns Shot near 
 
 Little Gull River, September 1905 
 
 Belleoram 
 
 Belleoram Breakw.\ter and View of the Iron Skull J 
 Newfoundland Micmacs . "i 
 How to Carry a Head to Camp J • • • • 
 MiCMAc Indians Packing with a Load of 120 lbs. . 
 The Midday Sleep on the Lake Edge . "> 
 
 During the Rut the Herd Stag remains, &c J 
 
 MiG 
 
 \ 
 
 165 
 172 
 176 
 193 
 
 '95 
 199 
 
 202 
 
 206 
 
 208 
 
 209 
 
 21 1 
 213 
 220 
 
 222 
 
 224 
 
 225 
 
 227 
 
 • )) 
 
 238 
 
 »> 
 
 240 
 
 )) 
 
 243 
 
 R 
 
 247 
 
 )) 
 
 250 
 
 t) 
 
 259 
 
 • 
 
 270 
 
 J» 
 
 27s 
 
 n 
 
 279
 
 xvi INTRODUCTION 
 
 special privilege of a natural history licence. This has 
 allowed me to make extensive journeys which could not 
 otherwise have been undertaken. My thanks are due to 
 Sir Robert Bond, Mr. W. D. Reid, the Hon. John Harvey, 
 the Hon. Edgar Bowring, and Mr. Henry Blair, and especially 
 to Judge Prowse, who has at all times done everything in 
 his power to further the success of my journeys with maps 
 and information. I am also indebted to Mr. Alfred Gathorne 
 Hardy and Mr. John McGaw for the use of photographs, 
 and to the latter for his able collaboration in the map of 
 Central Newfoundland. 
 
 The centuries roll by, but our primal passions to chase 
 and overcome the beasts of the field are just the same as 
 when Fingal cried, "The desert is enough for me with all 
 its woods and deer." In his mythological creed the Gael 
 believed that the Spirits of the Dead found delight in pur- 
 suing aerial deer over the mountains of the silent land, as 
 well as those of the earth. The poet Ossian, too, says : 
 " The departed children of earth pursue deer formed of 
 clouds, and bend their airy bow. They still love the sport 
 of their youth, and mount the wind with joy." Spiritualists 
 tell us that in the future state we shall continue to lead the 
 lives we have lived here, but with greater joy and wider 
 scope. If this is so, the pleasure of chasing herds of giant 
 megaceros on the astral plane will be no little consolation in 
 the Great Unknown. 
 
 J. G. MILLAIS. 
 
 Horsham, 1907.
 
 "Shadows we are, and Shaliows we Pursue'
 
 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 AND ITS UNTRODDEN WAYS 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 INTO THE TERRA-NOVA COUNTRY 
 
 The Indians say that when Manitou, the Great Spirit, was 
 making the Continent of the New World, he found that he 
 had much material left over in the shape of rocks, swamps, 
 and useless trees. So he formed a big rubbish heap by casting 
 it all into the sea to the north-east, and called it Wee-soc-kadao. 
 Several years after, Cabot discovered and claimed the island 
 for Great Britain, when it was called Newfoundland. 
 
 The world in general knows little of Newfoundland, and 
 the average Englishman imagines it to be a little bit of a 
 place somewhere near the North Pole, which, with two or 
 three other colonies, could be safely stowed away behind the 
 village pump. If he has been to school, he will have learnt 
 that it is our oldest colonial possession, famous for codfish, 
 caribou, and national debts. To him the island is inseparably 
 connected with fogs, dogs, and bogs, just as he imagines 
 Africa to be a "mass of lions mixed with sand." 
 
 Should he wish to be still further enlightened as to its size, 
 he will find that one cannot watch seals in the Straits of Belle 
 Isle and walk down to tea at St. John's on the same day ; in fact, 
 it is one-sixth larger than Ireland, and has an area of 42,000 
 square miles. Moreover, it may be of interest to know that
 
 2 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 the Newfoundlanders are not black or red, but are of a good 
 old English stock, and that they wash themselves twice a day. 
 
 In reality Newfoundland is a most attractive place, with 
 its thousands of lakes and pools ; picturesque streams teeming 
 with salmon, trout, and ouananiche ; great open moors and 
 marshes dotted with the ever restless herds of caribou, A 
 wild sea-coast inhabited by thousands of sea-birds ; dense 
 forests of varied and beautiful trees, all contribute to make the 
 island one of the most delightful of all wild countries to the 
 sportsman and the lover of Nature. 
 
 There is more than a little fascination, too, in knowing 
 that here is land, within seven days of England,^ a great part 
 of whose interior has never been trodden by the white man, 
 even by Government surveyors, and that you can plunge 
 into this beautiful wilderness and feel all the delights of 
 wandering at will through the recesses of an untrodden waste, 
 where deer-stalking — and such deer too! — may be pursued. 
 It is perfect, because you can do it all by yourself, and not 
 trust to your guides for this part of the hunt, as the New- 
 foundlanders, though excellent fellows, are not well versed 
 in the finer points of the art of venery. 
 
 Here in these forests and barrens with their natural 
 sanctuaries the caribou are holding their own — one of the 
 few instances where the purely wild game of Europe and 
 America are not decreasing. 
 
 With the exception of some of the large animals, New- 
 foundland contains much the same fauna as Canada. The 
 
 ' It is hoped that in two years we shall have a fast route from Ireland to Green 
 Bay in three days. Messrs. Ochs have entered into a contract with the Newfoundland 
 Government to build seventeen-knot steamers which are to run every week. The 
 credit of inventing and the carrying through of this important scheme is entirely due 
 to Mr. H. C. Thomson. After many difficulties and much hard work it is satisfaction 
 to his many friends that Mr. Thomson may see his dreams of a quick-transit route 
 realised.
 
 INTO THE TERRA-NOVA COUNTRY 3 
 
 black bear is still to be found there ; wolves are very rare, 
 and lynxes increasing. The principal animal, however, which 
 is of interest to the hunter and naturalist is the woodland 
 caribou [Rangifer tarandus terrcs-novcE), which is still ex- 
 ceedingly abundant in spite of the persecution to which it is 
 subjected. For its size, Newfoundland to-day contains more 
 of these animals than any other part of the world ; and, 
 owing to the nutritive qualities of its super-excellent caribou 
 moss, the deer grow to a great size and in some respects 
 throw out finer horns than any other form of the reindeer 
 in existence, if we except only those of British Columbia, 
 Alaska, and Labrador. 
 
 In the autumn of 1900, my friend, Mr. F. C. Selous, 
 the well-known hunter, being disappointed of what he saw 
 of the annual Howley bombardment,' made an expedition 
 into the centre of the island, more as a sort of preliminary 
 canter for a future visit than in the hope of catching up the 
 migrating caribou, for which he had arrived too late. He 
 was told that no one could get any distance into the interior 
 owing to the difficulty of carrying food, and that he would 
 most certainly get "bogged" before he had gone far. But 
 difficulties of this kind presented no obstacles to a man who 
 has spent his life in overcoming them ; so getting three men 
 who were willing to follow him, he started off from Terra 
 Nova in the middle of November. The tramp was assuredly 
 a hard one, but it was not undertaken in vain. 
 
 He killed one nice stag, and found certain signs in the 
 interior near St. John's Lake that convinced him of the 
 
 ' When the September migration sets in, hundreds of camps are set up near 
 the railway to intercept the deer. The sport, if it may so be called, is dangerous 
 alike to man and beast, but there are many brave men in the island. At least 
 four hundred face death annually at Howley, Patrick's Marsh, and the Gaff Top- 
 sails, and numerous accidents occur.
 
 4 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 existence of a southern herd, whose presence was unsuspected 
 by either sportsman or naturalist, and which never journeyed 
 north in the spring. On this expedition went one Robert 
 Saunders as packer, a thoroughly reliable man, whom he 
 engaged to visit this ground the following autumn, if it were 
 possible to ascend the Terra-Nova River with canoes. So 
 in the September following, Mr. Selous again went to 
 Newfoundland, and after some trouble reached St. John's 
 Lake, where he had excellent sport, killing all his five stags 
 (one of them a splendid forty-two pointer) in one week. He 
 saw but few deer, as the migration out of these east-central 
 forests had only just commenced, but told me he believed 
 that if I could get farther into the country to the west, 
 which was quite unknown, I should probably strike the main 
 trails of a big southern herd. All of this reasoning proved 
 to be quite correct. Mr. Selous kindly engaged Robert 
 Saunders and Jack Wells for me, the two men who had 
 travelled with him, and he spoke of them in the highest 
 terms. Only those who have been a journey or two to 
 distant lands know how important it is to have the very best 
 men in an expedition of this sort ; for there are a hundred 
 occasions where just a little extra determination and just a 
 little hard work are necessary to insure success. 
 
 I arrived at St. John's on August 23, Mr. Reid, of the 
 Newfoundland Railways, came to meet me, and offered me 
 every assistance in his power. Next day Mr. Withers, a 
 friend I had met in the boat coming out, introduced me to 
 Mr. T. Murphy, the President of the Marine and Fisheries 
 Department, and from him I received a permit to collect 
 for scientific purposes such specimens as I required — an un- 
 usual concession on the part of the Government, for which I 
 was most grateful.
 
 Entraxck to St. John's Harbour 
 
 The Harbour from the South
 
 INTO THE TERRA-NOVA COUNTRY 5 
 
 St. John's is a quiet old-world place, something between 
 a Canadian town and a Norwegian fishing village. On one 
 side of the beautiful harbour are endless cod-flakes and a 
 few sealing vessels, and on the other is the main town, built 
 on the side of a steep hill, where electric trams and lights 
 add the one jarring note ; but the whole atmosphere of the 
 place is charming and without noise. They discourage the 
 American spirit there, and the man who wants to hustle 
 soon breaks his heart. Business men stroll down to their 
 offices at ten o'clock, and have always time for a cigar and 
 chat. Life is very much as it was fifty years ago, with the 
 addition of a few innovations which the people have been 
 powerless to prevent. At the summit of the hill are splendid 
 churches, which seem to give a certain tone of distinction to 
 the place, and at the back of these are the houses of the 
 more affluent. Beyond this we find agricultural scenery amidst 
 rolling hills, and still farther, but not too far for a walk, are 
 dense fir woods of peace and beauty. St. John's is really 
 a charming city viewed from a distant spot such as the 
 verandah of Judge Prowse's house, and after several visits 
 I was never tired of this landscape. 
 
 But to return to the city. The main thoroughfare is 
 Water Street, where the traveller can obtain anything within 
 reason. The shops are excellent and up-to-date, and the 
 people extremely kind to strangers, especially when they come 
 from the Old Country. The cabs are a feature of the place, 
 and are drawn by wiry little Canadian horses. When you 
 go up the steep hills you feel you ought to be prosecuted 
 for cruelty to animals, and when you come down you wish 
 you had never been born. You drop from the Cathedral 
 to Water Street in one horrible swoop, scarcely reassured 
 by the optimism of the Placentia Irishman who drives you.
 
 6 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 and who always makes a point of conversing at the most 
 hair-raising corners. " Och ! slip is it ? " he says ; " sure if 
 she was goin' down the sides of hell itself, she'd never put a 
 fut wrong at all, at all. Kim up." In proof of which confi- 
 dence in his steed, Bucephalus is urged to greater exertions. 
 
 If you ask a policeman a simple question, he will not 
 kill you with his club ; and even the tramcars are not run 
 for the express purpose of murdering absent-minded strangers 
 as they are in New York. Life, in fact, is quite safe as long 
 as you keep clear of the accommodation train and "hert 
 pie." I have mentioned " hert pie " as a danger to the 
 traveller, because at every meal you get "hert pie," and it 
 is so horribly good that many helpings are sure to follow in 
 rapid succession, to the ultimate ruin of one's digestion. 
 
 The daily papers are very funny, especially their items of 
 local news, and — it need hardly be mentioned — a deadly 
 enmity exists between the rival editors. Nevertheless they 
 have several men in St. John's who have done and are still 
 doing excellent press and magazine work on subjects relating 
 to the people of Newfoundland, notably Mr. P. T. M'Grath, 
 of the Herald, and Judge Prowse. The articles of these 
 writers are always well-informed and accurate, and abound in 
 the pathos and humour that go to make up the life of the 
 men of the sea. The following items from the St. John's 
 Howler are some specimens of another class of literature 
 that daily meets the eye : — 
 
 LOCAL HAPPENINGS 
 
 Deer were plentiful at Topsail and Quidi-Vidi last week. Ananias 
 P. Slechter of Providence, N.Y., shot a fine 72-pointer, 
 
 Last night the white steam car belonging to Mr. W. D. Speed ran 
 into a New York drummer on Water Street. The car will have to go to 
 Boston for repairs.
 
 Robert Saunders
 
 INTO THE TERRA-NOVA COUNTRY 7 
 
 In future rotten potatoes will not be taken in lieu of monthly subscrip- 
 tions. Cape Spear farmers please note. 
 
 Happiness and woe are ever joined together in this Vale of Tears. 
 With the announcement of his election to the constituency of Dirty Bay 
 comes news of the bankruptcy (for the second time) of our esteemed 
 townsman, Mr. Charles Sculpin. Sculpin has had a chequered career, 
 but now that he has drifted into the harbour of peaceful affluence we 
 trust that he will not forget his many long-suffering creditors. The life 
 of Charles Sculpin may serve as a beacon light to the youth of this 
 island, for, without education or the possession of those advantages 
 which are supposed to conduce to success in life, he has reached a high 
 pinnacle of fame, and now his foot is on the ladder he will not look back. 
 There is some talk of making him Minister of Public Instruction. 
 
 Another example of low thieving from our news column of last night 
 occurs in the pages of the Terra-Nova Express this morning. The 
 incompetent ass who sits in the editorial chair of that dull rag will leap 
 with joy when he learns that the item in question relating to the death of 
 the Czar of Russia was quite untrue, and purposely inserted to expose his 
 infamous pilferings. 
 
 News comes from the Labrador of the safety of the Painter-Glacier 
 expedition which left St. John's on the lOth of this month. After a two 
 days' stay in Battle Harbour, during which time they borrowed several 
 boats and provisions from the missionaries of that place, the gallant 
 explorers are returning in the Virginia Lake, and hope to arrive this 
 evening. Forty-two new lakes, five rivers, and six new mountain ranges 
 were noted and charted, and the members of the expedition speak in 
 high terms of the admirable work achieved by Colonel Painter and Major- 
 General Glacier. Arrangements for a lecture tour in the States are 
 already in progress. 
 
 Miss Clementina Codflakes, who has been visiting friends in town 
 this week, returned to her home at Pushthrough yesterday. 
 
 Despite the universal impressions to the contrary, the editor of this 
 paper is always prepared to accept cash on subscriptions. 
 
 Owing to an unfortunate error, we referred in a recent issue to that 
 admirable vocalist. Miss Birdie St. Hilaire, commonly known as "Sure-
 
 8 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 death Birdie," and now on a visit to the island, as a "bony" warbler, 
 when it was obvious to the meanest intelligence that we meant "bonny." 
 Miss Birdie weighs somewhere about seventeen stone, so she arrived 
 at our office a bit flustered yesterday, and demanded an explanation of 
 our ungallant remarks. We need hardly say that Miss Birdie is far from 
 being " bony," and is a perfect lady in every respect. 
 
 My canoes, bed, boxes of stores, and waterproof sheet 
 were all in readiness, so, leaving St. John's by the "accom- 
 modation " train at four in the evening, I was turned out 
 at Terra-Nova Station in the darkness at five the next 
 morning. 
 
 Close to the line was a wooden building, where a small 
 boy of about eleven met me, rubbing his eyes. He said 
 his name was " Mike," and that he was the stationmaster, 
 his adopted father, one "Tim," being section man of this part 
 of the line. Mike I found was a bit of a character, and I 
 much enjoyed his chatter, and his views on the subject of 
 Newfoundland in particular and life in general. 
 
 " You'd like to see my friends ? " he said. 
 
 "Yes, certainly," I replied, wondering who his friends 
 could be in such an out-of-the-world corner. 
 
 "Well, I'll bring them all ter breakfast with you," he 
 remarked drowsily, folding his arms under the telegraphic 
 instrument and composing himself for a few hours' sleep. Poor 
 child, he wanted it ; up six nights a week, and with a heavy 
 weight of responsibility on his little shoulders, no wonder he 
 was tired. We snatched forty winks when a cheery voice 
 from the door, saying, " Glad ye've come," woke me to see 
 for the first time Bob Saunders and the handsome face of 
 Jack Wells looking over his shoulder. 
 
 It was nearly daylight by the time we had got all our 
 kit down to the river bank, and started the kettle for break-
 
 INTO THE TERRA-NOVA COUNTRY 9 
 
 fast. Then the boxes were broken open, and we soon had 
 an excellent meal in preparation, whilst Jack Wells littered 
 the whole stock of supplies on the bank preparatory to sorting 
 it all carefully in bags for disposition in the two canoes. 
 
 It is necessary, perhaps, to say a word or two about my 
 guides. Robert Saunders is a sturdy little man of about 5 feet 
 6 inches ; his face lined and beard grey, but there was also the 
 unmistakable appearance that showed the man of vigour and 
 energy in spite of its fifty-five years, which were all he would 
 acknowledge. His manner was straightforward and his eyes 
 possessed the honest and sincere look of absolute truth which 
 is always found in the best men accustomed to hardship and 
 the constant strusforle with the forces of Nature. " Little Bob" 
 had led a hard life if any man ever had in Newfoundland. In a 
 country where toil in all weathers is the common lot, his life had 
 been one of exceptional self-sacrifice, and what he had passed 
 through was certainly beginning to tell on him. He had never 
 spared himself, nor considered that he was more than some 
 old pack-horse. Twenty years at the " ice fishing " (seal 
 hunting), and packing and hunting in the woods in winter 
 on wretched food, will try the strongest man when we consider 
 that they are constantly wet through and allow their wet 
 clothes to dry on their bodies. Yet he had survived it all 
 while many of his fellows had fallen on one side, and thanked 
 God daily that He was so good to him in giving him food 
 to eat and a little croft with a good wife down at Alexander 
 Bay. I liked Saunders very much at once, and still more so 
 when I got to know him and his single-hearted efforts to do 
 everything in his power to insure a pleasant time. Of a truth 
 he looked a bit shy at me one evening when I got out my 
 note-book to snatch one of his entertaining stories for future 
 digestion, and I hoped he wouldn't notice it. But after a bit
 
 10 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 he evidently considered this no bar to our conversation round 
 the fire, and rattled away when in the mood. 
 
 Jack Wells, too, was also a good fellow. He had a hand- 
 some, rather melancholy face, with a low, quiet way of talking 
 that was very nice to listen to, and was both amiable and 
 good-natured. I make a special point of this, because four 
 days straight on end barking your shins and slipping off the 
 greasy stones into the Terra-Nova would try the temper of 
 an angel, and not once during those four days did I hear 
 Saunders or Wells swear or complain that the work was beyond 
 their powers, but took the discomfort to be the common lot 
 of man. There is a saying that, to be uncomfortable without 
 being unhappy, you must be either a philosopher or a woman 
 with tight shoes. Yet neither Bob nor Jack were of this 
 category. 
 
 After the detestable fog of St. John's it was a great 
 delight to sit and sip one's tea in the pellucid clearness of an 
 autumn morning, waking to the sun's warmth, " Incalescente 
 sole aperuisset diem," as old Caesar poetically describes the 
 dawn of day. The grey mists were drifting off the river- 
 lake, and showing up the green woods in the distance, 
 when a splendid herring gull came sailing up along the 
 shore and pitched within twenty yards of us. His arrival 
 was the signal for the appearance of the "stationmaster," who 
 with sundry outcries to his various friends was approaching 
 our temporary camp. His "friends," I noticed, were all 
 either four-footed or web-footed, for hurrying at his heels were 
 two dingy-looking mongrels of undeterminable species, a billy 
 and two nanny goats, a sheep, another gull, and far in the 
 rear, endeavouring to keep pace over the logs of an abandoned 
 saw-mill, three adipose ducks. Occasionally "Mike" would 
 stop and call to his strange family in various ways, and they
 
 
 ^m. ! /til / 
 
 
 
 Bt. 
 
 i 
 
 ] 
 
 in 

 
 INTO THE TERRA-NOVA COUNTRY 11 
 
 hurried along according to the peculiar progression of each. 
 It was a strange and pretty sight, and still more so when the 
 herring gull, uttering his familiar " Waw-waw-waw " of his 
 species, rose, flew up to the boy, and, with outstretched 
 wings, ran before him to our fireside. 
 
 " Well, I hope you've brought the entire menagerie, Mike," 
 I said, as we offered to each some acceptable dainty. 
 
 "Oh yes," replied the boy, with a sigh, as he poured him- 
 self out a cup of tea. " They alius go with me everywhere, 
 'cept of course to trains. Trains is bad for birds. Goats and 
 sheep can look after theirselves, but birds get kind of silly 
 when ye pets 'em, Thar was Dan, a big gull like Jack thar 
 (pointing to the grey bird), I had 'im fer three year, and 
 he'd 'most come to bed wi' me, but his wing was cut, as I 
 feared he'd go away altogether. But one day that blamed 
 fool of a no account engine-man, Bill Straw, what can't drive 
 for nuts, run over 'im 'ere in Turnover Station and cut his 
 head off, I wudn't 'a' lost that bird fer ten dollars, an' Bill 
 said he'd get me 'nother gull, but he never done it. Damn 
 him," and little Mike sighed and expectorated reflectively. 
 
 " How do you get the gulls, Mike?" I inquired, 
 
 " Oh, there's plenty come to nest here, summer time, but 
 they're hard to rear. ' Jack ' thar, now, I took when he 
 warn't no bigger than a chicken, and though he goes away 
 winter for a few weeks, he alius comes back in the spring with 
 the old grey and white fellers, I've had 'im three years 
 now, and he's a splendid catch. Here, Jack, catch!" said 
 the little fellow, flinging a piece of bacon rind high into the 
 air. The sharp-eyed gull instantly floated aloft, and caught 
 the piece dexterously as it fell. " Tom now thar," continued 
 my visitor, "he can't fly, as he's kind o' crippled in one wino-, 
 but he's a great runner ; " and to show his skill a piece of
 
 12 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 biscuit was hurled twenty yards away, to be instantly raced for, 
 but Thomas, half running, half flying, proved an easy victor. 
 
 "They're great friends to a feller," said the little man 
 reflectively, adding as an afterthought — " when he ain't at 
 work." 
 
 Poor boy, they were about the only friends he had 
 to talk to in all the comings and goings of the seasons, 
 except when a passing hunter or fisherman came to beg an 
 ounce of tobacco of the old section man. Mike helped us 
 to stow the last of our packages aboard, and, wishing us good 
 luck, we left behind the last trace of civilisation in his lonely 
 little figure meditatively "chucking" rocks for the happy 
 family to retrieve. 
 
 The morning was beautifully fine, with no wind, so we 
 made good time with the canoes pushing along the river- 
 lake for some miles before we emerged into the large Terra- 
 Nova Lake, a fine sheet of water about five miles long and 
 one and a half across. We landed on a shingly beach to 
 readjust some of the stores that were not riding well, and 
 here I saw the fresh track of a small bear, the first sign of 
 the wild game, always an inspiriting sign to every hunter. 
 At the west end of the lake, where the river comes in, we 
 stopped and had dinner, and then on again up a dead stream 
 for another ten miles or so until sunset. In some places I 
 had to land whilst the men dragged the canoes, and here 
 I always found some fairly fresh sign of caribou. By sunset 
 we halted, and the men made a comfortable camp in a " droke " 
 (belt) of spruce close to the water ; and though wet to the 
 waist they did not change their clothes, but lay down soaking 
 as they were, and allowed the fire to steam the water out. 
 Next day it was a case of walking up along the stones of 
 the river bed, while Saunders and Jack dragged the canoes
 
 Rough Places on the Terra-Nova 
 
 Hauling Over the Shallows
 
 INTO THE TERRA-NOVA COUNTRY 18 
 
 through almost continuous rapids the whole day. To prevent 
 the canoes and their contents from being upset the men were 
 constantly in the water hauling and easing the boats, whilst 
 on the slippery rocks they kept frequently slittering and falling 
 up to their middle the whole day. It was coarse work, and 
 of a kind that none save those inured to hardship could 
 stand. " Jest dog's work," was Saunders' definition of the 
 business. 
 
 About midday I sat down by the side of the river to 
 await the coming of the boats. They were close at hand when 
 I heard Saunders shout, and looking up stream saw a fair-sized 
 caribou stag rushing through the shallows about 150 yards 
 away. My rifle lay resting against a bush, and by the time 
 I had seized it the chance was gone. After dinner the river 
 bed became worse and worse, and the men had to spend all 
 their time amongst very bad rocks, whilst in one part I had 
 to take to the forest to get along. Newfoundland forest is 
 not like that of any other country ; it is principally composed 
 of spruce and white pine, with a few larch, var, birch, dogwood, 
 and maple scattered amongst them ; and the trees, though not 
 large, are placed so close together, and interspersed with so 
 many fallen ones, that progress is excessively arduous. I 
 was getting along pretty well when, chancing to stand on the 
 top of a large fallen white pine, the bark suddenly gave way 
 and I was precipitated over a high rock on to the ground. 
 Natural instinct compels one to save one's face with the arm 
 and whatever it holds. Unfortunately in this case the Mann- 
 licher rifle was the interposing object, with the result that 
 the stock snapped clean off close to the action. This was 
 disgusting, to say the least of it, before one had fired a shot. 
 I had no other rifle, and for the moment I doubted my 
 capacity to mend the weapon. Saunders, however, was nothing
 
 14 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 if not a man of resource, and after a protracted search in his 
 voluminous pockets he produced a screw nail about one inch 
 long, and, with the aid of a tailor's needle straightened in the 
 fire, we drilled a hole in the brittle walnut stock and made a 
 very fair mend of the broken weapon. This was lashed with 
 string until we killed a caribou stag, when a piece of raw 
 hide sewn tightly round the narrow part of the stock made 
 things as firm as ever. However, it gave me a lesson, and 
 I shall not travel again without a spare rifle. 
 
 In the evening we reached the beautiful waterfall of the 
 Terra-Nova, where, after a stiff portage straight up the hill 
 and through the forest, we made camp again near the upper 
 river. The early part of the next day was especially hard 
 on the men. The stream was so swift and rocky that the 
 canoes had to be dragged every inch of the way for the two 
 miles that intervened before Ollygo Lake was reached. I, too, 
 had no little difficulty in making way through the forest, for 
 the deep water on the forest edge often forced me to take to 
 the hillside. 
 
 Along this part of the stream I saw many fritillary butter- 
 flies, and at the entrance of Mollygojack Lake there was a fair 
 number of birds. Belted kingfishers, goosanders, red-breast 
 mergansers, Canada geese, and yellow-shank sandpipers were 
 occasionally moved on the river ; whilst on the lakes of 
 Mollygojack and St. John's I noticed a good many dusky ducks 
 (Anas obscurus), the northern form of our mallard. Grebes, 
 probably Sclavonians, interested me also, great northern divers, 
 buzzards, peregrine falcon, merlin, and for the first time the 
 magnificent bald-headed eagle, or bird of Washington, made 
 Its appearance. In the woods we heard the rattle of and 
 occasionally saw the beautiful golden-winged and three-toed 
 woodpeckers, whilst in camp at night the horned eagle-owl
 
 INTO THE TERRA-NOVA COUNTRY 15 
 
 serenaded us with his melancholy hoots. Twice I flushed 
 these big birds in the daytime, and they flopped slowly away 
 as if disturbed out of a siesta. Sometimes as I crept through 
 the wood at dawn something would impel me to look up, and 
 meet a pair of great golden eyes that surveyed the intruder 
 with intense disapproval. The hawk-owl, too, was some- 
 times seen perched on a withered tree, from which point of 
 vantage he searched the ground for voles. As yet we had 
 not met that delightfully cheeky fellow, the Canadian wood 
 jay, moose-bird, or whisky jack, as he is variously named ; 
 but of him more anon. 
 
 Mollygojack Lake is a fine large sheet of water, roughly 
 speaking about twenty miles round, and the surrounding 
 forests are a great summer house of the woodland caribou. It 
 has one or two pretty little islands, where the great northern 
 divers evidently breed (I saw two females with young ones close 
 to them), and it took us till evening to reach the western end 
 where we camped for the night. Here was plenty of fresh 
 sign of caribou, but not too fresh, so we decided not to hunt 
 but to move on next day to St. John's Lake, on which our 
 hopes were centred, at the camp where Selous had killed 
 his deer. 
 
 We made an early start the next day, August 28, up the 
 eight or ten miles of lake-river which separates Mollygojack 
 from St. John's Lake, and which was only difficult for short 
 distances. Our midday dinner was taken on the river about 
 half-way, when shortly after re-starting I saw something move 
 behind a large rock on the left bank about 300 yards 
 up stream. In another moment the head of a doe caribou 
 appeared and again disappeared, so we rushed the canoe 
 under the shelter of a projecting headland, and I landed. After 
 leaving Saunders and signalling to Jack to keep out of sight,
 
 16 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 I crawled up along the stones, and immediately saw the doe 
 standing in nearly the same spot. She was still 250 yards 
 away, so to make sure of our meat I took advantage of 
 another miniature headland, and crawled on to make a closer 
 acquaintance. There was little cover, but the caribou took no 
 precautions for her safety, and allowed me to come within 
 80 yards without once raising her head for observation. A 
 nice rock to shoot from presented itself at this corner, so, 
 pressing the trigger, I had the satisfaction of seeing the deer 
 drop dead in her tracks. On a fresh trip, with new men, it 
 is always a satisfactory thing to kill the first animal at which 
 you fire, as it gives confidence to your followers and creates 
 a favourable impression, so I took as much care over the 
 easy shot at that wretched doe as if I was firing at a fifty- 
 pointer. 
 
 We had some fresh meat now, and after photographing the 
 animal we cut it up, and then paddled away in high spirits for 
 St. John's Lake, which we reached about five o'clock. We 
 had made good progress, but desired to complete the whole 
 distance to the end of the lake before nightfall, so pressed on. 
 On the way up the lake we passed four more doe caribou 
 gazing into the water, like some others of their sex, apparently 
 lost in admiration of their loveliness as reflected by Nature's 
 mirror. One old lady allowed us to go by within 15 yards, 
 and seemed in nowise upset at our presence, as she had not 
 got our wind. At last our temporary Ultima Thule hove in 
 sight, the river mouth at the west end, and I immediately 
 recognised the Indians' observation tree, which Selous had told 
 me to look out for — a gnarled and bent old white pine, standing 
 out in picturesque solitude from the forest of spruce. As we 
 moved up to the landing-place a caribou doe was wading in 
 the shallows about 300 yards away. She swam slowly across
 
 A FiNii Old Pine, St. John's Lake 
 
 A MiCMAC WlUWA.M
 
 INTO THE TERRA-NOVA COUNTRY 17 
 
 the glassy river, and, after shaking herself like a great dog, 
 wandered up into the timber right past the very spot where 
 we were to make our home for a week. 
 
 There is little doubt that a family party of Micmacs came 
 annually to this corner of the lake, and trapped during the 
 winter. Next morning Saunders and I, poking about in the 
 forest close at hand, came on their house, which had been 
 used during the past season. It was a carefully constructed 
 "tepee" of spruce poles, beautifully lined inside with birch 
 bark and quite impervious to rain or snow. We saw here, 
 too, a large hollowed pine which had been cut out for a 
 trough, in which tanning had been made for curing caribou 
 skins. Those skins had been then sewn together, and used 
 as a covering for a canoe. Saunders assumed that these 
 were some of the regular hunting Indians, which come all 
 the way from the south coast in the late fall. 
 
 Later on in this work I give an account of the Micmacs, 
 but a word or two about their predecessors may not be 
 out of place. Recorded history enables us to go back as 
 far only as the first appearance of European explorers, who 
 visited the island about four hundred years ago. The " Red 
 Indians," or Beothicks, were then the occupants of the soil, 
 and they were said to resemble in every respect the indigenous 
 tribes of North America, and were probably of the same stock 
 as the Algonquins. 
 
 The Beothicks had straight black hair, high cheek bones, 
 small black eyes, and a copper-coloured skin. In hunting 
 and fishing modes they also resembled the natives of the 
 neighbouring continent, and their weapons, wigwams, and 
 domestic utensils were also similar. Ethnologists are not 
 quite agreed as to the nature of their language, but it is 
 generally accepted that they were probably a small branch
 
 18 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 of the warlike Algonquins, who at that time were the masters 
 of the north-eastern continent of Canada. 
 
 Cabot landed on Newfoundland in 1497, and found the 
 Beothicks a numerous and powerful race. Having practically 
 no enemies, and being naturally ingenious and gentle mannered, 
 he found them extremely friendly and anxious to show the 
 white voyagers any hospitality. The rivers and seas of the 
 country at that time swarmed with fish, and through the 
 forests and barrens the countless herds of caribou roamed 
 in comparative security. Consequently the Indians practised 
 no agriculture, but lived a life of, to an Indian, great luxury, 
 without the necessity of any form of toil. But after a short 
 few years of peace the same old story was repeated here, as 
 everywhere in the world, where the white man comes and 
 wishes to make the country all his own. Quarrels arose 
 between the whites and the reds, followed by the usual 
 deeds of violence, and a bitter enmity that could only end 
 in the ultimate extermination of one race or the other. As 
 usual, too, the white man, with his superior brains and superior 
 weapons of destruction, had the best of it. Yet the Beothicks 
 held out through some three hundred years, during which 
 time they were often treated with the greatest brutality, which 
 was as frequently returned with equal savagery. 
 
 When the white men had at length exterminated two- 
 thirds of the Indians, they became filled with a commendable 
 spirit of conciliation, and from 1760 to 1823 many attempts 
 were made to live on friendly terms with the men of the 
 woods. But it was too late. Experience had taught them 
 to hate the white man with a deadly hatred, and they now, 
 after centuries of war, found it impossible to accept any 
 advances of kindness. Broken and in despair the last of 
 the Beothicks retreated to the shores of Red Indian Lake,
 
 INTO THE TERRA-NOVA COUNTRY 19 
 
 where they perished slowly one by one till not a single 
 member was left. 
 
 It is necessary to say a few words concerning the first 
 writer upon the Beothicks. Captain Richard Whitbourne, of 
 Exmouth, after having served as captain of his own ship 
 against the Spanish Armada in 1588, made many voyages 
 to Newfoundland for the purpose of fishing and establishing 
 colonies there. He made his first voyage to that country 
 in 1582, with the intention of trading with "the savage 
 people" and killing whales. He says of it: "But this our 
 intended Voyage was overthrown by the indiscretion of our 
 captaine, and faint-heartedness of some Gentlemen of our 
 Company. Whereupon we set sail from thence and bare 
 into Trinity Harbour in Newfoundland : where we killed 
 great store of Fish, Deere, Beares, Beavers, Scales, Otters, 
 and such like, with abundance of sea-fowle : and so returning 
 for England, we arrived safe at Southampton." ^ 
 
 On his second voyage in 1586 the gallant Captain had 
 the command of a "worthy shipp, set forth by one Master 
 Crooke of Southampton." He witnessed the taking posses- 
 sion of Newfoundland by Sir Humphrey Gilbert in the name 
 of Queen Elizabeth. After this he made many interesting 
 voyages to Newfoundland. One of the most striking passages 
 in his book relates to his meeting and detention by the famous 
 arch-pirate, Peter Easton, " whom I did persuade much to 
 desist from his evil course." It is interesting to note that 
 in 1608 one of Captain Whitbourne's ships was intercepted 
 
 ' " A Discourse and Discovery of Newfoundland, with many reasons to prove 
 how worthy and beneficiall a Plantation may be there made, after a far better 
 manner than now it is— together with the laying open of certaine enormities and 
 abuses committed by some that trade to that countrey, and the means laid down 
 for reformation thereof." By Capt. Richard Whitbourne of Exmouth in the county 
 of Devon. London, 1622. Republished in 1870 at Guildford by Mr. Thomas 
 Whitbourne under the title of" Westward Hoe for the New-found-land."
 
 20 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 by an " English erring Captaine (that went forth with Sir 
 Walter Rawleigh)." The distinction between "an arch- 
 pirate" and "an English erring Captaine" does not seem to 
 be very clear. 
 
 Another point in this quaint book which he wrote upon 
 his travels is of great interest to naturalists, for it refers to 
 the Great Auk {A ice impennis), now, alas, extinct, but which 
 formerly existed in great numbers on Funk Island, off the 
 north-east coast of Newfoundland. These birds were always 
 known as "Penguins" by the inhabitants, and I once met 
 an old fisherman whose father possessed a stuffed specimen. 
 He himself used to ride on the back of the bird as a little 
 boy, little knowing that within his lifetime such things 
 would be worth four and five hundred pounds. 
 
 "These penguins," says Captain Whitbourne, "are as 
 bigge as geese, and flye not, for they have but a little short 
 wing, and they multiply so infinitely upon a certaine flat 
 island, that men drive them from thence upon a boord, into 
 their boats by hundreds at a time : as if God had made the 
 innocency of so poore a creature to become such an admirable 
 instrument for the sustenation of man." 
 
 He thus describes the Beothicks and their habits : — 
 
 " For it is well knowne, that they are a very ingenious 
 and subtill kinde of people so likewise are they tractable as 
 hath beene well approved, when they have beene gently and 
 politically dealt withal : also they are a people that will seek 
 to revenge any wrongs done unto them or their woolves, as 
 hath often appeared. For they marke their woolves in the 
 eares with several markes, as is used here in England on 
 sheepe, and other beasts, which hath been likewise approved : 
 for the woolves in those parts are not so violent and devouring 
 as woolves are in other countries. For no man that I ever
 
 Mary March 
 
 Beothick Caxoe 
 
 [From the Model in the Ediuhui-^h Museum)
 
 INTO THE TERRA-NOVA COUNTRY 21 
 
 heard of, could say that any woolfe, leopard,^ beare or any 
 other beasts did ever set upon any man or boy in the New- 
 found-land, although divers times some men have been by 
 themselves in the woods, when they have suddenly come 
 near unto them and those Beasts have presently upon sight 
 of any Christian speedily run from them." 
 
 This close association of a friendly character between dogs 
 and wolves has long been known in Newfoundland, where 
 amongst early writers it seems to have been a matter of 
 surprise. Writing in 1622, Captain Whitbourne says that 
 the wolves frequently came down to the seashore when his 
 men were labouring amongst the fish, and that on each occasion 
 his mastiff dog ran to them. " The one began to fawne and 
 play with the other, and so went together into the Woods, 
 and continued with them, every of these times, nine or ten 
 dayes and did return unto us without any hurt. Hereof I 
 am in no way superstitious, yet is something strange to me 
 that the wild beasts, being followed by a sterne Mastiff-dogge, 
 should grow to familiaritie with him, seeing their natures are 
 repugnant : surely much rather the people by our discreet 
 and gentle usage, may bee brought to society being already 
 naturally inclined thereunto." 
 
 Later he gives some particulars of utensils, weapons, 
 canoes, &c., used by the Indians : — 
 
 " For it is well Knowne, that the Natives of those parts 
 have great store of red Okar, wherewith they use to colour 
 their bodies, Bowes, Arrowes and Cannowes, in a painting 
 manner : which cannowes are their Boats, that they use to 
 go to Sea in, which are built in shape like the Wherries on 
 the River of Thames, with small timbers, no thicker nor 
 
 ' This plainly refers to the existence of the Canada lynx {Lynx Canadensis) 
 in the island at this date.
 
 22 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 broader than hoopes : and instead boords, they use the barkes 
 of Birch trees, which they sew very artificially and close to- 
 gether, and then overlay the seams with Turpentine, as Pitch 
 is used on the Seams of Ships and Boats. And in like 
 manner they use to sew the barkes of Spruise and Firre 
 trees, round and deepe in proportion like a Brasse kettle, 
 to boyle their meat in, as it hath been well approved by 
 divers men : but most especially to my certaine knowledge, 
 by three Mariners of a Ship of Tapson, in the county of 
 Devon : which Ship riding there at anchor neere by mee, at 
 the Harbour called Heartsease, on the North side of Trinity 
 Bay, and being robbed in the night, by the Savages, of their 
 apparell, and divers other provisions, did the next day seeke 
 after them, and happen to come suddenly where they had 
 set up three Tents, and were feasting, having three such 
 Cannowes by them, and three pots made of such rinds of 
 trees, standing each of them on three stones boyljng, with 
 twelve Fowles in each of them, every Fowl as big as a 
 widgeon, and some so big as a Ducke : they had also many 
 such pots, so sewed and fashioned like leather Buckets, that 
 are used for quenching of fire, and those were full of the 
 yolkes of Egges, that they had taken and boyled hard, and 
 so dryed small as it had been powder Sugar, which the 
 Savages used in their Broth, as sugar is often used in 
 some meates. They had great store of the skins of Deers, 
 Beavers, Beares, Seales, Otters, and divers other fine skins, 
 which were excellent well dressed : as also great store of 
 several sorts of flesh dryed, and by shooting off a Musket 
 towards them, they all ran away naked, without any apparell, 
 but onely some of them had their hats on their heads which 
 were made of seale skinnes, in fashion like our hats, sewed 
 handsomely, with narrow bands about them set round with
 
 INTO THE TERRA-NOVA COUNTRY 23 
 
 fine white shells. All their three Cannowes, their flesh, skins, 
 yolkes of Egges, Targets, Bowes and Arrowes, and much 
 fine Okar, and divers other things they tooke and brought 
 away and shared it amongst those that tooke it, and they 
 brought to me the best Cannowe. . . ." 
 
 Captain Whitbourne tells us that in 1622 the distribution 
 of the Beothicks was over the north-west parts of the island, 
 and on the east side as far south as Trinity Bay. Two 
 hundred years later when Cormack wrote, the Indians had 
 retired altogether from White Bay, Green Bay, and the east 
 coast, but were still in the north and central parts. 
 
 Whitbourne states that in his time the ships did not fish 
 in Trinity Bay, partly on account of the rocky ledges, but 
 chiefly because "the savage people of that Countrey doe there 
 inhabit : many of them secretly every year, come into Trinity 
 Bay and Harbour, in the night-time, purposely to steal Sailes, 
 Lines, Hatchets, Hooks, Knives and suchlike." 
 
 On page 2 Whitbourne says: "The naturall Inhabitants 
 of the Countrey, as they are but few in number : so are they 
 something rude and savage people : having neither knowledge 
 of God, nor living under any kinde of civill government. In 
 their habits customes and manners they resemble the Indians 
 of the Continent, from whence (I suppose) they come : they 
 live altogether in the North and West part of the Country, 
 which is seldome frequented by the English : but the French 
 and Biscaines (who resort thither yearly for the Whale fishing, 
 and also for the cod fish) report them to be an ingenious and 
 tractable people (being well used) they are ready to assist 
 them with great labour and patience, in the killing, cutting 
 and boyling of Whales and making the traine oyle, without 
 expectation of other reward, than a little bread, or some such 
 small hire."
 
 24 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 Later Lieutenant John Cartwright, a brother of the famous 
 Captain Cartwright of Labrador, was sent on an expedition 
 up the Exploits River in 1768, and obtained a little infor- 
 mation of the habits of the Red Indians.' Soon after this 
 Captain Buchan went twice up the Exploits to Red Indian 
 Lake, and on the first occasion had two of his marines 
 killed. 
 
 In the winter of 18 10 Captain Buchan forced an interview 
 with the Beothicks on Red Indian Lake. Hostages were 
 exchanged, but on the Captain retiring to bring up some 
 presents which he had left at a depot, the Indians became 
 suspicious, fearing he had gone to obtain reinforcements with 
 which to surround and capture them. In consequence they 
 murdered the two white men that had remained in their hands 
 and retired into the interior. Captain Buchan was mystified 
 to find that the Indians had departed on his return, and the 
 whole story was not made clear until 1828, when the particulars 
 were explained by Shawnawdithit. 
 
 In the year 1828 there was a society in St. John's known 
 as the Beothick Institution, whose business it was to com- 
 municate with and if possible civilise the Red Indians, as 
 well as to ascertain the habits and history of that "unhappy 
 race of people." The President was W. E. Cormack, who 
 took a kindly interest in the fate of the Indians, and who 
 became so interested in them that he undertook a journey 
 to Red Indian Lake for the purpose of establishing com- 
 munication with the Red men. On October 31, 1828, he 
 entered the country at the north of the Exploits in company 
 with three Indians — an Abenakie from Canada, a mountaineer 
 from Labrador, and a Micmac from the south coast of New- 
 foundland. He took a north-westerly route to Hall's Bay, 
 
 1 Report of the Beothicks, MS. by Lieutenant J. Cartwright, 1768.
 
 INTO THE TERRA-NOVA COUNTRY 25 
 
 which he reached in eight days, passing the country interior 
 from New Bay, Badger Bay, and Seal Bay, a district well 
 known as the summer resort of the Indians. On the fourth 
 day he found traces of the savages in the shape of canoe- 
 rests, spear-shafts, and rinded " vars," — " This people using 
 the inner part of the bark of that kind of tree for food." 
 On the lakes near New Bay were the remains of winter 
 mamateeks or wigwams, each intended to hold from six to 
 twenty people. Close to these were oblong pits about four 
 feet deep, designed to preserve stores, &c., some of them 
 being lined with birch rind. In his report^ Cormack mentions 
 the peculiar vapour baths of which he also found traces at 
 this place, and whose use was afterwards explained to him 
 by Shawnawdithit. "The method used by the Beothicks to 
 raise the steam, was by pouring water on large stones made 
 very hot for the purpose, in the open air, by burning a 
 quantity of wood around them ; after this process, the ashes 
 were removed, and a hemispherical framework, closely covered 
 with skins to exclude the external air, was fixed over the 
 stones. The patient then crept in under the skins, taking 
 with him a birch-rind bucket of water, and a small bark 
 dish to dip it out, which, by pouring on the stones, enabled 
 him to raise the steam at pleasure." Shawnawdithit ex- 
 plained that the steam bath was only used by old and 
 rheumatic people. 
 
 After traversing the country on the high lands south of 
 White Bay without finding further traces of the Indians, 
 whom he had expected to encounter near the passes of the 
 deer now in full migration, Cormack travelled to Red Indian 
 
 ' Report of W. E. Cormack's Journey in Search of the Red Indians in New- 
 foundland. Read before the Beothick Institution at St. John's, Newfoundland. 
 Communicated by Mr. Cormack, Edinburgh. New Phil. Journ., vol. xx., 1828-29, 
 pp. 318-329-
 
 26 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 Lake, but to his great disappointment, he found it had been 
 deserted for some years by the Indians, "after being tor- 
 mented by Europeans for the last eighteen years." After 
 further search on the Exploits River, Cormack returned to 
 the north on November 29 w^ithout having seen a single 
 Red Indian. Amongst other interesting relics of these people 
 which Cormack presented to the Beothick Institution was a 
 vocabulary of the Beothick language, consisting of two hundred 
 to three hundred words. This was supposed to have been 
 given by Cormack to a Dr. Yates, but I have failed to trace 
 the list, or the descendants of the recipient, which would go 
 far to prove "the Beothicks to be a distinct tribe from any 
 hitherto discovered in North America." 
 
 During his stay at Red Indian Lake, Cormack found many 
 recent traces of the Beothicks which show their modes of life, 
 treatment of the dead, methods of hunting deer, &c. 
 
 " One difference," he says, " between the Beothick wig- 
 wams and those of other Indians is, that in most of the former 
 there are small hollows, like nests, dug in the earth around the 
 fire-place, one for each person to sit in. These hollows are 
 generally so close together, and also so close to the fire-place 
 and to the sides of the wigwam, that I think it probable these 
 people have been accustomed to sleep in a sitting position." 
 He also found a large handsome birch-rind canoe, about 
 22 feet in length, comparatively new.^ In its construction 
 iron nails had been used, doubtless stolen from the white 
 settlers. 
 
 John Hinx, a half-breed Micmac, who was present when 
 
 ' I am enabled to give a photograph of the model of this curiously shaped canoe 
 by the courtesy of the Director of the Royal Scottish Museum, Edinburgh. In form 
 it is quite unlike the birch-bark canoes used by the Canadian tribes, being high raised 
 at the bow and stern. The interior has sheets of birch rind. The exterior is of deal 
 planking.
 
 D 
 O 
 
 m 
 
 5 i 
 < = 
 
 Q - 
 
 % I 
 
 § i 
 
 2
 
 INTO THE TERRA-NOVA COUNTRY 27 
 
 several of the old wigwam sites were unearthed, has told 
 me that the floors of these abodes were sunk a foot or two 
 beneath the ground, which was polished smooth and had 
 turf seats. On this floor the family slept and kept their 
 fire alight, one member always being deputed to keep watch. 
 The lower part of the skin covering was raised from the 
 ground, and all vegetation removed for a considerable distance, 
 so that in case of surprise the Indians could bend low with- 
 out fear of being seen or shot, and send a flight of arrows 
 at any invader. 
 
 Their cleverness is shown by the way in which they 
 constructed their retreat. A tunnel, sometimes 30 and 40 
 yards long, was burrowed from the wigwam into the woods, 
 and by this means the Indians retired when the fight went 
 against them. They used pots of iron and a few other 
 simple utensils. 
 
 "Their wooden repositories for the dead," says Cormack, 
 " are what are in the most perfect state of preservation. These 
 are of different constructions, it would appear, according to 
 the character or rank of the persons entombed. In one of 
 them, which resembled a hut 10 feet by 8 or 9, and 4 or 
 5 feet high in the centre, floored with squared poles, the 
 roof covered with rinds of trees, and in every way well 
 seasoned against the weather inside, and the intrusion of 
 wild beasts, there were two grown persons laid out at full 
 length on the floor, the bodies wrapped round with deer- 
 skins. One of these bodies appeared to have been placed 
 here not longer ago than five or six years." 
 
 Cormack's most surprising discovery in one of these 
 dead-houses was "a white deal affair, containing a skeleton 
 neatly shrouded in white muslin. After a long pause of con- 
 jecture how such a thing existed here, the idea of Mary
 
 28 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 March'^ occurred to one of the party, and the whole mystery 
 was at once explained." 
 
 In the cemetery were deposited alongside the bodies two 
 small wooden images of a man and a woman, doubtless meant 
 to represent husband and wife, also a small doll, a pathetic 
 emblem of Mary March's child which died two days* after 
 the capture of its mother ; several small models of canoes, 
 two small models of boats, an iron axe, a bow and quiver 
 of arrows, birch-rind cooking utensils, and two fire-stones 
 (radiated iron pyrites), from which the Beothicks produced 
 fire by striking them together. 
 
 Another mode of sepulture described by Cormack was 
 for the body of the deceased to be wrapped in birch rind, 
 with his property placed on a sort of scaffold about 4J 
 feet from the ground, in a manner still employed by 
 some of the Western American tribes. A third method 
 was to bend the body together and enclose it in a kind 
 of box laid on the ground, and a fourth to simply wrap 
 
 > Mary March, so called from the name of the month in which she was taken, 
 was a Red Indian woman who was captured at Mary March's Broolc, near Red 
 Indian Lake, by an armed party of Newfoundlanders in March 1809. This was the 
 immediate result of the Government's offer of a reward to any persons who would 
 bring a Red Indian to them. Her husband was cruelly shot, "after nobly making 
 several attempts, single-handed, to rescue her from the captors, in defiance of their 
 fire-arms and fixed bayonets." The body of this red hero was found by Cormack 
 resting beside his wife in one of the cemeteries at Red Indian Lake. The following 
 winter, Captain Buchan was sent to the River Exploits, by order of the local govern- 
 ment of Newfoundland, to take back this woman to the lake where she was 
 captured, and if possible at the same time, to open friendly intercourse with her 
 tribe. But she died on board Captain Buchan's vessel at the mouth of the river. 
 Captain Buchan, however, took her body to the lake, and not meeting with any of 
 her people, left it where they were afterwards most likely to meet with it. It appears 
 the Indians were this winter encamped on the banks of the River Exploits, and 
 observed Captain Buchan's party passing up the river on the ice. They retired from 
 their encampment in consequence, and some weeks afterwards went by a circuitous 
 route to the lake to ascertain what the party had been doing there. They found 
 Mary March's body, and removed it from where Captain Buchan had left it to where 
 it now lies, by the side of her husband.
 
 The First Stag's Head (in Velvet) 
 
 A Good Stag
 
 INTO THE TERRA-NOVA COUNTRY 29 
 
 the body in birch rind and cover it with a heap of 
 stones. 
 
 Cormack thus describes the long deer fences made by 
 the Beothicks, and their method of killing the caribou : 
 " On the north side of the lake, opposite the River Exploits, 
 are the extremities of two deer fences, about half a mile 
 apart, where they lead to the water. It is understood that 
 they diverge many miles in north-westerly directions. The 
 Red Indians make these fences to lead and scare the deer 
 to the lake, during the periodical migration of these animals ; 
 the Indians being stationed looking out, when the deer get 
 into the water to swim across, the lake being narrow at this 
 end, they attack and kill the animals with spears out of their 
 canoes. In this way they secure their winter provisions 
 before the severity of that season sets in. . . . What arrests 
 the attention most, while gliding down the stream (the 
 Exploits), is the extent of the Indian fences to entrap the 
 deer. They extend from the lake downwards, continuous 
 on the banks of the river, at least thirty miles. There are 
 openings left here and there in them, for the animals to go 
 through and swim across the river, and at these places the 
 Indians are stationed, and kill them in the water with spears, 
 out of their canoes, as at the lake. Here, then, connecting 
 these fences with those on the north-west side of the lake, 
 is at least forty miles of country, easterly and westerly, 
 prepared to intercept the deer that pass that way in their 
 periodical migrations. It was melancholy to contemplate the 
 gigantic, yet feeble, efforts of a whole primitive nation, in their 
 anxiety to provide subsistence, forsaken and going to decay." 
 
 A Red Indian woman, named Shawnawdithit,' was living 
 near the Exploits River with some white people at this 
 
 ' Sometimes called Shandithit.
 
 80 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 time, and through the interest of the Beothick Institution she 
 was sent to St. John's. 
 
 Cormack kept this woman in his house all the winter of 
 1828, eliciting information from her and making notes, which 
 have most unfortunately been lost. After leaving Cormack's 
 house, Shawnawdithit went to reside with a merchant at Twillin- 
 gate, where she lived for a few years. She never became a 
 Christian, and at her death was buried in a log hut on the 
 banks of the Exploits, where the woodpeckers and the passing 
 deer are the only visitors. A portrait, albeit a very poor 
 one, was taken of Mary March by Lady Hamilton, and is of 
 interest as the only representation of a Beothick in existence. 
 I am enabled to give it by the kindness of Mr. Albert 
 Bradshaw.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 CARIBOU HUNTING NEAR LAKE ST. JOHN 
 
 With such excellent sign of deer on all sides we made sure 
 that it would not be long before we saw our first stag, but 
 in this we were woefully disappointed. We stayed a week in 
 Selous' camp, tramping miles every day up the river, through 
 the forest, and on to the high ground, without seeing a single 
 stag, and only one fresh track of a big fellow, and of him, I 
 believe, I just caught a glimpse as he disappeared into a dense 
 alder bed. Soon I became weary of thrashing around in this 
 forest-bound country, and sighed for a place where I could 
 wander about in the open and look for things with my tele- 
 scope. Far to the north-west I could see with the glass an 
 inviting-looking country where the white men had never been — 
 so Saunders said, and Saunders had penetrated farther than 
 any one in the swampy regions. So we decided to move on, 
 as my guide said we could easily cut a road with the axe up 
 to the high ground, and that we should be nearly sure in 
 time to strike the main leads of the caribou that were known 
 to journey south-west from the eastern forests. It sounded 
 inviting, so we left the next morning, September 4, and 
 paddled to the northern corner, where a brook came in, A 
 disposition of the stores was soon made, and we started, 
 carrying bed, waterproof sheet, and food for three days. This 
 was enough for the present, for if things looked well Jack 
 could keep coming back to the lake to fetch whatever we 
 wanted. Saunders went in front with his axe and cut a path 
 
 31
 
 32 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 for us to follow, but as we advanced to the higher ground 
 this became unnecessary owing to the presence of heavily 
 indented caribou leads, which got broader and more numerous 
 as we proceeded. Near the upper edge of the forest the 
 deer roads were so numerous and had been so well used 
 for years past that Saunders was in the highest spirits, for 
 these, he said, must be the main trails of which he had sus- 
 pected the existence somewhere in the neighbourhood. About 
 midday we emerged on to beautiful undulating high ground 
 covered with blueberries and a short bush called locally 
 "goudie." We had hardly done so when four caribou 
 does came to look at us. A little farther on, two others 
 came for a close inspection, and though we now wanted 
 meat badly (having eaten the best part of the doe I had 
 previously killed), I resisted the temptation to fire, as I 
 hoped to see a stag very soon. 
 
 Everything now looked so promising that I sent Jack 
 back to the boats to get more supplies, having determined 
 to make a standing camp here. Even if I waited a month, 
 I knew the stags were bound to come this way sooner or 
 later. 
 
 After a hurried meal, Saunders and I set off to find the 
 highest point above our camp, and soon selected a large 
 stone from whence a splendid view could be obtained for 
 three or four miles in any direction. Many of the main 
 trails led up from the woods below, and anything moving 
 out must be detected. Nor was there long to wait. Almost 
 as soon as I had got the glass out I spotted a doe and a 
 calf walking uphill, then another snow-white object on the 
 edge of the woods revealed another female, and a few minutes 
 later two more were to be seen moving slowly uphill about 
 a mile to the left. The glass was here of the greatest
 
 i\ 
 
 u 
 
 Jl-
 
 CARIBOU HUNTING 83 
 
 assistance, for I counted no less than fifteen doe caribou 
 coming out of the woods before my companion had seen 
 one. The migration of the females had evidently just com- 
 menced, for they all passed uphill to the west, and then as 
 I afterwards found, swung away to the south-west. 
 
 It was growing late, but was one of those perfect 
 autumn evenings that tempt a man just to sit and enjoy 
 the play of light and shade on distant hill and forest. 
 Saunders talked away of his seal-hunting days, and I was 
 quite happy enjoying the landscape, working the glass or 
 watching the gaggles of Canadian geese that frequently 
 passed us, for this country was evidently a great breeding- 
 ground. In a little while it would be too dark to see, and 
 there really seemed no chance of a stag showing up. It 
 was too warm, and they were all up by this time in the 
 forests, munching the moss that grows so luxuriantly within 
 a few yards of their now well-worn beds. 
 
 " A' don't believe there's a blessed stag outside the woods 
 in Newfun'lan'," said Saunders, yawning as he lay on his 
 back chewing blueberries and, as he expressed it, " tired o' 
 lookin'." 
 
 " Well," I replied, " I believe there's one anyhow. Bob," 
 for at that moment I had caught in the glass the white 
 stern of a deer feeding about a mile below in a little marsh. 
 A small bit of horn stuck out at one side, though his head 
 seemed half-hidden in a peat-hole. I kept the glass fixed, 
 and in a minute he turned sideways and revealed the form 
 and antlers of a caribou stag, and a big one too. At last ! 
 There he was, feeding right in the open and the wind 
 perfect. Just the sight every hunter longs for ! Leaving 
 Saunders with the glass to watch events, I hurried down the 
 hill and easily kept out of sight even in a stooping position
 
 84 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 till within 400 yards of the beast. A momentary glimpse 
 showed him to be still feeding, so I went on slowly in a 
 crouching attitude till within 300 yards. Here I found it 
 necessary to crawl for about 200 yards, and getting a large 
 rock between myself and the deer found on peeping round 
 the edge of a stone that I was within 90 yards. There 
 was evidently no hurry, so I sat down and enjoyed my first 
 view of one of the grandest beasts in existence feeding 
 unconcernedly at a short distance. 
 
 During five minutes he only once raised his head, and 
 then only to take a stupid and sleepy survey of his sur- 
 roundings as the wet moss dropped out of the sides of his 
 mouth. How splendid his long shovels and bays looked 
 as he assumed a dignified attitude against the yellow sunset ! 
 But I could not leave him longer as the light was going 
 fast, so getting a good sitting position against the rock, I 
 put the white foresight on his heart and fired. Looking up, 
 to my surprise I saw that the stag had never moved except 
 to raise his head, and thinking that I must have missed, I 
 fired again at once and saw four great feet kicking in the air. 
 
 He was dead as soon as I got up. Certainly not one of 
 the best, but nevertheless as I afterwards learned, he carried 
 a good head. The horns were still in the velvet, and the 
 beast had evidently just come out for a quiet snack in an 
 undisturbed place. He gave me the idea of an old animal 
 going back slightly, as his tops were not up to the mark. 
 
 The usual rejoicings over the first trophy may be passed 
 over, and seeing that the does (which always move a good 
 fortnight before the stags) were only just beginning to travel, 
 I knew it would not do to be too sanguine about getting 
 another stag for some time. We were in for a long wait, 
 especially as the glorious weather which we had experienced
 
 CARIBOU HUNTING 35 
 
 so far showed no signs of breaking. Every morning the sun 
 rose in a cloudless sky, and every evening set in an ocean 
 of flame. There had been a wet summer, so we were ex- 
 periencing the consequent reaction. Saunders, who had never 
 seen the like before, was nevertheless full of explanations and 
 prognostications. Every evening he would minutely explain 
 the particular position of certain clouds, and how they always 
 foretold rain or snow in Newfoundland, but when the morning 
 came and the sky was as brilliant as usual, he would be silent 
 on the subject. Evening, however, always gave him renewed 
 hope, and he would begin to prophesy again. For three 
 weeks, during which Saunders repeatedly declared that he 
 would die of sunstroke if the "tropical" heat continued, there 
 was not a drop of rain, and Newfoundland experienced the 
 driest season on record. About this time Saunders ceased 
 being a weather-prophet and became somewhat sad. " Never 
 before," said he, "were such things known. To come so far 
 and see so few stags ! " And I could see that his anxiety 
 was chiefly because he feared I should be disappointed and 
 wish to turn home. Nothing, however, was further from my 
 thoughts. We had plenty of provisions, and I knew that as 
 soon as the weather broke we should get stags. 
 
 " ' I'm clean off my bearings,' as the ' Banks ' captain 
 said one day in a fog ; ' accordin' to my kalkilations, we're 
 fifty miles inside the Labrador woods,' and that's about the 
 size of it jes' now," said my companion one day, as we seated 
 ourselves after a fruitless tramp. " Sech a sight of deer and 
 nar' a stag." 
 
 For four days we wandered over the high rocky barrens 
 and "open" timber, hoping to meet a travelling stag. We 
 made from ten to fifteen miles a day over fairly easy ground, 
 difficulties only presenting themselves when we entered the
 
 36 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 wood trails/ which were sometimes "soft" going. Twice 
 we nearly reached a large lake which we saw to the north- 
 west, but to achieve this was rather more than we felt inclined 
 to undertake as yet, until we had exhausted the intervening 
 ground. The next stag we found involved rather an interesting 
 follow-on chase, which I give from my diary. 
 
 September 8. — At daybreak, from the high ground above 
 St. John's Lake, I spied eight does and three stags all coming 
 along the high ridge above the New Lake. They were about 
 two miles off, and were travelling and feeding at short intervals. 
 One of the stags seemed to be a big beast with a fair head, 
 so I determined to try and catch him before he reached the 
 timber for which he seemed to be making, to lie up for the 
 day. First we had to cross a wooded valley, and in this we 
 disturbed two does, which fortunately moved off in a safe 
 direction. Once on the ridge, and on the spot where we had 
 seen the game, I spied again, and soon found the white sterns 
 of the deer, which had fed on for about a mile. They were 
 walking fast, and when a caribou is walking fast you have 
 to run. Not more than a mile ahead of the animals was the 
 opening of the forest, and so it was a case of who would 
 get there first. The ground was perfectly flat and open, 
 and so we had to run up-wind, keeping just inside the forest 
 on the north side so as to gain cover. This made the travel- 
 ling most arduous. To walk in the tangle of larch scrub, 
 peat-holes, and fallen trees is hard enough work, but to 
 
 ' Cormack, writing in 1822, speaking of the abundance of the deer paths, says : 
 " One of the most striking features of the interior are the innumerable deer paths on 
 the savannahs. They are narrow, and their directions as various as the winds, giving 
 the whole country a chequered appearance. Of the millions of acres here, there is 
 no one spot exceeding a few superficial yards that is not bounded on all sides by deer 
 paths!'' This is equally applicable to-day, but only of the interior.
 
 CARIBOU HUNTING 87 
 
 " head " travelling caribou by running through such obstacles 
 was almost beyond our strength. Three times we sank to 
 earth utterly exhausted, and could only be revived by taking 
 a look at the deer, which seemed to keep almost parallel to 
 our route. There were only another few hundred yards more 
 to fight through, and as it was a case of now or never, we 
 made one final effort and arrived at a long point of small 
 larch just as the first of the caribou, an old doe, came walking 
 along. I think a fair chance would hardly have presented 
 itself even then, had not a broad series of " leads " converged 
 and led sharply to the right at this point, for the old lady, 
 after stopping and carefully sniffing about to see if other 
 deer had passed, determined to adopt this route, and so 
 threw the game into our hands. I saw they would all come 
 by nicely, so sat still and strove to quiet my heaving chest. 
 The rifle performed strange parabolas in the air as I tried 
 the sight tentatively on her shoulder. It seemed hopeless 
 to shoot whilst in such a condition, yet the stag was due 
 in a few seconds, and I must try and compose myself. One, 
 two, six, eight big does filed slowly past at about a hundred 
 yards, then after an interval came a small stag, then at a 
 longer interval another stag about four years old, and then 
 for a while nothing. Where on earth was the big fellow .■* 
 Had he left them ? I moved slightly forward to verify my 
 suspicions, when the rolling horns and broad back of the 
 warrantable beast came into view. How differently a big 
 adult walks from a younger one! He seems indifferent to 
 his safety, especially when in the company of others, and 
 the Newfoundland expression of "soakin' along" seems to 
 exactly express his solemn, lazy mode of progression. He 
 did not seem inclined to stop, even when Saunders and I 
 both whistled, so I had to take him as he walked. At the
 
 88 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 shot he " skipped," and I felt sure he was fatally hit. This, 
 however, was not the case, but as he galloped across my 
 front, looking quite happy, I fired again and knocked him 
 head over heels with a bullet through the shoulders. The 
 other deer now seemed to lose their heads, and ran around 
 in the most stupid fashion. Even when we went up to the 
 fallen stag, they behaved altogether as no other deer do 
 when frightened or suspicious. The stag was a fair-sized 
 beast, but had rather a poor head, which I had mistaken 
 for something better, seeing it only on the sky-line ; a mistake 
 all stalkers may make at times. Yet I wish now I had not 
 killed him. Saw thirty-five deer to-day. 
 
 During the next few days I did nothing but explore and 
 map the country, and make a few sketches of the new ground 
 and lakes to the north-west. Sometimes we slept out at night, 
 taking Jack to carry my bed, and making a shelter of spruce 
 boughs. The men seemed quite merry and happy now, as 
 long as they had a good fire of birch and plenty to eat. They 
 had got over the idea that I wanted to shoot a big stag every 
 day, and were now content to wait for the good ones when 
 they should make their appearance. Altogether we had a 
 very jolly time, and Little Bob told me stories of his early 
 days which I was never tired of listening to. 
 
 Saunders' father had been the master of a little brigantine, 
 which he had built himself down at Green's Pond, Bonavista 
 Bay. With this little vessel he went every year to the seals, 
 and did pretty well till one fatal spring when the boat got 
 caught in the ice, and was driven ashore at Point o' Feather, 
 Harbour Grace; but Saunders can tell his own story in 
 briefer and more picturesque language than I, so I give it 
 in his own words.
 
 CARIBOU HUNTING 89 
 
 " A' got carried to the ' ice-huntin' ' myself when a' was 
 no more than seven and a half years old," said the old man, 
 as he reflectively puffed at his twisted plug. " Most wonderful 
 terbaccer this " — after which a long pause, only broken by 
 sounds of suction. 
 
 "Well, go on. Bob," I said; "tell us all about it." 
 
 " What you got that book out for .-' " 
 
 "Oh, just to make some notes on seal-hunting." 
 
 "Oh," and the old man positively blushed. " Yer ain't 
 goin' to put me in one of them books o' yours, are ye ? " 
 
 " Well, what if I am ? I shan't say anything nasty about 
 you anyhow, unless you hurry up and get on about that 
 time you got carried to the ice as a child." 
 
 After this threat the tale proceeded without a break, whilst 
 Jack occasionally offered encouraging suggestions, such as, 
 "You don't say!" "Well, well. Bob!" " Thet's what it is, 
 now I 
 
 "Ye know a' was brought up 'mongst seals and seal folk, 
 and a' can't recollect no time when ma dad warn't goin' to 
 the ice and ma mother warn't scared. Swoiles (seals) was 
 much to us in the spring, for it meant 'bout what we lived 
 on whether the seals drove down in the spring or not, and 
 we struck 'em. So when a' was a little chap ma mother 
 used to put me to bed and make me say prayers like this 
 when swoiles was about : ' Lard God Almighty, send a swile 
 fer daddy, an' send a swile fer mamma, and a swile fer Uncle 
 Jim, an' wan fer Uncle Jim's wife, an' a swile fer little Tommy, 
 an' one each fer Jarge an' Mary, an' a swile fer each of Cousin 
 Will's family, not forgettin' a swile fer Aunt Jane what's a 
 pore widder. An' oh. Lord, don't let de ice blow off shore 
 when daddy's aboard, an' bring 'un safe to hum. Amen.' 
 Then ma mother would call all over our relations to see
 
 40 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 a' 'adn't forgot none, an' if 'a hadn't remember 'em all she'd 
 make me say de prayer all again. 
 
 " A' was a ' loose ' (active) little kid, and used to help 
 de men getting things aboard Bona'va Bay when my dad 
 went to the sea, and one spring a' scooted up on deck and 
 found de sea runnin' by and us far out in de bay. ' Good 
 Lord,' said my dad, ' here's dat child, little Bob.' I said I'd 
 gone to sleep in the cabin just before they was startin'. 
 They couldn't put back, so a' got took. It was mighty cold, 
 but a' didn't mind that, as the men were kind to me, and 
 dad let me come on the ice one day, and I killed a seal. 
 Ye know, sir, that when we gets to be young men in this 
 country they don't think much of a chap unless he's bin 
 to de ice. It's a sort o' test o' hardiness, and the girls 
 think a heap of the young fellers that's bin once or twice 
 to the swoile fishin' and come back free with their money. 
 It's jest dog's work while it lasts, but somehow there's an 
 excitement in it that sets young fellers kind o' restless in 
 the spring ; and 'fore they know, they're a-signing on wi' Joe 
 Windsor or Sam Blandford. We sealers say, too, that man'U go 
 for a swile where gold won't drag 'un. A' was but fifteen 
 when old Sam asked me to go wi' him as cabin boy, and after 
 that a' goes to the ice every spring for twenty-two years." 
 
 "Is that so!" interposed Jack, with a look of profound 
 respect. 
 
 There was another long pause, but when a man's in the 
 humour to talk it is best to do nothing but look interested. 
 Presently Little Bob resumed : 
 
 " My first season wi' Sam we struck the 'harps' (Greenland 
 seals), nor'-east of the Funks, and killed 4100 in a week.^ 
 
 ' This number was afterwards exactly corroborated by Captain Sam Blandford 
 in a conversation I had with the "doyen" of the seal-hunters. A sealman takes 
 a pride in remembering the statistics and returns of every hunt.
 
 CARIBOU HUNTING 41 
 
 In those days if you killed two seals you had one of them, 
 not like now, when you only take every fourth seal, and 
 sometimes not that. We didn't form ' pans ' (piles) of seals 
 as they do now, but stuck pretty close to the vessel and 
 hauled two seals a man. We never spent a night out on 
 the ice, and alius went off wi' a piece o' fat pork, a few 
 biscuits an' cakes. When times was good we'd take a few 
 billets o' wood to make coffee, and eat the raw heart i' the 
 young ' whitecoats.' Captains was kind to their men, and 
 looked after them as fren's. We made a bit o' money then, 
 and them was the good times o' sealing when men weren't 
 treated worse than dogs as they are now," and Little Bob 
 puffed fiercely at his pipe. 
 
 "Now it's full speed ahead up into the 'good' ice. 
 Two hundred men in a foul tub not fit to carry thirty, an' 
 a bully to thrash you out o' your bunk whether you're fit 
 to go to the ice or no. They fling you out on the floe 
 ice with a few billets of wood, and steams away a day to 
 dump off another crowd, and like as not you've got to spend 
 the night out wi' your clothes freezin' on you, for you're 
 bound to fall in the cracks least once a night, however ' loose ' 
 you may be. Thar's no room below once the steam winch gets 
 a-going and seals a-comin' aboard, so up comes the coal, and 
 what with the grit and the blubber, two hundred men can't 
 sleep very comfortable on the open decks in a mass of muck, 
 wi' the cold freezin' your marrow." 
 
 " I wonder the men stand it, and they get crews year 
 after year," I suggested. 
 
 " Ah, that's cos you don't know what the poverty o' 
 Newfun'lan' is," returned the old man sadly. "There's boys 
 goes once or twice to prove they're men, but the crews dont 
 consist d them. It's the poor, the very poor, and they just
 
 42 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 have to go or starve. It's this way. Ye see there's lots 
 of poor fisher-folk all 'long the coast and islands that never 
 sees a dollar from one year end to another. 
 
 " 'Fore they goes to cod fishin' in summer the merchants 
 give 'em grub to keep their families all summer while they're 
 away. Fishin' goes on till October, and by December they've 
 got nothing, so has to go to the merchants again to get ' tick ' 
 in provisions to last 'em through the winter. Then to pay 
 this off they hev to go to the seals in the spring or they 
 won't get no more credit, as the merchants also own the 
 seal vessels. Only the captains make any money at the 
 seals, and they're good fellers as a rule, but if they lose 
 a vessel or let their men ' break out,' as they do at times, 
 they're soon as poor as the rest o' us. It 'ud make your 
 heart sore to see the way lots o' these islanders come aboard 
 the sealin' vessels in the spring — wi' pinched, half-starved 
 faces, and hardly 'nough clothes to stand a summer breeze. 
 
 " Yes, a've seen pretty rough times at the ice, 'specially 
 in the old sailin' vessel days. One spring wi' dad, we were 
 out two and a half months without takin' a single ' white- 
 coat.' We got caught in the ice, and a heavy gale came out 
 from the nor '-west, and none of us ever expected to see 
 Green's Pond no more. We was twenty-two days smashin' 
 to an' fro in the ice, wi' all our boats gone and the bulwarks 
 stove in, but by-and-by dad got her nose to the gale, and 
 after lyin'-to five days and five nights the gale rounded, 
 and we got out and made Harbour Grace half full o' water. 
 It was rough a' can say, no sleep, in at de pumps all the 
 time. Next year dad lost his vessel ; got caught in the ice 
 and drove up in Point o' Feather, Harbour Grace. So a' 
 shipped wi' Captain John Han for four or five springs. 
 Then a' went wi' Captain Sam Windsor for a spell ; and

 
 CARIBOU HUNTING 43 
 
 then wi' Captain Kane and Captain Green. A' also did two 
 trips wi' young Bill Windsor. 
 
 "Most wonderful sealman was ole Captain Sam Windsor. 
 The men on the east coast used to say that he could generally 
 tell where the seals was 'fore he went out. Some twenty 
 men, friends of mine, went one spring from Green Bay to 
 Green's Pond, to get a berth wi' Captain Carter. The ship 
 was about full, so only ten could sign on, and the others 
 had to walk home again, feelin' sick and hungry. On the 
 way home they saw ole Captain Sam Windsor standing at 
 the door of his house, and he after askin' their business 
 invited the whole lot in to breakfast. Then he says to 'em : 
 ' Don't be downhearted, boys, for not gettin' a berth wi' 
 Carter. The shore men hev bin haulin' whitecoats these 
 two days in Green and White Bay. Green Bay is full o' 
 swoile,^ so hurry home and look on the " driven " ice, and 
 you'll do better than goin' wi' Carter.' Each of those men 
 killed about ^60 apiece, and Carter got no seals." 
 
 " First spring Bill Windsor, his son, had a steam vessel, 
 a' went wi' him. She was called the Vanguard, and we 
 got jammed in the ice off Belleville Island, near to the Grey 
 Islands, on March 10. We couldn't move, so he sent me, 
 bein' a ' loose ' ice-man, over the ice to see if a' could get 
 to the islands and hear news of the seals. It was moon- 
 light, and a' travelled nine miles over pretty rotten stuff to 
 the north island, and then nine miles more across the 
 tickle^ to the next. Then a' had to go six miles across 
 
 ' The young Greenland seals only very rarely come as far south as this in the 
 spring, and then only when driven in by an easterly gale. 
 
 ^ This is a perfectly true story, and well known to all dwellers in St. John's. 
 The explanation is simple. Captain Windsor, as his nephew told me, perfectly 
 understood the spring winds and the movements of the floe ice under exceptional 
 circumstances. 
 
 ' A strait between two islands.
 
 44 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 the land 'fore a' met two young men. They told me that 
 swoiles had been driving by into White Bay for seven days 
 and seven nights. They themselves had hooked seventeen 
 whitecoats out o' the slob (shore ice). One told me also 
 Captain Toomey was anchored under the island, so I went 
 straight back to my ship and was pretty well done up, as 
 I hadn't had a bite to eat for twenty-four hours, and had 
 fell in twice and was 'most froze. By-and-by Captain Bill 
 comes to me, and asks me if a' would take a teller to 
 Captain Toomey, as none of the other men liked to go. 
 So after a few hours' sleep and a feed, a' starts again, and 
 after a rare job delivers ma letter to Captain Toomey. 
 ' Your Captain, Saunders,' says Toomey to me, ' is of the 
 same mind as I am. Those seals that's bin passin' is only a 
 patch o' the southern pack, the main body is away north in 
 the Straits' (Belle Isle), so when I gets back to my ship, the 
 Captain he up anchor and were off to the Straits and 
 the Labrador, and we didn't take nar' a seal. When we 
 come back to St. John's we finds all the other vessels 
 had filled wi' seals up in White Bay. So it show's there's 
 such a thing as being too clever," concluded the old man 
 sententiously. 
 
 I thought he'd finished his seal talk for the time being, 
 but Jack supplied a sequel by remarking, "Bob, sing us the 
 song the sealmen used to make 'bout that trip." 
 
 "Oh, that's rot, that's nothing." 
 
 "Well, let's have a bit of it anyhow, Bob," I suggested. 
 
 After some further persuasion the old hunter began to half 
 
 sing and half recite the following lines in a cracked voice : — 
 
 " Come all you jolly Ice-men 
 That ploughs the ragin' Main, 
 I'll tell ye of the Vanguard, 
 Likewise our Captain's name.
 
 CARIBOU HUNTING 45 
 
 His name is Captain Windsor, 
 Sailed out from Bonava's Bay, 
 In search of those young whitecoats 
 But still he got astray. 
 
 We steamed her down off Belleville 
 Our trials do begin 
 
 'Twas there we did get frozen in 
 
 For three long days or four, 
 
 We drift by the Grey Islands 
 
 And very near ashore. 
 
 'Twas here early next morning 
 
 Our Captain come on deck, 
 
 He says unto John William, 
 
 ' Bob Saunders, you'll go get — 
 
 Bob Saunders, you'll go get, my boy, 
 
 And try to get on shore, 
 
 Or hear from Captain Toomey 
 
 On board the Commodore! 
 
 We boarded Captain Toomey, 
 
 As you may understand, 
 
 A steamboat nigh three miles from us, 
 
 A frozen in the ' Jamb.' 
 
 A breakage from the Gull rock 
 It set the Vanguard free ; 
 She steamed into the harbour, 
 'Long with the other three. 
 Our people from the Island 
 These words I hear them say, 
 The Walrus and Paslusha 
 Driven in White Bay 
 Slipped in the spot of seals." 
 
 "A' don't remember no more," broke off Saunders, sud- 
 denly becoming modest, "but it's mostly rot 'bout myself;" 
 and he refused to speak further of his plucky act. 
 
 Hunting the Greenland seal from ships and hunting the 
 same from the storm-swept coast of Newfoundland are two 
 different matters. The chase in both cases is beset with
 
 46 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 sudden and dreadful dangers, seldom foreseen and often 
 incapable of being warded off. In both, the advent of 
 sudden storms may cause the grinding heavy mass to pack 
 on the coast, and thence whirl it seawards again where it is 
 dispersed in fragments with its human freight. The ships 
 can often, and generally do, rescue their men when these 
 untoward circumstances occur ; but the lot of the poor coast 
 hunter who snatches his precarious living from the outports 
 is hardness itself, for when difficulties come he has but his 
 own wits and bravery to help him. The wind that sweeps 
 the ice in, bearing on its bosom the tempting whitecoat, 
 may veer at any moment and drive the whole mass off 
 shore again, and then only the watchfulness of the land 
 look-outs and the ready resources of the men can save a 
 disaster. It takes real and solid courage to make a good 
 seal hunter ; not the somewhat theatrical bravery of the 
 soldier who leads a forlorn hope, but the dogged three 
 o'clock in the morning article that takes things humbly and 
 expects but little reward. 
 
 The true story of the Newfoundland ice-fields is not nor 
 ever will be written, nor will the names of its many heroes 
 be penned in the pages of an undying history, but in the 
 minds of many to-day who have taken part in that annual 
 strife with the forces of nature there live scores of instances 
 of marvellous courage and unselfish devotion. 
 
 Down on the barren east coast they tell the story of 
 Matilda Barworth and her half-witted son, born out of wed- 
 lock. She loved the boy who grew almost to man's estate, 
 and when he crept off in his quiet way after the others in 
 the spring-time she used to watch in the dusk for his 
 return, going with the other women of the village ; for, in 
 their universal charity, she had long since been forgiven.
 
 CARIBOU HUNTING 47 
 
 One evening, as the men were returning, the wind veered 
 suddenly, and in less than a minute there was a wide gap 
 formed between the rocks on the shore and the pack. This 
 little "tickle," as it is called, was not quite open water, but 
 a space of slushy, fine fragments of ice on which none can 
 run except the most experienced ice-men. In a few minutes 
 most of the men, being skilled from their youth, ran across 
 the dividing distance, which was every moment becoming 
 broader. As the roll of the ocean caused the rotten ice to 
 rise, they fell on their faces and lay flat, thus preventing 
 a slip through. All passed safely over except Jim Barworth, 
 whose courage seemed to have deserted him. 
 
 "Come, Jim, boy, try it now," cried his mother. "You 
 can do it sure." 
 
 But Jim could not face it, and ran backwards and forwards 
 in a panic. She kept calling to him again and again as 
 an anxious hind calls her calf, but he would not come, and 
 sank on the ice hiding his face in his hands. Suddenly the 
 woman ran out on the rotten ice and would perhaps have 
 crossed, had not a wave risen, formed a crack, into which 
 she disappeared for ever. At that moment Jim looked up 
 and sprang to his feet, for he loved his mother much. He 
 gave but one glance round and rushed across the dreaded 
 space with outstretched arms. But too late. The crack 
 opened again, and in Death mother and son were not 
 divided. 
 
 The weather still being brilliant, I revisited Selous' camp 
 for two days, and then went down to the east end of the 
 St. John's Lake for another two days, but in neither of these 
 places did we see even a small stag, so returned again to 
 my standing camp to the north-west of the lake.
 
 48 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 Nearly all hunters have superstitions, and on September 
 15 I discovered that neither Bob nor Jack were above this 
 pardonable weakness. 
 
 " A' dreamed o' Mrs. Bury last night," said Jack solemnly 
 at breakfast-time. 
 
 " Then we're sure to kill a big stag to-day," echoed 
 Saunders, with conviction. 
 
 Questioned as to the connection between this estimable 
 lady (the wife of a storekeeper in Alexander Bay) and the 
 monarch of the woods, Saunders at once gave the requisite 
 explanation. 
 
 "Once de ole man Stroud had been hunting fer nigh a 
 fortnight and nar a stag had he seen, till one night he seen 
 Mrs. Bury, who's a lady o' persition down our bay, sitting 
 on the top of a big stag and smilin' at 'un. Next day Stroud 
 kills a great one. Again on the same trip one o' the packers, 
 Dan Burton to name, he dreams he's bin a-talkin' to Mrs. 
 Bury, and sure 'nough Stroud's party kills 'nother big stag. 
 There's some connection 'tween the deer and dat lady, fer 
 last year Johnny here sees her in his sleep, and next day 
 Mister Selous kills the finest head I ever seen. We don't 
 really think much on Mrs. Bury, but when she comes to us 
 we're mighty glad." 
 
 The sun was sending great fiery shafts of light across the 
 eastern sky and painting the emerald woods with crimson 
 and gold as we stepped out of the forest on this particular 
 morning. We thought ourselves out early, but a flock of 
 Canadian geese rose clamorously from an upland marsh, 
 and a pair of great northern divers were calling querulously 
 from the clouds, showing that others had been up awhile 
 before us. On a little lake up near the first spying place 
 some dusky ducks were paddling along the edge and turning
 
 Saunders' Waterfall, Tlrra-Nova River 
 
 Where a Stag has Cleaned his Horns
 
 CARIBOU HUNTING 49 
 
 upside down in the familiar fashion of our own mallards. It 
 was a glorious waking to life, and we sat for a while enjoying 
 the crisp morning air and wondering if the stags ever intended 
 to move. 
 
 "Think we'll take a walk round Island Pond to-day," said 
 Saunders, suggesting a new ground, and to this I at once 
 acquiesced, as my guide said that an old stag or two generally 
 "summered" there in the stunted and isolated belts of spruce, 
 often coming: to the lake shore in the evening;. 
 
 At noon we rested for our regular midday tea by a little 
 stream, where were many larches recently scraped by a 
 caribou stag. 
 
 " That feller's close about here somewhere," said Saunders, 
 and so he was, for soon after commencing our stealthy walk 
 round the isolated drokes, I suddenly looked to my left and 
 saw the broad back and snowy neck of the game we sought 
 for. We had surprised the deer within eighty yards, and he 
 was feeding unconcernedly, so I ought not to have hurried 
 as I did to take him " from the shoulder," as there was time 
 to get into an easy position in which I could have made a 
 certainty of the shot. Immediately the stag turned sideways 
 I fired, the bullet going too high over his back. The deer 
 at once galloped away from the cover a few yards and again 
 stood. This time I hit him on the horn, which frightened 
 him considerably and caused an instantaneous retreat to the 
 woods. As he galloped away I pulled again, without effect, 
 and yet again as he crossed a little sluit about a hundred and 
 fifty yards away. 
 
 "You have him," said Jack; "I saw the hair fly from 
 his side ; " but I did not think so, seeing that the stag had, 
 after the shot, galloped away easily, and then starting back 
 with raised head and tail and extended " scut," leapt in the 
 
 D
 
 50 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 air and took a few long slinging steps to the rear. Then 
 he gave one wild comprehensive survey of the landscape, 
 kicked some stones into the air, and galloped away out of 
 sight as hard as his legs would carry him. 
 
 We now ran forward, and on rounding a belt of forest 
 saw my stag lying dead in the open. My last shot had 
 taken him right through the heart. The head was a very 
 ordinary specimen of that grown by the average Newfoundland 
 caribou. 
 
 During the walk home it was terribly hot, and Saunders, 
 having the head to carry, became thirsty, and most unwisely 
 drank some water out of a stagnant pool. When we got to 
 camp he complained of feeling ill, and could eat nothing. 
 Unfortunately, too, the brandy had been left down at the 
 boats on Lake St. John, so it was daybreak before Jack 
 started to fetch the only medicine we possessed. By the 
 evening Saunders was much better and ate some dinner, 
 and next morning expressed himself as quite recovered and 
 able to try the ground near the New Lake on which I had 
 fixed some hopes. 
 
 At the east end of this lake, which was a large sheet of 
 water some twenty-five miles round (and now named after 
 me), is a broad open marsh. This space connected two 
 great forests, and by all reasoning we assumed that many 
 of the deer that would eventually come from the northern 
 woods must cross this flat to reach the southern woods. It 
 was directly in the line of migration nearly south-west, and 
 so we decided to go down and examine the marsh, and, if 
 there should be a good show of "leads" passing across it, 
 to camp there for a week and let the deer come to us. 
 
 Jack came with us as usual now, for he was a sociable 
 fellow and hated being left in camp by himself ; and, as
 
 
 i 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^
 
 CARIBOU HUNTING 51 
 
 apart from other considerations, he had sharp eyes, I liked 
 to have him with me. 
 
 A pleasant walk of five or six miles over the high ridge 
 and then down through the timber for another two miles 
 brought us to the eastern end of the New Lake. I did not 
 go on to the shore, but stopped behind examining a splendid 
 series of fresh caribou trails leading, as I had hoped they 
 would, right across the marsh and round the lake edge. It 
 was the very place to meet the deer, and I could put my 
 camp in a " droke " of spruce close to the water's edge as 
 long as the north wind, which had now started, continued 
 to hold. 
 
 I sat down to rest well satisfied with the outlook, when 
 Jack, who had gone to fill the kettle, suddenly came rushing 
 back to me to say that a stag and a doe were at that 
 moment swimming across the lake. Sure enough, there 
 they were far out in the centre of the lake, and making for 
 the southern shore about a mile to our left. There was no 
 time to be lost, as caribou swim fast, so we got off at once, 
 and fortunately found that the forest, which was new to us, 
 was not so dense as usual, and that we could progress at 
 a fair rate under cover. Looking over a high bank which 
 concealed the point for which the deer were making, I saw 
 the animals coming on fast about four hundred yards away, 
 and heading straight for our position. Here I took the 
 telescope from Saunders, who now expressed the opinion 
 that the stag was a small one ; and after bringing it to bear 
 on the horned one, I was forced to a similar conclusion. 
 The two deer now must have seen us, or changed their 
 minds as to a landing place, for they suddenly turned to a 
 right angle and gave me a good broadside view. The 
 appearance of the deer with horns now presented a some-
 
 52 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 what different aspect ; it had upturned brow points like a 
 red deer, and a thin grey neck utterly unlike that of any 
 young stag. 
 
 " That's a doe," I said to Saunders, handing him the 
 glass to take a look. 
 
 "Yes," replied my companion, "an' with the biggest 
 horns I ever see in my life." 
 
 The two deer had now separated, the unhorned doe 
 coming straight on and landing within a few yards of us 
 before dashing into the forest, whilst the other one whose 
 head I now coveted had turned east again, and was making 
 for a gravel bank about half a mile on our back tracks. 
 The wind being perfect, I easily headed the deer, and gave 
 her a bullet immediately she landed on the shore. She 
 carried unusually large horns of twelve points, and was 
 evidently an old " yeld " doe. 
 
 As a rule caribou does have no horns to speak of, and 
 as it was of scientific interest to know what proportion of 
 females carried these cranial appendages, I kept a careful 
 list of all the deer seen by myself during the trip, and what 
 percentage of, in this case, the uglier sex, were so ornamented. 
 
 Number of female caribou seen, 306 ; made up of i with 
 twelve points, i with eight points, 6 with four points, 40 with 
 three points, (about) 120 with two points, 130 with no horns, 
 or with only small knobby excrescences. 
 
 On our way home we noticed little sign of stags travelling ; 
 but on going up out of the forest we ran right up against a 
 good beast, which I killed without any stalking, or in fact 
 any incident that is worth recording. He simply stood and 
 looked at me from about fifty yards, and I shot him from 
 the shoulder. He had a pretty but not a large head of 
 twenty-six points, and was evidently a young stag.
 
 Caribou Swimming 
 {Frovi Plwlografhs fy Parsons)
 
 CARIBOU HUNTING 53 
 
 On the night of September 17, Jack baked bread for 
 three days, as we had decided on a three days' tramp to 
 the east until the stags should show signs of moving past 
 the New Lake to the north, whence I hoped to go by-and- 
 by. As we left the wood close to our camp we came on 
 the fresh sign of a black bear not an hour old. 
 
 " Shouldn't wonder if that cuss cleans out our camp while 
 we're gone," murmured Saunders reflectively, as he examined 
 it ; then as wc tramped along the old man indulged in a 
 few reminiscences. 
 
 " A've know'd um do thet more'n once, and play funny 
 wid de whole outfit. There was an Indian named Stephen 
 lived down our bay a while back. He was just the best 
 trapper in Newfun'lan', an' he told me wance when I was 
 in, furrin' (trapping) wi' him, that one night he wakes up 
 sudden cos de fire had gone out, and across the glow he 
 sees a great black thing movin'. 
 
 " ' Who's dere ? ' he call out, seizin' his gun. De feller 
 don't answer. So he rips at 'un and finds he's killed a 
 large black bear what's eatin' out of he's sugar-can. Stephen 
 he kill more bears than any feller in Newfun'lan', and one 
 fall he come to me and Jack's father and sed he'd shot the 
 largest kind of a bear 'bout ten miles back, and sed too 
 we could get all de fat and meat if we'd come. So he 
 an' little Jack here, he warn't more than a child o' ten 
 then, starts off, and late that evening we come to the 
 carcase. I never seed such a bear as that, 9 feet long, if 
 he was an inch, and I've seen as many bear in Newfun'lan' 
 as any one but Stephen. We started for home next 
 morning, little Jack here carryin' a load that made his 
 nose bleed, but he wouldn't give up or say a word, the little 
 varmint."
 
 54 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 Jack looked shy and utterly uninterested as the old man 
 continued. 
 
 "Stephen was married to the daughter of old Jim 
 Baxter, himself half an Indian, and a man that had spent 
 all his days reevin' through de woods, so o' course he 
 warn't o' much account. People was mighty civil to Stephe 
 as they was afraid of him, and thet's the way o' most. Yet 
 he was a merry cuss, singin' and laughin' all de time and 
 nothin' to scare a body till ye caught his eyes, and then folk 
 was apt to feel cold. He tried to knife one young chap fer 
 spillin' some coffee on his toes, an' he used to say straight 
 that if he found any white man trappin' bear or huntin' deer 
 too far from de Bay he'd shoot 'un dead. So most folk stop 
 at home. 
 
 " He'd a great name as a hunter, and whiles used to take 
 town's fellers to de woods, that is, them as didn't know 'un 
 and was fools enough to go with 'un. Course those days they 
 got nothin' cos Stephe 'ud tramp 'em all through de meshes 
 and scare every mother's son o' deer so long as de grub 
 lasted. One time he go out wi' a young 'un from St. John's, 
 named Molony, for a fortnight, and when they come back 
 that feller ain't seen so much as a deer's scut. So I ask 
 Stephe, who liked me somehow, how 'twas. 
 
 "'What, 7ne show Molony deer?' ses he sarcastic, 'while 
 there's sugar and coffee and bacon. Oh no, no, no, that 
 ain't Stephe." And the old man and Jack indulged in an 
 amused chuckle. 
 
 I was interested in this queer character, so in response 
 to my request for more " Stephe," Saunders continued. 
 
 " There was a loud blowin', bully in' feller that kept a 
 merchant store down Bonava' Bay, and made lots o' money 
 by cheatin' us poor folk. His name was Stanley, an' he
 
 CARIBOU HUNTING 55 
 
 was powerful fond o' the gun. One fall he goes in wi' 
 Stephe, and after a week o' seein' nothin' but drokes and 
 meshes, he gets mad and cusses the Indian. Sed he'd lied 
 to 'un, and that he'd be off for home right there at once and 
 make things hot fer 'un. Stephe never sed a word at first, 
 but jus' looks at 'un wi' his cold eyes, then he darts off, 
 sayin' he'd show him deer for sure that day. They jus' 
 walked and walked and walked, and by-and-by Stephe tells 
 de feller to sit down and take a spell while he goes into 
 the timber to light a fire and boil kettle. Presently the man 
 from Bonava's Bay gets cold and hungry, and he goes to 
 find Stephe and de kittle ; but de Indian was far away by 
 that time, and he didn't ever see 'un again — least not for 
 some time." 
 
 "How did the man get out. Bob?" 
 
 "Well, if it hadn't bin that there was plenty blueberries 
 that fall, and he had a box of matches, he certainly wouldn't 
 a' seen Bonava's Bay agin, for he was clean lost. It took 
 'un three days 'fore he struck the Terra-Nova River, where 
 some loggers picked 'un up famished and 'most crazy. 
 
 " When Stanley got back to de salt water, first man he 
 met was Stephe, lookin' as sweet and pleasant as a day in 
 June. 
 
 " ' Ho, you damned rascal,' screamed the wanderer, ' I'm 
 goin' now to de magistrate to have you arrested, and you'll 
 be jailed sure fer two years.' 
 
 " ' Very well,' says Stephe, ' an' as soon as I come out 
 I shoot you dead very quick.' Stanley stood in the road 
 for some time thinking about it all, and then — he walks 
 home. Dey was all afraid to do anything to Stephe, but 
 he didn't get many hunting parties after that trip." 
 
 I thought he had finished, but seeing my interest in the
 
 56 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 character of this wild creature, he volunteered yet another 
 excellent tale. 
 
 " Ever hear that old Newfun'lan' yarn o' Stephe and the 
 two 'sports'? No? Well, ye know you can't lose an Indian 
 even supposin' ye put him down blin'fold in the centre o' 
 the island and tell him to make fer St. John's, and what's 
 more, they don't like to be told they may be going faulty 
 or there's apt to be trouble. We'll, one fall, after he'd nearly 
 killed de Bonava' man, Stephe takes in two townies to hunt. 
 Disremember their names, but we'll call 'em Johnny and 
 George. Johnny stays in camp one day, and Stephe goes 
 off wi' George fer to find a deer. They reeves around all 
 day now in de woods, now on de meshes, till by nightfall 
 George gets uncomfortable and doesn't know where he is, 
 and is precious sure the Indian don't know either, cos our 
 woods is tough, as you know. By-and-by Stephe sits down 
 to light a fire. 
 
 "'Guess we're lost,' ses George. 
 
 "'Oh no,' says Stephe, lookin' up, kind o' sour. 'Indian 
 not lost, Indian never lost; Camp and Johnny lost.'" 
 
 "That's good, Bob! Where's Stephe now?" I said. 
 
 " Dead. Dead six winters ago. De woods and — er — 
 other things done fer him, as it does fer all of us in time. 
 He was haulin' a deer 'long de ice o' George's Pond when 
 he slip up and cracked his skull. He got home to de Bay, 
 but died a few weeks after. A' seen 'un just 'fore he goes, 
 an' he say to me, ' Saunders, whisky's bad fer haulin' deer.' "
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 BEGINNING OF THE MIGRATION AT MILLAIS'S LAKE 
 
 " What's this French shore question," I said to Bob one 
 evening. 
 
 " There ain't no French shore question — least not in New- 
 fun'lan'," said Little Bob, with a certain tinge of sarcasm. 
 " We heard tell that in your papers they're alius talkin' 
 about the French shore, and what right the Frenchies have 
 thar'. But, sure 'nough, didn't these Frenchies make them 
 villages, and work the land after the Government let them 
 settle there. Yes, right enough. Well, those Frenchies hev 
 been settled there that long, I guess neither English nor 
 French Government's goin' to turn 'em out, and what's morei 
 no Newfun'lan'er grudges them their luck, though they hev 
 got the only bit of coast that isn't worked out and fished 
 to death." ^ 
 
 " How's that, Saunders ? " 
 
 " Lobsters, jest lobsters. They fishes lobsters, and makes 
 a good thing of it, though they are growing a bit scarce 
 now. Up there along the French shore the youngsters is 
 born web-footed, and the old folk watch the ebb-tide. Yet 
 it takes more brains to catch an old gran'pa lobster than 
 a cod, one of those old fellows with seaweed on his back 
 and a pair of nippers that could bite yer head off. He's 
 brains, I tell you, and it needs brainy men like those 
 
 ' Since this was written, the French shore question has been settled by the 
 payment of a large sum on the part of the English Government. All the French 
 settlers have now left. 
 
 57
 
 58 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 Frenchies to catch them. One summer I went lobster 
 catchin' along by de Grey Islands, and we done pretty poor 
 till the spearin' came on." 
 
 "How do you spear lobsters?" I remarked, for this 
 method of taking the crustacean was new to me. 
 
 " Well, 'long 'bout the month of August the lobsters cast 
 their shells, and is sort o' soft and fleshy 'bout the back so's 
 ye can drive a spear into 'un. We used to go out early in 
 the day 'long the coast, to where there was caves with the 
 sea washin' up into them. Round about the mouth of these 
 caves we'd cast half a boatload of cod's insides or rotten 
 herrings, always being careful to heave the bait where we 
 cud see clean bottom. Then we lay by fer half-an-hour, 
 an' the fun 'ud begin soon as the tide was sufficient ebb to 
 reach bottom with our long spears. Great sport it was, too, 
 and none too easy stickin' them lobsters as they grabbed 
 the pieces of fish and made off. I liked that kind of fishing 
 fine, and made a good pack of money at it too, fer we'd get 
 as many as fifty to a hundred in a morning sometimes. 
 Anyhow, those Frenchies is all right if you leave 'em alone, 
 an' I know that if they was Newfun'lan' Englishmen they 
 wouldn't turn out after they made the place too." 
 
 During the next few days " we reeved aroun' considerable " 
 (as Saunders graphically expressed it), seeing a fair number 
 of does and two big stags, both of which showed up in the 
 timber for a minute, and disappeared as soon as I ran to 
 head them. As there was now every sign that the larger 
 deer had commenced to travel, I moved the camp ten miles 
 over the two ridges, and descended into the valley by Millais's 
 Lake, where I had settled to watch the open barrens at the 
 east end. 
 
 I have already stated this barren forms a connecting
 
 ~v
 
 MIGRATION AT MILLAIS'S LAKE 59 
 
 link between the northern and southern forest, and as it 
 lies immediately in the centre of the main deer leads of the 
 southern herd, I felt sure that I should soon be rewarded 
 by the sight of more good stags than we had encountered 
 during the first four weeks of spying and timber tramping. 
 There is no doubt that if you want to get really good heads 
 in Newfoundland, the only way is to sit still when the deer 
 are on the move. This is, of course, not the highest class 
 of sport, but it is interesting for a few days, and during the 
 week that we spent by the lake I thoroughly enjoyed my 
 stay, and saw more caribou than previously. 
 
 We waited all the 20th and 21st without seeing anything 
 worth shooting, and on the 22nd, after spying the barren 
 from daybreak till nine o'clock, I got a fit of restlessness, and 
 so determined to take a walk on high ground towards the 
 Gander. To reach this high ground it was first necessary 
 to cross the little river flowing at the north-east corner, and 
 then, after an uphill mile of dense woods, it was all plain 
 sailing. We tried to cross the river near the lake, and 
 found this impossible, afterwards holding right across the 
 open barren to effect a passage higher up. This was an 
 unfortunate manoeuvre, and one that almost cost us a fine 
 stag as subsequent events proved. One should not walk 
 about on the ground where deer are expected to cross. 
 Half a mile up the country the river was still impossible, 
 and, so as not to waste further time, I decided to go up 
 and work the ridge to the south-east. As we crossed the 
 barren I kept looking round (a habit one gets into when 
 expecting game to appear from any quarter) ; and suddenly 
 saw three does come out of the north woods, dash across 
 the river, and begin to traverse the open marsh. We had 
 hardly got out of sight when three more came suddenly into
 
 60 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 view behind us, and all six presently worked on to the main 
 lead straight up the southern woods and disappeared. This 
 episode caused a few minutes' delay, then once more we rose 
 and resumed our journey ; but on giving a final glance back at 
 the now distant river, I saw something moving on the edge 
 of the north woods, close to the water. This brownish- 
 grey thing resolved itself into a doe when the glass was 
 fixed upon it, but there was something else in the field of 
 my telescope. It was at first a shadowy grey spot, which, 
 as I kept the glass upon it, grew lighter and lighter as it 
 neared the edge of the woods, and eventually became white 
 as a patch of snow. 
 
 "A stag, and a big one too," said Saunders and Jack 
 simultaneously. 
 
 The grand old fellow came out of the forest with slow 
 and dignified steps. He stood a moment haughtily sur- 
 veying the open prospect before him, the sun shining on 
 his splendid horns. Without hesitation he took the river, 
 and, landing on the near bank, proceeded to shake a halo 
 of sparkling water from his hide. Then off he set to cross 
 the marsh, so I deemed it time to be going to meet him. 
 
 A sharp run of four or five hundred yards took us to 
 "The Island," as we had christened a small clump of larch 
 and spruce in the middle of the barren. Here I left my 
 companions, and proceeded alone to crawl out on to the 
 marsh towards a certain stone, within easy shot of the lead 
 I felt sure the stag would traverse. Raising myself slightly, 
 I had the satisfaction of seeing the pair coming quickly 
 along. The doe well in front, looking uneasily from side 
 to side, the stag following with steady footfall, but apparently 
 indifferent to danger. They were all right, that was certain, 
 because the wind was blowing straight from them to myself.
 
 O 
 
 X 
 
 O 
 
 z 
 
 o 

 
 MIGRATION AT MILLAIS'S LAKE 61 
 
 and they must pass broadside on within a hundred yards. 
 With the quiet satisfaction of a man who has got what is 
 vulgarly called a "soft thing," I was just arranging a nice 
 clump of moss under my left arm when there was a sharp 
 whistle from "The Island," and I knew at once that something 
 had gone wrong. 
 
 Rising up, there were the two caribou racing away back 
 to the river at full gallop. There was nothing left but to 
 sit down and try the stag before he should be completely 
 out of shot. The third bullet struck him on the left horn 
 and materially added to his fears, whilst the fourth just passed 
 his shoulder as he swung slightly to one side. Seeing that 
 he was about to turn quite broadside I kept the last cartridge 
 in the magazine for such a contingency, and to my relief 
 he not only did so, but slowed down to a walk as if about 
 to stop. 
 
 The stag was now a good 300 yards away, but having a 
 good position and a fine light I pressed the trigger slowly, 
 feeling the shot was a gfood one. A loud crack and an 
 instantaneous start on the part of the deer showed that 
 the bullet had struck him. Nevertheless he went off again at 
 full gallop, falling twice into bogs, from which he extricated 
 himself with wonderful strength and skill, and then, with a 
 final effort, he made at full speed for the river, tripped 
 over a low bank, turned a complete somersault, and fell 
 dead. 
 
 It was a moment of great exultation such as every hunter 
 experiences after making a long shot that is successful. 
 Saunders had seen the stag fall, and rushed out of " The 
 Island " waving his hat and shouting with glee. Our quarry 
 was a fine stag with a good Roman nose, such as only old 
 stags (of all species) possess ; but his horns were completely
 
 62 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 buried in the moss, so we had to dig them out for fear of a 
 breakage. Jack set to work, and soon unearthed to view the 
 antlers of a typical caribou, not an extraordinary one, but a 
 fine well-developed head of thirty points, with good strong 
 brows and bays. The horns were rather longer than the 
 average, and the whole what Saunders described as a fine 
 head. We sat long discussing the incidents of the capture, 
 photographing, and skinning the head and neck whilst Jack 
 appropriated the thick rolls of fat lying across the buttocks. 
 This deer was the fattest I have ever seen when skinning 
 any specimen of the cervidce ; a good three inches of fat lay all 
 over the thighs, and there was also a thick layer all over the 
 lower parts. 
 
 Next day, 23rd September, the equinoctial gales com- 
 menced from the west, and the wind increased till the 25th, 
 when it blew almost a hurricane. It was my custom to rise 
 at daybreak, the men getting up half-an-hour earlier to make 
 the fire and boil the kettle for our morning meal. On the 
 morning of the 24th, and when Saunders and Jack had 
 finished their breakfast, they went out to spy the marsh 
 from an open about 30 yards from the camp while I sat and 
 sipped my tea. My boots lay at some distance, and I was 
 just feeling pretty comfortable, thinking how much more 
 delightful camp was than crouching under the lee of a wet 
 bush, for it was still "blowing smoke," when Jack rushed in 
 to say that a great stag had just crossed the river, and was 
 even now traversing the marsh. There was no time to do 
 more than pull on my boots and to fiy out on the barren, 
 up across the wind so as to head the beast, for I knew he 
 would make for one of two passes. 
 
 " A shocking set o' harns," said Saunders, taking the 
 glass from his eye as I dashed by him, but I did not do
 
 MIGRATION AT MILLAIS'S LAKE 63 
 
 more than glance at the beast, which was walking quickly 
 along in the grey dawn. In a few minutes Jack and I had 
 reached the edge of the hill forest up into which the stag 
 would presently pass, when to my extreme disgust the gale 
 came rushing in a mighty wave over the trees and driving 
 our wind straight towards the now rapidly approaching animal. 
 There was not a moment in which to make a fresh disposi- 
 tion. It was one of those occasions when action decisive and 
 immediate was imperative ; consequently I ran with all my 
 might to come within view of the main lead up the hill, so 
 that even if the stag bolted I should at any rate get a running 
 shot. But this was not to be, and I lost the finest horned 
 stag I had till then ever seen. As I ran along the wood edge, 
 and was still about 250 yards from him, I suddenly saw him 
 throw up his mighty antlered head and spring into the air, 
 as a caribou stag generally does when he gets the wind. A 
 frightened deer will usually halt a moment or two and give 
 you time for a shot, but this fellow seemed to know some- 
 thing about men, and at once made off down wind as hard 
 as his legs could carry him. He was in the worst kind of 
 hummocky ground, and I fired three hopeless shots at his 
 retreating form before he jerked round the edge of the 
 forest arm, and disappeared for ever. Then I went home 
 miserable. 
 
 On the way back I met Saunders, who, with the kindest 
 intentions, endeavoured to cheer me by saying that this stag 
 carried the finest horns he had ever seen in his life. He, 
 moreover, asked permission to take my rifle and follow the 
 stag as he felt sure I had hit him. I was equally certain that 
 I had not touched the beast, and should indeed have been 
 surprised if I had ; but Saunders, who cherished an altogether 
 unwarrantable view of my shooting powers, considered it
 
 64 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 impossible that I had missed him, and so begged for leave 
 to take up the spoor. 
 
 " I can take some tea and go two days, and then I will 
 come up wi' him, if he don't go hard ground," said the old 
 fellow. 
 
 " But what about stags in the meantime, Bob," I sug- 
 gested, as we had only one rifle. This proved unanswerable, 
 so we returned to camp to wait for another monarch of the 
 woods. 
 
 During the day several deer passed the marsh, but it was 
 not till the evening that the sight of another snowy neck 
 and waving horns of a stag coming along the lake side 
 changed the tenour of our thoughts. It was growing dusk, 
 so I could not see the antlers very well, particularly as he 
 kept close along a belt of trees that fringed the marsh. I 
 ran and took up " the position favourable," as Monsieur 
 Alphonse would say. With the stag was a doe who carried 
 large horns with eight points, an unusual number. She 
 came along in front of her lord and master, looking sus- 
 piciously from side to side as she took each step. I thought 
 she would see me as I lay out on the bare moss not loo 
 yards away, but she went by quietly, and as the stag oame 
 on I gave him a shot that looked like a settler. He did 
 not fall, however, but stood again at 200 yards, so I fired 
 again and dropped him quite dead ; the bullet piercing the 
 kidneys, an instantly fatal shot. 
 
 He had nice brows, and was a fair beast, but not such a 
 head as I would have shot had the light been sufficiently 
 good to properly distinguish the animal. But one has to 
 take one's chance sometimes. The first royal I ever shot 
 in Scotland was killed at 200 yards in a failing light, when 
 I could not do more than see he was a large beast.
 
 off^yz-'s- 
 
 Kj,fk;K.:- 
 
 YELLOWSHAN'KS 
 
 
 
 ;ii%3P--:. 
 
 jf 
 
 )..,)i.i 
 
 What vou can do if there is a Big Stoxe to hide behind 
 AND THE Wind is Favourable
 
 MIGRATION AT MILLAIS'S LAKE 65 
 
 It was rough at night, and snowing a little, so after 
 dinner, when pipes were glowing, the conversation naturally 
 turned on winter hunting and adventures in the snow. The ^ 
 men told me of rough times they had experienced when 
 they went in to get the winter meat. 
 
 "A' mind a time," said Saunders, "when a' was 'most 
 crazy. 'Twas once when ole man Stroud, the two Arnolds, 
 and young Baxter come in wi' me to hunt our winter meat, 
 and young Baxter Stroud, a boy o' seventeen, he got lost 
 in de snow. Ole man Stroud sends Baxter out wi' me, and 
 tell me to be perticler careful wi' 'un cos he ain't no good 
 at findin' way, but I never think he'd stray the way he 
 done. Third day out a' sees three deer, and goes fer 'em. 
 They moved over a ridge, so I ran on, cut 'un off, and 
 after puttin' three guns at 'em, kills one, and paunches 'un. 
 By-and-by a' goes to look fer Baxter, but he ain't whar 
 a'd left 'un, so I specs he'd gone to camp. When a' 
 come in the ole man Stroud says kind o' sharp, ' Where's 
 Baxter?' and a' looks round and sees he ain't thar. A' 
 feels kind o' sick fer a minute, fer it's now snowing hard, 
 and cold fit to freeze a body to death, but a' couldn't say 
 a word even when de ole man say he won't see his boy 
 again. We all starts off by-and-by to look fer tracks o' 
 Baxter, fer the snow had stopped, and the moon had 
 come out. Stroud he wants to go to the place where 
 a' had left the boy, but a' knew well enough tracks was 
 all covered by this time, and that Baxter would make fer 
 the old camp which we'd left in de morning. 'Bout day- 
 break we come to a place where our ponies had broke 
 through de ice morning before, and as we stops to look 
 we hear a faint call from a droke o' spruce close by 
 — a' runs up, and there lies Baxter 'most froze. We lights
 
 66 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 a big fire, and brings him round, but we was only just in 
 time." 
 
 "Tell Mr. Millais o' that time you had after ole Noah," 
 here interposed Jack. To this Saunders immediately raised 
 objections, and it was only after more leading questions, 
 and many pauses, that the old man told his tale. His re- 
 luctance was, of course, because it involved no little credit 
 to himself. But at last we got him fairly under weigh. 
 
 " Noah Dimot is an ole feller 'bout seventy years. He's 
 alius lived down our Bay 's far as a' can remember, and 
 whenever he go into de woods he got lost. Thar's some 
 folk, d'ye know, can't fin' thar way around even if thar was 
 finger-posts all de time, and ole Noah 'e was alius that 
 kind. His folk shouldn't 'a' allowed him round without a 
 string. He was terrible fond o' the gun, and thet v/as 
 how we had the greatest hunt I ever knew. Ole Noah 'e 
 gone out one winter towards a lake, four or five miles from 
 de Bay, to look for rabbits. Some men at a lumber 
 camp, 'bout three mile out, see 'un going out. Next evenin' 
 one of those men's sittin' by de fire smokin', like to we, 
 asks if any of 'em seen Noah goin' home, fer he'd pro- 
 mised to leave a rabbit. No, none of 'em had seen um, 
 so they look in each other's faces, and that night one o' 
 them comes down to the Bay to see if Noah's home. O' 
 course, Noah had got lost as usual, and de whole o' de 
 men in the Bay were out that night lookin' for Noah wi' 
 birch bark torches. 
 
 " It was lucky there was no fresh snow, for if there had 
 been, that would hev bin the end o' Noah Dimot. Early 
 in the morning a' finds Noah's track, and follows it all the 
 next day. There was three other men wi' me, and Noah's 
 son, Sandy. We'd never a bite to eat, and snow was
 
 >?^ ■i:yjf/e-j -}*<?•=--' //•/■/■ //// A f:>'>uy^^ , y?^y/ '. 
 
 Vy..
 
 MIGRATION AT MILLAIS'S LAKE 67 
 
 threatening, though it didn't come, and a' hed to haul off 
 to send two o' the men back for some grub. Then when 
 the men come they was dead beat, so a' went on all 
 through de night wi' Sandy. 'Twas most surprisin' the dis- 
 tance that ole man travelled — the further he went each day, 
 the faster he goes towards evenin'. Sometimes we found 
 where he'd made great springs like a scared rabbit, and a' 
 see by-and-by a' warn't followin' no sensible man, but 
 one just crazy wi' fear. It was curious to see how he'd 
 crossed three lumber roads an' took no notice: he'd gone 
 just straight ahead and reeved through the thickest places. 
 Towards morning a' see we's goin' to have weather. Soon 
 there comes a slight ruffle o' snow, and a' thought 'twas all 
 up, for a' would hardly see trail. When daylight came a' 
 was tired, and Sandy, though younger than me, says he 
 can't go no further, or we'd be dead too, as we got no 
 more grub ; but just then a' finds where ole man had lay 
 down and slept, and he ain't got up and gone on more'n 
 an hour. So a' says to Sandy to cheer up, fer de ole man 
 must be 'bout wore out, and must drop soon. 
 
 " 'T warn't long before we come to the edge o' the 
 forest, an' lookin' across de mesh a' seen de old man Noah 
 walkin' along slowly, slowly, an' usin' a long pole fer a 
 walkin' stick. Down our Bay, sir, we've got a picter of 
 an old Yankee feller called Rip van Winkle, an' when a' 
 looks up and seen de ole man Noah, wi' bent back and 
 snow-white hair and beard, dodderin' 'long, and resting on 
 his long stick, wi' his clothes all tore to rags, a' thinks it's 
 just old Rip came to Newfun'lan'. When we come up to 
 'un, we seen he ain't got no hat, and his clothes was most 
 tore to rags, and a' tell you he looked wild. 'E didn't 
 know his son Sandy at all, but when a'd give 'im a sup o'
 
 68 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 brandy, and told 'im a' was Saunders, 'e knowed me at 
 once, and said quite merry, ' All right now, boys, a' ain't 
 got lost ; see de ole woman again, boys.' 
 
 "A' needn't tell you de trouble we had to get back, as 
 we'd no grub but only brandy ; but a' made a great fire, 
 and was just startin' by myself for a lumber camp some 
 twenty miles back, when the boys, who'd trailed us, came 
 up, an' we got de ole man back to the Bay after takin' a 
 good spell. Ole Noah was sixty-seven when 'e got lost 
 like that, an' 'e was four days and four nights without food 
 or fire, so don't tell me some old 'uns ain't tough, for there 
 most young 'uns would a' gone under. Ole Noah 'e's seventy- 
 three now, but 'e don't do no more rabbit 'untin'." 
 
 It was blowing a full gale all the 25th, but I decided 
 to stop one more day, in the hope of seeing something out 
 of the ordinary. In this I was not disappointed, for though 
 I did not kill an extraordinary head this trip, I got that 
 evening a stag with first-rate antlers, and quite the best I 
 obtained. His capture was almost too easy, for the wind 
 was perfect, and he was just " soakin' " along, smelling where 
 some deer had passed, and not caring for anything in the 
 world. I had been spying and watching all day, and had 
 just gone a few steps to the camp to get a warm up, when 
 a whistle from Jack recalled me. 
 
 " There's a great feller just come out on that little barren 
 between the two 'drokes,'" said Jack, pointing to an open 
 space about a mile away. " He's heading for the main woods, 
 and I know his head's big, for I put the glass on it." 
 
 With this assurance I at once " made tracks," and in 
 ten minutes was creeping over a stony knoll to see if the 
 stag was still heading for the same road. For a few
 
 L'Allegro 
 The beginning of the pack 
 
 IL Penseroso 
 The end of the pack
 
 MIGRATION AT MILLAIS'S LAKE 69 
 
 minutes I could see nothing, but on raising myself I saw his 
 broad chocolate-coloured back about loo yards off. He 
 was coming along all right. I lay perfectly still, and allowed 
 him to come mooning along to within ten yards, for I was 
 curious to see how near he would approach. At this dis- 
 tance I could see his big nose, twitching as it scented the 
 spoor of enticing females, and I was so near that I could 
 see his eye " catch " mine as I peeked at him from behind 
 the stone. In an instant his head flew up, and so did my 
 arms with the rifle. I pulled the trigger almost before the 
 weapon touched my shoulder, and immediately the great 
 beast was kicking on his back with a bullet through the 
 neck. 
 
 "Ye didn't need no bullet for that 'un. Ye cud a' cut 
 'un down wid de axe," said a voice behind me. It certainly 
 shows how easily a stag may be obtained sometimes. 
 
 The head was a large one, with unusually fine double 
 shovels in front and big bays, with many points. I do not 
 think points are of the greatest importance in a good caribou 
 head, and few would agree how many points this deer carried. 
 Newfoundlanders count every knob and excrescence, but, 
 following the old Scotch powder-horn test, which I think a 
 very fair one, it had thirty-five tines. This was much the 
 best head I secured, but not the largest. The deer was an 
 old stag, evidently going back, for the tops were poor and 
 almost pointless. 
 
 Having now obtained all the heads we could carry, I 
 decided to leave next day for our standing camp above St. 
 John's Lake, and, in a weak moment, said I could carry 
 the three caribou heads we had just killed, so as to save 
 the men an extra journey. Saunders and Wells each toted 
 about 80 lbs., whilst my load went about 60 lbs., and never
 
 70 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 in my life was I so glad to get rid of anything as that 
 burden when at last we reached our main camp. Skulls 
 and horns are awkward things to carry, even when you 
 are accustomed to packing, but, to an amateur in the 
 business like myself, they seemed at times almost unendur- 
 able. Yet, after a good dinner and a smoke, I carried them 
 on through the timber for another two miles to St. John's 
 Lake, where our canoes were, and paid for it with a sleep- 
 less night. 
 
 Our journey up the Terra-Nova and through the two 
 lakes had been comparatively easy and swift, owing to the 
 beautiful weather and absence of wind. Now, however, we 
 were to experience cold and to face half a gale. We started 
 early on the 27th to pass the St. John's Lake, where, by 
 the way, I saw a beautiful caribou stag moving along the 
 western shore ; but, ere reaching the farther end, it began 
 to blow, and knocked up such a jabble that we were nearly 
 swamped ; one wave nearly filled us, and Saunders and I 
 had to paddle with all our might to reach the shallows in 
 safety. Then we had to unload everything to get the water 
 out, and had hardly started again when another wave came 
 over the side of the little boat. After another bale out, we 
 had to advance with the greatest caution, and then could only 
 make slow progress against the increasing wind. Saunders 
 thought at one time we should have to camp for the day, 
 but by steady paddling we managed to keep on till the 
 last headland of the lake was passed, and the river which 
 joins the lake with Mollygojack came into view. There I went 
 ashore, and walked for a few miles till the men caught me 
 up in the canoes. It was easy water between the two lakes, 
 and we had only to unload twice in passing "rattles," as 
 they called the strong rapids, so we made good progress,
 
 //' 
 
 He Surveys vou with a Look of Intense Disapproval
 
 MIGRATION AT MILLAIS'S LAKE 71 
 
 and by the afternoon reached the point on the Mollygojack 
 where we had camped coming up. 
 
 Saunders was anxious to stop at this point, as he wanted 
 to show me, if possible, the track of an extraordinary caribou 
 stag that haunted this place for several seasons. Dan Burton, 
 Stroud, Saunders, Wells, and Mr. Selous had all seen the 
 track of this wonderful stag, and it was unanimously agreed 
 that nothing like it had ever been seen before by any of 
 them. The spoor was said to be almost as large as that of 
 a moose, so naturally I was most anxious to see it- 
 
 When we arrived at the point, the low state of the lake 
 prevented the heavily-laden canoe from getting near the 
 shore, so Saunders, who wore seal-boots, kindly offered to 
 carry me on his back. It was a well-meant offer, but entirely 
 disastrous. Saunders was a little man and I somewhat large, 
 whilst the bottom of the lake was of slippery mud. The 
 shifting of weight from the boat to the biped also caused 
 a loss of balance, so over the old man's head I dived into 
 three feet of water and two of mud. It was comical but cold, 
 and when Saunders had skilfully retrieved me by the seat 
 of the trousers, we all three sat on the shore and had a 
 good laugh whilst I changed into dry clothes. 
 
 Almost at once we found the track of the great stag ; 
 he had been here not many hours before, as his numerous 
 footprints plainly showed. I certainly never believed a 
 caribou could have made such a track, and went at once 
 for my camera to take a picture. The measurement across 
 the hoof prints was 7f inches, just the span of my out- 
 stretched hand. The fellow who made this spoor must 
 indeed have been a Goliath amongst his species, and I 
 regretted that I had to hurry on to Canada, where Indian 
 guides were waiting, or I should certainly have spent a week
 
 72 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 in this place in the hope of seeing the "muckle hart." That 
 night we slept at the end of Mollygojack, and next day the 
 troubles of the men commenced in earnest. 
 
 I will not enter into details of all the rough work which 
 my guides had to undergo during the next four days. In 
 1 90 1 the river had been lower than it had been known 
 previously, and its passage difficult, but in 1902 it was 50 
 per cent, worse. The river bed was nearly dry save for 
 a rough and stony channel, down which it was impossible 
 to " run " the canoes for fear of staving them in. What 
 was a " rattle " when we came up was now nothing but a 
 series of jagged points of stone with a swift stream running 
 between them. When such were encountered, it was a case 
 of unloading the whole of the stuff, carrying the canoes for 
 a hundred yards, packing the goods and repacking them 
 again. This had to be repeated at intervals dozens of 
 times each day, and the work was extremely arduous and 
 trying to the temper, but not once did I hear my men 
 swear or show themselves put out. I know I was dog- 
 tired myself each night, for, though I did not go into the 
 water as they did, I assisted to the best of my ability in 
 all the " portages," and that was pretty heavy work in itself. 
 
 But everything comes to an end in time, and we at last 
 arrived at the easy water near Penson's Brook, and our 
 troubles came to an end. Here I saw some nice trout rising, 
 and, getting out my rod, I took fourteen trout, char, and 
 ouananiche (land-locked salmon), the latter being still in good 
 condition and delicious eating. 
 
 Next day, after a night of pouring rain, we passed the 
 Terra-Nova Lake after a hard paddle against a head wind, 
 and on a fine evening saw the end of our journey in the 
 shape of the Terra-Nova Station and the trestle bridge.
 
 MIGRATION AT MILLAIS'S LAKE 73 
 
 A small figure was standing on the shore throwing stones 
 into the river, and shouting various nondescript calls as we 
 approached, and I presently saw it was our friend Mike 
 amusing his lonely little self in the only way that was 
 possible. 
 
 After our first greetings, he said, " What you bin gone 
 so long for ? There's a pile o' telegraphin' 'bout you. 
 They think you're lost down in St. John's. But I see 
 you got a heap o' deer." 
 
 "Where's Jack and Tom?" I said, running my eye over 
 the menagerie which frolicked around the little man. 
 
 "A 'sport' went and shot 'em while you was gone," said 
 Mike, turning away. 
 
 "The beast!" was Jack's remark, which entirely echoed 
 our feelings. 
 
 Thus ends one of the pleasantest short journeys I have 
 undertaken — thirty-six days of the best of sport, and the very 
 best of companions. I had enjoyed myself immensely, and 
 returned refreshed in mind and body. 
 
 All of us who are big-game hunters go to a new country 
 hoping to find animals abundant and good heads occasional, 
 and in Newfoundland I had encountered these conditions to 
 the full. 
 
 After paying off my two guides, we sat round the camp 
 fire at night waiting for the accommodation train to arrive. 
 We did not talk much, but I know Saunders was thinking 
 deeply, and wanted to say something nice. At last the old 
 chap began, and we all three felt uncomfortable. 
 
 " D'you know, sir, that Providence is mighty good to us, 
 whiles. Two years ago in the fall, I was 'bout on the rocks, 
 and not knowing where to turn for a few dollars which I 
 wanted particular. Just then I thought I'd struck a lucky.
 
 74 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 for Mr. Watson, in St. John's, who's bin a good fren' to 
 me, gets me to go hunt wid an American who's coming 
 from Port-an-basque, fer de American tells me where to 
 meet him. When a' gets to Port-an-basque, a' waits three 
 days, but de American 'e don't come. A' feels mighty sick 
 at that time a' can tell you, but just when a'm wondering 
 how I can get back to de Bay, a' meets a Bonava's man a' 
 knows, and he says he'll frank me's far's Howley, where a' 
 can shoot two deer, and that'll pay to take us home. Well, 
 we goes to Howley, and first day a' shoot a big stag wi' 
 a forty-pint head, which a' sells to a doctor of St. John's fer 
 fifteen dollars. Then a' felt kind o' better. Same day a' meets 
 Mr. Selous, and he ask me to come up de country wi' him and 
 Stroud. Well, a' wasn't missin' de American particular by then. 
 We has a rough time trampin' the meshes in November, and 
 is too late fer de deer what's gone by, but Mr. Selous he 
 like me, and a' like him, so he ask me to go in wi' him 
 last fall. That was good fer me, for though a' felt sick that 
 American didn't come, now a'm glad he didn't, for a' know 
 there's suthin better comin' my way. And now Mr. Selous 
 has sent me you." And the old man got up silently and 
 shook me by the hand. 
 
 It had been a mighty effort to put things quite in the 
 way he wished, but I doubt if any born courtier could have 
 expressed himself more delicately or with nicer feeling.
 
 Jack. Steering his Canoe down a Shallow 
 
 Results of the First Trip
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 EXPEDITION INTO NEW GROUND UP THE GANDER RIVER 
 
 " Dere's lots o' things in this world wot seems to strike us 
 rough at the time, but which turns out the best in the end," 
 was a frequent remark of my philosophical friend Little 
 Bob ; and with this he addressed me as I met him at the 
 commencement of my second expedition, looking like a 
 scared fox in the mundane wilds of Water Street. Towns 
 were not to the liking of this man o' the woods, and we 
 were discussing the disappointing fact that the steamer for 
 North Labrador had departed on the previous day and 
 would not be back for another month. It was disgusting, 
 to say the least of it, as I had made my preparations care- 
 fully before leaving England, and meant if possible to add 
 the barren-land caribou, of the north-eastern corner of 
 America, to my collection of hunting trophies. 
 
 The loss of a month in the autumn means nothing in 
 some countries, but in North Labrador winter closes down 
 with a sudden snap about the beginning of October, and 
 there you must remain with the Esquimaux till the next 
 summer, if the last boat from the south fails to reach 
 Nain and the north ports. As I had also hoped to hunt 
 again in Newfoundland in the second season, it was clearly 
 the best plan to make one good expedition in that delight- 
 ful country, rather than to try and effect under pressure 
 two shooting trips in the two countries both so wide 
 apart. 
 
 75
 
 76 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 Accordingly Bob Saunders and I retired to my lodgings, 
 and flattened our noses on the map of Newfoundland. 
 
 Experienced hunters always say, " The first trip you go 
 to a new country is for experience, the second you get what 
 you want." This is very true, especially if the hunter him- 
 self is able to make deductions, if he does not mind travelling, 
 and has, like the headmaster, the power of picking capable 
 assistants. In the previous year I had learned something 
 about the general habits of the woodland caribou, and became 
 more and more convinced that during the month of September 
 the big stags keep to themselves in various " putting up " 
 spots situated near the unvisited lakes and rivers of central 
 Newfoundland. When the railway was first made and opened, 
 numbers of splendid stags came out of the north every 
 September, and crossed the line between Bay of Islands and 
 Howley on their autumnal migration. Nowadays, although 
 almost as many deer come, they are chiefly does, so that 
 men, who during these years of plenty were accustomed to 
 go about and shoot these old stags like sheep in a pen, 
 now grumble and say that the patriarchs are shot out. But 
 this is not the case. The animals are not such fools as 
 themselves. They have learnt by hard experience, and have 
 protected themselves by hiding in peace and security in the 
 untrodden forests of the interior, and only migrating in the 
 late fall to the south coast barrens. There I believe they 
 will continue to flourish for centuries to come unless another 
 railway is made, which is not likely to occur. 
 
 The natural conditions, too, of the great sanctuary will in 
 themselves keep this extent of country inviolate, for, in the 
 first place, after the lower reaches of the rivers are passed, 
 there is no timber worth cutting and likely to tempt the 
 cupidity of man. Nor is it possible to reach the interior
 
 'rj-^A^ 
 
 Sandv Ul:tt and Foktv-mne Point Head
 
 EXPEDITION UP THE GANDER RIVER 77 
 
 except with expensive light-draught canoes, and these must 
 be handled by experienced watermen who are not easily 
 discouraged. The average Newfoundland guide likes to do 
 things comfortably, both for himself and the sportsman who 
 employs him, so he is quite content to take his man, or party, 
 and sit about the leads of Howley, Goose Brook, the Gaff 
 Topsails, or Patrick's Marsh. This involves no labour or 
 fatigue, and so abundant are caribou, that three stags apiece 
 may be killed at these places still. But rarely is a good 
 head obtained in this manner. To shoot good heads the 
 hunter must see many, and he can only do so by going far 
 afield. 
 
 These at any rate were the conclusions we came to after 
 carefully surveying the map of Newfoundland. Two rivers 
 seemed to pierce to the very heart of the country, the Bay 
 d'Est and the main branch of the Gander, the longest river in 
 Newfoundland, whose source I afterwards discovered beyond 
 the Partridgeberry Hills, about a hundred miles from the sea. 
 We resolved therefore to adopt this last route, and to travel as 
 far as we could haul the canoes. 
 
 The first thing to be done was to obtain, if possible, 
 some information about the Gander, or the " Nor'- West " 
 Gander as it is more generally called, and for this purpose 
 I went to Mr. W. D. Reid, who on this and subsequent 
 occasions kindly gave me every assistance in his power. It 
 appeared that fifteen miles up the river was a lumber camp 
 worked by the Newfoundland Timber Estates. This industry 
 has mills at Glenwood, on the Newfoundland Railway, and 
 its steamers ply the lake and haul the logs from both the 
 rivers which flow into its waters. Mr. Crowe, the manager 
 of this company, said that practically nothing was known of 
 the main Gander, and that no one had been farther than
 
 78 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 twenty miles up the stream, for at this distance the workable 
 timber ceased. As to the navigability of the river, neither 
 he nor any one else knew anything, but it was thought that 
 "steady" water existed for thirty-five miles to a point where 
 there was a waterfall. Beyond this nothing was known, but 
 as James Howley,^ the geographer, with his two Indians, 
 had reached a point over seventy miles up this river some 
 time in the seventies, I hoped to be able to do the same, 
 and, if the water held good to the Partridgeberry Hills, to 
 portage across to Dog Lake and river system, and work 
 south to Hermitage Bay on the south coast. 
 
 I stayed a week in St. John's with my friend Mr, 
 Hesketh Prichard, who was bound for the Labrador. 
 Waiting to start on an expedition is always tiresome, but 
 our delay on this occasion was made pleasant through the 
 acquaintance of Judge Prowse and other friends. The 
 Judge is certainly one of the most interesting characters in the 
 island, for he was born and educated there, and understands 
 the people of his country as no other man does. He is a 
 man of over seventy, but his vitality and energy are that of 
 a schoolboy. He talked all the time, and I listened, which 
 just suited us both, for one was never tired of listening to 
 characteristic stories of the men of the sea and the woods ; 
 and he can tell his stories with a due appreciation of the 
 humour and pathos of human life. 
 
 The life of a judge in Newfoundland, until he reaches the 
 highest rank, is not one to be envied. He has both to try 
 the case and get up evidence for the prosecution as the 
 
 ' Mr. Howley, in a letter to Mr. Blair, said : " I should not recommend Mr. 
 Millais trying this route. It is too difficult for canoe navigation owing to the 
 scarcity of water in the Gander during the summer season. We were obliged to 
 abandon our own canoes some twenty miles above the Gander Lake after nearly 
 tearing them to pieces, and to proceed on foot the remainder of the journey."
 
 EXPEDITION UP THE GANDER RIVER 79 
 
 procurator-fiscal has to do in Scotland. This involves many 
 long and tedious journeys, often performed in the depth of 
 winter to outlying camps and villages, where evidence is 
 often well-nigh impossible to procure. This severe physical 
 strain year after year had hardly left its mark on the genial 
 old gendeman, who, though he has now retired, is as active 
 as ever. 
 
 I think the reader would have laughed had he seen this 
 Judge of the Supreme Court and myself hunting for the 
 problematical snipe in the wood and marshes one October 
 morning. The Judge, with his hat on the back of his head 
 and a pair of bedroom slippers on his feet ("Ye get wet 
 anyhow, my boy "), jumped over the streams and fences like 
 a two-year-old, working a somewhat wild pointer, and so, 
 whistling and prancing from marsh to marsh, he covered the 
 country in a manner that quite astonished me. Nor shall I 
 forget his charming disregard for appearances, so character- 
 istic of the true sportsman, when he kindly came to see me 
 off by the crowded Sunday train, bearing in one hand a 
 bucket full of potatoes and in the other — whisper it not in 
 the Fly-Fisher's Club, breathe it not in the gun-rooms in 
 the north — a big bag of worms. 
 
 The Judge has told me many excellent stories which I hope 
 he will some day himself give to the world, for his literary 
 abilities are well known on both sides of the Atlantic, his 
 History of Newfoundland being the standard work on the 
 subject. He is just as fond of telling a good story against 
 himself as in his favour. I must venture to narrate one little 
 tale about him, which comes from his own pen, and which 
 was common talk in the up-country camps of the interior. 
 
 " The inception of the railway in Newfoundland met with
 
 80 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 great opposition. The merchants were specially hostile to 
 the new departure ; one old business man used to stand on 
 the head of his wharf, and tell the people how ' a tall gate ' 
 (tollgate) would be placed at the western entrance to St. 
 John's ; every one with a horse and cart would have to pay 
 28. 6d., and whenever the surveyor's tape was passed over 
 their land it was gone from them for ever. In consequence 
 of these stories the people were stirred into a state of frenzy 
 and madness. When the railway surveyors began their work 
 at Topsail, at least five hundred insane men and women 
 followed them about constantly insulting and threatening 
 them. I was sent out with a small body of police to talk 
 to the people, and explain all about the railway. For days 
 and days I sat on the hillside, and told them all about the 
 advantages of the new line. It was all in vain ; I could not 
 overcome their dread of the new and dangerous enterprise. 
 At last one morning they made a murderous assault on the 
 surveyors, took all their instruments, and they had to run for 
 their lives. As soon as I had taken the deposition of these 
 frightened officials, I hurried back to where the crowd were 
 rejoicing over their victory. The leader in the assault on the 
 surveyors was a fisherman farmer called Charley Andrews. 
 We had some difficulty in carrying out his arrest. After he 
 had been conveyed to the city jail, I met him on one of my 
 usual rounds of inspection. 'Well, Charley,' I said, 'how 
 are you getting on ? ' 'I am all for the railway now. 
 Judge.' ' How has that change come over the spirit of 
 your dream?' said I. 'Well,' he answered, 'it was this 
 way. An English sailor chap got drunk and he were put 
 into my cell ; when he wakes in the mornin' he says to me, 
 "Well, old chap, what in the name of heaven brought you 
 here ? " I told 'un it were fer fightin' agen a railway.
 
 A Man's Track — They kind it 
 
 'iiL-¥ .. V^ 
 
 m \ 
 
 A Man's Track — About to go
 
 
 
 •* A* ^T 
 
 ^'~. 
 
 
 
 A Man's Track— Settling Down to their long slinging Trot 
 The Suffragette Leads
 
 EXPEDITION UP THE GANDER RIVER 81 
 
 "What an infernal old bloke you must be," he said, "to do 
 the like o' that. Why, the railway is the poor man's road," 
 and then that sailor chap he up and explained to me all 
 about en, so I'se all for the railway.' ' But, Charley,' I 
 said, ' did I not explain all this to you over and over again ? 
 Did I not tell you all the work it would give the people, 
 how it would bring all the goods to your doors, and quick 
 passages in and out to town ? ' He hung his head in 
 confusion for some time. At last he took a sly glance up 
 at me : ' Yes, J udge, but ive knowed you was paid for sayin 
 dem tings.' " 
 
 On the morning of 7th September I found myself at 
 Glenwood, a small wayside station in the east-central portion 
 of Newfoundland, and here I met Little Bob Saunders, his 
 friend Alexander Butt, commonly called " Sandy," and all 
 the paraphernalia of canoes and provisions. 
 
 A word is perhaps necessary to introduce "Sandy" Butt, 
 as he enters these pages for the first time. He was a strong, 
 dark, loose-jointed fellow, standing about six feet high, whose 
 face bore a chronic expression of supercilious amusement. 
 Nearly everything in this world was to him something in 
 the nature of a joke ; whether it was building camp in the 
 dark or nearly chopping his foot off with the axe, which he 
 did one day, it was all the same to him, and a good subject 
 for whistling. A twinkle never left his eyes, and, like most 
 Newfoundlanders, he was hard-working and good-natured, and 
 never swore, for which I was grateful to him. He came 
 with me ostensibly as "cook," altogether a mistaken raiso7i 
 d'etre, for after the first day on which he made some bread, 
 I lived exclusively on wheatmeal biscuits. Sandy was not 
 the least disconcerted at this insult to his calling, but only
 
 82 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 regarded his efforts at baking as another superb jest, and 
 " something to make the boys laugh down the Bay." But 
 he could handle a canoe, and for twenty-one days in cold 
 water was pulling, hauling, and carefully raising his little boat 
 over the rocks and through the stream, with endless endurance 
 and patience. This was just the sort of man I wanted. 
 
 It is only recently that Newfoundland has awakened to 
 the fact that it possesses considerable mineral and forest 
 wealth. Until ten years ago it imported all the lumber it 
 required. Now it not only supplies its own local needs, but 
 exports 50,000,000 feet annually. Within the past three 
 years Lord Northcliffe and his brothers have acquired 2000 
 square miles of the best timber land in the island in the 
 neighbourhood of the Exploits, Red Indian, and Victoria 
 Lakes. Much opposition, chiefly due to political agitation, 
 was at first brought against the grant, the wildest stories 
 being circulated amongst the fishermen, such as the threat- 
 ened destruction of ancient hunting privileges. Now since 
 the innovation is proving a success and stimulating labour 
 and business, the coming of the Harmsworths is regarded 
 as a blessing. If we except a small area of country in the 
 neighbourhood of Bay d'Espoir, there is only one other good 
 timber district in the island, and that is the Gander country, 
 till recently controlled by the Newfoundland Timber Estates, 
 and now to be worked by an English syndicate, represented 
 by Mr. Reed. 
 
 Newfoundland timber and spruce wood for pulp were 
 booming, so little Glenwood presented a scene of unusual 
 activity. About two hundred and fifty men were employed 
 at the mill ; nearly all Newfoundlanders, with a sprinkling of 
 Canadians, who from their older experience at the logging 
 camps of Ottawa were in a sense regarded as superior. I
 
 EXPEDITION UP THE GANDER RIVER 83 
 
 sat up late in the smoking-room of the little shanty hotel, 
 listening to stories and " lumber " talk. All the men there, 
 about fifteen, were Newfoundlanders, except one, a Canadian 
 from Nova Scotia. He seemed a clever and rather bright 
 youth, and had been evidently indulging his wit at the 
 expense of what he considered the more slow men of the 
 island. At any rate they had clubbed together to sit upon 
 and snub him. An old Newfoundlander was expressing his 
 views about circular saws, when the Canadian boy interrupted 
 and contradicted him flatly. He then began to explain where 
 the Newfoundlander was wrong, when five or six of the 
 islanders attacked him and told him to " shut up or get." 
 Up at Glenwood and other logging camps Newfoundlanders 
 are fond of telling a story against themselves. It is generally 
 given in some such form as the following, a Canadian being 
 the spokesman. 
 
 " Say, boys, I'll tell you a funny dream I had last night. 
 I dreamt I died and went to Hell, which wasn't fair anyway. 
 Old man he met me at the gate, and said he'd jes' show me 
 round. ' See, boy,' he ses, ' you'll notice we got to keep 
 some sort of order down here's well's upstairs. Nations 
 got to be separated jes' same, or else they be a fightin' all 
 the time, an' I wouldn't hev no time to do my roastin'. 
 Those black fellows over there's Spaniards, Them in that 
 corner's Frenchies. That big crowd down yonder's trust 
 magnates an' African millionaires ; those two fine fellows 
 standin' there alone, 'cos they got here by mistake, those 
 are Canadians.' Yet all those unfortunate people were a 
 roastin' an' a sizzlin', and hevin' fearful times. Bimeby we 
 comes to a lot of wretched-lookin' men fastened up to the 
 roof with chains, and underneath them was a small fire of 
 sticks with the smoke a comin' up.
 
 84 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 " ' What's those ? ' I ses. 
 
 "'Well — er,' ses the Devil, a rubbin' his chin, 'those is 
 Newfoundlanders. They're too d — d green to burn, so I'm 
 jes' dryin' them off a bit.' " 
 
 Mr. Whitman, the manager of the Glenwood mills, told 
 me that the large steamer would be at my disposal next 
 morning, so we obtained a trolly, and the men soon pushed 
 the outfit down to the Gander Lake, about a mile and a half 
 away. It was a delightfully hot autumn morning as we 
 steamed slowly down the beautiful lake. 
 
 Gander Lake is one of the largest sheets of water in New- 
 foundland, ^^ miles long. Away to the north stands the fine 
 mountain of Blue Hill, surrounded by dense woods, contain- 
 ing the finest trees in the island. The lake was exceedingly 
 low — so low in fact that even the flat-bottomed steamer had 
 some difficulty in making her way into deep water. 
 
 "Suppose you know every stone in the lake," was my 
 first remark to the captain. 
 
 " Yes, that's one of them," was the reply, as we simul- 
 taneously measured our length on the deck of the steamer. 
 A big rock had caught us when going full speed astern and 
 created this slight diversion. It took about ten minutes of 
 poling and shoving, with engines going full steam ahead, 
 and then we were under weigh again. In four hours we 
 reached the mouth of the North-West River, which debouches 
 into the lake amid a crowd of beautifully-wooded islands, 
 covered with timber, and intersected with channels. Here a 
 Frenchman named Frank de la Barre came aboard, having 
 received instructions to meet me and pilot us up through the 
 islands on the following day. 
 
 Frank had been in the Newfoundland woods for fifteen
 
 EXPEDITION UP THE GxVNDER RIVER 85 
 
 years, and when I shook hands and addressed him in his 
 own language, a multitude of conflicting emotions seemed to 
 sweep across his face. I suppose even my bad French 
 called up a wave of happy memories of days gone by, for 
 at first his expression was one of incredulity, passing to that of 
 unrestrained delight. Then came such a rattle of the southern 
 tongue that I had some difficulty in understanding him. For 
 one dreadful moment I thought he was going to kiss me, so 
 I merely backed away and gave some orders about getting 
 our outfit into the ship's boats, for it was blowing too hard to 
 paddle across the lake to a point where it was necessary to 
 make our base for the start up the river on the following day. 
 
 We spent a comfortable night in the woods, and next 
 morning just as we had all the outfit packed in two canoes, 
 Frank de la Barre and his son turned up to guide us up 
 stream. Our route lay through a winding channel in and 
 out of dozens of small islands, past lovely backwaters which 
 gave peeps like the Thames at Clieveden Woods. Over 
 deep holes and "steadies" we paddled, having to get out 
 and pull the canoes over many sandy bars which only held 
 enough water to float them. In this way we progressed for 
 a couple of hours, when the main stream of the Gander 
 opened itself before us, and seeing that further pilotage was 
 unnecessary I bid good-bye to Frank. 
 
 During the first day's journey we made excellent pro- 
 gress, although the stream was certainly more rapid than 
 we had anticipated ; in fact, it was only for short spells that 
 we could get aboard and paddle. The whole river, about 
 200 yards broad, seemed to hold no deep pools or any ex- 
 cessive rapid. It was almost to its source for eighty miles 
 one level " run " over a comparatively shallow bed. Con- 
 sequently I soon went ashore and walked ahead of the canoes,
 
 86 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 which the men pulled the whole day. On each side was 
 dense forest of good-sized birch, white pine, "haps" (poplars), 
 " vars " (firs), and rowan, which stretched away in unbroken 
 masses to the distant hill-crests, situated about five miles on 
 each side of the river bed. Here and there stood up lonely 
 old leafless giants, 80 to 100 feet high, the relics of bygone 
 " timber " that had been burnt from forty to forty-five years 
 agfo. There seemed to be no fish, for fish do not care for 
 shallow running rivers, and consequently there were no birds 
 to enliven the scene ; so we plodded away steadily till past 
 nightfall, just reaching the woods opposite the lumber camp, 
 where darkness had already fallen. 
 
 The next morning (loth September) a boat passed us, 
 carrying the " boss " of the lumber camp down stream. To 
 our question, he called out that there were no men above 
 the lumber camp, nor was anything known of the river 
 beyond the Great Gull River, about twenty miles up stream. 
 This was satisfactory, for we now hoped to see deer at any 
 moment. However, we plodded all day steadily on without 
 seeing any sign of game, although about sunset I began to 
 see some fresh tracks. 
 
 The following day we encountered a series of small rapids 
 which took the men some time to negotiate, and here I saw 
 the first birds, a flock of twelve old male goosanders, locally 
 called " Gossets," diving and chasing trout in the roughest 
 place. They were all moulting their "pinions" and unable 
 to fly, but rushed up stream over the surface of the water at 
 a surprising rate. 
 
 "Twilliks," too, were plentiful all along the river. The 
 greater yellowshank {Totanus inelanoleucus), locally known as 
 " Twillik," is very common in all the Newfoundland rivers 
 during the summer and autumn. It arrives in May and
 
 EXPEDITION UP THE GANDER RIVER 87 
 
 departs in October, after the breeding season. A regular 
 winter visitor to America and the West Indies, it is there 
 known as the "tell-tale," "tell-tale tattler," "winter yellow- 
 leg," and " stone-snipe." The birds are commonly seen in 
 Newfoundland singly or in small parties of four or five. 
 They love to run about the stones, catching flies, or upon 
 the boggy and sandy shores of the lakes, where their atti- 
 tudes and movements much resemble our native greenshank. 
 I have seen a party on feed sweeping their bills from side 
 to side in the shallow water, after the manner of the avocet, 
 and thus they obtain minute insects. When you approach 
 a small flock they become very noisy, uttering a harsh note, 
 something like the cry of the greenshank, but louder. If 
 " cornered " in the angle of a lake or stream, they run 
 anxiously to and fro, bobbing up and down with their bodies 
 just like the redshank. In the British Isles it has only 
 occurred once, namely at Scilly, in September 1906. 
 
 In the afternoon we came to a place where the sides of 
 the river were broken, low-lying, and full of swamps covered 
 with long grass and alder. So I kept a sharp look-out, 
 sitting down constantly to spy ahead, and pausing to exa- 
 mine the broken leads where stags had been in the habit 
 of breaking down from the forest to the river. I had come 
 to the mouth of the Great Gull River, and the canoes had 
 just caught me up, when, giving a glance across the stream, I 
 saw the white stern of a deer feeding away round the corner 
 of an island. 
 
 Saunders paddled me across the stream, and I landed on 
 the marsh where the animal had disappeared. Walking 
 rapidly up-wind, there was no sign of it, however, so we 
 continued our way up a branch stream, commanding another 
 island containing a dense alder thicket. I was about to
 
 88 NEWFOUXDLAXD 
 
 turn back to the canoes when there was the sound like a 
 stick cracking, and the next moment the top of a caribou 
 stag's horn appeared above the bush about 130 yards away. 
 The next moment it disappeared, though I could now see 
 the line of the animal's back. Another moment and the 
 stag would be gone for ever, so I rested the Mannlicher 
 on the top of Little Bob's head, and let go. The stag instantly 
 plunged forward into view, showing at once that it was hard 
 hit ; I could now see the head and shoulders, so I fired 
 again, and the beast, with a bullet in the neck, immediately 
 fell dead. 
 
 Saunders soon brought the canoes round, and, crossing 
 over the island, we examined our first prize, which proved 
 to be a fair beast of about five years old. Sandy now joined 
 us, and we lost no time in taking the best of the haunch 
 meat, fat, and tongue, and in half-an-hour had continued 
 our journey, feeling very happy, as every hunter does when 
 his camp is well supplied with the food on which men alone 
 can hunt. 
 
 Shortly after passing the park-like scenery on the banks 
 of the Great Gull River, the river narrowed again, and fresh 
 sign of deer — the tracks of big stags only — became more 
 frequent. It was just getting dusk, and I was thinking of 
 stopping to make camp for the night, when I heard the 
 subdued roar of the waterfall about a mile ahead, so we 
 resolved to press on in the dark, reaching a clump of timber 
 close behind the fall itself, and at a spot where portaging 
 would be easy on the following day. 
 
 Taken all round, this was about the most successful trip 
 I ever made, but, just as there are always days in every 
 hunter's life in which everything seems to go wrong and 
 nothing is right, I instance the following as an example of
 
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 EXPEDITION UP THE GANDER RIVER 89 
 
 how ill-luck and a bit of obstinacy may serve to upset what 
 one fondly thinks are correct calculations. The following 
 is copied from my diary : — 
 
 September 12. — Last night it rained in torrents, but the 
 day broke clear and pellucid as a morning in Algiers. I 
 was eating my breakfast when Little Bob, who had been to 
 prospect the fall, came in to say that a short distance up 
 was a beautiful open country on the right bank, and that, 
 while he was looking in that direction, a young stag had 
 come out and crossed the river, going south. It was evidently 
 a pass, so, whilst the men were making a path to carry the 
 outfit and canoes around the fall, I resolved to go and smoke 
 my pipe and watch. 
 
 A series of rocky ledges jutted into the river on the 
 south bank, and on this I lay down, as it commanded an 
 extensive and beautiful view of the landscape — of the open, 
 marshy country rising to the north, and the park-like country 
 adjoining the river to the west. A dense wood of closely 
 packed young spruces occupied the right bank of the river 
 immediately opposite, and this was abruptly divided by a 
 pebbly brook, up which I could plainly see for 500 yards, 
 where it debouched from a broad marsh, a likely-looking 
 spot indeed for game to haunt and to make passes, for they 
 always choose the shortest and easiest routes from one open 
 country to another. 
 
 It was pleasant to sit and watch the morning sunlight 
 creeping along the tops of the forest trees, the dark green 
 banks of spruce, the silvery birches, and over the yellow 
 marshes. A belted kingfisher, with the sun glistening on 
 his slate-blue back, came and contemplated the rushing waters 
 within a few yards of where I lay, and two American goshawks
 
 90 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 soared overhead lazily, or chased one another in clumsy play. 
 The heat of the day had not commenced, and the great grey 
 curtain of midges were still a scattered mass of lethargic 
 life, reposing on the river stones. 
 
 During the warm hours of the day black flies make life 
 a burden to some people, especially to the natives, and to 
 such an extent are their bites felt that many will not venture 
 up the rivers in summer and early autumn. Personally I did 
 not suffer much from their attentions, but I have seen men 
 absolutely driven out of the country by them. In the evening 
 sand-flies and mosquitoes are sometimes almost unbearable, 
 the only relief being obtained by smoking continuously beside 
 a good camp fire. 
 
 With regard to black flies and mosquitoes and their 
 onslaughts on idle persons, a delightful homily with a beauti- 
 ful moral is thus given by Captain Whitbourne (1622). 
 
 "Neither are there any Snakes, Toads, Serpents, or any 
 other venomous Wormes that ever were known to hurt any 
 man in that Country, but onely a very little nimble Fly (the 
 least of all other Flies), which is called a Muskeito ; those 
 Flies seem to have a great power and authority upon all 
 loytering and idle people that come to the New-found-land ; 
 for they have this property that, when they find any such 
 lying lazily, or sleeping in the Woods, they will presently bee 
 more nimble to seize upon them, than any Sargeant will bee 
 to arrest a man for debt ; neither will they leave stinging or 
 sucking out the blood of such sluggards, until, like a Beadle, 
 they bring him to his Master, where he 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 Turks do their slaves." 
 
 Nothing moved, and there was no sound save the roar
 
 EXPEDITION UP THE GANDER RIVER 91 
 
 ot the waterfall below, or the "clinking" of white-winged 
 crossbills passing overhead. 
 
 I looked dreamily through the smoke of my pipe away 
 up stream. All of a sudden some big animal burst from 
 the timber about 500 yards up stream on the north bank. 
 It turned sideways, and I saw that it was a large black bear. 
 With that long, swinging stride so characteristic of the 
 genus, she, for I am sure the beast was a female that had 
 brought forth cubs this summer, advanced rapidly down the 
 river, here about 100 yards broad. The head was held very 
 low, and the legs struck me as being longer and more 
 spindly in proportion to the body than those of other bears 
 I have seen. Every now and then she raised her head, 
 examining the character of the bushes, and once stopped 
 and went up to a small tree, which I afterwards found to 
 be a wild cherry, and clawed down a sprig or two which 
 she munched as she continued the journey down stream. 
 
 All this time the bear was rapidly advancing nearer to 
 me, and I had already chosen the best spot on the other 
 side of the river where I should fire at her. I had a perfect 
 position, my back comfortably tucked in the cranny of a ledge 
 of rock and both legs firmly planted against the asperities 
 of a slate slab. The distance would be just about 100 yards 
 when she came opposite to me, and I was beginning to feel 
 that there would be a certainty of an easy shot. But " the 
 best laid schemes o' mice an' men gang oft agley." I looked 
 up at the oncoming bear, and, to my intense disappointment, 
 saw her suddenly leave the river shore and plunge into the 
 forest. The bank was steep at this point, and it seemed a 
 most unlikely place for a " lead " to exist ; yet, as I after- 
 wards found, there was one there which had been daily used 
 by bears.
 
 92 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 A slender hope now seized me, that the bear might work 
 on through this belt of young spruce and cross the little 
 brook coming down from the open barren. Accordingly, I 
 kept a sharp look-out, and in a few minutes was rewarded 
 by seeing a small willow tree violently agitated about 150 
 yards up the left bank of the stream. It now seemed possible 
 that one might see and get a shot at the bear after all, 
 though not an easy one, as she was likely to cross the brook, 
 on which I could see her plainly. Hardly had I fixed 
 myself into shooting position when she came swiftly down the 
 bank, and at a quick walk entered the shallow stream. At 
 this moment I fired, and saw the bear half flounder on to 
 her side, but instantly recover and dash up the bank again 
 out of sight. She was undoubtedly hard hit, for, had the 
 shot missed, I should have seen the bullet strike the water 
 above or below. 
 
 There was no hurry, for I expected the bear to run a 
 hundred yards or so and fall dead, so I sat down with 
 considerable satisfaction, lit another pipe, and awaited the 
 coming of the men with the first portage loads. In about 
 ten minutes Bob and Sandy appeared, staggering under a 
 weight of provisions. The noise of the waterfall had drowned 
 the sound of the shot, so that their astonishment was great 
 when I told them that I thought I had killed a bear. Whilst 
 explaining the whole story to Saunders and pointing out 
 the spot where Mrs. Bruin had disappeared, suddenly another 
 large bear appeared at the edge of the barren, about 500 
 yards away. It was evidently the mate of the pair, and he 
 walked quietly down in the stream and started to cross into 
 the timber where the wounded one had gone. The shot 
 was nearly a hopeless one, owing to the distance and the 
 fact that I had to stand up to see the object at all. The
 
 EXPEDITION UP THE GANDER RIVER 93 
 
 little bullet, however, went very near, and splashed the water 
 all over Mr. Bear, who got a dreadful fright, and made off 
 with all possible speed. 
 
 Bob Saunders and I now crossed the river, and found the 
 spot where the wounded bear had entered the timber ; indeed 
 there was no mistaking it, for a trail of blood which looked 
 as if it had been poured out of a tea-kettle led away into the 
 densest bush. There was now a possibility of trouble, so I 
 sent Bob back for the other Mannlicher. The young spruce 
 trees were growing so closely together that in many places 
 we had to crawl on our hands and knees, along the actual 
 paths which the bears themselves had made. It was like 
 hunting a flea in a box of matches. In the worst places, if 
 one stood up, it was not possible to force a way ahead. 
 Consequently we had to be careful, as the bear was pro- 
 bably not dead, and we should not see it at a greater distance 
 than 5 or 6 feet. The blood trail itself showed a firm 
 dark line on the bright yellow green moss, so we easily 
 followed it for about 500 yards ; then we came to a round 
 knoll of soft wet moss, which plainly told its tale. The 
 wounded bear had just been lying here, and we had moved 
 her. There was the imprinted mark of her whole left flank 
 and the bullet exit hole mark, where the blood had flowed 
 freely. The poor beast was hit right through the lungs, and 
 the bullet, a solid one with the nose well filled, had not 
 sufficiently expanded. Immediately the bear had risen to run 
 from us the blood had ceased to flow. I suppose that the 
 cold wet moss must have staunched the wound, for the blood 
 marks ceased. We threshed around for ten minutes or so, 
 could find no further trail, for the soft paw of the plantigrade 
 leaves no spoor on moss, and then sat down to deplore our 
 ill-luck.
 
 94 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 What would I not have oriven for a httle Norwes^ian elk- 
 hound at that moment. The bear may have gone a mile 
 or two, or she may have been lying dead within a hundred 
 yards of us ; at any rate we were now incapable of following 
 her, so reluctantly we fought our way back to the river, and 
 tried to make as light of the loss as possible. 
 
 The black bear is still fairly numerous in the unfrequented 
 parts of Newfoundland, but every year sees a diminution in 
 their numbers owing to the attacks of the Indians. In 1822 
 Cormack describes them as abundant, and speaks of the 
 numerous "bear-roads" which he found in all parts of the 
 interior. Now such paths are rarely seen. Every year in 
 the month of September the Indians repair to the high look- 
 outs, and watch the open tracts of country covered with 
 blueberry patches. Here they spy, stalk, and shoot the bears 
 which come to feed at dawn and sunset. In this manner 
 they kill from three to nine bears apiece, and few escape 
 except those which live almost exclusively in the forests. In 
 years when berries are scarce, many bears repair to the edge 
 of the salt water and feed on caplin and fish refuse. Some- 
 times they attack the farmers' sheep, and I know of one 
 instance in which a bear swam a mile to an island in Fortune 
 Bay, and killed twenty-five sheep in a single night. They are 
 slow and poor swimmers, and the Esquimaux of Labrador go 
 so far as to say that they cannot swim at all. But this is 
 incorrect. About the end of April the black bear emerges 
 from its winter retreat in some rocky cave or old tree stump, 
 and commences to feed on roots and leaves of various trees. 
 In May the female brings forth her two young ones, and 
 tends them carefully until the autumn, when they shift for 
 themselves. They keep closely to the woods until July, when
 
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 EXPEDITION UP THE GANDER RIVER 95 
 
 the berries are ripe, and feed on these until the middle of 
 October. At the first frosts, however, they leave this food, 
 which is now falling from the bushes, and go in search of 
 the carcases of deer, scenting them from a great distance. 
 In October, too, they ascend the rowan trees to a consider- 
 able height, breaking off the branches containing the fruit, 
 and sliding down the trunk with the skill of an acrobat. I 
 have seen several trees scored by the marks of their claws 
 as they descended at top speed. The Indians have told me 
 that when the bear is hungry he often grabs greedily at the 
 rowan berries, and, losing his balance, falls with a thud to 
 the ground. Whereupon he shouts with pain and mortifica- 
 tion, and, finding that no bones are broken, sulkily ascends 
 the tree again. John Hinx has seen a bear fall twice out of 
 a high tree, and shot him as he was climbing the third time. 
 Like the fox, they are exceedingly careful when approaching 
 a carcase for the first time (as I shall presently describe), 
 but after they have had a meal of it, will advance boldly up- 
 wind. A few are killed by the Indians in the " deadfall," but 
 bears are so cunning in Newfoundland that they are not 
 often captured in this fashion. Their mischievous habit of 
 wrecking a camp or tilt is well known, and few travellers in 
 the interior have not suffered from their unwelcome visits. 
 
 When the black bear enters a tilt or wigwam, it opens 
 and scatters everything within, whilst it has a curious habit 
 of never departing by the way of entry, preferring to scrape 
 a hole in the side of the shelter by way of exit. Sometimes 
 it tears the whole place to pieces out of pure wickedness. 
 
 Steve Bernard carried a sack of flour and all his stores 
 and ammunition to his log tilt on Jubilee Lake in the autumn 
 of 1902, and then repaired to the coast to see the priest. 
 When he returned, the whole tilt, including fir logs weighing
 
 96 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 several hundred pounds, were scattered through the woods, 
 and not a dollar's worth of the outfit remained. Two bears 
 were the aggressors, and so cunning were they that the 
 trapper completely failed to shoot or trap them. One man 
 I know of, after losing all his stores, had his canoe bitten to 
 pieces. 
 
 About the middle of November the black bear chooses a dry 
 spot in which to hibernate. If the winter is mild, he comes 
 out again for a short time, but the first heavy snowfall drives 
 him again into his sleeping apartment, the entrance of which 
 he closes carefully with moss and leaves. These retreats are 
 but rarely found even by the Indians, who are always in the 
 woods. A good skin is worth about ^5, and the length 
 seldom exceeds 6 feet. Joe Jeddore killed a large dog bear 
 near Burnt Hill in 1901, which measured 7 feet 6 inches, and 
 doubtless specimens even bigger than this have occurred in 
 the island, but I can obtain no reliable records. In the 
 autumn they are very fat, and the meat and grease are 
 much appreciated, both by the red men and the white. If 
 ordinary precautions are taken, these animals are not in the 
 least dangerous, and the few accidents which have occurred 
 were entirely due to carelessness on the part of the hunters. 
 It is not safe, however, to fire at a bear when the animal is 
 very close on a hillside above the shooter, because when 
 receiving a mortal wound the bear always rushes blindly down 
 hill, and then seizes with its teeth the first object that comes 
 in its way. All bears do this. I once shot at a very big 
 grizzly, and the first thing it did was to demolish a small tree 
 standing near by. Charges by bears, described by youthful 
 hunters with hair-raising sensationalism, are seldom charges 
 at all, for the poor bear receiving the shot rushes madly in 
 any direction, and in doing so, it may run on the top of you.
 
 Six Heads Killed on the Gander, September 1903
 
 EXPEDITION UP THE GANDER RIVER 97 
 
 In the old records of Newfoundland we read that the white 
 Polar bear was a regfular winter visitor to the coast in the seven- 
 teenth century. Since then its appearance became rarer as time 
 went on. Until 1825, a few were always found on the ice off 
 White Bay by the spring sealers, and an odd one killed on the 
 shore, but now it can only be recorded as very scarce. A 
 Newfoundland lady, who was present at the following incident, 
 has told me that twenty-five years ago the inhabitants of the 
 village of Wittlebay were coming out of church one Sunday 
 morning, when they were startled by seeing an immense 
 Polar bear strolling down the hill close to the church door. 
 There were no guns at hand, so four men bravely attacked 
 it with axes and killed it. A dispute as to the possession 
 of the hide arising, the skin was cut into four pieces, and 
 may be seen in certain houses of the village to this day. 
 A propos of this strange method of division, which has always 
 been in force in Newfoundland, I am reminded of a true 
 incident which occurred about eighty years ago in Fortune 
 Bay, when the disgraceful practice of " wrecking " was by no 
 means extinct. A barque which had been lured on to the 
 rocks by false lights, placed there by some good Christian 
 belonging to a certain village which shall be nameless, had 
 on board a cottage piano, an instrument which neither of the 
 boat's crews which claimed it had ever seen before. The 
 matter was, however, eventually settled by its being sawn in 
 two pieces, one party taking the treble and the other the bass. 
 
 Wrecking as a profitable industry ceased to flourish in 
 Newfoundland about fifty years ago, "in the dear delightful 
 days of Arcadian simplicity, when port wine was a shilling 
 a bottle, and the colony had no debt." The Newfoundland 
 Government had much difficulty in stamping it out, owing to 
 the fact that the people of the south coast had indulged in 
 
 G
 
 98 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 the nefarious practice for centuries, and could with difficulty 
 be persuaded that they were doing anything that was not 
 perfectly legitimate. Whatever came ashore as the flotsam 
 and jetsam of the ocean was theirs by right, so they con- 
 sidered, and many cases of a shocking character were dealt 
 with by Judge Prowse, who was sent to enforce the law. 
 
 " Seafaring people," he says, " look upon wrecks as their 
 lawful prizes, gifts sent to them direct by Providence, and 
 their views about these fatalities were characteristic. Mostly 
 the vessels contained valuable cargoes, but occasionally it was 
 otherwise. 1 heard an old Irishwoman declare about one 
 'wrack,' 'I don't know what God Almighty is thinking 
 about, sending us a terrible bad fishery, and then an old 
 Norwegian brig full of nothing but rocks.' 
 
 "In one instance I was sent to look after a very bad 
 case of absolute piracy. The fishermen attacked the master 
 and crew whilst their schooner was ashore, cut her masts, 
 and forcibly took away all her gear and stores. I had to 
 put up at the principal settler's house in this little cove. I 
 well knew all were implicated in the wreck. They asked 
 me to go in and see the mistress of the house, an old 
 woman suffering from asthma. After I had told her of 
 some remedies, she gasped out, ' Oh, why did they come 
 so near the shore ? Oh, why did they come so near the 
 shore to timpt the poor peoples ? ' 
 
 " Wrecking cases always gave me capital sport, as they 
 all happened in very out-of-the-way places, where there 
 were very good grouse-moors. I once shot a whole covey 
 of a dozen birds with the police, witnesses, and prisoners 
 acting as beaters and markers. The grouse were scattered 
 and rose in pairs. I had to swing round each time to shoot 
 the second bird. The last killed was a very long shot, and
 
 EXPEDITION UP THE GANDER RIVER 99 
 
 it fell into a crevice of the rock ; one of the prisoners, a 
 long, slim fellow, was lowered down by the heels to recover 
 it. All the accused and witnesses in the case were keen 
 hunters. I knew right well that if I had made a bad shot, 
 neither my legal acumen nor sound judgment would have 
 won their appreciation half as much as straight shooting."' 
 
 But we have wandered away to the south coast, and 
 must return to the Gander. 
 
 Looking up the river from the lower fall of the Gander 
 was, I think, one of the most beautiful landscapes that I 
 have seen in my expeditions in Newfoundland. The rocks 
 in the foreground were of the most lovely colour, a rich 
 blue grey. Over these poured masses of amber water of 
 pellucid clearness. Little brooks and shining barrens peeping 
 out from amidst the dark forest on the right bank, led the 
 eye away up to distant hills of the most intense blue, whilst 
 in the middle distance, away up the glistening river, were 
 islands covered with the finest "haps" (poplars) in New- 
 foundland, every leaf a-quiver in the blazing sun. On the 
 left bank the land rose in rugged and distorted shapes, and 
 was all covered with a medley of golden birch and scarlet 
 rowan, and trees standing clear against a brown mass of 
 tall " vars," and spruces in whose depths the glints of sun- 
 light mixed with the purple shadows. Yet all this hetero- 
 geneous mass of colour seemed to blend, for nature makes 
 no mistake with her paints, whilst for once the composition 
 of the picture was perfect and worthier of a more skilful 
 brush than mine. " Rolling Falls " of the Gander is such 
 a subject as only a great artist could do justice to. 
 
 About two miles up the river was another small water- 
 fall, not so heavy as the lower one, but nevertheless neces- 
 
 ' Cornhill Magazine, April 1904.
 
 100 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 sitating a portage of the whole of the outfit. Here we saw 
 some salmon jumping, which showed that the lower fall offered 
 no bar to the progress of fish. After a hearty meal in the 
 blazing sun, we resumed our journey up continuous "rattles" 
 of water, through which the men made excellent progress, 
 in spite of the fact that the rocks were covered with "slob," 
 i.e. a green slimy weed. 
 
 We were now in quite virgin country, where the foot of 
 the only two white men had ever trodden, once when Howley 
 made his survey of the river with two Indians, some time 
 in the seventies, and Mr. Willis in October 1901, and again 
 when Mr. Willis went there on a prospecting trip. There 
 was not a sign that Indians had ever been here ; not an 
 axe mark was seen on the trees above this, and we were 
 far beyond the ken of the "White-Ends." The Indians, 
 too, would never come here except for beaver, and of beaver 
 there were none in the main stream. I experienced, there- 
 fore, the delight that every hunter feels in knowing that 
 he has no neighbours except the deer and the bears, and 
 that at any minute he may strike a new country, the veri- 
 table home of the mighty antlered monarchs, and such a 
 sanctuary as the first travellers in the Rockies and South 
 Africa discovered. In a minor form I did discover such a 
 sportsman's paradise, for I do not suppose any previous 
 traveller in Newfoundland ever cast his eyes on so many 
 fine caribou stags in a short time, as I was fortunate enough 
 to do during the next fortnight. 
 
 The bear incident was not the only unlucky event of 
 this day, September 12. I must follow out its incidents 
 with full confession to the setting of the sun. I had travelled 
 on about a mile ahead of the boats, and was keeping a sharp 
 look-out ahead, as well as on the many fresh tracks of big
 
 
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 EXPEDITION UP THE GANDER RIVER 101 
 
 stags that were imprinted wherever there was sand betwixt 
 the stones. About 4 p.m. I came to a broad sweep of the 
 river, where a fine view expanded itself. Opposite to me 
 was a large wooded island — " Twillik " Island the Indians 
 call it — with shallows at its bend, and just a likely-looking 
 crossing-place for stags. So I sat down and slapped con- 
 tinuously at the black flies and mosquitoes, which were very 
 troublesome. Opposite was a backwater beyond the island. 
 There was much grass, bog bean, and alder there, and a 
 good place for a stag to " shove out," so I had more than 
 one chance to see game. Half-an-hour went by, and the 
 canoes had just reached me as I stood up to resume the 
 journey, when, looking across the backwater, I saw a grand 
 stag emerge from the woods and begin to feed without 
 concern. I immediately sat down and got ready to fire. 
 The distance seemed about 250 yards, for the beast looked 
 large, and I felt I could hit him. First shot, a miss. The 
 stag raised his head and looked about. I could not see 
 where the bullet struck ; took again a full sight, and fired. 
 The stag stepped forward evidently untouched. I fired again 
 — same result. 
 
 " What distance are you shootin' at? " said Bob hurriedly. 
 
 "Two hundred and fifty yards," I replied laconically. 
 
 " He's four hundred if he's a yard," replied Saunders. 
 
 •' He's not," I said obstinately, and fired again without 
 result. The stag now ran along the marsh looking for his 
 "lead" in the forest. Presently he found it, and I let go 
 the last cartridge in the magazine as he disappeared from 
 view. 
 
 I stood up, feeling annoyed, as I was quite steady when 
 making the shots. Immediately I came to my feet I saw 
 that Bob was right, and that I had far under-estimated the
 
 102 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 distance. Across the river was at least two hundred yards, 
 and from thence to the forest edge was as far again. 
 I acknowledged my mistake, and humbled myself before 
 Saunders, whose powers of judging distances over two 
 hundred yards were usually at fault. This time, however, 
 he had been quite right. The stag seemed to carry a very 
 fine head, but then they always do when they get away. 
 
 We travelled on for a mile or two, and then camped 
 for the night on a steep bank of larch, and the night 
 closed in with heavy rain, which put a finishing touch to 
 this unfortunate day.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 A HUNTER'S PARADISE 
 
 The next day being Sunday, we rested, and on Monday, 14th 
 September, continued up stream, the men being" greatly 
 hampered by the shallowness of the water, the "slobby" 
 rocks, and a somewhat tempestuous head-wind. Saunders 
 fell in up to his neck four times during the morning, but 
 the day was not cold, so we worked on five miles to the 
 mouth of Migwell's Brook, a small stream that enters the 
 Gander on the north bank about fifty miles from the 
 lake. 
 
 I was about two miles ahead of the canoes, and sat 
 behind a large rock. It was blowing half a gale, and the 
 time being midday, I hardly expected to see game. As the 
 wind swayed and rocked the forest at my back, one became 
 accustomed to the crackle and brush of twig upon twig and 
 bough against bough, but somehow more than once I could 
 not help thinking that I heard dry wood " snapping " when 
 there was a lull. The inner consciousness of doubt soon 
 resolved itself into a certainty that some large animal was 
 breaking down a tree close beside me, so I dropped my book, 
 cocked the rifle, and looked over the high bank just as 
 wild cherry was violently shaken almost in my face. 
 
 " Now, Mr. Bruin, I have you at last," I said to myself, 
 in the excitement of the moment. But it was not a bear 
 after all, but a great caribou stag, with horns evidently on 
 the decline, staring me in the face at a distance of about six 
 
 103
 
 104 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 yards. I have never been so near a wild deer before, and 
 he backed away from the cherry tree before deciding to 
 make a bolt of it. One moment we both stood still and 
 stared at one another, and having mutually decided that 
 our heads were unnecessary, he gave a plunge and was gone. 
 The stag had hardly vanished when a tinkle of falling stones 
 made me look to the left, and there I saw another good-sized 
 stag carrying about thirty points, walking leisurely along the 
 open stones away from me. He gave me one proud glance, 
 ran a few steps, and then settled to a walk, at which pace 
 he continued till lost to sight round a bend in the river. 
 He was a fine young stag of perhaps five years, but the tops 
 were unfinished, wherefore not deemed good enough in new 
 ground like this. I followed the track of this stag some 
 little distance, and it led me north to low sandy hills and 
 into a beautiful broken country, all leads, marshes, opens, and 
 clumps of spruces, just the place for "summering" stags. 
 I saw, too, five or six small larches newly " stripped," where 
 stags had cleaned their horns recently, so when the men 
 came up I decided to stop a day and hunt. 
 
 The sun was low as Saunders and I left the camp. 
 Glancing up the stream from the point of Migwell's Brook, 
 we at once noticed two young stags come from a lead on 
 the north bank, and across the river. Everything seemed 
 to show that we were now in a great stag country. The 
 does had all passed on out to the open marshes to the south, 
 and the old males would remain here solitary or in pairs for 
 at least another fortnight, before they, too, would follow, 
 and seek them in the open marshes of the high country. 
 
 We crept noiselessly up the sandy hills till we came to 
 a hillock rising higher than the rest. Here I ascended a 
 larch, and spied the surrounding country for a mile or two.
 
 A HUNTER'S PARADISE 105 
 
 Much of it was very " blind," but towards the river there 
 were many open spaces and little hills where game might be 
 viewed. The sun was already setting when we decided to 
 move on a little farther before returning, as a dip, fringed 
 by large trees, hid the course of the brook, and many of the 
 leads trended northwards along the waterside, always a 
 favourite walk for deer. We had hardly rounded the first 
 hillock when I perceived the white stern of a large stag on 
 another little hill about one hundred yards away. The 
 beast was feeding quietly, so I got out the telescope and 
 examined him. 
 
 "He seems to have a lot of points. Bob," I said, "but 
 horns look thin." At this moment the stag raised his noble 
 head to chew the cud, and I had a good side view of it. 
 That movement decided his fate. An instant later I sat 
 with my back to a tree, and put two bullets into him. At 
 the first he never winced, although a mortal blow, but on 
 receiving the second he rolled over quite dead. As I rose 
 to my feet a movement on another hillock to the right 
 caught my eye, and immediately a second stag, nearly, but 
 not quite so good as the first, stepped into full view. The 
 glass was soon surveying his cranial ornaments, which, though 
 carrying about thirty points, looked thin, whilst the " bays " 
 were poor, so he was allowed to depart. He gave a " whoof " 
 of terror as soon as I rose, and, erecting the hair of his scut, 
 dashed off at full gallop. This was the third time on the 
 same day that I had seen two stags together, which shows 
 the disposition of the male caribou for society during his 
 period of summer seclusion. 
 
 We now walked up to our first warrantable prize, which 
 proved to carry a better head than I had at first thought. 
 The horns were not heavy, but carried thirty-five points.
 
 106 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 and all set in those beautiful wild curves that go to make 
 up a really good head. He had good double front shovels 
 prettily interlocked, and very handsome wild " tops " to the 
 horns, containing several extra straggly points, which add so 
 much to the beauty of any head. At any rate I felt pleased 
 with our first trophy, and it was with light hearts we re- 
 turned to camp, where Bob at once set to work to skin, 
 whilst Sandy prepared an excellent supper. 
 
 Next day Bob and I wandered far to the north, getting 
 into some abominable ground, from which it took us some 
 hours to extricate ourselves. The farther we went from the 
 river and Migwell's Brook, the less sign of deer was notice- 
 able, and the worse the timber became. Just as we left 
 camp we saw two stags, but their heads were of no account, 
 and in the evening two more crossed the river and came 
 walking by the camp not more than fifty yards away. One 
 of these was a regular old patriarch. His horns were 
 narrowed to mere thin spires, and I believe he was partly 
 deaf, for it was not till I had thrown two stones at him, 
 and then warmed him up with a swan shot from my catapult, 
 that he condescended to take any notice of me. Many of 
 these stags which I now saw had probably never seen 
 man before, for on several occasions, when the wind was 
 right, one could take surprising liberties with them, without 
 their seeming alarmed. Never in my life did I regret the 
 loss of a camera so much as during the next fortnight. 
 In the hurry of packing I had left it at the station at Glen- 
 wood, and it was not till I returned there that it came in for 
 any use. During our absence Sandy said that a stag with 
 a fair head walked by the camp between him and the river, 
 a distance of fourteen yards. The unsuspecting animal had 
 stopped a moment to observe our cook peeling potatoes, and
 
 A HUNTER'S PARADISE 107 
 
 had then resumed his journey down stream without altering 
 his pace from a walk. 
 
 It may seem to the reader, if he only knows a little 
 about big-game hunting, that to shoot such tame animals 
 is almost devoid of sport, and in many cases he would be 
 right in the case of the caribou. It is the other chances 
 that produce the necessity of quick decision, with long and 
 sometimes difficult shots, which make the chase of the caribou 
 a fascinating one. The object of the hunter in new ground 
 where game is abundant is naturally to secure the best heads, 
 and an exceptional trophy may sometimes be obtained in 
 the easiest manner. On the other hand, I had several times 
 seen a stag rush out of the forest with a clatter of stones, 
 scamper into the river as if in fun, stand a minute or two 
 in the stream and drink, and then gallop or swim across 
 to the farther bank, where he will only glance round for a 
 second before disappearing for good up some lead. They 
 are not frightened, but are perhaps in a hurry to reach 
 some favourite feeding ground in a secluded glade back 
 from the river. In such a case you may be five to eight 
 hundred yards from the stag when you first view him, and 
 have to strain every muscle to run that four or five hundred 
 yards which brings you within a long shot. Then, tem- 
 porarily blown, you must sit at once to take your shot, and 
 have no time to hunt out a good position. The wind may 
 be wrong, or the stag may just walk to the water's edge, 
 drink for a second or two, and then turn again into the 
 forest. During these few minutes, too, you must have 
 your glass handy to see whether his head is good enough 
 (and I do not know any deer whose horns are so difiicult 
 to judge in a short period of sight. Sometimes at one 
 angle they look splendid, and at another quite poor, so
 
 108 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 you are torn with conflicting emotions in those few minutes 
 of intense activity and excitement). This form of the chase, 
 which 1 may appropriately call " river-hunting," offers both 
 the easiest and the most difficult chances at deer. In the 
 open marshes the caribou stag is generally at your mercy. 
 You have time to circumvent him and to lay your plans. 
 If you are anything of a shot and take care not to walk 
 about too much, or give him the wind, he is yours. But 
 by the river it is different. The stag appears ; you must 
 shoot at once or run like a hare to get into range, for 
 he may disappear at any second, and generally, too, your 
 shot is taken at the wrong end of the beast, though that is 
 not of much moment, as in the old days of inferior rifles. 
 
 The following morning, 15th September, we continued 
 to ascend the Gander. A strong head-wind was blowing, 
 and the men experienced much difficulty in keeping on 
 their feet and preventing our frail craft from breaking. I 
 walked on for about five miles, and then sat down to spy 
 as the country suddenly opened up, and I saw, for the 
 first time since leaving the lake, a high, open, sparsely- 
 wooded country. The men with the canoes arrived about 
 midday, and, just as Bob came opposite to me, he slipped 
 off a stone and fell in over his neck. 
 
 "This is my lucky day," he said philosophically; "only 
 been in twice this morning." 
 
 We sat down to dinner on the bank, and, after much 
 wrangling, I got him to change his clothes, which he did 
 with many protests. Little Bob had half "shifted" when, 
 it seems, he was overcome with curiosity as to the exceed- 
 ingly "gamy-looking" nature of the mountain opposite, so, 
 without saying a word, he captured my telescope, which he 
 had now come to use with some success, and slipped off
 
 Eley Brass Cartridges Chewed by Black Bears 
 
 Sandy Butt at Work
 
 A HUNTER'S PARADISE 109 
 
 in the bushes. Like a good man he had gone to spy the 
 hill from the only point it could be properly seen, namely, 
 to the marsh on the north bank. In one minute he came 
 running back, saying — 
 
 " Dare's a great lump of a stag above us, 'bout 300 feet." 
 
 There was only one way up on to this high ground, and 
 that was up a well-worn caribou path, which seemed to lead 
 directly down-wind to the point where Saunders said the 
 stag was feeding. The wind was strong, and inclined to 
 shoot our taint upwards, as I found on trying it with tobacco 
 smoke. Nevertheless we decided to chance it. 
 
 The path itself was beaten down with fresh tracks cross- 
 ing a hillside marsh. Then it became suddenly dry and 
 stony, and we wound up on to a tiny plateau with small 
 clumps of birch. 
 
 "'Twas 'bout here he was when I seen him," was Bob's 
 remark, scarcely emitted than a loud rattle of stones pro- 
 claimed that the stag was started. Fortunately, he galloped 
 up the hill and then alongside it, giving me a full broadside. 
 I had time to see his head was large and sufficiently good, 
 without many points ; then, standing up to see him properly, 
 I put the first bullet through his right horn. The chamber 
 was immediately opened and closed, and I got in my second 
 shot just as he was tearing into a droke of birch. The 
 little missile went true, breaking both shoulders ; the stag 
 performed a complete somersault like a shot rabbit, and 
 was nearly dead when we came up to him. 
 
 There was one thing remarkable about this deer, and that 
 was his great size ; and Saunders, who was well qualified to 
 speak on the subject, said he was the largest caribou stag 
 he had ever seen in his life. An immense brute, nearly as 
 big as a wapiti, it took all our efforts to turn him over in
 
 110 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 the place where he lay, and had we the space to have 
 carried the complete skin, I should certainly have brought it 
 home for the museum. 
 
 Whilst Bob was attending to the head skin, I took the 
 telescope to view the magnificent panorama that now spread 
 itself before me. 
 
 At our feet, glittering in the sunlight, was the Blue 
 Gander, and up this beautiful river, so like our Tay in 
 Scotland, one could see for four or five miles to the entrance 
 of Little Gull River away to the west. At the back rose 
 the mountains known as Serpentine Hill, of some 800 or 
 900 feet elevation, and spread out below, though gradually 
 rising away to the north, was a succession of woods and 
 open marshes, on any of which there was a good chance of 
 seeing the great white-necked stag or a black bear. 
 
 Bob had scarcely commenced his work, and I had not 
 even begun to use the glass, for the prospect of the scene 
 was in itself delightful, when looking down I saw another 
 big caribou stag come out of the woods and walk quickly 
 across a wide open marsh about half a mile below. One 
 word to Bob was enough, and at a jog trot we set off 
 downhill, passing through two small belts of timber and a 
 mountain stream. Half the distance was overcome when it 
 was deemed necessary to view the position of our quarry. 
 Yes, there he was, right in the centre of the swamp, and 
 either feeding or drinking, for his head was down. There 
 was no particular hurry, so we advanced easily, and presently 
 found ourselves overlooking the open marsh. Now there was 
 nothing left but a good old-fashioned crawl with the cold 
 water running in at your collar stud and out at your boots. 
 This I did by myself till I reached a point within 200 yards 
 from the stag, where seeing him so quiet I turned round and
 
 A HUNTER'S PARADISE 111 
 
 signalled to Bob so that we could discuss his respective 
 merits. After examining the ground carefully I saw first that 
 by making a flanking manoeuvre I could probably come in 
 again on the deer and reach a small island of bush, with a 
 stunted larch in the centre, and should then be within 
 loo yards of the stag. This required care, as we had to 
 cross an open of about 20 yards within view of the deer, 
 but old Roman-nose seemed absorbed in a brown study, so 
 this insult to his sight and intelligence was unnoticed, and 
 we reached the desired haven. 
 
 But what was the old fellow doing? His attitude in- 
 dicated utter misery and woe. His head hung down, and 
 ears flopped forwards like a sick donkey. He never moved 
 from his position of dejection for ten minutes except once, 
 when he lowered his nose into the marsh, and I could see 
 him suck up the peat and muddy water. Now I had it : he 
 was love-sick and taking in this stimulant to cool his passion. 
 I daresay the reader, if he has killed deer in Scotland in 
 October, will have noticed that certain stags when gralloched 
 have nothing in their stomach but a peaty fluid. This is 
 probably their only nutriment when in full rut, as the stag 
 does not feed at this season, and seems to live for a week or 
 two on his own previous condition. So, too, this old caribou 
 stag must have been doing exactly the same, for when I cut 
 him up I found nothing but this fluid in his stomach. It is 
 probably a general habit of the whole genus Cervidce during 
 the season of love and war. 
 
 We looked his head over very carefully. Brows fair, 
 bays very good and strong, tops very moderate. I hesitated, 
 and had decided to spare his life, as I hoped to get better. 
 
 "You'll have to shoot him," said Bob; "he is very good, 
 and a've seen many a season when a' should have been
 
 112 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 pleased if a' brought out a head like that from the Terra- 
 Nova country." 
 
 Still I thought it best to spare him. "Whistle him up, 
 Bob," I said; "we'll see what he looks like when he holds 
 his head up." My companion whistled once, twice, and then 
 gave a shout. Ye Gods ! what a sudden change from the 
 listless donkey to the alert king of the forest. His head was 
 up in the air now, and he looked totally different ; a fine 
 heavy head, and certainly worth possessing. As I raised 
 the rifle he bolted at full gallop straight away, and I made 
 a very lucky shot as he fled in full career, the bullet enter- 
 ing at the back of his head and causing instant death. He 
 fell so suddenly and with such force that he smashed the 
 lower jaw to pieces and buried the antlers out of sight in 
 the marsh, from which we had to unearth them. Like the 
 other stag this was a very big old beast with a good 
 massive head of thirty-two points. The work of cutting up 
 the deer and preserving the head would occupy some time, 
 so I accompanied Saunders back to camp, and then spent 
 the evening spying from the hillside. 
 
 Just before sunset I saw a fine stag about a mile away 
 across the river. I could see he had grand tops and very 
 thick horns. He wandered into a thick forest, but the time 
 being too late to go for him I returned to camp. 
 
 We were, however, destined to meet later.
 
 «■— ^-^s— -^^^^z:^-^-- ■ - -?' ' 1i '7:>. % 
 
 '-f-x
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 HUNTING ON THE UPPER GANDER AND RETURN TO GLENWOOD 
 
 My water babies both worked hard that night, Bob attending 
 to the head skins and Sandy cleaning the skulls, so that 
 next day we were able to make an extended expedition to 
 the unexplored country to the south. About an hour's 
 walk brought us to the summit, and the weather being 
 delightfully warm and clear, we could see some ten miles 
 in every direction. To the west a long silver streak 
 embayed in forest disclosed a lake about four miles long 
 running north and south, but whether Little Gull River 
 flows through and out of this sheet of water I am unable 
 to say, as I had no time to follow the river, which at its 
 junction with the Gander is fully as large as the more 
 important stream.^ Beyond Little Gull River, and to the 
 north, the country was once more blind and dense, which 
 was something in the nature of a disappointment, as we 
 had hoped to find it similar in character to our present 
 surroundings. On reaching the summit of the southern hills, 
 over which large numbers of female caribou had recently 
 passed, we came within view of typical Newfoundland high 
 ground scenery — an endless succession of small and large 
 lakes, marshes, and scattered timber, all of which pointed 
 east and west. The climb to the summit had entailed some 
 exertion, though the going was good, so we sat and admired 
 
 ' I afterwards found that the lake, which I named, was joined to the Little Gull 
 by a brook. 
 
 113 H
 
 114 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 the scenery till an exclamation from Sandy, and the direction 
 of his gaze, caused us to turn our eyes towards a large open 
 marsh about half a mile below. There was a white-neck 
 stepping out proudly like Macgregor on his native heath. 
 He seemed to carry fine horns, so Saunders and I made 
 all haste to head him for a nearer inspection. 
 
 This was not quite so easy as it looked, for the stag 
 was walking down-wind very fast and had already a con- 
 siderable start. Moreover, a small forest rose about a 
 quarter of a mile in front of the deer, and for this he was 
 making to lie up for the day. We had to run, and run 
 fast, over the worst kind of bog, into which we frequently 
 sank to our middles ; but, on the other hand, the chase 
 lay downhill, and this was a distinct advantage to us. 
 When we came within 400 yards of the stag I saw him 
 looking about uneasily, so told Bob to sit and await my 
 return, and, making an effort, ran right past and headed 
 him. The sun was playing upon him, and I saw by his 
 alert carriage and quick movement that he was not quite 
 adult. His head, too, which looked fine from above, now 
 underwent a considerable reduction on closer inspection. 
 The brows and the bays were first class, but he carried 
 only a snag on the left brow and the tops were short and 
 undeveloped, so I let him pass by unmolested. 
 
 After this diversion we tramped for the whole day to 
 examine the country to the south. The farther we travelled 
 the worse the going became, till at last walking became a 
 considerable effort. It was some time, in fact, before we 
 could get back to the high and dry ground, from which 
 we could alternately spy and cook our dinner ; but nothing 
 more was seen, so we returned to camp feeling that a hard 
 day's work had been accomplished.
 
 HUNTING ON THE UPPER GANDER 115 
 
 The next day, Friday, September 17, was rather an inter- 
 esting one, because I killed a fine stag through a seemingly 
 trivial piece of observation ; and to show that in caribou 
 hunting a man's ears are often as important as his eyes, 
 I will s^ive the circumstances. 
 
 It was an exquisite autumn morning, clear as crystal, 
 and not a breath of wind stirring; a few golden birch 
 leaves, early forerunners of coming decay, were floating 
 down the river, and up on the hillside you could hear the 
 jays whistling and talking to one another about the excel- 
 lent food supply they had discovered. The great white- 
 headed eagle passed overhead, coming from some of the 
 fish lakes of the interior, and a belated osprey (who must 
 have found fishing for his dinner in the shallows of the 
 Gander a laborious necessity) circled round the camp. 
 According to my usual custom, I started up stream soon 
 after daybreak, leaving the men to follow when the canoes 
 were packed. 
 
 Not one of the least important things in this form of 
 still-hunting is to sit down frequently and, with senses alert, 
 to interpret the manifold signs of nature— in fact, to sit and 
 listen. After going for a mile, I found on the north bank 
 the regular crossing-place of a big stag. Evidently, too, it 
 had used the same spot to traverse the river morning and 
 evening for the past two months, for the indentations showed 
 a curious physical defect in one of the right fore hoofs, 
 which was unusually elongated and bent inwards. That old 
 fellow had been across the river about an hour before my 
 advent. Thqre was discoloured water in his spoor, and close 
 alongside fresh droppings. So I sat down and listened. 
 
 The grey curtain of midges arose to float in a mazy dance 
 in the sun. The black flies, though losing their vicious-
 
 116 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 ness, nevertheless attended to me personally ; a few scattered 
 ouananiche rose at the floating insects, and far away down 
 the stream I could see my "wet bobs" lugging, drawing, 
 and pushing their handy little craft against the swiftly- 
 flowing stream. It was delightful to sit and smoke, and 
 enjoy the charming dolce far niente laziness of basking in 
 the sun, and wondering whether the good people in Sussex 
 were still shivering under umbrellas and mackintoshes, as 
 they had been doing during May, June, July, and August 
 in the year of grace 1903. One or two of my friends had 
 even cast eyes of pity upon me for coming to those "dreadful 
 Arctic regions," as they fondly imagined Newfoundland to be. 
 
 And yet how different it was. How nice to lie on the 
 moss amidst the sun-warmed stones where thoughts were 
 singing rivers and the dews of morning shone, and to listen 
 for the bumping of the canoes round the bend. 
 
 But pleasurable thoughts and the contemplated enjoyment 
 of ten minutes of that masterpiece, " The Experiences of an 
 Irish R.M.," were abruptly terminated by the breaking of a 
 small stick two hundred yards away on the far bank. I 
 only just heard it, it was almost a sound striking one's inner 
 consciousness, yet when a man has hunted all kinds of birds 
 and beasts, as I have done for years, the mind is soon alive 
 to natural explanations and quick to read them. It might 
 have been caused by some small mammal, but except the 
 varying hare, an ermine, or a small vole, there are no small 
 beasts to speak of in the country. A bird would not 
 have done it, or the sound would be quickly repeated. So 
 I listened attentively. Yes, there it was again. This time 
 unmistakable — the gradual crushing break of some large 
 animal treading on dry wood. 
 
 The river was rather deep on the far side, so I had to
 
 HUNTING ON THE UPPER GANDER 117 
 
 wait a quarter of an hour before Saunders came, and a ferry 
 over became possible. Then telling the men to wait and not 
 to make a sound, I climbed the bank, took off my boots, 
 and crept into the dense timber. 
 
 At the very spot from whence the sounds had proceeded 
 was the fresh track of old Curly Toe. He had trodden on 
 a piece of rotten pine, the evidence of which was designated 
 in scattered chips. I advanced as quickly as possible, fearful 
 almost of placing my feet on the ground, for the stag was 
 nearly certain to be within a hundred yards of me in that 
 " droke " of spruce and alder. The track was easy to follow, 
 and I made it out for three or four hundred yards going 
 hillwards. Then I made a cast back, and stumbled on the 
 home of the stag, scores of beds beaten hard and dry, with 
 piles of old and fresh manure all around. There was one 
 bed full of hairs that looked as if the stag had just sprung 
 from it, and had been scared, for several pebbles of wet 
 dung lay therein, often the sure sign of deer suddenly scared. 
 I was looking at this, stooping down, when my ear caught 
 the tinkle of stones being moved, followed by a subdued 
 splash. My men I knew were too well trained to create this 
 disturbance, so guessing its cause I rushed belter - skelter 
 through the opposing stems towards the river. As I burst 
 through the last alders I saw the stag looking about, very 
 frightened, and standing up to his knees in the river about 
 a hundred yards away. To fall into a sitting position was 
 the work of an instant — good tops and thick horns at once 
 decided that — and as the deer swung round to go I fired. 
 The bullet took him about five inches too far back. Then off 
 he went, full gallop, clattering up the shallows of the river, 
 and sending the spray flying in all directions. I had a better 
 shooting position than such a hurried seat usually offers, and
 
 118 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 so when I let go the next two shots, I had the satisfaction 
 of seeing them both strike the flying deer. One went through 
 his side, and the last raked him from end to end ; so he 
 stopped, floundered forward in the river, and was dead by 
 the time I reached him. I looked upon the capture of this 
 fine head as the result of simple reasoning, though Saunders 
 regarded the affair in a somewhat more exaggerated fashion. 
 Had I not heard that first gentle crack, led up to by the 
 sight of those hoof-prints, old Curly Toe and his antlers 
 would probably still be dodging backwards and forwards 
 along the narrow leads of the Upper Gander. 
 
 This was without doubt the stag with the fine tops which 
 I had spied late in the evening two days previously, and he 
 must only just have returned to his lair when so rudely 
 disturbed. The horns were not large, but very massive, and 
 the head one of high quality, with thirty points. 
 
 At midday we decided to camp, as the country to the 
 north seemed fairly open and worth a visit. As the canoes 
 came to a halt, and we prepared to relieve them of their 
 contents, a large stag came out on to the river bank, and 
 stood surveying us within sixty yards. His horns were long 
 and with few points, which accounted for the lack of evil 
 intention on our part, so after a prolonged stare he swung 
 round and disappeared in the forest again. In the afternoon 
 a long tramp through a dense country resulted in nothing, 
 and we returned to camp just in time to see two fine stags 
 cross the river about a quarter of a mile below. 
 
 It was plain that real difficulties with the canoes had now 
 commenced. Nothing but basswood, and that of the finest 
 quality, would have withstood the bumping and hauling over 
 sharp rocks that these little boats had undergone. Both were 
 well " shaved," and the new one had swollen and burst
 
 Diamond Cut Diamond
 
 HUNTING ON THE UPPER GANDER 119 
 
 slightly at the bottom. With every care, they would not hold 
 out long unless the river offered some "steady" water, and 
 this it showed no signs of doing, but rather became shallower 
 at every mile. There was now no part in the whole stream 
 that would take a man above the knees, and the river was 
 not narrowing ; it was still about 1 20 yards wide, the same 
 as twenty miles below. 
 
 The autumn of 1902 had been an exceptionally dry 
 season, but that of 1903 was infinitely drier, and quite ruined 
 my original project, which was to reach a point beyond the 
 Partridgeberry Hills, portage our stuff across to Dog Lake 
 River, thence on to the Big Lake river system of Round, Brazil, 
 Long Lakes, down through Bale d'Est to Bale d'Espoir, 
 where I could have got a boat from the Indians to take me 
 to the weekly steamer which calls in Hermitage Bay, and 
 so eventually to St. John's. Only one man has yet accom- 
 plished this journey, and if we had had water above Burnt 
 Hill I think we should also have carried it out. 
 
 On the morning of i8th September, the men were in 
 constant difficulties ; one of the boats would catch on a sharp 
 upright rock or narrow stony bar, and had either to be 
 forcibly hauled over or some of the contents had to be taken 
 out, portaged a few yards, and then replaced. It was slow, 
 toilsome work for the men and disappointing, as I had now 
 little chance of reaching the Partridgeberry Hills. By mid- 
 day we had only accomplished three miles, having started 
 soon after daybreak, and the Great Gander, which looks so 
 important on the map at the inflow of the Little Gull River, 
 was nothing more than a broad flat bank of stones, with a 
 little water trickling through them. Little Gull River, where 
 we stopped to have dinner, joins the Gander sixty miles 
 from the lake and seventy-five from the sea. It is a much
 
 120 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 more important river than its marking on the map would 
 indicate, for it brings down as much water as the main 
 branch of the Gander does from the west. 
 
 The afternoon was glorious, so I walked ahead about 
 two miles, and saw much fresh sign of big stags about the 
 river bank. Leads came from the north, and after joining 
 the river pointed due south in many places, and the whole 
 country seemed to indicate that we were in the heart of the 
 main trails. In one place they were particularly abundant, 
 the dry timber on the bank slopes being beaten to dust by 
 the tramp of many feet. I sat down here to enjoy the sun 
 and " A Double Thread," keeping the while a desultory look- 
 out, for it was as yet a bit too early for any of the old 
 fellows to be up and stirring. Still you never know when 
 a stag is going to appear, and they often do so at the most 
 unexpected moments. 
 
 The canoes had just reached me, and I rose to resume 
 the journey, when, looking up the river, I saw a stag walking 
 swiftly out of the stream on the far side, and looking about 
 for a path into the forest. It was hopeless to think of 
 approaching a yard nearer, and he was a good 250 yards 
 away. Instant decision was imperative, and as I could see 
 that his tops were good, I sat down against a stone and put 
 up my rifle just as he put his head into the forest. I fired, 
 and distinctly saw the splash of the bullet on a patch of sand 
 an inch above his back. He never winced, but his head 
 and shoulders were now in the forest, and in another second 
 he would disappear for ever. Taking the sight a trifle 
 lower, I pulled again, and he came staggering down the 
 bank, swayed for an instant or two, and plunged forwards 
 into the river, into which he fell quite dead. 
 
 The head was not large, but carried a great number of
 
 HUNTING ON THE UPPER GANDER 121 
 
 small points, many of which were so doubtful that it was 
 difficult to say what their precise number was, although 
 thirty-eight fulfilled the old watch-guard test. 
 
 After working on up stream for about three miles, the 
 river suddenly became quite hopeless from the boatman's 
 point of view. It was nothing but a bed of stones, and the 
 men said they could proceed no farther without portaging. 
 One of the canoes was full of water, and would stand but 
 little more rough handling, so we decided to camp for the 
 night and explore ahead on foot. A nice dry camping- 
 ground was found on a steep hillside amongst a group of 
 pines, and here Bob and Sandy set to work to cut supports 
 for the lean-to, when, looking down the river, I saw a magni- 
 ficent stag crossing it about a quarter of a mile below. He 
 seemed to carry a fine set of horns, and marched up out of 
 the water looking the picture of proud defiance, whilst his 
 snowy neck and pendant ruffle shone like a star against the 
 dark green undergrowth of the forest. In a moment he 
 found his "lead" and disappeared, whilst I ran as hard as 
 I could to try and catch him in a follow-on chase. 
 
 In a few minutes I turned in at his well-beaten road, 
 took up his spoor through the pine belt and on out to some 
 semi-open country, composed of hard, dry, quartzy hills. Here 
 I lost it, and climbed a high larch, which led to no better 
 results, and so in the dark, feeling very footsore — for I had 
 no boots on, having taken them off as soon as we halted — 
 I made my way back to camp. Perhaps the supposition 
 was unwarranted, but only natural as the stag got away ; 
 yet for several evenings I cherished the idea that that stag 
 was unusually fine. 
 
 An exploration of the river for eight miles ahead dis- 
 closed the fact that we were on the edge of " Burnt " country,
 
 122 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 which probably continued as far as the Partridgeberry Hills. 
 About twelve miles up stream, on the left bank, rose the 
 mountain marked in the map as Burnt Hill, seventy miles 
 from the lake and eighty-five from the sea. This marks the 
 farthest point reached by us, progress by means of the canoes 
 being now impossible. In a moderately wet season there 
 would be no difficulty in going much farther, but the drought 
 had effectually stopped us, and we could do nothing more 
 but pack ahead, which I had no wish to do. I only intended 
 to kill one more stag, and that I hoped to get near my 
 present camp. Evening came on, and I strolled up the river 
 to meet Bob, who had gone on ahead. After waiting some 
 time the shadows increased, and soon it would be too dark 
 to see a deer, so I rose and tramped home. Turning the 
 last corner I saw a stag crossing a shallow about 200 yards 
 above my camp, and Sandy standing up black and prominent 
 in front of the camp fire, lost in admiration. Having no wish 
 to slay my excellent helper, I waited till the deer had moved 
 half-way across the river, and I had time to thoroughly exa- 
 mine his head. It was a grand one, with splendid tops. The 
 stag was a good 300 yards away, and I dared not approach 
 nearer, as what wind there was blew straight down stream. 
 A long rock with a ridge afforded a comfortable place to lie 
 upon for the shot, and my coat a suitable rest, so raising 
 the rifle I found I could scarcely see the foresight. Putting 
 it under the deer which was now standing broadside, I raised 
 it slowly and pulled ; the bullet went over his back perhaps 
 an inch or two ; at the second shot the same thing happened, 
 and the stag moved fast for the far bank. As he walked I 
 fired again a little lower, this time with success. The ball 
 reached him, passed through his neck, and he simply lay 
 down in the river-bed without other movement.
 
 
 Side View of Forty-four Point Head Shot ox the Upper Gander, 
 
 September 1903 
 
 0*i^'"> 
 
 . . _^f 
 
 The Fokxy-mne Pointer as he Fell
 
 HUNTING ON THE UPPER GANDER 123 
 
 The sight of this little episode was one of intense excite- 
 ment to Sandy, who had watched the whole scene from the 
 appearance of the stag opposite the camp. He had gazed 
 upon it at about 60 yards distance, was prepared to swear 
 to me on my return that he had seen the greatest stag that 
 ever breathed, and was just becoming heart-broken as it 
 walked away, when he saw me come round the bend of the 
 river, "put three guns at 'um, and take 'um down." 
 
 On the death of the stag the excitable Sandy was to be 
 seen rushing wildly out of the woods into the river, waving 
 in one hand his somewhat dilapidated hat and brandishing 
 in the other a huge knife, which followed every occupation, 
 from cutting trees to opening tin cans. Sandy took the 
 river with sportsmanlike enthusiasm, and was speedily at 
 work taking off the stag's head, haunches, and rump fat. 
 
 This stag carried the first exceptional head which I had 
 killed in Newfoundland. It was 42 inches long, and had 
 very heavy "tops," with long points. The brows were each 
 fully developed and of large size, and the whole head bore 
 forty-four clearly defined points — a very unusual number. 
 The only weak part was his bays or middle palms. 
 
 It was pitch dark when Sandy had finished his cold 
 task, and we sat long admiring the beautiful horns, com- 
 paring it with others, and waiting for Little Bob. That 
 individual turned up by-and-by, and, after a hearty supper 
 and the head was skinned, we turned in just as the rain 
 came down in torrents. During the night my faith in the 
 excellence of the Newfoundland lean-to received a rude 
 shock. The method of shelter with front open to the 
 blazing logs is certainly brighter, warmer, and more cheerful 
 than any tent, provided there is no heavy rain, and that the 
 wind does not shift. If such unfortunate things occur there
 
 124 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 is nothing left but to get up in the middle of the night, 
 rebuild camp in a fresh place, get wet through, and try to 
 be as amiable as possible. On this occasion we were all too 
 tired or sleepy to move, so we lay awake and let the rain 
 come in upon us. My reindeer bag was soon soaked, so I 
 put on my ulster and spent a miserable night in the utter- 
 most corner of the cover sheet. The men also allowed 
 themselves to be soaked, but that being the chronic con- 
 dition of these human seals, they regarded the circumstances 
 without comment. 
 
 The morning broke still and fine as usual, and at very 
 early breakfast we had a pow-wow as to the best course to 
 pursue. I had shot six fine heads, and had no desire to kill 
 any more deer. The main object of my journey had been 
 accomplished, so I decided to return. This was not quite so 
 easy as it sounds, for in spite of last night's rain the river 
 had fallen a foot since we had come to this camp. Never- 
 theless the men said they thought we could get out if the 
 camp and canoes were portaged a mile down stream and 
 over the worst of the stone banks. 
 
 It took all day to get as far as Little Gull River, and 
 then when Little Bob appeared his face was long and aspect 
 gloomy. 
 
 " One of the boats is completely bust up and t'other's 
 cracked, and unless you shoot two more deer to lace the 
 worst one in we'll never get down unless we build a raft and 
 wait for the rain," he said. 
 
 " How far can you get the boats to-night ? " I said. 
 
 " Perhaps another mile," he said ; " but it's bale and 
 shove all the time, and killing work." 
 
 I had no intention of waiting a fortnight or three weeks 
 for rain and rafts, so decided to hunt about and kill two
 
 HUNTING ON THE UPPER GANDER 125 
 
 more stags as soon as possible. Nor was opportunity long 
 deferred. 
 
 About half a mile below Little Gull River was an open 
 stretch of the stream. To the eye it now looked just like a 
 mass of pebbles, but the accession of the two rivers meeting 
 had helped the Gander a bit, and there was a narrow thread 
 of water about ten or twelve inches deep percolating through 
 the stones. I sat down on the bank watching for a stag to 
 appear down stream. There seemed little enough chance of 
 killing one, as the wind was blowing hard towards the only 
 likely part, and both evening and the rain were close at 
 hand. It was already late, and I was about to walk up 
 stream to see if any further accident had happened, when, 
 taking one final glance towards the east, I saw a stag in the 
 act of crossing the river about 800 yards away. He was 
 gingerly picking his way through the stones of the river, and 
 I could not understand how it was he did not get my wind. 
 It seemed to be blowing directly towards him, and yet, as I 
 afterwards found, must have been forced upwards after going 
 for a hundred yards or so. 
 
 Strange things happen in stalking, and the vagaries of 
 air are amongst the most curious. More than once I have 
 succeeded in getting within shot of an animal by hard 
 running and by simply relying on its being too confused to 
 make out the object of attack. No other course was open, 
 so I resolved to try it now. I ran as hard as I could, 
 keeping my eye all the time fixed on the stag so as to 
 know the exact moment he " had " me, and I should lie 
 down and open fire — 600, 500, 400, 300 yards — this was 
 incomprehensible. At this distance I plainly saw the ripples 
 of water going almost direct to the stag, which had now 
 landed on a point and was feeding away stern-on. The
 
 126 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 river bank here bent inwards, and if I crossed in its "bay" 
 the stag nmst get my wind, so I resolved to lie down 
 and fire. 
 
 The stag was outlined against the water — always a good 
 mark for the shooter, for he sees at once whether he has 
 fired too low or too high. The bullet must have grazed his 
 back, for he sharply raised his noble head and stopped feeding, 
 whilst I saw the projectile flick up the stream in almost 
 a direct line. A little lower, bang ! The stag flinched, 
 turned round towards me, and hobbled a few paces up 
 stream. I now saw for the first time that he had a great 
 head, which is a bad thing for a man to know when he 
 greatly desires to slay a beast. I had broken his left hind 
 leg, high up, so having now the exact range I prepared to 
 give him another shot. At that moment he started, and, like 
 nearly all wounded animals, made up-wind as hard as his 
 three legs could carry him. Then it was that I thanked my 
 stars I had not tried to go nearer to him at the first chance, 
 for he came full tilt up the shore, almost towards me, and 
 up the " bay " of the stream to my left. By a fortunate 
 circumstance the river bank was here very steep, and though 
 he kept watching for an opening as he ran, I saw he would 
 come fairly close to me if I lay still, and so reserved my 
 fire. About a hundred yards away a broad opening appeared 
 in the bank, and here the grand fellow stopped, turned 
 slightly, and was about to spring upwards into the bush, when 
 I fired again, and he at once lay struggling on the stones 
 with a bullet through the upper part of the neck. His fine 
 horns were swaying from side to side as I ran up, and I 
 stood contemplating what is in some respects the best head 
 I have ever shot. 
 
 It is hardly necessary to say much about the head of an
 
 HUNTING ON THE UPPER GANDER 127 
 
 animal whose portrait is given here, taken from various ' 
 angles. It is enough to say that I had secured a perfect 
 head of forty-nine points, the brows in particular being extra- 
 ordinary. In his long experience Saunders said that he had 
 never seen a more perfect caribou head, and that it was 
 equal in quality to the head killed by Selous two years 
 previously ; although not quite so large in the beam as that 
 head, the brows and bays are considerably finer. It is not 
 often that a sportsman has secured two "great" heads in 
 one season, and so I was grateful for the necessity that had 
 compelled me to shoot this last stag. Had not the canoe 
 broken down he would certainly have been left alone. 
 
 The men took about two hours doing the last mile from 
 Little Gull River to where the fallen stag lay. It was 
 becoming dark and threatening to rain, so, having no 
 camera, I got out my sketch-book and made a rapid outline 
 of the fallen monarch as he lay. Before I had finished 
 heavy drops began to fall, so we made camp as quickly as 
 possible, and had just got the shelter spread and a blazing 
 birch fire started when the storm burst upon us. 
 
 The rain fell in torrents till midnight, when it suddenly 
 ceased. Such a downfall, though severe, made little differ- 
 ence to the river, as the whole country was so parched that 
 it would require two days of such rain to fill the burns and 
 marshes, and so affect the main stream. All the next day 
 (21st September) the men toiled down the river, and at dusk 
 reached the Serpentine Hill, where, on the hills above, I 
 had killed the two large stags. There was still about an 
 hour of daylight left, so I went up the hill on the chance 
 of finding a bear at the first carcase, immediately above our 
 old camp. In the dusk I crept slowly forward through the 
 bushes, and waited for some minutes to see if there was any
 
 128 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 movement. But nothing stirred, so I advanced to find that 
 the remains of the first stag had been carried by bears about 
 twenty yards up the hill. 
 
 From a ridge about fifty yards up the hill I could see 
 the marsh and the remains of the other deer, about half a 
 mile below to the east. The telescope showed that the carcase 
 was untouched, and in the same position as that in which 
 we had left it. I sat some time after the sun had sunk, 
 and was just thinking of returning to camp when my eye 
 detected a black spot to the right of the marsh, away in the 
 valley below. The glass lay beside me, and as I raised it 
 the dark object, a large bear, suddenly moved and galloped 
 out into the open. At first I thought something must have 
 scared him — he lolloped along so steadily and with such 
 decision. Presently he took a turn, and I saw that he was 
 circling round the carcase of the dead stag, to see if any one 
 had been there recently. Twice he stopped, stood up on his 
 hind legs, and tried the wind. Then he again dropped on 
 the fore-paws and resumed his lumbering gait. The black 
 bear gallops in a most peculiar manner. He looks like some 
 ridiculous pantomime animal playing the buffoon. Nearly 
 all large creatures hold the head and neck out or up in 
 accelerated locomotion, but the black bear, which is the only 
 member of the genus I have seen actually gallop, puts his 
 head down and swings it clumsily from side to side as if he 
 were enjoying some huge joke. Presently Mr. Bruin stopped 
 and remained motionless for two or three minutes directly 
 down-wind from the carcase. I think he was enjoying the 
 delicious prospect of a hearty meal, and wondering whether 
 it would be safe to approach. Then just as I thought it 
 time to be making my approach, he set off" on another circuit 
 of inspection.
 
 Forty-nine Point Head Shot near Little Gull River, September 1903
 
 HUNTING ON THE UPPER GANDER 129 
 
 By the time I had passed the intervening woods, and had 
 begun to creep cautiously down a depression in the marsh, 
 the bear was still lumbering around about 400 yards away, 
 and far on the other side of the dead deer. My position 
 was clearly near enough to the carcase, for if the animal 
 chose to make another circuit of the prospective dinner, 
 he would doubdess come within easy shot. Accordingly I 
 sat down behind a small larch and waited. At the same 
 moment the bear approached his dinner, walking slowly and 
 with evident apprehension. He was clearly of much cunning, 
 or had at some time or another been greatly scared. I felt 
 certain of an easy shot, however, and had settled myself 
 in a good shooting position, when he suddenly stopped at 
 about 200 yards distant, whipped round, and made off 
 again as hard as his legs would carry him. There was a 
 moment of doubt, and I did the wrong thing, which was 
 to fire as he galloped away. A single moment of reflection 
 would have tolH me that his fright was only simulated, and 
 that he was only going for another final gallop, but I stupidly 
 thought he was off for good, and so pressed the trigger and 
 missed. He dashed round a small clump of trees, and then 
 I saw him going over the marsh at his best pace for half a 
 mile until he entered the northern woods and disappeared. 
 It is easy to be wise after the event, but I shall know better 
 next time. 
 
 September 22. — All day down through the worst kind 
 of rocks. Till now the men have been pulling, hauling, 
 and buffeting with the stoniest stream for a fortnight, with 
 only one day's rest, and I had heard no complaints, but now, 
 just before we reached Migwell's Brook, I found Bob, who 
 had been long delayed, standing over his charge, sunk to
 
 130 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 the bottom of a small hole in the river, and smiling sadly 
 as he waved the frying-pan in his hand. 
 
 "Guess this yer old thing (indicating his extempore baler) 
 ain't much more use! 'less I bale out de whole stream, and 
 that ain't surprisin' difficult now," he added, contemplating 
 the shoal of rocks. 
 
 " Well," I suggested, " let us pack the stuff down to 
 Migwell's Brook, and we will try and do a mend with the 
 stag's skin and a biscuit tin." It was dusk as we reached 
 our destination. Moving the water-logged goods and heads 
 was no light task, but it was finished just as the sun set. 
 
 On our way up stream we had left the dried fat of two 
 stags hanging on a tree at the Migwell's Brook camp. I 
 had also placed out of reach a wooden box containing lOO 
 Eley's brass shot cartridges. Knowing that bears were 
 common round here, we thought that these things would be 
 safe from their attentions, but such was not the case. The 
 first thing that met our gaze was the broken cartridge box 
 lying on the ground, and its contents scattered all over the 
 camp. About twenty of the cartridges had actually been 
 chewed and half-eaten by the bears, doubtless for the ex- 
 traction of the grease-laden wads covering the powder, and 
 the marks of their teeth were plainly indented on the outer 
 coverings (see photograph). It was a curious diet in truth, 
 for brass cartridges are not mentioned amongst the food of 
 these omnivorous beasts. The results miorht have been even 
 more interesting had our visitors bitten into the " cap " ends 
 of the cartridges. 
 
 During the evening Saunders and I " tailed " a gun and 
 a Mannlicher for the bears, but without result. 
 
 Next morning we spent in mending up the broken canoes. 
 A Huntley and Palmer biscuit tin was flattened out and nailed
 
 HUNTING ON THE UPPER GANDER 131 
 
 over the break, into which, after removing the flooring, we 
 poured about a pound of melted deer's fat. Saunders said 
 that we could not utilise the skin until we had another, as the 
 two must be laced together, and one was of no use. Accord- 
 ingly I set out about midday, and made about four miles, when 
 I reached the spot where I had missed the stag coming up 
 the river. The view on either side was wide, and two well- 
 used crossing places led across the stream within easy running 
 distance. The afternoon passed away, and nothing appeared, 
 not even the canoes, for on this day the rocks broke the 
 strongest of the two boats and caused endless delays ; so I 
 took a book out of my pocket and was soon lost with Rider 
 Haggard in the heart of Africa. In a country so peaceful, 
 so still as the land of the northern forests, one is quick to 
 recognise the slightest noise. That remarkable woman "She" 
 was about to drink again the fires of eternal life, and her 
 speech at this exciting moment simply grips the reader, for 
 it is the best thing in a remarkable work. Yet it was in 
 no spirit of disappointment that I dropped the book softly 
 on the stones at my side — for had I not heard some pebbles 
 roll down the bank on the far side of the river ? I looked 
 up, and there was a large brown doe coming down to drink. 
 For a female she carried remarkable horns, about as large 
 as the specimen I had killed in the previous year, and with 
 thirteen good points. She entered the stream exactly oppo- 
 site to the rock beside which I was seated, and, after drinking, 
 marched slowly across the river towards me. It was a good 
 opportunity for the camera. The sun was upon her, and 
 I knew she would cross close to me, but the camera was 
 far away at Glenwood. I lay under the shadow of the rock, 
 and she came right on to within six yards, looking inquisi- 
 tively at me as I crouched there with my arm in front of my
 
 132 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 face. Then she took a pace or two up stream, shook her 
 head, ran a couple of yards, pretending to be frightened, and 
 then seeing the fearsome object did not move, came back 
 and smelt her way forwards. She was within three yards 
 now, but working two yards to the right down stream, at 
 once got the wind, and went off, sending the water flying in 
 all directions. In two minutes she was out of sight, and I 
 could hear her breaking through the forest up to the hills. 
 
 In another minute I resumed my book, and had hardly 
 done so, when the sound of dropping water caused me to 
 turn my head sharply and look up stream. There stood 
 a very large stag, in the act of drinking, about lOO 
 yards away. The sudden movement of turning to grasp 
 my rifle did not escape his eye, and at once he was in a 
 position of tense alertness. Slowly I put the bead on his 
 heart and pressed the trigger. He scarcely winced, but, 
 jumping out on to the stones, dashed away at full gallop. I 
 was about to fire again, when it occurred to me that my shot 
 was a fatal one, because he was going just a bit too fast 
 for an unwounded beast. This conjecture was strengthened 
 when I saw him shaking his head, a sure sign of a fatal 
 blow. The next instant he wheeled round suddenly towards 
 the river, and running along a ledge of rocks, bounded into 
 the air, and fell dead in the stream. 
 
 So rapid was his descent into the river and blind the 
 final plunge, that he broke his shovel, knocking off five points, 
 as well as smashing his skull and lower jaw. A noble fellow 
 with a massive head, but without many points. When the 
 men came, we took his entire skin and head, and as much 
 meat as we could carry, and made camp. 
 
 This ended our hunting for the year, and perhaps the 
 most successful shooting trip I have engaged in. It took
 
 RETURN TO GLENWOOD 133 
 
 four days more before we reached the mouth of the Gander ; 
 but after passing the waterfalls the difficulties with the canoes 
 ceased, for we reached water sufficiently deep to run the 
 boats and their loads with care and safety. On the evening 
 of the 27th a happy circumstance seemed to have brought the 
 steamer to the mouth of the river, for she had not been there 
 since she had brought us, so we got aboard, and next morning 
 reached Glenwood and the railway line. Here I recovered 
 my camera, and took a few photos of the heads, paid off Bob 
 and Sandy, who had well earned their wages and a bit more. 
 Better men to go anywhere, and turn their hands to anything, 
 I have not found. Both had worked with untiring patience in 
 cold water for twenty days, and would have been quite keen 
 to " pack " on for another twenty had I wished them to do so. 
 
 The food provided by the Glenwood HoteP was so bad 
 that, after spending an unhappy hour there wrestling with some 
 flaccid liquor named by courtesy tea, and a piece of chewed 
 string, which at some remote period might have been a rabbit, 
 I returned to my camp and had a simple yet clean dinner. 
 
 Travellers at some of these remote hostelries have only 
 one idea in the world, and that is to get away from them 
 as quickly as possible. An untruthful but humorous story 
 tells of an unfortunate "drummer" — and "drummers" can 
 stand most things — who, after partaking of two meals, 
 decided to end his life. He lay down on the metals a 
 minute or two before the express was due. After waiting 
 for two days and catching a severe cold, he was reluctantly 
 compelled to give up the idea of suicide, and is now instituting 
 a claim for compensation against the railway company for 
 the unpunctuality of their trains. 
 
 ' I am speaking of the Glenwood Hotel of 1903. It has, I believe, twice 
 changed hands since then.
 
 134 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 Once upon a time there was a monarch whose kingdom 
 was torn by dissensions, and, wishing for popularity, he offered 
 as a reward to the guesser of a certain riddle half of his 
 kingdom, and the hand of his lovely daughter. Of course 
 there was no answer to the riddle, although the cunning 
 monarch kept his people in a state of pleasurable excitement 
 and peace from internal strife for the space of a few years, 
 and so tided over a difficulty. In similar fashion the good 
 folk of Newfoundland are apt to ask each other another 
 conundrum which is also unanswerable, namely, "Why is 
 the ' accommodation train ' so-called, and whom does it accom- 
 modate ? " At present the genius who can give a satis- 
 factory answer has not been discovered. The people of 
 the island regard the " accommodation train " with dread ; 
 strangers suffering a single journey resolve never to repeat 
 the experiment. But the "accommodation train " must accom- 
 modate somebody — perhaps it is the Old Gentleman himself! 
 Every second day that passes, Satan must bless the island's 
 government for running such a show entirely for his benefit. 
 Could the walls of those " First Class " carriages speak, what 
 a tale of wicked thoughts and wickeder language they could 
 tell, and how oft had the nature of the most gentle of men 
 been turned to acid and gall through the bitter experience 
 of a night's travel ! 
 
 One evening, in 1902, little Mike, Saunders, Wells, a 
 couple of station men, and myself were seated round a 
 blazing fire near the line at Terra-Nova. We were waiting 
 for the "accommodation train," which was only six hours late. 
 The conversation turned on wild beasts, as it always does 
 where two or three are gathered together in the backwoods. 
 
 " I seen a bear once here, close to the station," began 
 little Mike. We listened with hushed expectancy to the
 
 SXAGlNCiS 0.\ I HE CLIFK 
 
 A Typical Village of the Outports
 
 RETURN TO GLENWOOD 135 
 
 eleven-year-old stationmaster's coming story, for he had an 
 interesting way of putting things. 
 
 " He warn't walking away either, but come straight 
 towards me." 
 
 "Weren't you frightened, Mike.''" suggested some one. 
 
 "Sure," replied the little man; "but I stopped right 
 still, and as I hadn't no gun I jes' said somethin' that I 
 knew 'ud scare him proper." 
 
 " What did ye say, Mike ? " 
 
 " Well, I ses quite quiet like, ' Go way, you black devil, 
 or I'll send you to St. John's by the accommodation train,' 
 and you should ha' seen him scoot." And Mike looked 
 sadly upon me as a prospective sufferer. 
 
 We were due to leave Glenwood at 7 p.m., and punctually 
 at five minutes past i a.m. the train, with its long string of 
 baggage cars, steamed slowly into the station. Far away, 
 and out in the darkness, overhanging a pool of water, was 
 the passenger coach, on which was painted the curious legend 
 "First Class." The train was designated as "mixed," not 
 out of compliment to the passengers, but to individualise its 
 component parts. It is really a baggage train, with a coach 
 sandwiched between the trucks, so that the passengers may 
 experience the full joys of shunting, which takes place at 
 every heap of lumber piled beside the track between Bay 
 of Islands and St. John's, a distance of five hundred miles. 
 This journey is variously performed in two days, or, with 
 the help of a snowstorm or a spring wash-out, in a week. 
 
 I opened the door of the "First Class" carriage, and 
 was at once greeted with a terrible atmosphere. There were 
 eight hard benches, capable of holding two passengers on 
 each, and occupied by twelve men, four women, and three 
 children. Of course there was no seat to be had, so I sat
 
 136 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 on a biscuit box and allowed the door to stand open a 
 minute although it was freezing slightly. Soon a man from 
 outside came and shut it. Then I opened it again, and 
 then a passenger shivered, shook himself, got up and shut 
 it. This went on for some time until there really was a 
 little fresh air in the car, and I tried to get to sleep sitting 
 on my biscuit tin. We remained four hours at Glenwood 
 killing time and doing nothing in particular, then we were 
 all thrown endways by the engine coupling on. All the 
 men in the carriage woke up and swore. Then another 
 fearful jolt, which put out the light and sent me into the 
 arms of a perfectly innocent old lady, and off we went. 
 These fearful shocks are caused by the engine's playful way 
 of coupling on ; this is effected apparently by adhesion, and 
 it has to make a run at the train to make sure of sticking. 
 This happened whenever the engine was required to detach 
 for wood, coal, or water, or the driver went to gossip with 
 the section man or the stationmaster. 
 
 After swinging, creaking, and swaying round the marvellous 
 curves of the line I became sleepy, and so spread two weekly 
 editions of the Times on the floor of the carriage, placed my 
 ulster above these, and, lying flat out, had a very nice nap 
 for several hours. When I woke up it was broad daylight, 
 and somehow I imagined we had got on splendidly and were 
 nearly at Port Blandford. I said as much to a pleasant- 
 looking man sitting close to me, and the humour of the 
 remark, quite unintentional, was received with roars of laughter 
 by all the other men in the carriage. 
 
 "Why, we're nowhere near Gambo yet," replied my 
 neighbour. (Gambo is about thirty-six miles from Glenwood.) 
 
 Quite as tiresome a feature as the train itself was the 
 fact that it is well nigh impossible to get any provisions en
 
 RETURN TO GLENWOOD 137 
 
 route. Except at Whitburn (eight or nine hours out of St. 
 John's), where it is possible to obtain a slice of corned beef 
 and a cup of tea — that is, if the train will wait for you — 
 there is no other halting-place where food can be obtained. 
 My friends in the train had telegraphed on to Gambo to 
 have breakfast ready at the hotel {^sic). When we got there 
 the "lady" in charge said she did not make breakfasts for 
 travellers, but that they could have " a glass of whisky " apiece 
 at an exorbitant price. At Gambo I managed to steal two 
 pints of hot water out of a section man's house which I 
 invaded, and so got enough to give the tired-looking women 
 and children some tea. I also had a small supply of biscuits 
 and cooked carabou meat, and this was all most of these 
 unfortunate passengers had in thirty-six hours' travel. Near 
 Terra-Nova we stopped an hour or two, and Dr. M'Pherson, 
 myself, and the two St. John's boys turned out and helped 
 to load lumber from the side of the track ; we thought it 
 would save time and assist us towards a decent breakfast 
 at Port Blandford. When we reached that small village 
 the passengers made a rush for the " hotel." " Breakfast," 
 said the proprietor ; " oh no, we received no telegram from 
 Gambo, and we can do nothing for you in such a short 
 time." The crowd then swooped down on a place that 
 called itself a shop, and here met with better luck. 
 
 If the "accommodation train" and its attendant dis- 
 comforts are a disagreeable experience, I must confess, in 
 justice to the line, that the passenger need not take it unless 
 he is obliged to do so. The regular passenger train, which 
 runs every second day, is just as comfortable as any train 
 in the Colonies. There are good sleeping -berths, and 
 excellent meals are served on board.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 A VISIT TO THE OUTPORTS OF THE SOUTH COAST 
 
 When I first visited Newfoundland, it was with the light 
 heart of one who goes out to spend a short holiday in a new 
 land, and to gain a few hunting trophies for his collection. 
 Newfoundland, I thought, might prove worth a visit, and, like 
 many another country, that one visit would be sufficient. But 
 this was not the case. However, instead of a well-known 
 and easily reached hunting-ground of only passing interest, I 
 had found after my second trip a half-explored and altogether 
 delightful country teeming with game ; such a land, in fact, 
 as men who love the woods speak of with respect, and which 
 is, alas, generally mentioned with regret as belonging to the 
 days that have gone by. I had found a way into the interior 
 where other men had not attempted to go ; and to me Central 
 Newfoundland represented one great deer forest, over the 
 greater part of which I could wander at will without the 
 chance of seeing a human soul. To the general reader this 
 may seem a selfish pleasure. To a certain extent I must 
 admit it is, but on the other hand every big-game hunter of 
 to-day is searching for such a land of promise, and can 
 scarcely find it without travelling far. 
 
 It is one of the greatest truisms that when a fisherman 
 has caught a twenty-pound salmon he can never rest until he 
 has achieved the distinction of landing one of forty pounds ; 
 and when this notable achievement is reached, visions of fifty- 
 pounders will ever afterwards float before his eyes. So, too, 
 the caribou hunter cannot tamely sit down and gaze with 
 
 138
 
 Fresh Cod 
 
 Drying Fish
 
 VISIT TO THE SOUTH COAST OUTPORTS 139 
 
 satisfaction on the noble forty-pointer that adorns his walls 
 when he knows that somewhere up in the sheltered "leads" 
 of the Gander there are one or two fifty-pointers cleaning 
 their horns. It is just the weird imaginings which poor 
 human nature invents and sets us up some fetish that causes 
 us to strive after the seemingly unattainable. Still it 
 prompts us to pack up and go, and we obey. 
 
 On the other hand, my desire to revisit Newfoundland 
 was not altogether connected with the acquisition of the fifty- 
 pointer. A great part of the interior was, and is still, un- 
 mapped and unexplored, and I thought that I might add a 
 little to our knowledge of this, the oldest of our Colonies, by 
 surveying some new ground, as well as adding to that which 
 had been so well mapped by Mr. Howley and Alexander 
 Murray. There was work to be done, and this lent an 
 additional charm to the pleasures of Nature and Sport. There 
 was too, in the back of my mind, a feeling that on the last 
 visit I had not accomplished all I had set out to do. I had 
 intended to cross Newfoundland if possible, and had stuck in 
 the middle, partly on account of the drought, and partly on 
 account of the number of heads which had fallen to my rifle. 
 The latter would have been impossible to transport to the Bale 
 d'Est River, so I had given up the attempt for the year. 
 
 Before starting a fresh expedition into the interior, how- 
 ever, there was other work to do. For five years I had 
 been grinding away at a large work on " The Mammals of 
 Great Britain and Ireland." It was a book which seemed at 
 the time almost beyond my strength, owing to the quantity 
 of material in the way of first-hand knowledge and illustra- 
 tion which I had to supply, to say nothing of the outdoor 
 work and the books I had to consult. It was necessary to 
 see, study, hunt, and draw all the British species, including
 
 140 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 the whales, and this involved such constant work and travel 
 that I feared a break-down under the strain. One mammal, 
 the blue whale, it was absolutely necessary to examine in 
 the flesh, and this, owing to its comparative scarcity in British 
 waters, I hoped to find on the Newfoundland coasts. Accord- 
 ingly I set out, at the end of July 1905, with the intention 
 of spending a month in quest of this, the greatest of all 
 living creatures. 
 
 On arrival at St. John's I learned that all whales were 
 very scarce, and that only one blue whale had been killed in 
 Newfoundland waters during the past month. This did not 
 look well for success, as the blue whales, after leaving the 
 south coast in June, generally work out to the Grand Banks 
 in their pursuit of the red shrimps, and do not return until the 
 late autumn. The difficulty in selecting a station, therefore, 
 was considerable, whilst all the owners of the various factories 
 admitted the impossibility of selecting a base where success 
 was certain. 
 
 Eventually I chose the St Lawrence Factory, near the 
 point of Placentia and Fortune Bay, as this seemed to 
 be well placed for distant sea trips. Moreover, I should 
 have at this point the society and advice of Dr. Rismuller, 
 the American-German savant, who has done more than any 
 living man for the whaling industry. On applying to Mr. 
 John Harvey for permission to stay at St. Lawrence, I was 
 received with great kindness, and given every facility to study 
 my subject. The owners of other factories, such as Mr. 
 Edgar Bowring, Mr. Macdougall, and the Job brothers all 
 extended such cordial invitations that I was sorry there was 
 not sufficient time to visit their stations. St. John's people 
 are nothing if not hospitable, and on this, as on other 
 occasions, I was given every information by the Ministry
 
 VISIT TO THE SOUTH COAST OUTPORTS 141 
 
 of Fisheries and Marine, and personal friends such as Mr. 
 E. C. Watson^ and Judge Prowse. 
 
 Five hours' journey on the southern branch of the New- 
 foundland Railway takes the traveller to the summit of the 
 southern chain of mountains, and then you drop down to a 
 great sea lagoon surrounded by broken hills which end in 
 a sea beach, and the quaint old-world village of Placentia. 
 The journey is comparatively safe, and if you know nothing 
 about the railway or the state of the track, you can enjoy 
 the beautiful scenery as you pass along the wooded cliffs — 
 
 " Where the sea through all the mountains stretches up long arms between. 
 Flashing, sweeping, with swift current, like a river rushing on. 
 Till the tide turns, and the current, turning too, is seaward drawn, 
 Skirting mountain brow and valley, changing still, yet still the same, 
 Opening up unnumbered vistas, fairer far than lands of fame, 
 Scenes to make an artist famous, to the world as yet unknown. 
 Lovelier than that Lakeland region sung by poets of its own, 
 Nestling in its sea-girt valley, 'midst its mountains forest clad, 
 Lies Placentia rich in story, that might make an author glad." 
 
 Placentia is one of the most charming spots in New- 
 foundland. The town itself is not attractive, as it lies scattered 
 on a stony beach thrown up by the sea, and kept in place on 
 one side by the Atlantic, and on the other by the swift currents 
 of the north-east and south-east arms. The situation of the place 
 and its surroundings are, however, delightful. To the north 
 it is flanked by the summits of Casde Hill, where the cannon 
 used to stand, and to the south there rise the wooded hills 
 of the Strouter and Mount Pleasant. I have spent hours 
 sitting on the beach watching the ospreys hawking and 
 dashing down on the sea trout as they come in on the rising 
 tide, and enjoying the play of light on hill and sea. At one 
 
 * Since these lines were written St. John's has to lament the death of Mr. Watson.- 
 A more charming gentleman or one more interested in his work as Secretary of the 
 Fishery Board it will be impossible to find.
 
 142 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 time Placentia was an opulent centre of the Grand Bank 
 fishery, but it is now more or less neglected. Why, it is 
 difficult to understand, because its great beach is more suit- 
 able for the drying of cod than any place in the island. The 
 sea-trout fishing in the neighbourhood is excellent, and if 
 protected it would be of great value to the residents. At 
 Placentia live Mr. Albert and John Bradshaw. The former 
 will show you the service of plate presented by King 
 William IV., who visited this place during his travels, and 
 a delightful collection of Indian and Esquimaux relics which 
 he has gathered from the Labrador and Northern New- 
 foundland. He kindly presented me with a caribou charm 
 of the Beothick Indians, which was supposed to carry good 
 luck in hunting. 
 
 At Placentia I found the Glencoe, which performs 
 weekly journeys along the south coast, and here too, lying 
 like a veil, was the Newfoundland fog in all its density. In 
 the evening we started westwards, and, leaving the land of 
 sunshine, were at once lost in the gloom. 
 
 To find the various ports we had to enter was no easy 
 task, but Captain Drake seemed to know his way blindfold. 
 The steamer went full speed right ahead into Burin, and the 
 captain took the most surprising liberties with his boat. 
 Navigation was principally accomplished by the use of the 
 steam-whistle, which kept blowing all the time, and by its 
 use the old mariner could tell where he was by the echo on 
 the surrounding hills. He bears the reputation of being the 
 most accomplished fog captain in existence, and the skill 
 with which he steered past anchored " bankers " and hidden 
 rocks was amazing, even if appearing somewhat risky. The 
 pace, about twelve knots, never slackened, and at 6 a.m. we 
 entered the harbour of St. Lawrence, when the land greeted
 
 VISIT TO THE SOUTH COAST OUTPORTS 143 
 
 us once again. Here the fog was exceptionally dense. If 
 there is no wind, or the wind is from the south, the coast 
 is under its pail for months together in the summer, so the 
 traveller must have a large stock of patience and a volatile 
 temperament to withstand the constant rain and mist which 
 obscure all things. 
 
 The entrance to St. Lawrence is dominated bv a noble 
 
 4 
 
 headland known locally as " Shaperu," one of those queer 
 names which the traveller in Newfoundland constantly 
 encounters, and for which he finds it difficult to obtain a 
 derivation. The origin of nearly all these queer appellations 
 are Norman-French, which has been vulgarised and perverted 
 to suit local taste. To give a few instances. There is a 
 beautiful little port in Placentia Bay which was called by the 
 old Norman sailors Tasse cT Argent (The Silver Cup). This 
 the natives transmogrified into Tortello John, and it is now 
 called Tortello. Cinq Isles is made into Saint Kells ; Bale 
 de [Argent into Bay de John ; Chapeau Rouge into Shaperu ; 
 Baie Fachezcx into Foushy ; Baie d'Espoir into Bay Despair ; 
 whilst many other instances could be given. This habit of 
 doggerelising names has become a passion with the New- 
 foundlanders, and if a name is difficult, they make a short 
 cut and apply the title of anything that sounds nearest to it. 
 A poor woman brought her child to be christened by the 
 Rev. Christopher Meek. On asking the name of the child, 
 the mother replied that it was to be "Hyena." "Why, my 
 good woman," said the parson, " I could not give the name 
 of a wild animal to this lovely child. There must be some 
 mistake." "Well," answered the mother, "my good man 
 before he went up the Bay cuttin' wood, telled me it were to be 
 ' Hyena ' and nothing else." Soon afterwards the clergyman 
 met the father, who said, "Well, parson, that were a curious
 
 144 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 mistake between you and my missis about the baby. It 
 were Joseph Hyena (Josephina) I told her to name the child." 
 
 Great St. Lawrence is a typical village of the outports. 
 Imagine a little fiord surrounded by green hills covered with 
 grass, tea-bush, pink calmia {Kalmia Glattca), blueberry, and 
 stunted spruce and pine, amongst which the stone and granite 
 outcrops. There are no trees of any size, because these have 
 long since been cut for fuel, or blown down by the winter 
 storms. Above high-water mark stands the village of wooden 
 houses, many of them built on trestles after the Norwegian 
 fashion. Some of these small crofts have a little hayfield 
 surrounded by wooden palings, in a corner of which stands 
 the cow-byre, whilst all possess on the sea front large staging 
 and store-houses for the drying and curing of cod. The 
 houses are roofed with wooden slates ; they are of two stories 
 and possess a loft. The best ones have little gardens, in 
 which grow potatoes and cabbages, or, if the owner is suffi- 
 ciently well to do, flowers. In August these gardens are 
 quite gay, and I noticed quantities of meadow-sweet, fox- 
 gloves, sweet-williams, pseonies, pinks, violas, Aaron's rod 
 and golden rod, monthly roses, and the common wild rose 
 of the country. Neglected as a weed, and most beautiful 
 of all, were great clumps of the blue monkshood, locally 
 known as "Queen's fettle." In the wild marshes there was 
 a great variety of berries and alpine plants, the most notice- 
 able at this season being the pitcher plant, and a small and 
 lovely snow-white orchis. Michaelmas daisies and golden 
 rod give masses of yellow in the inland woods, whilst on 
 all the roadsides grow pink and white spiraeas. 
 
 On dull and foggy days no one in St. Lawrence seemed 
 to have any work to do. Men could not go to sea, and 
 women could not dry fish. All is silent and depressed.
 
 VISIT TO THE SOUTH COAST OUTPORTS 145 
 
 but when the sun comes out everything changes to life and 
 movement. Dogs bark, children call at their play, and those 
 at work on the "flakes" chat cheerfully together. In the 
 still waters of the harbour the common terns {SUrna /itrundo), 
 like little sea-fairies, hover and descend upon their prey the 
 sand-eels ; American herring gulls (Larus argentatus Smith- 
 sonianus) sail aloft, whilst the common sandpipers and two 
 species of tringa flit and call upon the beaches. The dogs, 
 which seem to be well nigh amphibious, rush barking through 
 the pools, and at low water search the shores for discarded 
 cod-heads. 
 
 The best dogs are of the "Labrador" type. In winter 
 they are used for hauling logs — one dog will haul 2 or 
 3 cwt. Seldom more than two are used together. The 
 pure Newfoundland dogs are curly, and are a little higher on 
 the leg than are the Labradors. 
 
 Everything eats cod in Newfoundland, even the cows. 
 These cattle have the appearance of coming badly through 
 the winter, and making up for it in summer with indifferent 
 success. Their existence is one long struggle with the forces 
 of nature, and in the battle of life they get the worst of it. 
 Their lives are one long disappointment in the commissariat 
 line. Just as the grass is getting sweet, it is denied them 
 by means of wooden fences, so they do the best they can by 
 nibbling various shrubs and by repairing to the beach at 
 low water, where they eat seaweed, dulse, and the remains 
 of cod. They are also very partial to whale flesh. The 
 sheep are poor and thin, though why this should be so is 
 difficult to understand, as there is abundant food for them in 
 summer. I bought a good-sized lamb one day, and thought 
 I had got a bargain at a dollar (4s. 6d.), but when two 
 members of the whaling crew and I had finished the entire 
 
 K
 
 146 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 animal for breakfast one morning, its value seemed to be 
 about three shillings, and dear at that. 
 
 Nothing has struck me so forcibly in Newfoundland as 
 the miserable quality of their sheep, and the fact that a 
 considerable part of the fertile coast-line would be made an 
 excellent land for sheep-raising if the right kinds were intro- 
 duced. It has been my lot to wander much in the barren 
 northern lands of Iceland, Norway, the Hebrides, Shetland 
 and Orkney, and in these wind-swept places I have seen 
 flocks of different varieties of sheep in a flourishing condition 
 — in spots, too, far more unsuitable in every way than the 
 south and west coasts of Newfoundland. In most cases the 
 farmers of these inhospitable wilds depend almost entirely 
 on their sheep, and could not live without them. What is 
 to be seen in Newfoundland ? Only here and there, in widely 
 separated places, one finds a few miserable sheep of some 
 German extraction, carrying such a poor quality of wool 
 and flesh as hardly to be worth the raising. Now, what is 
 wanted is that the Government should take the matter in 
 hand — for the Newfoundlanders themselves are much too 
 apathetic and ignorant about such matters — and import a 
 few flocks of the following sheep : — 
 
 The Highland ram of Scotland, which carries a mag- 
 nificent coat of wool capable of withstanding the severest 
 winter provided the snow is not too deep ; Welsh sheep, 
 Hebridean sheep, Shetland sheep, Icelandic sheep. All these 
 varieties are extremely hardy, and would, I am sure, do well 
 in the comparatively sheltered bays of the south and west coast. 
 
 One of the first things that would have to be done would 
 be the shooting of ownerless dogs, and stringent laws would 
 have to be enacted that the owners of dogs must keep their 
 dogs in check and under proper supervision. A man who
 
 Newfoundland Dogs of the Present Day 
 
 The Fowls are Furnished with curious Attachments to Prevent 
 THEM FROM Entering the Gardens
 
 VISIT TO THE SOUTH COAST OUTPORTS 147 
 
 allows his dog to stray should be heavily fined. At present 
 these half-wild "Labrador" dogs roam the country in spring 
 and autumn, searching for anything they can kill. Once a 
 dog has killed a sheep, it is very cunning, and will not 
 murder in its own neighbourhood, but travels far afield to 
 commit regular depredations. 
 
 Chickens are small and of a "speckelty" order. Some 
 of them go about with curious attachments — a bar of wood 
 tied across the top of the wings ; this is done to prevent 
 them getting into the gardens. Others are hobbled as an 
 additional precaution. 
 
 On fine days a few butterflies are to be seen flitting 
 about, but Newfoundland is not a good field for the ento- 
 mologist. I noticed as common, the following species : — 
 Cabbage white, red admiral, painted lady, and a large brown 
 fritillary, which is very abundant on the rivers and wood- 
 land roads. Once I saw a small blue, and three times the 
 lovely Camberwell Beauty. 
 
 The people are amiable and polite. It is a rare thing 
 to pass a man or woman who does not wish you good day, 
 and the children, too, are equally well-mannered. They are 
 kind, sociable, and by no means reserved. The people of 
 the outports make friends at once. 
 
 There was a sweet-looking old couple at Petty Fort, who, 
 
 on my wishing to photograph them, said, "Yes, please. 
 
 Mister, if it don't cost no more than a dollar." Then the 
 
 old sweethearts took each other's hands in. such a natural 
 
 old-fashioned way to pose for the picture that I could not 
 
 help thinking of the lines — 
 
 " Now we maun toddle doon the hill, 
 But hand in hand we'll go, 
 And sleep thegither at the foot, 
 John Anderson, my jo."
 
 148 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 I met a fisherman one day at the same place, and he 
 plunged into his wants at once, for of all things that young 
 Newfoundland loves, it is a dance. 
 
 "Say, Mister," he said, "wouldn't you like a spree 
 to-night ? " 
 
 I remarked that I was not hunting for sprees just at 
 that moment, but whales. 
 
 " But do just, there's a good man. Go up to the priest 
 and ask the loan of the schoolhouse. You're a stranger, 
 and he'll give it to you at once, though he wouldn't for me. 
 I've got some whisky, and all the girls will come as soon as 
 they know you've got the schoolhouse." 
 
 The offer was certainly enticing from his point of view, 
 but as we might sail at any moment when the wind went 
 down, I was forced to decline his hospitable suggestion. Most 
 of the people stop and speak to you, and all ask if you are 
 buying fish, and what is the price of cod in St. John's. 
 
 The women work on the drying stages as well as the 
 men, laying out the fish whenever the sun shines, and piling 
 into heaps under layers of bark whenever it threatens to 
 rain. They all talk a good deal about their poverty, but 
 personally I could hear of little genuine distress in this part 
 of the island. One day two little boys, plump and well fed, 
 but dressed in rags, stopped me and demanded cents. On 
 asking them why they begged, and if it was for money to 
 buy sweets, one of them said that they had had nothing to 
 eat that day. 
 
 " What is your father ? " I asked. 
 
 " We ain't got no father," the eldest replied, looking 
 down. " He's got drowned." 
 
 " And your mother .'' " 
 
 "She can't do nothing; she's sick wi' the chills."
 
 VISIT TO THE SOUTH COAST OUTPORTS 149 
 
 " Why don't you fish in the harbour?" I suggested; "it's 
 full of flat fish." 
 
 This idea seemed new to them, and to present certain 
 possibilities as yet undreamed of, and, after further conversa- 
 tion in which I found that their poverty was genuine, I was 
 glad to give them some help. 
 
 It may seem extraordinary, but here was a bay simply 
 crawling with beautiful flounders, but not a soul dreamt of 
 catching and cooking them for their own use. Those who 
 know best the outport Newfoundlander are aware of his con- 
 servatism and pig-headed objection to all innovations. Their 
 fathers never ate flat fish, so why should they ? They would 
 rather starve than do such a thing. I asked a fisherman 
 one day what his objection to them was, and he said, 
 " People say they're poisonous." 
 
 I assured him to the contrary, and asked him if he 
 had ever tried one, and he answered, "Yes, once, out of 
 curiosity." 
 
 There are many other excellent fish, which they neither 
 eat fresh nor cured, such as herring, wrasse (conors), skate, 
 ling, hake, and halibut. 
 
 Like all seafaring people, the Newfoundlanders are 
 exceedingly childlike and superstitious. Their fathers fished 
 cod before them, and they do the same for four months in 
 the year, often doing absolutely nothing for the other eight 
 months, except to set a few traps for lobsters. If the 
 Government offers them wages for making a road through 
 the country they work splendidly — for one day — and then 
 sit down contentedly and expect to declare a permanent 
 dividend. 
 
 On the whole the men look strong, but the women are 
 generally pinched and narrow-chested. Consumption is rife.
 
 150 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 and in no way lessened by the dirty practice of expectora- 
 tion, so that if one member of a family acquires the dread 
 disease it rapidly spreads, as the germs are fostered by hot 
 rooms and damp weather. The purity of the air of New- 
 foundland is without doubt due to the fact that the people 
 of the outports never open their windows. 
 
 Taking all things into consideration, the lot of the New- 
 foundlander who cares to work a little is an exceedingly 
 happy one. He makes little or no money, but Nature offers 
 him her gifts with no ungenerous hand. It is quite easy to 
 go into the country in November and December and kill 
 three deer. This can be done in a few days, the carcases 
 being hauled out by dog or ox sledge. A supply of fresh 
 meat is thus assured for the winter months. 
 
 When spring comes on and the ice breaks up,^ large 
 numbers of the more able-bodied take to the woods for the 
 purpose of cutting logs. In many cases they work on their 
 own account in the virgin forest, cutting in such sections as 
 have not already been claimed by lumber companies, and 
 hauling or floating their logs to the saw-mills, where they 
 sell them, wages averaging from one to two dollars a day. 
 The majority, however, take employment with some of the 
 larger or smaller timber owners, and they prefer this method, 
 as they are housed and fed at the expense of the owners. 
 A good " riverside " boss — that is, the man who keeps the 
 others at work and superintends the movement of the logs 
 on the rivers — will earn as much as three dollars a day. 
 During the summer the men fish, mostly in " bankers," off 
 the coast or away north along the Labrador, whilst the 
 
 ' Few of these south coast men go to the seal-fishing in spring. They are too 
 independent, and are not forced to board the seal vessels as the men of the east 
 coast are.
 
 VISIT TO THE SOUTH COAST OUTPORTS 151 
 
 women attend to the home croft, and the planting and care 
 of the land. In August most of the fishermen return and 
 reap the hay or rough corn, which is only used as cattle 
 food. On the east and west coast, in September, if the men 
 are acquainted with the interior of the neighbourhood of their 
 homes, they are often employed as "guides" for caribou 
 hunting ; at this they can earn from one to two dollars a 
 day, sometimes even getting parties in October for the 
 second season. No shooting parties — that is, sportsmen — 
 enter Newfoundland from the south coast or northern penin- 
 sula, so this does not apply to them. 
 
 Thus we see that on the whole the Newfoundlanders, 
 except the poor of St. John's and the islanders of the east 
 coast, are exceedingly well off in the literal sense of the 
 word, and would be in clover were it not for the over- 
 powering taxes, for which they get absolutely nothing in 
 return. 
 
 Cod-fishing being the principal industry of Newfound- 
 land, it may be as well to briefly survey the various 
 methods of taking this fish.^ The men of the outports begin 
 to fish about the ist of May, for it is at this season that the 
 cod move in from the ocean. The usual method is to fish 
 from "bankers," small ocean-going schooners, carrying little 
 boats with trawls. A "trawl" is not such as we understand 
 it in England, but five dozen cod-lines, each 30 fathoms 
 long, and baited in spring with herring. This method goes 
 on till about the 15th of June. Then a large number of 
 men desert the "bankers" and employ "cod-traps," seine- 
 
 ' Cod rarely exceed 60 lbs. in weight, but there are authentic records of 
 fish of 90 lbs. One was taken at Smoky Tickle, Labrador, in August 1906, which, 
 according to the Newfoundland newspapers, was said to be 9 feet long when spit, 
 and 5 feet broad. It is said to have weighed, when dry, 230 lbs. Doubtless 
 these figures were exaggerated.
 
 152 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 nets, or nets, hand-lines, and trawls all together. At this 
 season the fish are at their best quality, as the caplin are in, 
 and on these the cod largely feed. Caplin strike on to the 
 south coast about the loth of June, and last till ist August, 
 dying in myriads on the shore after spawning amongst the 
 seaweed. 
 
 In shape a cod-trap is very like a house, with a large 
 door at which the fish can enter. In the water it is 15 
 fathoms square on the ground plan, and 10 to 12 fathoms 
 deep, the mesh of the net being 7 inches. The trap is set 
 in 10 to 12 fathoms of water, and a long net stretching 
 landwards, and called a "leader," guides the fish in at the 
 front door. Once they go in they seldom return. This 
 effective trap is hauled up twice a day, and generally it will 
 contain anything from i to 150 quintals of fish. 
 
 Cod-nets are of somewhat different construction, the mesh 
 being small, only 6 inches. They are about 100 fathoms 
 long, and are about 20 feet deep. Weights are attached to 
 the bottom, and they are sunk in from 18 to 20 fathoms of 
 water. The cod run their heads into the net, and get their 
 gills entangled. These nets are hauled once a day, and 
 contain from a few fish to 10 quintals. 
 
 A cod-seine is a long net 102 to 130 fathoms of still 
 smaller mesh, 4 inches in the centre and 5 at both ends. 
 It is coiled in the stern of a small boat, and two men cast 
 it out as the boat is rowed in a circle. The men, by means 
 of a water-glass, see the school of fish before casting their 
 net, and are sometimes very successful at this method of 
 fishing. The cod-seine net can be cast several times during 
 the day. 
 
 Hand-line fishing from small boats is somewhat precarious. 
 The men usually average about fifty fish a day, but as many
 
 VISIT TO THE SOUTH COAST OUTPORTS 153 
 
 as 20 quintals have been taken in one day by two men, who 
 happened to strike a shoal of hungry cod. 
 
 The cod-traps, cod-seines, and cod-nets all stop about 
 1st August, but the hand-line men and " bankers," with trawl 
 lines, go on till about ist October, when the weather usually 
 becomes too bad for fishing. 
 
 Having brought the fish ashore, it may interest the 
 reader to follow the history of the fish until it is eventually 
 distributed. 
 
 As soon as the cod are brought ashore they are treated 
 as follows. One man cuts the throat, another cuts the head 
 off, a third splits and cleans the fish, and a fourth salts it. 
 These "green" fish are then arranged in piles for a week 
 or a fortnight. They are then taken out and washed in salt 
 by boys and girls, and again packed in bulk for twenty-four 
 hours. After this they are spread out to dry in the sun on 
 the fir-branched trestles or flakes. It takes about five fine 
 days to dry a cod. The dried fish is then packed in bulk 
 and stored in the house, ready for removal. A usual price 
 for outport curers is five dollars a quintal. (A quintal is 
 112 lbs., and it takes about fifty trawl fish, or a hundred 
 trap fish, to realise this weight.) 
 
 The cod-fishing has for centuries been the mainstay of 
 the island, and when all other things fail, this (and the 
 caribou) will last, if taken care of. Of course seasons 
 fluctuate owing to the irregular movements of the fish, but 
 it may be taken as a general rule that if the season is bad 
 off Newfoundland it is good on " The Labrador," or " Down 
 North " as it is always called, where a large percentage of 
 the Newfoundlanders go to fish. 
 
 The report of the Fisheries Board will give some idea 
 of the great number of cod which are usually exported.
 
 154 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 The total export of cod-fish by customs returns for the 
 past five years was as follows, showing an average annual 
 export of 1,322,466 quintals: — 
 
 Season 1899-1900 ...... 1,300,622 
 
 „ 1900-1901 1,233,107 
 
 1901-1902 1,288,95s 
 
 ,, 1902-1903 1,429,274 
 
 1903-1904 1,360,373 
 
 The Grand Banks extend from Labrador southwards past 
 Newfoundland to the Massachusetts coast, a distance of over 
 1000 miles, and every year some 1200 vessels, carrying crews 
 of 20,000 fishermen, go out to battle with the surges as they 
 have done for the past four hundred years. The fisher- 
 men of all lands have to encounter the perils of the deep, 
 but none have to face the risks that the "bankers" do. 
 Their special dangers are swift liners, that steam full speed 
 through the fog, ice-bergs, ice-floes, chilling frosts, and 
 furious storms. The fishing- zone lies right in the track of 
 great liners plying between Europe and America, and many 
 a poor fisherman has lived to curse 
 
 " Some damned liner's lights go by 
 Like a great hotel " ; 
 
 whilst nearly all have some heartrending tale to tell of the 
 destruction of fishing craft of which he has been an eye- 
 witness. There is an ever-increasing record of sunken 
 ships, of frosts which overpower, and of dory crews driven 
 from their schooners by sudden tempests, and, during the 
 fishing season, hardly a week goes by without some tale of 
 misfortune. Of the method of fishing and the disasters which 
 overtake the ship I must quote a passage from one of Mr. 
 P. T. M'Grath's articles,^ which are full of interest and 
 accurate information. 
 
 • St. John's Htrald, 28th August 1906.
 
 VISIT TO THE SOUTH COAST OUTPORTS 155 
 
 " When fishing is actually in progress, the smacks always 
 anchor, for the shoals carry only thirty to sixty fathoms of 
 water, and hempen cables are used instead of iron chains 
 to moor them, as the latter would saw their bows out from 
 the lively pitching they do in these choppy seas. The fishing 
 itself is done from dories, light but strong flat-bottomed 
 boats, each carrying two men, who set their lines or trawls 
 overnight, and examine them next day, removing the fish 
 impaled on the hooks with which the trawl is furnished, and 
 then rebaiting them for another night's service. The ship 
 is therefore like a hen with a flock of chickens, the dories 
 standing in this relation to her, while the trawls radiate from 
 her as spokes from a wheel-hub, being laid outward from 
 her at a distance of one or two miles, the ship serving as 
 a depot for feeding and housing the men and for cleaning 
 and storing their catch. In setting and cleaning his trawls 
 and cleaning his catch the doryman finds abundant occupation, 
 and rarely gets more than a few hours' sleep in a night, some- 
 times none at all. 
 
 " Thus it is that when fogs obscure the water, vigilance 
 is relaxed by the toil-worn look-out, to whom is entrusted 
 the lives of a score of comrades, tiredly sleeping below. 
 Though the fog-horn each vessel carries is sounded regularly, 
 still many a horror is enacted amid this curtain of gloom, 
 when a mighty steamship splits a hapless fisher-boat and, 
 like a marine juggernaut, rushes on over the wreckage and 
 bodies she sends to the bottom by the stroke of her steel- 
 clad prow. Often at night a sudden crash rends the stillness, 
 and a shriek of despair rises from the stricken schooner's 
 crew, a swirl of splintered wood in her wake to mark the 
 eddies for a while, and then vanish, a tomb for fifteen or 
 twenty men.
 
 156 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 " Last summer one of the German liners cut down a 
 trawler on the banks, but it was in the daytime, and the 
 crew fortunately escaped. The previous year two similar 
 occurrences took place with equally harmless results. The 
 freighter Endymion, however, bound to Montreal, crashed 
 into the smack Albatross off Cape Race last July, and of 
 the nineteen on the latter only one was saved. In September 
 1902 the collier Warspite sank the smack Bonavista on one 
 of the banks, three only surviving out of twenty-two on 
 board. In 1898 the City of Rome ripped the stem off the 
 smack Victor of St. Pierre Miquelon, but she kept afloat, 
 and a relief party from the liner got her safely to land after 
 three days of trying endeavour, as she was leaking badly 
 from the shock. This humane action on the liner's part is 
 agreeably remembered yet among the fishing fleets, for, if 
 the bankmen are to be believed, steamers usually keep on 
 as if nothing had happened, and tell the passengers who 
 may have felt the shock that it was caused by striking 
 loose ice or suddenly changing the course. It is, indeed, 
 alleged among the bankmen, that crews of foreign steamers 
 will beat off with belaying pins the wretches from the 
 foundering vessels who try to swarm on board, that the 
 name of the destroyer may not be known, and local com- 
 plications be thus avoided. 
 
 " How many of the missing bankmen meet their end in 
 this way can only be conjectured, but certain it is that far 
 more are sunk than are reported to the world. Frequently 
 the steamer's people scarcely know what has happened when 
 such a catastrophe occurs to the accompaniment of a midnight 
 storm, so slight is the shock of impact on her huge hull, and 
 with spectators few at these times, and look-outs and watch- 
 officers having every reason to escape inquiry and possible
 
 VISIT TO THE SOUTH COAST OUTPORTS 157 
 
 punishment, the temptation to hurry on and make no alarm 
 is usually yielded to. Many lives are certainly sacrificed 
 every year because of this which could otherwise be saved, 
 for the fishing schooners are all wooden-built and, unless 
 mortally smitten, will float for some time. Even at the 
 worst the men can cling to planks or spars long enough 
 to be rescued if the steamer would stop to launch a boat, 
 which, of course, is always done when the collision occurs 
 while passengers are on deck or in daylight. 
 
 "The fishermen take every ship that strikes them to be 
 a liner, but, during the last few years, the greyhound track 
 has been moved south of the Grand Bank to avoid them, 
 so fearful from these mishaps previously, and now most of 
 the tragedies are due to freighters, which swarm across this 
 area during the summer. Not a few of the unrecorded 
 disappearances there of splendid trawlers must be assigned 
 to these racing steamboats, such as the loss of the Cora 
 M'Kay, in October 1902, one of the finest vessels that 
 ever sailed out of Gloucester, which disappeared with her 
 twenty-two men under conditions which would warrant the 
 belief that she was run over and sent to the bottom. Eight 
 French smacks from St. Pierre were damaged by steam- 
 ships in 1900, and there is every reason to think that 
 three others were sunk with all hands by them the same 
 year. 
 
 " So frequent are these collisions, that the recent comic 
 papers had a rather ghastly joke about a tourist returning 
 to America and bemoaning the uneventful passage, as the 
 ship ' ran down only one fishing smack, don't you know.' 
 All steamers are supposed to slow down to half-speed during 
 a fog, but this rule is rarely observed, and it is to its ignoring 
 that most of the fatalities are due.
 
 158 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 " Equally terrible destruction is often wrought by the gales 
 which sweep the banks in the fishing time. Chief among 
 these, in its appalling fatality list, was the ' Seventh of June 
 Breeze' of 1896. The day was fine and fair for fishing, 
 when the tempest broke and caught hundreds of dories far 
 from their ships, imperilling not alone the skiffs and occupants, 
 but also the vessels themselves, because only the captain and 
 cook remain aboard while trawling is on. Scores of boats 
 and several vessels sank, and over 300 lives were lost. Three 
 Newfoundland, two Canadian, and three Americans were sunk 
 at their moorings, and all hands were lost." 
 
 It is sad to see a grand old man like Lord Roberts trying 
 to arouse the nation to a sense of its military weakness, but, 
 thank heaven, those in power in the Navy are not so blind 
 or foolish as to overlook the splendid reserve of naval seamen 
 that can be made from the Terra-Novan fishermen. We 
 have great and powerful colonies full of virile men capable 
 of making excellent soldiers, but where can we find sailors 
 that are experienced and used to the sea beyond our own 
 coasts, except in Newfoundland ? Here we have a people, 
 bound to us not only by the ties of kinship, but of love. 
 It is a land where the portraits of our beloved King and 
 Queen hang in every humble cottage, not as nominal rulers 
 of some visionary power, but as the heads of the great 
 motherland for which the islanders have both pride and 
 respect. Newfoundland will gladly give of her best when 
 the great day of war comes, as come it surely will, and her 
 bluejackets, I feel sure, will acquit themselves with honour. 
 I cannot do better than conclude this chapter with some 
 stirring lines by James B. Connolly : —
 
 (^Kll^.iJi^ot- 
 
 Old Sweethearts 
 
 The Captain about to Fire at a Finback.
 
 VISIT TO THE SOUTH COAST OUTPORTS 159 
 
 " Oh, Newf undland and Cape Shore men, and men of Gloucester town, 
 With ye I've trawled o'er many banks, and sailed the compass round ; 
 I've ate wi' ye, and watched wi' ye, and bunked wi' ye, all three, 
 And better shipmates than ye were I never hope to see. 
 I've seen ye in a wild typhoon beneath a Southern sky, 
 I've seen ye when the Northern gales drove seas to masthead high ; 
 But summer breeze or winter blow, from Hatt'ras to Cape Race, 
 I've yet to see ye with the sign of fear upon your face." 
 
 The total strength of the Newfoundland naval reserve 
 is at present 573, and it ought to be treble this number. The 
 men enrol for a period of five years, at the expiration of 
 which they can enrol for a further period or obtain their 
 discharge. The reservists between the age of eighteen 
 and thirty are of two classes, " Seamen " and " Qualified 
 Seamen " ; on entry he belongs to the former class.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 MODERN FIN-WHALING AND THE GREAT WHALES 
 
 Before introducing my readers to the business and excitement 
 of modern whale-hunting, it is necessary to give a slight 
 review or history of Newfoundland's advance in this respect, 
 and to see how the industry gradually developed since the first 
 discovery of the island by Cabot in 1497.^ 
 
 Soon after this important discovery great tales of the 
 Newfoundland seas and their riches excited the Devon and 
 Somerset men to cross the Atlantic in their crazy fishing boats 
 to filch the treasures of the deep in the shape of walrus, seal, 
 and cod from the waters of the west. Owing to the rapacity 
 of those in power these early mariners kept their catch secret 
 for a long time, carrying their salt cod to Spain and Portugal, 
 just as they do to-day, and reaping a rich reward. Judge 
 Prowse, than whom there is no better authority on the island's 
 history, tells us that " the proofs that the trade was both 
 extensive and lucrative are abundant. In 1527, the little 
 Devonshire fishing ships were unable to carry home their 
 large catch, so ' sack ships ' (large merchant vessels) were 
 employed to carry the salt cod to Spain and Portugal, In 
 1 54 1 an Act of Henry VIII. classes the Newfoundland trade 
 among such well-known enterprises as the Irish, Shetland, and 
 Iceland fisheries. Soon after 1497, the great trade between 
 Bristol and Iceland declined, and the price of fish fell. We have 
 further transactions in ' barrelled fish ' from Newfoundland. 
 
 ' Our information on this point is derived from Italian and Spanish letters written 
 
 soon after his arrival in 1497. 
 
 160
 
 The Captain of the Whaler 
 
 DusKV Mallard or Black. Duck.
 
 MODERN FIN-WHALING 161 
 
 In 1583 Sir Humphrey Gilbert came to St. John's especially 
 to obtain supplies for his impoverished fleet, and it is then 
 mentioned as a 'place very populace and much frequented.' 
 ' The English command all there.' " 
 
 Sir Walter Raleigh declared that this trade was the main- 
 stay and support of the western counties, and " that if any 
 misfortune happened to the Newfoundland fleet, it would be 
 the greatest calamity that could befall England." The value 
 will be seen from the fact that the Newfoundland business 
 employed over 10,000 men, who earned annually over 
 ^500,000 — a very large sum in those days, and amounting 
 to a half of the national assets. 
 
 One is apt to forget that the great Chancellor Bacon was 
 not only famous for his literary gifts. He was also, as Ben 
 Jonson tells us, a great public speaker, and, far in advance of 
 his age, believed in the value and success of our colonies. 
 He was the chief organiser of "The London and Bristol 
 Company for Colonising Newfoundland," and drew up both 
 its prospectus and the rules of the new enterprise. In one 
 passage he refers to "The Goldmine of the Newfoundland 
 fishery, richer than all the treasures of Golconda and Peru," 
 and thus predicted a success for the industry which has since 
 come true. For as Prowse remarks : "This wonderful harvest 
 of the sea has been producing millions upon millions every 
 season for four hundred years, as productive to-day as when 
 John Cabot and his West-country fishermen first sighted ' the 
 New-founde-launde,' and told their countrymen marvellous 
 stories about the fish that were dipped up in baskets, of the 
 great deer, and of the strange birds and beasts in this wonder- 
 ful new island of the West. These tales of wealth in fur, 
 fin, and feather in our most ancient colony are as true to-day 
 as in the Tudor age."
 
 162 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 These hardy old sea-rovers, together with a small per- 
 centage of French and Portuguese, fished on the Grand 
 Banks, or killed the seal and walrus in early spring to the 
 north and west. It was not, however, until about 1550, that 
 the Spanish Basques, who had long chased the Great Southern 
 Right Whale {Balcsna atistralis) in the stormy waters of the 
 Bay of Biscay, inaugurated the whaling industry in the 
 Newfoundland seas. 
 
 It is a common fallacy amongst the British, that we were 
 the first nation to commence whaling. It was the Basques 
 who first chased the seal and the walrus,^ and afterwards 
 taught our people the dangerous business of whale-killing. 
 The very word " harpoon " is derived from an old Basque 
 word " harpon." Yet though the English ruled all then in 
 Newfoundland, as they had maintained their supremacy 
 hundreds of years before in the Iceland cod-fishery, whaling 
 was a trade they had to learn and did learn. For courtesy 
 the chief post, that of whale-killer, was held by a Basque 
 " harponier," just as the Norwegians are the first of whale- 
 men to-day. 
 
 Up to 1800 the whales were pursued in open boats, and 
 struck with the hand harpoon; about 1830 the small bomb 
 came into use ; soon after which date whales were found too 
 difficult and dangerous to hunt, the Right Whale (probably 
 Balana australis, not Balcsna mysticetus) having almost com- 
 pletely disappeared. The last Right Whale killed in New- 
 foundland was taken near Gaultois, on the south coast, 
 in 1850. 
 
 In the year 1880, a Norwegian sailor named Svend Foyn, 
 after several ineffectual attempts to kill the great Balcenoptera 
 
 ' This of course only refers to our colonial hunting. The Norwegians had for 
 long exploited the waters of Spitsbergen for the chase of these animals.
 
 MODERN FIN-WHALING 163 
 
 with ordinary lines and bomb-guns, invented the cannon and 
 harpoon with exploding head. This was at once found to 
 be effective on the greatest of all whales, such as Sibbald's 
 Rorqual, the Common Rorqual, and the Humpback. These 
 enormous creatures had never previously suffered from the 
 attacks of man to any serious extent, because the attempt to 
 strike and hold them with the ordinary methods employed on 
 the Greenland, the Southern Right, or the Sperm Whales, 
 would have led to disaster. 
 
 Svend Foyn commenced operations at once on the Finmark 
 coast of Norway in 1880, and his immediate success was quickly 
 followed by a crowd of small vessels which, killing sometimes 
 as many as five or six Balanoptera in a single day, rapidly 
 depleted the northern grounds. Many thousands were slain 
 until the Norwegian Government stepped in and put a stop 
 to further operations by appointing a close time until the year 
 1907. This industry, however, was profitable, so the gallant 
 Norwegians, having found a trade after their own hearts, at 
 once set out to look for " fresh fields and pastures new." 
 Balcenoptera were reported as being numerous in the Gulf 
 of St. Lawrence and Newfoundland waters, and in 1897- 1899 
 the Cabot Whaling Company commenced hunting, and began 
 operations at Snooks Arm, and at Balaena, in Hermitage 
 Bay. The first whale was killed on 25th June 1898 by the 
 steamer Cabot (Captain Bull), and she killed 47 in that year. 
 In 1899 she took 95 ; in 1900 the total was in ; in 1901 the 
 Cabot and another boat killed 258 ; in 1902 three steamers 
 slew 472 ; and in 1903 four steamers slaughtered the enor- 
 mous total of 858 large whales. In 1904 more ships took the 
 sea, the total catch of fourteen factories being 1275 whales, 
 made up as follows : 264 Sibbald's Rorqual, 281 Humpbacks, 
 690 Common Rorqual, 39 Rudolphi's Rorqual, i Sperm Whale.
 
 164 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 In spite of this great slaughter, whales were reported to be 
 quite as plentiful as usual in the spring of 1905. In fact, in 
 April and May Sibbald's Rorqual and Common Rorqual were 
 abundant along the edge of the ice at the mouth of the St. 
 Lawrence, and on the south coast of Newfoundland, as far 
 east as Placentia Bay. In June, however, whales suddenly 
 became extremely scarce, owing, said some of the owners and 
 St. John's people, to the excessive slaughter, but in reality to 
 the trend seawards of the stream of " kril " or red shrimp, on 
 which the great Balcenoptera subsist. 
 
 The whales which are hunted are : Sibbald's Rorqual 
 {Balcsnoptera Sibbaldi), called by the Norwegians "the Blue 
 Whale," and by the Americans and Newfoundlanders by the 
 stupid name of " Sulphur-Bottom " ; the Common Rorqual 
 {Balcsnoptera musculus), g&nersiWy knovin as "the Finback"; 
 the Humpback Whale {Megapiera boops) ; and Rudolphi's 
 Rorqual {Balcsnoptera borealis), known to the Norwegians as 
 " Seijval," or Seiwhale. The Lesser Rorqual {Balcsnoptera 
 rostrata), or Minkie's Whale, and the Sperm Whale, are also 
 killed on rare occasions. 
 
 Sibbald's Rorqual, or, as I shall call it in future, the Blue 
 Whale, is the largest of living creatures, and larger than any 
 mammal or reptile that the world has ever seen. Zoologists 
 who revel in piecing together the extinct creatures of the past, 
 and giving them an undue prominence, are somewhat apt to 
 overlook the more interesting forms which still live and fre- 
 quent our seas close at hand. Consequently the distribution 
 and habits of the most wonderful things that have ever 
 breathed have not received the attention they deserved. On 
 commencing the study of whales some years ago, I found the 
 literature of the Balcsnoptera so meagre that much study and 
 personal experience would be necessary to ascertain new facts
 
 \'arious Whales Spouting 
 
 1. The Humpbacked Whale. Spout like the smoke of a cigar, round and evanescent. 
 
 2. Atlantic Right Whale, redrawn by the Author from a sketch by a Nordkaper hunter. 
 J. Blue Whale. Spout from 15 to 30 feet in height. 
 
 4. Common Rorqual. Spout from 10 to 15 feet. 
 
 5. Rudolphi's Rorqual. Spout from 8 to 10 feet. Rudolphi's and the Common 
 
 Rorqual do not show the tail when " sounding."
 
 MODERN FIN-WHALING 165 
 
 about them and their ways. Since the introduction of the 
 whaHng steamer, and the publication of Dr. True's admirable 
 monograph on the " Whalebone Whales of the North- West 
 Atlantic," our knowledge has advanced by leaps and bounds, 
 and now we know a good deal about these animals, although 
 many points still remain to be cleared up, especially with regard 
 to the distribution and movements of the several species, which 
 I have carefully studied at home and abroad. 
 
 In a work of this kind I shall not inflict on my readers 
 the dry bones of scientific lore, but shall only place before 
 them just as many details as are necessary to allow them to 
 understand superficially the animals we are about to hunt. 
 
 The Blue Whale is distinguished from the other Rorquals 
 by its superior size and rich colour. All the upper part is a 
 rich zinc-blue slate, the lower a dark blue-grey, whilst the 
 interior parts of the throat and belly grooves are brownish- 
 grey. The pectoral fins are blue-grey with snow-white outer 
 edges. The baleen plates, about 4 feet in length, are black, 
 and number up to 400. The Blue Whale feeds almost ex- 
 clusively on a small red shrimp [Etiphausia), known to the 
 Norwegians as " kril," and "swamps" {Temora longicornis). 
 Adults measure from 70 to 102 feet, and weigh approximately 
 from 150 to 200 tons, and yield over 100 barrels of oil. This 
 whale occurs both in the Atlantic and the Pacific. It has 
 been observed off the fringe of the Antarctic ice, and all along 
 both coasts of America, whilst many winter to the east of the 
 West Indies. In March and April large numbers approach 
 the Gulf of St. Lawrence, just keeping outside the ice. Here 
 the main body of these western whales separate, one gathering 
 going right up the estuary as the ice breaks, the other turning 
 east along the south coast of Newfoundland, slowly, but closely, 
 fishing the banks of " kril " as far as Cape St. Mary, in
 
 166 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 Placentia Bay. As a rule, in the month of June, the " krll " 
 move out from Cape St. Mary to the Grand Banks, where 
 the whales scatter and feed about over a large area, and do 
 not return to the Newfoundland coast until September and 
 October. They do not go north along the Newfoundland 
 east coast, or along the Labrador. It is still uncertain whether 
 these whales, which return in September, are the same as 
 those which left the south coast in June, or fresh comers from 
 the south. It is also uncertain where this herd of whales 
 winter, but the Norwegian captains, who are the best judges 
 on these matters, are all inclined to think that they do not 
 go very far, but winter about the Grand Banks,^ some two 
 hundred miles off south-east Newfoundland, and scattered 
 over a large area. Certainly, many solitary Blue Whales 
 have been seen by ships in this range during the winter 
 months. 
 
 The range of the Blue Whale in the eastern Atlantic may 
 be briefly summed up as follows. They appear in large 
 numbers in early May off the west coast of the Hebrides, 
 where one factory in Harris killed no less than forty-two in 
 1905. They then strike due north, passing the Faroes, 
 where a few are killed ; and make their summer home in 
 the seas off Finmark, Spitzbergen, the White Sea, and the 
 north-east coast of Iceland. Captain Larsen, who has made 
 five trips to East Greenland in summer, has also seen many 
 there. In October all these Blue Whales strike due south, 
 going at full-speed, holding out for the main Atlantic, into 
 which they disappear for the winter. 
 
 In the water the Blue Whale, doubtless owing to its vast 
 bulk, is somewhat slow and stately in its movements. It 
 
 ' I saw two individuals about two hundred miles east of St. John's in 
 November 1906.
 
 MODERN FIN-WHALING 167 
 
 travels in search of food at the rate of about six miles an 
 hour, but when frightened, travelling, or struck by a harpoon, 
 it can go at twenty knots, a speed which it can maintain for 
 a long period. In feeding on a bank of "kril," it swims on 
 its side, erects a fin, and gives a sudden movement of " full- 
 speed ahead " ; at the same moment the vast mouth is opened 
 and slowly closed, encompassing about twenty barrels of 
 shrimps. As the mouth closes the water is forced outwards, 
 and may be seen rushing in a white stream from the sides 
 of the baleen, whilst the food remains resting on the inside 
 of the "plates," to be swallowed at leisure. All the BalcBnop- 
 tera feed in this manner, and I have seen a large Finback 
 rolling round and round the steamer, taking in its huge 
 mouthfuls with evident satisfaction, and caring as little for 
 our presence as if we were not there at all — in fact it seemed 
 a miracle that he could avoid striking the vessel with his 
 great jaws. 
 
 The Blue Whale generally remains under water during his 
 great dive, according to my watch, for ten to twenty minutes. 
 On reaching the surface he " blows," sending up a spout of 
 air and steam to a height of from 20 to 30 feet. He rolls 
 over, slowly exposing the blow-hole, and afterwards the small 
 back fin. Then he makes a series of from eight to twelve 
 short dives on the surface, occupying four minutes. When 
 making his great dive he often raises his tail right out of the 
 water, but not at such a perpendicular angle as the Humpback, 
 It is during the time the whale is making these short dives 
 on the surface that the steam whaler races in and endeavours 
 to get the shot. When struck by the harpoon and its burst- 
 ing charge, the great Blue Whale often dives at once and 
 sinks to the bottom of the sea. Frequently it rushes off at 
 high speed, and then, coming to the surface, dies after a short
 
 168 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 " flurry." Sometimes, however, when the whale is hit too 
 far back or near and under the backbone (in which case the 
 bomb does not explode), a long and difficult chase, protracted 
 for hours, ensues. On the whole this is a fairly tame whale, 
 and not considered dangerous, if ordinary precautions are 
 observed. The value is from ;^ioo to ;^i50. 
 
 Although not so difficult to kill as the Finback, this species 
 is possessed of greater strength and staying power than any 
 whale, and some exciting experiences have fallen to the lot 
 of the Fin-whalers engaged in its chase. The most remarkable 
 and protracted hunt on record after a whale was experienced 
 by the steamer Puma in 1903. The most exaggerated ac- 
 counts of this appeared in the American and English papers, 
 where the journalists went so far as to say that the whale 
 had towed the ship from Newfoundland to Labrador, and 
 other wild statements. The following particulars were given 
 to me by Hans Johanssen, mate of the Puma, and Captain 
 Christopherson himself, so they are, at any rate, first-hand. 
 
 The Puma spied and "struck" a large Blue Whale, six 
 miles from Placentia, at nine o'clock in the morning. The 
 animal immediately became " wild," and it was found impos- 
 sible to get near enough to fire another harpoon into it, as 
 it came on to blow hard. For the entire day it towed the 
 steamer, with engines at half-speed astern, at a rate of six 
 knots. Towards evening a second rope was made fast to 
 the stern of the vessel and attached to the first line, now 
 " out " one mile. The steamer then put on full-speed ahead. 
 This seemed to incense the whale, which put forth all its 
 strength, and dragged the whole of the after part of the 
 vessel under water, flooding the after cabin and part of the 
 engine-room. The stern rope was immediately cut with an 
 axe and the danger averted. All through the night the
 
 MODERN FIN-WHALING 169 
 
 gallant whale dragged the steamer, with the dead weight of 
 two miles of rope, and the engines going half-speed astern, 
 and at 9 a.m. the following morning the monster seemed to 
 be as lively and powerful as ever. At 10 a.m., however, its 
 strength seemed to decrease, and at 11 it was wallowing on 
 the surface, where, at 12.30, it was finally lanced by the 
 captain. This great fight occupied twenty-eight hours, the 
 whale having dragged the steamer a distance of thirty miles 
 to Cape St. Mary. 
 
 The Common Rorqual, or " Finback," is the second largest 
 whale. Adults are from 60 to 70 feet in length. The upper 
 surface is a dark amber-brown, the lower white. In a few 
 examples, a grey-brown colour covers the whole of the 
 lower parts, and these are known to the Norwegian whale- 
 men as " bastards," and considered by them as separate 
 species. This is, however, an error, as the dark colour is 
 merely an individual variation. The baleen plates are 3 feet 
 in length and 375 in number on each side, being of two 
 colours, blue-grey and yellowish-white. They are more 
 valuable than those of the Blue Whale or the Humpback, but 
 fetch less than the "plates" of Rudolphi Rorqual, which are 
 considered the best quality amongst the Balccnoptera. 
 
 The distribution of this whale is very wide. It travels 
 all over the temperate seas of the northern and southern 
 hemispheres. It is abundant off the Antarctic ice, and num- 
 bers pass up and down the Pacific, and go as far north as 
 the Aleutian Islands and Behring Straits. On the western 
 Atlantic side many winter to the east of the West Indian 
 Islands, and appear off the Massachusetts coast about March, 
 working up into the St. Lawrence and off the south and 
 east coast of Newfoundland, where they stay until August. 
 The main body seem to scatter out on the Grand Banks,
 
 170 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 or move north along the Labrador, where they are very 
 numerous in August and September, in fact until the northern 
 ice comes dovirn and drives them south again. On the British 
 coasts they appear in large numbers off Harris and West 
 Shetland in May, and move north-east very slowly through- 
 out the summer, following the banks of " kril." By September 
 the main herds are still only about loo miles due north of 
 Muckle Flugga (Unst), where I saw 200 all in view at once 
 in 1904. After this the whalemen think they slowly con- 
 tinue their journey north-north-east, and that they turn south- 
 west again in October, bringing with them the main body, 
 which has summered up on the Finmark coast, Spitzbergen, 
 Iceland, and the White Sea. In general habits this whale 
 is very similar to the Blue Whale, but it is a more active 
 creature. It swims faster, and remains under water for a 
 shorter period (about eight to twelve minutes). 
 
 Its superficial dives are also made more quickly, only from 
 six to ten appearances taking place. 
 
 In the midst of "kril" or caplin it moves very slowly, 
 and drives the " bait " together by circling round it. When 
 thus engaged Finbacks seem to be quite oblivious of the 
 presence of ships, and roll under the bows and body of the 
 ship with a disregard of their own safety which is truly 
 astonishing ; and yet so delicate is their judgment of distance 
 and sense of proportion that they seldom, if ever, come into 
 collision with a vessel.^ Strange as it may seem, these feeding 
 whales are sometimes most difficult to fire at from the ship. I 
 have been in a whaler within a stone's-throw of a big Finback 
 for a quarter of an hour, and the captain, with all his skilful 
 
 ' A Finner moving in a mass of "kril" struck a whaler on the coast of Finmark 
 in 1890. The whale was stunned, and the vessel sustained iittle injury beyond 
 some bent plates.
 
 MODERN FIN-WHALING 171 
 
 manceuvring, has been unable to obtain a shot, the whale 
 never once rising within proper distance of the firing circle. 
 When feeding, the Finback turns on its side, gives a " start " 
 forward, and erects the pectoral. As it rolls slowly over, it 
 also shows the whole of one side of the tail. About six to 
 ten feet below the surface it opens its enormous mouth, and 
 closes it slowly, to take in vast numbers of " kril." As the 
 mouth shuts one sees a white stream of water rushing from the 
 outer sides of the baleen plates. The whale opens and shuts 
 its mouth several times before coming to the surface. In 
 the vicinity of the feeding operations the sea is suffused with a 
 mass of oily matter, in which numerous small marine creatures, 
 too small for the eye of man to see, are present. On these 
 descend swarms of kittiwakes, Leach's petrels, and Manx 
 greater and dusky shearwaters, which are for ever scouring 
 the seas on the look-out for such provender. Finbacks some- 
 times associate in scattered parties, or even in one great herd, 
 the individual members of which keep at a considerable distance 
 from one another. Often they are met with singly, or in family 
 parties consisting of the bull, cow, and calf of the previous 
 year. Off the coast of Shetland they are usually found from 
 thirty to ninety miles distance in 120 fathoms of water (Foden), 
 but are sometimes seen within a mile of the land. Like the 
 Blue Whale and some of the dolphins, they seem fond of the 
 company of large vessels, and will play round these without 
 alarm. 
 
 The food consists of a few herrings, caplin, Mallottis 
 arcticus, white fish, small squid, and various crustaceans. It 
 is the general opinion of the whalers that this species only 
 eats herrings when crustaceans are unobtainable. Very few 
 Finbacks have been obtained in Shetland whose mouths or 
 stomachs contained herrings, but one was taken at the
 
 172 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 Norrona Station, on 8th June 1905, which had devoured a 
 small quantity of herrings. 
 
 On being struck the Finback is either killed dead on the 
 spot, or rushes away at a speed of about 15 knots for a 
 distance of two or more miles. Most of the steamers carry 
 about 2^ miles of line. When it is exhausted the rope is 
 "clamped," z.e. held fast by the winch, and the steamer is 
 towed at a rate of 6 to 10 knots. As the efforts of the whale 
 slacken, quarter-, half-, or full-speed astern is employed by the 
 steamer to act as a drag, and so the battle goes on until the 
 monster is exhausted, or the harpoon "drawn." Space will 
 not allow me to give any of the numerous stories of the 
 exciting hunts to which one listens in the galley and the cabin 
 of the Atlantic Fin-whalers, but they prove that the chase of 
 this great whale calls for the sternest courage and readiest 
 resource. To stand up in a tiny "pram" amidst a whirl of 
 waters and lance a fighting Finback is no child's play, and 
 requires that three-o'clock-in-the-morning pluck that the 
 Norsemen possess in a high degree. Many accidents have 
 occurred to the boat crews when engaged in "lancing," and 
 one or two to the steamers themselves. The whaler Gracia, 
 belonging to Vadso, was sunk by a Finner in 1894 in the 
 Veranger Fjord. In 1896 the Jarjford was sunk in ten 
 minutes by one of these whales charging it when about sixty 
 miles north of the North Cape. A heavy sea was running 
 at the time, and the crew crowded into two small prams 
 which would probably have been overwhelmed had not 
 Captain Castberg, hunting in another steamer, come to their 
 rescue. 
 
 The following notes from my diary were made when, as 
 guest of Mr. Haldane, I shared in the chase of the Finback 
 in August 1904: —
 
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 X 
 
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 MODERN FIN-WHALING 173 
 
 After a day of fruitless battling with the wind and sea 
 we lay up in Balta Sound, Unst, for the night. At midday 
 the wind went down, and the captain and mate, who had 
 gone to the summit of a mountain to spy, were seen running 
 at full-speed for the boat. Steam was up and the anchor 
 weighed as soon as their feet touched the deck, and we ran 
 out for one mile eastward, where we found a large bull and 
 cow Finner. Several times a shot seemed imminent, but 
 the whales went down. After two hours' pursuit the captain 
 decided that these whales were too "wild," so we stood out 
 to the north, encountering several herds of Pilot Whales and 
 three Lesser Rorqual, the first I had seen. About six o'clock 
 in the evening we encountered the fringe of the main herd 
 of Finbacks, which were spouting in all directions. We 
 pursued whale after whale, but all seemed wild except one 
 monster which refused to leave the side of the vessel, and in 
 consequence could not be shot at. At last the mate got a 
 shot at 7 P.M., and missed. He was much crestfallen, and 
 retired to the galley to enjoy the healing balm of coffee and 
 potatoes. At 7.30 it was bitterly cold when Captain Stokken 
 again stood beside the gun, and we were in full pursuit of 
 a large female Finback that seemed tamer than the rest. 
 Eventually in its final " roll " the whale raised itself about 
 ten yards from the gun, and the whaler tipping the muzzle 
 downwards fired and struck the quarry under the backbone. 
 
 At first the Finback was rather quiet, and then it began 
 to run, the strong line rushing out at a speed of about 
 15 knots. When some two miles of rope had gone over the 
 bow I turned to Captain Stokken, and said : 
 
 "How much line have you got?" 
 
 "About three mile," was the curt reply. 
 
 "But when that three miles goes, what then?"
 
 174 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 "Oh, well," was the imperturbable answer, "then I check 
 line, and we see which is strongest, whale or rope. Perhaps 
 harpoon draws out." 
 
 In the course of a minute the captain gave the order 
 to check the line. The strain now became terrific, the two- 
 inch rope straining and groaning as if it would burst. At 
 the same moment the little steamer leaped forward and raced 
 over the seas at about twelve miles an hour. There was a 
 feeling of intense exhilaration as we rushed northwards, the 
 spray flying from our bows as the ship leapt from crest to 
 crest in the heavy swell. I have enjoyed the rushes of 
 gallant thirty and even forty-pound salmon in heavy water on 
 the Tay, the supreme moments in an angler's life, but that was 
 mere child's play to the intense excitement which we now 
 experienced during the next three hours. To be in tow of a 
 wild whale is something to experience and remember to one's 
 dying day. You feel that you are alive, and that you are 
 there with the sport of kings. No wonder the Norwegians 
 are full of life, and the men, from the captain to the cook, 
 run to their several tasks with eyes and hearts aflame. This 
 is a trade which will stir the blood of the dullest clod, and 
 to men who are one and all the finest seamen in the world, 
 it is the very life and essence of the Viking nature. 
 
 Three hours of this fierce race went on, and the whale 
 seemed as if it would take us to Iceland. The gallant Fin- 
 back was as fresh as ever when the captain gave the order, 
 "Quarter-speed astern." Another tremendous strain on the 
 rope, the churning of the backward-driving screw, and our 
 speed was at once reduced to lo knots. It was marvellous 
 the strength of the animal. The minutes and even the hours 
 fled by, still the great cetacean held on its northward course 
 without a check. Three hours went by ; then came the order,
 
 MODERN FIN-WHALING 175 
 
 " Half-speed astern," and we were down to 6 knots, the 
 vessel and the whale still fighting the battle for the mastery. 
 In another hour the whale showed visible signs of weakening, 
 when " Full-speed astern " brought matters to a standstill. The 
 machinery of man and the natural strength of the beast still 
 worried on for another hour, and then we saw the steamer 
 moving backwards ; the whale was done, and could pull no 
 more. 
 
 The rope was then slackened, hoisted on to a "giving" 
 pulley, and then wound on to the powerful steam winch, 
 which, acting like the fisherman's reel, at once began to 
 "take in." Nothing was heard for another hour but the 
 monotonous throb of the engine, until at last on the crest of 
 a wave, about 300 yards to windward, was seen the great 
 Finback, rolling over and over, spouting continuously, but so 
 tired that it was unable to drag or dive. 
 
 The captain now gave the order, " Lower away to lance." 
 There was a fairly heavy sea running, as there always is off 
 Shetland, and yet I never saw anything more smartly done 
 than the way in which those Norwegians flung their light 
 "pram" into the water and jumped in from the bulwarks. 
 Other men were ready with the oars, which they handed to 
 the two rowers, whilst the mate seized the long 15-foot 
 "killing" lance, and the small party rowed rapidly away 
 towards the whale. This is the dangerous part of whaling ; 
 the killing of the Finback, and more especially the Humpback, 
 is neither a safe nor an easy matter. If the whale is not 
 quite exhausted, it rapidly rights itself, and goes for the boat 
 and its occupants, whom it endeavours to strike with its 
 flippers ; sometimes it turns away from the boat and brings 
 the tail sharply downwards on boat and men. Many fatal 
 accidents have occurred on such occasions.
 
 176 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 Hans Andersen, the mate, stood up in the stern, holding 
 his long lance, as the men rowed slowly up to the leviathan. 
 Then the rowers turned the boat round, and backed it in 
 towards their prey. At times they were lost in the great 
 swell, and then they would appear apparently beside the 
 sea-monster, whose pathetic rolling was at once changed into 
 spasmodic life. The whale, churning the water, now righted 
 itself, and at once turned on its attackers, who retreated at 
 full-speed. Now on one side and now on another, the plucky 
 mate tried to approach and bring off his death-thrust, but 
 all to no avail. Every time the exhausted cetacean had just 
 enough strength left to carry the war into the enemy's country, 
 and to turn the tables on its opponents. Mist and darkness 
 were rolling up, the sea was rising, and still the duel of 
 attack and defence went on. Full twenty times Andersen 
 got within 25 feet of his objective, and yet dare not give 
 the thrust, which, if attempted too soon, would mean his own 
 death. At last darkness hid the combatants from view, when 
 Stokken turned to me and said : 
 
 "This very wild whale. Must give him another shot, or 
 Andersen will get hurt." He reached up and blew the steam 
 whistle three times as a signal for the boat to return. In a 
 few minutes Andersen's cheerful face was looking up at us, 
 the lance held high and streaming with blood. 
 
 " Ha, so you stab him," said Stokken. 
 
 "Ja, just as you blow the whistle," replied the mate, 
 with a smile. The pram and its occupants were soon aboard, 
 and the whale rolled in and lashed alongside by the tail. 
 The chase had lasted seven hours. 
 
 Few Finbacks fight so well as this, but it was a sight 
 to see, and one I shall never forget. 
 
 Rudolphi's Rorqual, commonly called the "Seijval," or
 
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 MODERN FIN-WHALING 177 
 
 " Seiwhale," is another common species in northern waters, 
 but is not so much souo-ht after owingr to its inferior size. 
 The baleen, however, is most valuable of all, next to that of 
 the two Right Whales. Its general habits are similar to the 
 last named, but it is much swifter in its movements than 
 either of them. When first struck it races off at great 
 speed — Norwegians say 25 knots an hour; but this is 
 seldom maintained for more than a quarter of an hour, and 
 it is then easily killed. This whale often comes close in 
 shore, like the Humpback, and may often be seen in the 
 tideways of Scotland close to the northern islands. 
 
 The last of the whales which form the prey of the Balcsn- 
 optera hunters is the Humpback {Megaptera boops). It is 
 a very strong, thick-set animal, 50 feet long and often 40 feet 
 in circumference. It varies in colour from jet black all over 
 with white outer edges to its 15-foot pectoral fins to black 
 above and white underneath. The throat and breast grooves 
 are deeper and not so numerous as in the other varieties of 
 this group. No whale has so wide a distribution as the 
 Humpback, and it is safe to say that it is found in all the 
 large waters, whether warm or cold. It is very numerous 
 along the Antarctic ice, the Indian Ocean, the sea off the 
 Cape, and south to New Zealand. In the Pacific Islands 
 it is numerous, and there it is hunted with small boats ; in 
 the Vancouver and Behring Straits it is found in summer. 
 In the North Atlantic it is abundant on both sides and, I 
 believe, constantly passes from America to Shetland and 
 Norway. It also frequents the White Sea, Iceland, Green- 
 land, and the coast of Labrador at various seasons. 
 
 At Tobago and Santa Lucia the Humpback fishery is 
 worked by Americans. Captain Scammon gives an interest- 
 ing account in his book of the Humpback in the Pacific, and 
 
 M
 
 178 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 the methods of taking it employed in the sixties and 
 seventies, and for a reliable narrative of the chase of this 
 whale in Friendly Islands the reader will find " My First 
 Whale," by Stanley Mylius, most entertaining. 
 
 In Europe the Humpback was not hunted until the intro- 
 duction of the little steamers and the bomb-gun invented by 
 Svend Foyn (1865), but now some hundreds are annually 
 killed in the northern waters of the Atlantic. In Shetland 
 about four or five per station is the usual take. Between 
 the years 1865 and 1885 large numbers of Humpbacks were 
 killed off the Finmark coast by the Norwegians ; in fact, so 
 successful were these steamers that they have decimated the 
 BalcBHOptera in the neighbourhood of the north-eastern waters. 
 A close time is now, however, in force. 
 
 Humpbacks appear in spring in the northern waters, and 
 often come close in shore, where they have been seen rubbing 
 their noses, lips, and fins on the rocks to free themselves 
 from the objectionable barnacles which grow on these parts. 
 They feed principally on " kril," but also eat a variety of 
 fish, such as caplin, &c. 
 
 The Humpback may be described as the clown of the sea. 
 It is of a joyous, lively disposition, rollicking and sporting 
 in the ocean with all the happy irresponsibility of a monstrous 
 child. We can hardly imagine a huge creature like a whale 
 being frolicsome, but such is the case, and within the limits 
 of its vast bulk it contrives to gret a lot of fun out of life. 
 In fact it is a sort of Marine White-tailed Gnu. The animal 
 loves to fling itself clear out of the water, coming down with 
 a huge splash, and to see two or three playing and romping 
 in a summer sea is quite an education in elephantine joy. 
 
 As a rule these whales are of a fearless disposition, and 
 will permit the close approach of a boat or small steamer.
 
 MODERN FIN-WHALING 179 
 
 They seem to have no regular mating season, but the young 
 are born during the summer months. " In the mating season," 
 says Captain Scammon, " they are noted for their amorous 
 antics. At such times their caresses are of the most amusing 
 and novel character, and these performances have doubtless 
 given rise to the fabulous tales of the sword-fish and thrasher 
 attacking whales. When lying by the side of each other, 
 the Megapteras frequently administer alternate blows with 
 their long fins, which love-pats may, on a still day, be heard 
 at a distance of miles. They also rub each other with the 
 same huge and flexible arms, rolling occasionally from side 
 to side, and indulging in other gambols which can easier be 
 imagined than described. The time of gestation is not known, 
 but in all probability it is the same as that of other large 
 cetaceans, not exceeding ten or twelve months. The calf 
 when brought forth, is about one-fourth the length of the 
 dam ; and it suckles by holding the teat between the extremity 
 of the jaws or lips, while the mother reclines a little on one 
 side, raising the posterior portion of her form nearly out of 
 the water, and lying in a relaxed condition. This peculiar 
 manner of suckling the young appears to be common to all 
 the whalebone whales. 
 
 When the whales first arrive on the Finmark coast the 
 Humpbacks are the only species of the large whales which 
 will voluntarily come into shallow water. They do so, so 
 say the Fin-whalers, to rub their heads and pectorals against 
 the rocks so as to free them from the barnacles which at 
 this season seem to cause them great annoyance. Captains 
 Castberg and Nilsen state that they have seen the Hump- 
 back rubbing their heads against rocks so close in shore 
 that a stone could have been thrown upon their backs. At 
 this season, too, they have often been observed dozing on
 
 180 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 the surface of the sea in exactly the same curious position 
 as the Californian Grey Whale, Rhachianectes Glaucus as 
 figured by Scammon.^ This attitude of the Humpback at 
 rest was first described to me by Captain Nilsen, and its 
 accuracy is confirmed by Captains Larsen and Bull. Hump- 
 back will drift about motionless for half-an-hour, with the 
 head held in this perpendicular fashion, respiring the while 
 after the manner of other mammals.* 
 
 These whales exhibit unusual attachment to their young, 
 and will stand by and endeavour to defend them even if 
 seriously wounded. This affection is reciprocated by the 
 calf, as the following incident will show. 
 
 Captain Nilsen, of the whaler St. Lawrence, was hunting 
 in Hermitage Bay, Newfoundland, in June 1903, when he 
 came up to a huge cow Humpback and her calf. After 
 getting " fast " to the mother and seeing that she was ex- 
 hausted. Captain Nilsen gave the order to lower away the 
 " pram " for the purpose of lancing. However, when the 
 boat approached the wounded whale, the young one kept 
 moving round the body of its mother and getting between 
 the boat and its prey. Every time the mate endeavoured 
 to lance, the calf intervened, and by holding its tail towards 
 the boat and smashing it down whenever they approached, 
 kept the stabber at bay for half-an-hour. Finally the boat 
 had to be recalled for fear of an accident, and a fresh 
 harpoon was fired into the mother, causing instant death. 
 The faithful calf now came and lay alongside the body of 
 its dead mother, where it was badly lanced, but not killed. 
 Owing to its position it was found impossible to kill it, so 
 
 ' " Marine Mammalia and American Whale Fishery," by Captain Scammon, p. 32. 
 
 ^ Fabricius noted something of this kind, for he says that when the sea is calm 
 the Humpback rests as if it was asleep ; at other times on its side and beat itself 
 with the pectorals.
 
 MODERN FIN- WHALING 181 
 
 another bomb-harpoon was fired into it. Even this did not 
 complete the tragedy, and it required another lance-stroke 
 to finish the gallant little whale. 
 
 Unlike the Balcenoptera which seldom eat fish, the 
 Humpback consumes quantities of the little white fish on its 
 first appearance in northern waters. It is also very partial 
 to the common squid and various small crustaceans. Its 
 principal food, however, is the small crustacean Euphausia 
 inermis^ on which it feeds almost exclusively from June to 
 September. If caplin are encountered and " kril " are 
 absent, it will eat no other food. Herrings do not seem 
 to be a part of the diet.^ 
 
 Like the Finback, this whale usually takes its food side- 
 ways, but Nilsen has seen two in the act of feeding and 
 with mouth open in the usual attitude. 
 
 Humpbacks may be easily recognised at a distance by 
 the form of the "spout." This rises in two separate 
 streams, which are, however, united into one as they ascend 
 and expand. At the top it disperses freely into vapour, 
 and looks larger than that emitted by any of the other 
 species of large whale. It "drifts" out at once into a 
 puffy ball of spray. An apt description by the whale 
 captains is that the "blow" is "like the smoke of a cigar." 
 When moving to windward the respiration dissolves into 
 smoke at once, and almost obscures the animal. In still 
 water it rises to a height of 12 to 15 feet. Scammon says 
 20 feet and more ; but this is, I think, slightly exaggerated. 
 On rising to the surface the number of respirations is ex- 
 ceedingly variable, more so in fact than in any of the larger 
 
 ' Sometimes called Thysanopoda inermis. 
 
 ^ Mr. Southwell mentions a case of a Humpback Whale which was found dead 
 after indulging too freely on cormorants. A7in. Scot. A'a/. Hist.^ April 1904, p. 86.
 
 182 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 species of whales. " Sometimes the animal," says Scammon 
 (p. 42), "blows only once, at another time six, eight or ten, 
 and from that up to fifteen or twenty times," This is, I 
 think, correct. A Humpback which I observed on the 
 Greenbank, Newfoundland, spouted eight, ten, and twelve 
 times. The periods of absence under water during the big 
 dives average about five minutes. Baer, Lilljeborg, Jouan, 
 and Racovitza all bear testimony to the warm and foetid 
 breath of this whale. In fact all the large whales are foul 
 in this respect, the Humpback particularly so." ^ 
 
 The Norwegians considered this a somewhat difficult 
 animal to kill and by far the most dangerous whale to 
 lance, not even excepting the Sperm. Unless mortally 
 struck it rushes off at great speed and dashes about in an 
 irresponsible manner, at one time forming great circles, at 
 another heading straight for the ship. 
 
 Humpbacks sometimes give trouble when struck too high 
 in the body or only slightly wounded, and several serious 
 accidents have occurred both to steamers and to the men 
 in the small "prams" when trying to lance the wounded 
 whale. OwinCT to its sudden rushes and free use of tail 
 and pectorals the Humpback is more feared by the Norwegian 
 whalemen than any other species. The following authentic 
 instances have been given to me by Norwegian captains : — 
 
 In May 1903 the whaling steamer Minerva., under Captain 
 Johan Petersen, hunting from the station in Isafjord, made 
 up to and struck a bull Humpback. The beast was wild, so 
 they fired two harpoons into it, both of which were well 
 placed. In the dim light the captain and two men went 
 off in the " pram " to lance the wounded whale, when the 
 latter suddenly smashed its tail downwards, breaking the 
 ' " The Mammals of Great Britain and Ireland," vol. iii.
 
 MODERN FIN-WHALING 183 
 
 boat to pieces, killing the captain and one man, and breaking 
 the leg of the other. The last named was, however, rescued 
 clinging to some spars. 
 
 A most curious accident happened on the coast of Finmark 
 about ten years ago. A steamer had just got fast to a 
 Humpback, which, in one of its mad rushes, broke through 
 the side of the vessel at the coal bunkers, thus allowing 
 a great inrush of water which put out the fires and sunk 
 the ship in three minutes. The crew had just time to float 
 the boats and were rescued by another whaler some hours 
 later. 
 
 Other whales which are occasional visitors to Newfound- 
 land are the Lesser Rorqual {^Balcenoptera rostrata), the Pilot 
 Whale {Globicephalus melas), and the Sperm Whale {Physeier 
 tnacrocephalus), of which a few males are killed annually. 
 Until 1830 the Southern Right Whale {^Balcena australis) 
 was an irregular visitor, but of late years it has not been 
 observed although still known about Long Island, New 
 York State.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE CHASE OF THE BLUE WHALE 
 
 On reaching the whale factory of St. Lawrence, on 15th 
 August, I found the most perfect plant for the manufacture of 
 whale products. Even the land about the buildings had been 
 dressed with whale-guano, and was growing a crop of hay 
 that any English farmer might have envied. St. Lawrence 
 is an up-to-date whale factory under the immediate super- 
 vision of Dr. Rismulier, the German-American scientist, who 
 has done more for whaling and the use of whale products 
 than any other living man. To him is owed the utilisation 
 of every part of the whale, including the flesh, the blood and 
 liver, and parts of the skin which were only regarded as 
 wastage a few years ago. 
 
 The cost of building and running a whale factory is very 
 great. The outlay on the buildings, engines, steamer and 
 appurtenances, and boiling houses cost from ^8000 to 
 ^10,000; labour and coal for one season, ^800 — so that a 
 good supply of whales is necessary to make the business 
 pay. In addition to this the Government charges an annual 
 licence of ;^300 per factory. 
 
 The manager told me that they had not killed a Blue 
 Whale (Sulphur-Bottom) since May, and that my chance of 
 seeing one was most remote, even if the fog lifted. The 
 hunting steamer was to leave in the evening for a cruise, and 
 might be away for any time from one to six days, so I made 
 a few preparations, and went aboard as the sun was setting. 
 
 184
 
 THE CHASE OF THE BLUE WHALE 185 
 
 The little steamers used in the pursuit of the Balccn- 
 optera are vessels of about loo tons burthen and 95 feet 
 in length. They can steam fast — from twelve to fifteen knots 
 — and can turn in their own length. Up in the bows is the 
 heavy swivel gun which has back and front sights. The 
 charge is half a- pound of powder. The harpoon is four and 
 a half feet long, furnished with a diamond-shaped head, 
 which flies open when the time-fuse explodes. The main 
 shaft has four iron flukes which are tied with string, and 
 these open and anchor the main shaft in the whale on the 
 explosion. The after part of this iron shaft is divided, and 
 in this opening runs the iron ring to which is attached a 
 strong manilla rope, two or three inches in diameter. It is 
 unusual to fire at a whale at greater distance than forty 
 yards, the shots being generally taken at about ten to twenty 
 yards range. To the uninitiated, it may seem difficult to 
 miss a huge creature like a whale at a distance of twenty 
 yards, but such is often the case, as the roll and pitch of 
 the ship, which in these vessels is very quick, renders 
 accurate shooting by no means easy. 
 
 The crew of the St. Lawrence consisted of — Captain 
 Nilsen, who was also first gunner; a mate, Christian Johanes- 
 sen ; an engineer, and four seamen, each of whom could take 
 any part, from shooting the whales to cooking the dinner. 
 They were all Norwegians, and very cheery, modest fellows. 
 I felt I would like to sail about the world amongst unvisited 
 places, and hunt all kinds of wild beasts, with none but 
 Norwegians as my companions. They are the best of all 
 comrades, always good-natured, loving sport, especially if it 
 is dangerous, and absolutely self-reliant. 
 
 We steamed out of the harbour of Little St. Lawrence 
 at 9 P.M., and at once entered dense fog and a heavy swell.
 
 186 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 The vessel pitched so abominably that sleep was out of the 
 question. Next morning we were about thirty miles off, 
 steaming about, and peering through the mist without seeing 
 a single spout ; and the next day was but a repetition of the 
 previous one. On the third night it began to blow great 
 guns, and I was flung out of the bunk right across the 
 cabin, narrowly escaping some broken ribs ; at any rate I 
 was sore for a week afterwards. 
 
 Those who have been across the Atlantic in a breeze in 
 one of the great floating palaces have no conception of what 
 it meant to weather out half a gale in a little 95-foot whaler. 
 On the one you can sleep, walk, and eat in comfort ; in the 
 other you are tossed about like a floating cork. Once, whilst 
 crossing the cabin, I was flung clean up to the ceiling, and 
 just saved my head from striking the wood by putting up 
 my arm. The only way to obtain any rest was to be nailed 
 in one's bunk, which, with straps and ties, I did with com- 
 parative success. 
 
 During the third night Captain Nilsen decided to run to 
 the coast for shelter, and we only reached a pretty little bay, 
 called Petty Fort, in time, for it was now blowing a full 
 gale. Here we lay for twelve hours, and I went ashore 
 to try and buy some fresh meat, as a diet of salt junk, 
 ship-biscuit, and doubtful coffee had somewhat chilled my 
 enthusiasm. 
 
 Sheep were scarce, and the houses of the owners had to 
 be hunted for amongst the rocks, there being no roads ; but 
 at last I discovered a man whose wife, he said, would be 
 only too willing to sell me a lamb. The good lady, however, 
 at first refused point-blank to sell, as she required the four 
 she possessed for her winter knitting. A loud argument 
 now ensued between the wife and her lord and master, each
 
 THE CHASE OF THE BLUE WHALE 187 
 
 taking opposite views, till at last the man seized her and 
 retired to the next room, where the discussion became so 
 heated that I feared it would end in blows, so I rose to 
 interfere. It appeared that the woman did not wish to sell 
 the lamb, but if she did she could not possibly ask more 
 than one dollar (about 4s. 6d.) for it ; a price she considered 
 it doubtful I would pay. " Besides," she added, " it's as wild 
 as a deer, and no one can catch it." Finally I was allowed 
 to have the lamb if I could catch it, and would return the 
 skin to her ; a decision which pleased all parties. The woman 
 had said the lamb was wild ; it was wild — as wild as a hawk. 
 The captain and I pursued that wretched animal amongst the 
 hills, the woods, and the rocks for the best part of two hours. 
 I longed for my rifle, but it was far away, and we had to 
 resort to the armament of primeval man, with which we were 
 at last successful. Next morning at breakfast the captain, 
 the mate, and I devoured the whole lamb in a few minutes, 
 and we then understood why the price was one dollar. 
 
 At midday the glass went up rapidly, and the captain 
 said that though there was much sea outside, fine weather 
 might be expected in a few hours. It was, therefore, his 
 intention to steam right out about seventy miles south-west 
 to the Saint Pierre bank, off the coast of St. Pierre, where 
 he expected to find Finbacks and, perhaps, a Blue Whale. 
 Next morning we were on our hunting ground. The sea 
 had moderated considerably, and the air was clear. We 
 could now see for several miles, and soon observed two Fin- 
 backs of moderate size. These we pursued for three hours, 
 but they were both exceedingly wild and quite unapproach- 
 able. When " kril " is scarce whales always travel fast and 
 make long dives, and it is difficult to make up before they 
 dive again ; also if the steamer is put after the quarry at full
 
 188 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 speed it makes some noise which the whales hear and, in 
 consequence, accelerate their speed. In the afternoon we 
 found a very large Finback, whose course was followed by a 
 cloud of Leach's Petrel. At one time, as the whale dived 
 slowly in a mass of " kril," these birds were to be seen 
 gathering in a perfect swarm in its wake, and picking the 
 floating Crustacea off the sea. It was a most interesting 
 sight, and I made a sketch of it, which is given here. How- 
 ever, the whale defeated us just as we seemed about to get 
 a shot, and as evening drew on we lost it. 
 
 Friday, i8th August, is one of the red-letter days of my 
 life, so I give it just as it is entered in my diary. 
 
 During the night the captain decided to steam right out 
 for the Greenbank (about one hundred and twenty miles due 
 south of St. Lawrence). The wind had fallen, and I was 
 eating my breakfast and reading Dickens, when at 9 a.m. I 
 heard the engines slow down, and knew that meant whales, 
 so I ran on deck. 
 
 It was a glorious morning, with bright sun and the sea 
 like oil. Far ahead were two spouts of silvery spray, and 
 as we approached I could see they were higher than those 
 of Finbacks. 
 
 "Yes, those are Blaa-hval" (Blue Whales), said Johanes- 
 sen, "and we shall kill to-day." 
 
 We were within three hundred yards of the larger of the 
 two whales when it rolled over, showing its enormous tail, 
 and disappeared for the "big" dive. 
 
 "That's a ninety-foot bull," said the captain, as I stood 
 beside the gun. His eyes glistened as he swayed the swivel 
 to and fro to make sure that the engine of destruction worked 
 well. Both whales were under the sea for a quarter of an
 
 THE CHASE OF THE BLUE WHALE 189 
 
 hour by my watch, and then burst up about a quarter of a 
 mile ahead, throwing a cloud of spray thirty feet into the air. 
 
 " Full speed ahead and then ' safte ' " (slowly), and we ran 
 up to within fifty yards of the rolling slate monsters, which 
 were now travelling fast, although not wild. When a shot 
 seemed imminent they both disappeared from view, after about 
 twelve surface dives, and we lost them again for another ten 
 minutes. When next viewed the larger whale was half a 
 mile astern, so we turned and went for him again, only 
 reaching the animal in time to see him disappear for the 
 third time. The actual big dives of this whale lasted lo, 15, 
 14, 12^, and 20 minutes, and we then left him, as the captain 
 considered the other one might be tamer. This, however, 
 did not prove to be the case. Whilst racing to cut off the 
 whale during its surface appearance we spied a third Blue 
 Whale spouting about half a mile to the east, so the order 
 to turn was given, and we approached and hunted it (another 
 bull) for some time. Luck seemed quite against us, when the 
 Blue Whale was suddenly joined by two very large Finbacks 
 which we had not previously seen. The advent of these new- 
 comers seemed to quiet the larger animal. They made several 
 dives, and then disappeared almost under our bows, and yet 
 passing onward, so that a shot seemed certain if they rose 
 again. 
 
 It was a moment of intense excitement when the two Fin- 
 backs rose right in front of the bows and within easy shot, 
 but the captain and I were gazing fixedly into the green and 
 clear depths, looking for the Blue Whale, when far away down 
 beneath the water I saw a great copper-grey form rising 
 rapidly right underneath the ship. The captain signalled with 
 his hand to the man at the wheel on the bridge, turning the 
 vessel off a point just as the ghostly form of the whale,
 
 190 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 growing larger and larger every moment until it seemed as 
 big as the ship, burst on the surface beside us, and broke 
 the water within ten yards. In a moment we were drenched 
 in blinding spray as the whale spouted in our faces. I turned 
 my arm to protect my camera and to click the shutter as the 
 captain fired his gun. The latter planted the harpoon fairly 
 in the grreat creature's lunofs. 
 
 "Fast!" yelled the cook, who had rushed on deck bran- 
 dishing a kettle of potatoes in one hand. Crimson flecks of 
 blood floating on the emerald sea alone told of the success 
 of the shot. When the crew had seen all they wished then 
 there was a lull of silence. The captain heaved a sigh, the 
 sigh of one who obtains relief after some tense and long- 
 drawn strain. Nothing was heard except the flop, flop of 
 the line as it rolled slowly out, and the movement of the 
 men as they ran quietly to their posts beside the steam - 
 winch and the line-coil down below. 
 
 " Was that a death-shot ? " I asked the captain. 
 
 " Don't know, sir," he answered ; " I think it run a bit. 
 The bomb did not burst." 
 
 It was so. The line at first slowly dribbled out, and 
 then it began to go faster and faster, until it rushed from 
 the bow at such speed that I thought it would catch fire. 
 
 " He's going to travel now," said Nilsen, pulling me 
 away from the smoking rope. " You must not stand there. 
 If the rope breaks you might get killed." 
 
 We repaired to the bridge to get a better view. 
 
 " Two lines gone now " (about 500 yards), said my 
 companion. " I fear I hit him too far back." 
 
 At this moment all eyes were riveted on a great com- 
 motion in the sea about 500 yards away. The next instant 
 the whale appeared, rolling and fighting on the surface.
 
 THE CHASE OF THE BLUE WHALE 191 
 
 It lashed the sea into white spume with its flippers and 
 raised its head frequently right out of the water, opening 
 its immense jaws. The leviathan of the deep was fighting 
 hard with death, but the harpoon had penetrated its vitals, 
 and its struggles only lasted about two minutes. Soon it 
 grew weaker and weaker, until, casting forth a thin spout 
 of red blood, it threw up its tail and sank in one mighty 
 swirl. 
 
 The first operation in raising the dead whale from the 
 bottom is to take in the slack line. This is done by one 
 man mounting the rigging and placing the rope over a 
 strong running pulley, which receives play by means of a 
 powerful spring or heavy lead concealed in the hold of the 
 ship. At first all is easy, and then the line receives a 
 tremendous strain as it lifts the carcase from the depths. 
 
 The winch is set in motion, and with each rise of the 
 ship we notice the " give " of the line and the utility of the 
 spring which prevents the strain being either sudden or 
 excessive. 
 
 For half-aa-hour the powerful steam reel goes pounding 
 on until the finer line of the gun rope comes up over 
 the side. Then looking down you see the yellow grey 
 ghost appear far below in the limpid depths. In another 
 moment the mystery has developed into form, and the great 
 Blue Whale comes floating to the surface, with the hilt of 
 the harpoon buried in its side. 
 
 Johanessen now passes a rope over the tail whilst I 
 make some colour sketches and notes immediately after 
 death — an important point for the artist, as whales lose their 
 rich colour very rapidly, and are generally inaccurately 
 represented in books. 
 
 The rope on the tail is attached to a strong chain which
 
 192 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 loops round the huge member and fastens it securely to the 
 bows of the ship. The flukes of the tail are now cut off. 
 We decide to look for another whale, so the carcase must 
 be set afloat. To achieve this it is necessary to blow it 
 up with steam. This is effected by driving a sharp hollow 
 spear into the stomach ; to this is attached a long rubber 
 hose pipe which connects with the engines of the ship. The 
 whale is then blown up with steam. As soon as a sufficient 
 quantity has entered the iron pipe is withdrawn and the hole 
 plugged with tow. 
 
 A long harpoon, on the top of which floats the Nor- 
 wegian flag, is now fixed to the carcase, and the floating 
 whale is cut adrift. The ensign can be seen twenty miles 
 away on a fine day. 
 
 It took us about half-an-hour to find the big bull which 
 we had hunted in the morning, and for three hours we pur- 
 sued him relentlessly but without success. No other whales 
 appearing in sight, the captain considered it best to return 
 and take our "kill" to port, as decomposition takes place 
 rapidly in these large cetaceans. 
 
 As we approached the carcase, Johanessen, who was stand- 
 ing beside me, suddenly exclaimed, " Look at the big shark ! " 
 
 There, sure enough, was the ugly head of a large shark, 
 tearing off great strips of blubber from the breast of the 
 whale. My companion at once rushed for one of the long 
 stabbing lances, but ere he could use it the shark had slipped 
 off and disappeared. 
 
 On the Labrador coast sharks and killers {Orca gladiator) 
 are so numerous and fierce that they will tear to pieces the 
 carcase of a floating whale in a very short time, so that 
 when a whale is shot it must be taken to the factory at once. 
 These wolves of the sea are so bold that they will tear at
 
 THE CHASE OF THE BLUE WHALE 193 
 
 a whale even when it is fastened to the ship, and Andersen, 
 one of the sailors of the Si. Laioreiice, told me he had killed 
 with the lance as many as ten killer whales in a few minutes, 
 by standing in the ship's bows. 
 
 Our arrival at Little St. Lawrence was hailed with delight, 
 for a " Sulphur " had not been slain since May. The present 
 example measured 78 feet, being considered a fair-sized adult 
 bull. On the following morning, after making some draw- 
 ings, I witnessed the whole process of disintegration. Every 
 part of the whale was utilised, even the blood, which ran 
 in rivers into a huge vat. 
 
 The various processes through which whales pass before 
 being converted into oil, fat, soap, and guano are not of 
 much interest to the general reader, so I will omit them. 
 
 With the man who devised the utilisation of these pro- 
 ducts, Dr. RismuUer, I spent eight days. He insisted on 
 my remaining as his guest, and gave me much valuable 
 information, his general knowledge of whales being very 
 considerable. The scientific attainments of Dr. Rismuller 
 are not appreciated in the New World as they should be. 
 In a society whose one aim and object is the rapid accumu- 
 lation of money, many things of this world that are of real 
 importance and interest are scarcely noticed, that is at the 
 time of their inception ; and so people go hurrying on, only 
 to find too late that they had had a great man in their midst 
 without their knowledge. If Dr. Rismuller had made a 
 fortune rapidly out of his discoveries, people in America, 
 Canada, and Newfoundland would have thought him a wonder- 
 fully " cute " fellow, and would have placed him on the pedestal 
 of fame allotted to successful trust magnates and other human 
 sharks, but as it is others have for the most part benefited by 
 his genius, and he is still comparatively a poor man. 
 
 N
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 ACROSS NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 Before starting on my expedition into the interior it was 
 necessary to return to Placentia, where I met my friend, John 
 McGaw, and the three Newfoundlanders who had arranged 
 to accompany me. Two of these, Bob Saunders and Sandy 
 Butt, have already figured in these pages ; but the third man, 
 Frank Wells, I had only met once, although I knew him to 
 be a hard worker and a good man for woods or canoe. John 
 McGaw (a near neighbour of mine at Horsham) had expressed 
 a wish to visit Newfoundland, and had undertaken to study 
 geography, leaving all the arrangements in my hands. "He 
 travels fastest who travels alone " is one of the truest proverbs, 
 and I must confess that on most occasions I have had no wish 
 for a companion. Now, however, I made the exception, and 
 did not regret it. McGaw was a first-rate comrade, helping in 
 every way — an excellent shot too — a good hand at whatever 
 he turned to, whether in the line of carpentry, mapping, or 
 photography. 
 
 After seeing the canoes and provisions on board we left 
 Placentia in the Glencoe on 2nd September, and arrived at 
 Pushthrough, in Hermitage Bay, on the following evening. 
 Mountains rise from the shore of the south coast, and the 
 scenery would be fine if the timber were less stunted, but 
 exposed as it is to the southerly gales, the trees have not 
 much chance to grow to any size. After leaving Fortune Bay 
 there are only a few inhabitants along the coast. These are 
 
 194
 
 ACROSS NEWFOUNDLAND 195 
 
 mostly concentrated at the cod-drying stations, such as St. 
 Jacques, Harbour Breton, and Gaultois, all pretty little vil- 
 lages nestling under wooded hills. At Pushthrough we found 
 lodging in a small grocer's shop, where McGaw and I had 
 to sleep in one very small and damp bed, out of which we 
 were in continuous danger of falling. 
 
 September 4 broke fine and clear, and with a rattling breeze 
 astern we fairly raced up Bale d'Espoir (Bay Despair) for fifty 
 miles in a small schooner which we had hired. As we ad- 
 vanced the scenery became more and more beautiful until we 
 reached the exit of the Conn River and the telegraph station, 
 where we were obliged to anchor in the middle of the bay 
 on account of the shallowness of the water. The owner of 
 the schooner having refused to proceed further, we were 
 forced to load up our canoes in the middle of the bay and 
 get aboard them in a good breeze, quite a ticklish business, 
 and one for which none of us had much relish. However, 
 this was safely accomplished, and we made for the shore at 
 top speed. Once there all danger was past, and we paddled 
 along happily to the head of the bay — a great sand-flat 
 covered with goosegrass, and the home of thousands of 
 Canada geese in spring. Just as we were about to enter 
 the river a boat was seen chasing in our wake, so I stopped 
 my canoe and was greeted by two men, one of whom — 
 evidently a Micmac Indian — introduced himself as Joe 
 Jeddore. Joe said that he could take me to see Mr. 
 Leslie, the telegraph operator at Conn River, whom I was 
 anxious to thank for certain inquiries he had undertaken 
 on my behalf; so giving my canoe to Frank Wells, and 
 telling him to make camp on the river, I entered the boat 
 and was rowed for two miles to the telegraph station, where 
 I met Mr. Leslie.
 
 196 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 Mr. Leslie is the son of an English army doctor who had 
 fought at Waterloo, and himself a man of good education and 
 attainments ; he had isolated himself in this out-of-the-way 
 corner of the earth quite voluntarily. Bay Despair was indeed 
 a lonely place when he first came to it and built the station 
 twenty-five years ago. There were no inhabitants but the 
 Micmac Indians, who dearly loved him for his honest dealings, 
 and the wild geese which came in spring and the caribou 
 in winter. He is a man who despises civilisation in all 
 its ways. With poor pay as the operator of the telegraph 
 station of the Anglo-American Company, he had nevertheless 
 married twice, and supported a family of twenty-one souls. 
 The nature of the man may be signified by his lament to me 
 that Bay Despair was now getting "too crowded." He said 
 there were now no less than thirty to forty souls, mostly in 
 the employment of a saw-mill which had recently been started, 
 so he was on the look-out for some place where a man could 
 live in peace without being "hustled." His chief sorrow was 
 the threatened extinction of the Anglo-American Company, 
 which for so many years had been the only means of com- 
 munication of the Newfoundland people with the outer 
 world. 
 
 After a chat with Mr. and Mrs. Leslie, and a meal of 
 cloudberries and cream, I started through the dark woods in 
 the direction of camp, which I found on the banks of a small 
 river coming in at the head of the bay. 
 
 No travellers or hunters ever come this way, our sole 
 forerunners up the Bale d'Est waters being that old sports- 
 man. General Dashwood, who has now passed on, Alexander 
 Murray, and the ubiquitous Mr. Howley. General Dash- 
 wood and Mr. Howley had made the journey via the Baie 
 d'Est system up to Pipestone Lake, and thence to Crooked
 
 ACROSS NEWFOUNDLAND 197 
 
 Lake, and so on to Noel Paul's Brook, and down the Exploits 
 to civilisation. It was this route that I meant to take ; but 
 after reaching Mount Cormack, the centre of Newfoundland, 
 I found the character of the country so uninteresting, the 
 prospects of stag-hunting so poor, and the fact that the 
 route had already been mapped by Howley, that I retreated 
 a short distance and turned east over the unknown country 
 at the headwaters of the Gander, and so worked on to my old 
 hunting grounds and the east coast. 
 
 It is impossible to refer to travel in Central Newfoundland 
 without mentioning the journey performed by W. E. Cormack 
 in 1822. As the exploit of Cormack is but little known 
 outside the knowledge of a few well-read Newfoundlanders, I 
 may briefly narrate his experience. 
 
 W. E. Cormack was born at St. John's in 1796; he spent 
 his school days in Scotland, and studied at Edinburgh and 
 Glasgow Universities. Between the years 18 19 and 1834 he 
 added greatly to our knowledge of the flora of North America, 
 being a good naturalist and a lover of nature. He also wrote 
 papers on fish and fisheries. 
 
 In 1836 he went to Australia, and cultivated tobacco 
 with success for two years ; then to New Zealand, where 
 he turned farmer. After this his restless spirit took him 
 to California, where he engaged in mercantile and mining 
 pursuits. After this he moved north, and established the 
 Agricultural Society of British Columbia. A great lover of 
 field sports, he numbered amongst his friends and corre- 
 spondents such scientific and literary men as Sir W. Hooker 
 and Professor Faraday. Though fond of writing, he left no 
 literary works. He died at Victoria, British Columbia, in 
 August 1 87 1. 
 
 There is a great deal of truth in Cormack's sarcastic
 
 198 NEWFOUI)fDLAND 
 
 introduction to the short account ^ of his remarkable journey 
 across Newfoundland : — 
 
 "Early in the spring of 1822, being in Newfoundland, a 
 far-famed country, in which I felt a most lively interest, and 
 free from professional engagements, I determined upon ex- 
 ploring the interior of this island, a region almost totally 
 unknown, and concerning which and its inhabitants, the Red 
 Indians, who were supposed to occupy the whole of it, the 
 most besotted conjectures were entertained, particularly by the 
 chief delegated public authorities, to which quarter one was 
 inclined to look for some proofs of a feeling of interest for the 
 condition of the country, through the means of which they 
 obtai?ted their bread." 
 
 To a great extent the same may be said in the year of 
 grace 1905. 
 
 After a preliminary run to test the stability of the Indian 
 Sylvester, he added one European to his party ; those in 
 authority in the island proved most unfriendly to Cormack. 
 He says (p. 6) : " It is necessary to mention that the chief 
 Government authority was opposed to the project — and with 
 which he was made acquainted — of obtaining a knowledge of 
 the interior of the country. In consequence of this I was 
 deprived of the services of the European who was, unfortu- 
 nately for me, a stipendiary by local appointment, and I could 
 not add to my party either by hiring or obtaining a volunteer." 
 Notwithstanding this obstacle, Cormack started from Trinity 
 Bay in September 1822. 
 
 When the explorer arrived at the centre of the island, his 
 Indian wished to make for the south coast, but encouraged by 
 promises, &c., he persevered on beside his master. He then 
 
 1 " Narrative of a Journey across the Island of Newfoundland," by W. E. 
 Cormack. The only one ever performed by a European. St. John's, 1873.
 
 .^.^^ 
 
 ii^ ''is*- •- 
 
 ^-^ --^ -iSiW * 
 
 ^^^ ^i. 
 
 .^ ^^ -^^ 
 
 Harbingers ok Winter
 
 ACROSS NEWFOUNDLAND 199 
 
 met a single old mountaineer Indian, James John, from 
 Labrador, who was friendly and helpful. The Red Indians 
 or Beothicks were six or seven miles to the north at that 
 season, whilst the Micmacs were at Bay Despair. On 2nd 
 November Cormack brought his eventful journey to an end 
 at St. George's Bay, on the west coast. 
 
 Since Cormack's day great strides have been made in the 
 geological survey of the island by such able pioneers as 
 Alexander Murray and James Howley, especially the latter, 
 who, with a little assistance from the Government, has worked 
 with untiring zeal for many seasons to fill up the gaps in the 
 unwritten page ; and yet there is still much of the interior 
 which is unmapped and quite unknown, notably the wild 
 regions between Crooked Lake and La Poile to the south- 
 east from the White Bear River to the Victoria Lake. 
 
 On 5th September we commenced our journey into the 
 interior, having been joined at daybreak by Joe Jeddore, the 
 Micmac Indian, with six white packers whom Mr. Leslie 
 had engaged for me. After going for about two miles up 
 the river we took to the woods, the packers taking loads of 
 about eighty pounds each, and marching ahead at a good 
 rate. The necessity of employing these men became im- 
 perative, as it would have taken our four helpers at least 
 three days to have transported all the outfit and canoes over 
 the hills to Long Pond, a distance of six miles, and the first 
 of the long chain of lakes and streams that stretch two-thirds 
 of the way to the Red Indian Lake. From six in the morn- 
 ing till seven in the evening the men made three double 
 journeys, eighteen miles in all, and worked untiringly. Our 
 own men did two journeys, and at night we had brought all 
 the stuff and canoes across the range and through the forest, 
 and were comfortably camped on the shores of the big lake.
 
 200 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 Long Pond is a large sheet of water, in character very similar 
 to all other Newfoundland lakes, possessing a wide and stony 
 beach, flanked by pines and deciduous trees. 
 
 In the forests are: — The white pine {Pinus alba), black 
 spruce {^Pinus nigra), red spruce {Pinus rubra, Piniis balsaniea, 
 Piiius microcarpa'), white birch {Betiila populifolia), black 
 birch {Betula lenta); poplars, locally called "haps," such as 
 Populus trepida and Popuhis grandidentata ; maples {Acer 
 rubrum, Acer striahun'), mountain ash or dog-wood {Sorbus 
 Americana), choke cherry {Prunus borealis), and small wild 
 cherry {Primus Peftsylvanica), hazel and alder {Alnus crispa). 
 
 The whole of the interior is covered with that lovely 
 flowering shrub, Kalmia Glauca. 
 
 Long Pond is a dangerous lake to cross. Being high 
 and open, the wind rises rapidly, and a slight breeze will 
 create such a " jabble " on the lee shore that canoeing must 
 be undertaken with caution. Two years previously Joe had 
 nearly lost his life in this lake. He was accompanying a 
 white man on a short hunting trip, and on his return the 
 lake "looked" easy to pass. To Joe's experienced eye, how- 
 ever, things seemed otherwise, and he advised waiting a 
 day till it was calm. His master, however, was in a hurry, 
 and decided to chance it, with the result that both boats 
 were flooded as they approached the southern shore, and 
 sank in about five feet of water. If the accident had 
 occurred two minutes earlier, all on board must have been 
 drowned. 
 
 Next day, accordingly, Joe shook his head when he spied 
 little white waves breaking on the distant shore, so we 
 remained till midday, afterwards making a start up shore to 
 the narrowest crossing place, about a mile and a half wide, 
 and the wind being slight, we paddled across in none too
 
 ACROSS NEWFOUNDLAND 201 
 
 pleasant a sea. For my part I was glad when we landed with 
 only a little water in the boats. At once we entered the 
 Bale d'Est River, up which the men paddled, whilst McGaw 
 and I walked ahead in the hope of finding deer, but only 
 to find old summer spoor. 
 
 After a short portage we reached Soulis Ann Lake, where 
 I caught some ouananiche for supper. During the night 
 the wind and rain came on, and we were detained all the 
 next day and till midday on the 8th, when the wind abating, 
 we made a start along the lake. We were now in a " burnt " 
 country, and found the surroundings far from beautiful. As 
 far as the eye could reach from the lake shore to the bare 
 mountain ridges was nothing but one gaunt sea of bare poles, 
 the result of a great fire in 1893. Here and there the woods 
 were recovering in the shape of short thickets of birch or 
 scattered groups of spruce, firs, and larch, but the whole 
 aspect was most mournful, and I longed to get on to "timber" 
 where we might reasonably expect to kill a stag. At four 
 we passed Soulis Ann Lake, and continued our journey up 
 to Bale d'Est. The river here looked suitable for trout and 
 ouananiche, so, getting out our rods, we fished for an hour 
 and a half in two likely-looking pools, with great success. 
 The ouananiche fought splendidly, but seldom reached a 
 pound in weight, whilst the trout were a little larger. I 
 killed three dozen, the largest a trout of two and a half pounds. 
 In the evening we walked up the river, where the canoes met 
 us, and took us to camp on a spot we named Sandy Point, 
 on Brazil Pond. The sun set in a blaze of glory as we sat 
 over the fire and ate our meal of fish and tea. 
 
 The morning of the 5th September was beautifully clear 
 and sunny as we paddled merrily up Brazil Lake, until we 
 reached the short river which connects it with Little Burnt
 
 202 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 Lake. Here we took out our rods and fished, although the 
 worst time of the day for such an operation, and soon had 
 enough ouananiche to feed our men for another day. At 
 the end of the Little Burnt Lake we again struck the Baie 
 d'Est River, which was now become exceedingly rocky and 
 difficult to neg^otiate. The stream beinsf low, the river was 
 nothing but a series of rocky levels, on which the men had to 
 be most careful with the canoes. It was in such places that 
 Joe exhibited his great superiority as a canoe man. Stand- 
 ing up in his boat, he poled it through rapids and past rocks 
 in a way that excited our wonder and admiration. The less 
 skilled white men were in the water all the time, hauling, 
 guiding, and lifting, and Little Bob distinguished himself by 
 falling out of his boat into the river. Consequently Joe was 
 always about half a mile ahead of his companions, for whom 
 he waited with a sort of patronising air. Sometimes they 
 tried to copy his method, but with indifferent success, either 
 through the poles breaking, or the stream, being too strong, 
 would turn the heads of their canoes round and land them 
 on a rock in mid-stream. However, as the red man passed 
 up stream with skill, the white men made up for it with 
 pluck and determination, and if they had a rough time 
 occasionally, it was all accepted with a never-failing good 
 nature that renders these simple people so acceptable to 
 those who employ them. 
 
 At sunset we reached green timber again in the shape 
 of Round Lake, the largest sheet of water in Central New- 
 foundland. It was shallow in many places, but, after going 
 two miles, we put into a beautiful little bay, and camped in 
 a forest of high trees. Fresh signs of deer were noticeable 
 on the beach, and there was every prospect of seeing big 
 game very soon. As we sat round the fire and spun yarns,
 
 Joe Jeudore
 
 ACROSS NEWFOUNDLAND 203 
 
 enjoying our meal of ducks, fish, and tea, we all felt very 
 happy and comfortable. The roaring camp-fire of sticks 
 crackled and shed its grenial warmth. Out on the lake the 
 water was like a sheet of glass, except in a little bay where a 
 mother red-breasted merganser was teaching her young to dive. 
 From the distance came the swan-like trump of the Canada 
 geese, as they returned from berry-picking on the hills, and 
 now and again we could hear the melancholy " who-eee " of 
 the great northern divers as they settle for the night. 
 
 No pen could describe or brush convey any idea of that 
 crimson sunset, or the flood of golden light that bathed 
 the hills, the far-away islets, the tangled woods, and the 
 glassy lake. 
 
 We are led by some invisible hand from the heat and 
 turmoil of life to the beauty of space and the joys of 
 distance, into the cool, green places where no man comes. 
 
 Soon the golden ball sinks beneath the horizon, to be 
 succeeded by a short-lived twilight. The querulous loon is 
 uttering low-voiced calls to his mate, and grey phantoms rise 
 cloud-like in the evening mists, drifting away with clanking 
 voices into a land of silence. It is the day's departure, and 
 we turn to the incense of the larch smoke and the crackling 
 blaze of the burning logs. Then one drops to sleep on 
 a couch of scented "vars," amidst the lonely mountains of 
 the northland, with the starlight overhead. 
 
 It may seem strange to the town dwellers that there are 
 many men so constituted that the luxuries of civilisation 
 have no attraction for them, but it is no mystery to those 
 who have seen both sides of the picture. The outdoor man 
 has by far the best of it, for he leads the life that God and 
 Nature intended him to do. If his disappointments and 
 difficulties are great, his joys are intense, and he feels that
 
 204 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 at any rate he has lived and known. One who has lived 
 much in that great world, where there is no pretence, 
 must feel chilled when he stands amid a gallery of cold 
 faces and listens to the vapid talk of men and women in 
 whose lives he cannot bear a part. In the wonders of the 
 eternal forests those vast spaces are real and earnest, whilst 
 the voices that speak to him are those of friends.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 THE MOUNT CORMACK REGION AND HISTORY OF THE 
 NEWFOUNDLAND MICMACS 
 
 Round Lake is another somewhat dangerous sheet of water 
 to circumvent in light canoes, so we had to be careful next 
 morning, as a fair breeze was blowing astern when we headed 
 northwards along the western shore. I was in front with 
 Joe, for we expected to see a stag at any moment, and fresh 
 meat was now becoming a strong desideratum. About a 
 quarter to nine Joe raised his finger and pointed ahead. 
 "There's the stag," he said, "an he's travellin' fast." 
 The telescope revealed a fair stag still in the velvet, 
 walking with the smart, business-like step that means a 
 good 5|- miles an hour. He was going in the same direction 
 as ourselves along the lake beaches, and I saw that we should 
 have to make a considerable detour to head him and get 
 the wind. Hard paddling was now the order of the day, 
 so we put our backs into it and forged ahead to avoid a 
 group of small islands that lay between us and the deer. 
 In a quarter of an hour we were abreast of the stag. He 
 never stopped or looked about. After another ten minutes 
 we were about a quarter of a mile ahead, and decided to 
 cut in on to the land and head the beast. During this 
 manoeuvre the stag quickened his pace, and looking up 
 sharply, stood at gaze. 
 
 " Don't move a muscle," I said, as we stared each other 
 out of countenance at a distance of 400 yards. The stag 
 
 205
 
 206 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 appeared satisfied and proceeded, and so were we. He 
 was now out of sight, and we rushed the canoe in for a 
 point where I knew our quarry would shortly come. McGaw, 
 who was watching the stalk from the lake, said that imme- 
 diately we disappeared the stag started at full gallop" for the 
 point where we met, much to my surprise, a moment later. 
 I could just see his head and horns as he peeped at me 
 from behind a tangle of fallen timber, and, knowing that 
 no better chance would offer, fired at once. The bullet cut 
 a wisp of hair from the stag's chin, and he made off up the 
 shore at full speed. I now ran to the point and lay down, 
 expecting him to stand before taking the woods. It was 
 as I hoped, and he slowly swung round at 150 yards and 
 gazed back before disappearing. The moment he stopped, 
 I fired and broke his spine. He was dead before we got 
 up to him. Pleasure was written in every countenance as 
 the canoes assembled, for we had meat now to last us for 
 a week at least, and meat means strength to man. The stag 
 carried a pretty head of twenty-five points, but the horns 
 were not large, so we did not take them. 
 
 The wind was rising fast, so, after loading the canoes 
 with all the meat we could carry, we proceeded, with some 
 difficulty, to the northern shore of the lake, where McGaw 
 and I went ashore for a walk, the boats following us. Here 
 we found three good outbreaks of raw petroleum. Some- 
 thing might be made of these wells, as well as the fine chrome 
 iron deposits which we saw later at Pipestone, were it not 
 for the difficulty of transport. At noon we entered a beautiful 
 "steady," and, after halting for the midday meal, we journeyed 
 on northwards up an unnamed small lake, which we called 
 Northern Diver Lake, from the numerous birds of this species 
 that frequented its waters. At one place we cornered four
 
 McGaw Fishing 
 
 Portaging a Canok, Dead Man's Rapids
 
 MOUNT CORMACK REGION 207 
 
 birds of this species in a shallow of the river at its northern 
 end, and, thinking that one might come up near the boats 
 as they broke back for the lake, I took McGaw's gun in my 
 hand. I had no sooner done so, than a large female almost 
 sprang into Joe's canoe, and he, striking at it with the paddle, 
 drove it to wing, when I easily shot it as it flew by. The 
 specimen proved a beautiful one in full summer plumage, 
 and was the largest I have seen. I think the American 
 form of the great northern diver is larger than the European 
 bird, of which I have shot many. Even where it is not 
 hunted, it is always the same strong and cunning creature, 
 and seldom gives man a chance of killing it. 
 
 Half a mile up a stiff bit of river brought us to a fine 
 steady, which eventually led into Shoal Pond, where we 
 camped for the night on a wooded island. 
 
 During the evening I had a long talk with Joe, who held 
 out no prospect of seeing good stags after we should pass 
 Pipestone Lake and Mount Cormack, which we hoped to 
 reach in two days. Moreover, he said the country was 
 barren and desolate to Noel Paul's Brook, and that we 
 should reach civilisation too soon if we pursued that route. 
 Moreover, the main features of this country had been mapped 
 out by Howley, so we determined only to visit Mount 
 Cormack, about whose geographical position I was doubtful, 
 and from thence to return to Shoal Pond, where we were 
 now camped, and afterwards to strike east over the unknown 
 country towards Burnt Hill. Thence we could easily reach 
 my old hunting-grounds on the Gander, and might expect to 
 get some fine heads before passing down stream to Glenwood. 
 
 Accordingly we " cached " the greater part of our stores 
 under a birch-bark " tilt," and proceeded on the following 
 morning with such impedimenta as would last us for a week.
 
 208 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 A fine-looking deer country to the right of Shoal Lake 
 tempted us to put in a day there, and I ascended to the 
 top of a hill, from whence a splendid view was obtained 
 north as far as Cormack, east to Burnt Hill, and south to 
 Mount Bradshaw over Round Lake. Away to the west we 
 could see the White Mountains and great area of unknown 
 land as yet unmapped, and unvisited even by Indians. 
 McGaw ascended another ridge, and did some mapping. 
 We saw numbers of female and small caribou, but no stags, 
 these being still hidden in the dense woods. 
 
 The following day we continued our journey up stream, 
 the river becoming more and more difificult as we proceeded. 
 Shallow succeeded shallow until we reached a point known 
 as Dead Man's Rapids, where it was necessary to portage 
 everything for half a mile. Whilst McGaw and I walked 
 ahead, a fine stag broke out of the woods close to Sandy 
 Butt, and another was observed making across the river 
 when we stopped for lunch. For this one I ran hard, 
 trying to cut him off, but he rounded a bend out of sight 
 at 400 yards before I could get my rifle to work. At 3 p.m. 
 we reached a small unmarked lake which was so shallow that 
 we could only crawl along. Then ensued another steady, 
 and then a series of the worst rapids we had encountered. 
 In fact, it was impossible to get the canoes through them, 
 and so we carried round through the woods, finding ourselves 
 at Pipestone Lake at five o'clock. 
 
 Here the country was all burnt, and swarming with doe 
 caribou. Wherever we looked there were little parties dotted 
 about. We stalked two lots in the hope of finding a stag 
 for McGaw, but without success. One small party seemed 
 to be lost in a brown study on the shores of the lake, so 
 we thought we would have some fun with them, as the
 
 Hauling over a Bad Place on the Baie d'Est 
 
 W0RK.ING UP THE Baie d'Kst Kivlk
 
 'There goes Four Hundred Dollars 1" 
 
 No Dinner To-dav
 
 MOUNT CORMACK REGION 209 
 
 canoes would shortly appear and scare them along the lake 
 shore towards us. McGaw, Joe, and I accordingly took 
 stones in our hands, and played at being ancient Britons, 
 just like naughty schoolboys. We lay in the caribou trail, 
 and, as soon as the canoe approached the deer near enough 
 for them to get the wind, there was a wild rattle of stones 
 and the game was rushing like a charge of cavalry down 
 upon us. All the five deer almost trod upon us as we 
 raised ourselves on our knees and saluted the attack with 
 a volley of rocks. One deer cleared Joe's head within a 
 few inches. Of course we did not hit anything, but enjoyed 
 the consternation and the sport as much as if we had slain 
 a noble hart. 
 
 As the sun was setting and the men were building camp, 
 more and more deer appeared. McGaw pursued one lot 
 that appeared to have a stag amongst them, but no stag 
 was there when he had headed them, so we went to bed 
 without any damage having been done except to a portion 
 of my knickerbockers which had tried conclusions with some 
 sharp rocks. 
 
 In the morning McGaw started for the end of the lake 
 
 with the intention of taking the height of Mount Cormack, 
 
 whilst I hunted an area to the east of Sit Down Lake, and 
 
 gradually worked round to the foot of Sit Down Mountain, 
 
 which I ascended to make some observations. During the 
 
 day we walked many miles, and encountered numbers of 
 
 doe caribou and a few young stags, but not one adult stag 
 
 was to be seen, a state of things I had quite expected. Not 
 
 so Joe, who had declared that we should find plenty of 
 
 stags out in the open ground at this season, and could not 
 
 now account for their absence. On questioning him closely, 
 
 I found that when he had been to Pipestone before, the 
 
 o
 
 210 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 time was July and early August, a season at which the big 
 stags do move out of the woods, drawing from the rivers to 
 avoid the flies, and so the circumstances were easily explained. 
 Late in August the stags again take to the woods and 
 hardly ever show out except at early dawn, until the beginning 
 of the rutting season (20th September), and often not as early 
 as this. 
 
 As we were returning to camp we saw a wonderful thing. 
 I call it wonderful, because few men, even professional trappers, 
 have ever seen the beast — a veritable black fox, as black as 
 ink. We were descending a low range of hills, when right 
 in front of us, and, most unfortunately, dead down wind, 
 appeared the rarity. He saw us as quickly as we saw him, 
 and, like a flash, he whipped round, and, erecting his magni- 
 ficent brush of black and white, darted over the skyline and 
 was lost to view. 
 
 " There goes four hundred dollars ! " said Joe sadly. "Ah, 
 if we had only been fifty yards to the right, we should 
 have been out of sight and under the wind, and I could 
 have tolled him." 
 
 It was one of the most melancholy " ifs " I can remember 
 in my hunting experience. The Indians have a "call" or 
 " toll " for nearly every animal. They can bring a fox right 
 up to within 20 yards by making a sibilant noise produced 
 by sucking the back of the hand. Reynard takes it to be 
 the cry of a hare in difficulties, and seldom fails to advance 
 close to the sound. Stag caribou are "tolled" by grunting 
 loudly in two different ways, and this vocal effort requires 
 little skill or practice on the imitator's part, for the first 
 beast I tried it on answered at once, and came grunting up 
 close at hand. 
 
 The " herd " stag will quickly answer the caller and advance
 
 Mount Cor.mack., the Centre ok Newfoundland 
 
 Mount Cukmack from Pipestone Lake
 
 MOUNT CORMACK REGION 211 
 
 for a short distance, but the "travelling" stag will come very 
 close if the calls are properly made at suitable intervals. By 
 using the double grunt at short range, I have brought a stag to 
 within five yards of the stone behind which I was concealed. 
 Sometimes the Indians can attract an amorous stag by flicking 
 a white handkerchief from side to side at the edge of a wood. 
 The stag can see this at a considerable distance, and will some- 
 times come at full speed to the spot where the Indian lies 
 concealed — I saw this done once in the following year ; and 
 geese can also be called, when they first arrive in the spring, 
 by waving a white rag and imitating their "honking" call, 
 but after the first fortnight they take little notice of the lure. 
 A small white dog is also attractive to geese in the spring, 
 and one Indian I know of has killed numbers of these birds 
 by this method. 
 
 Beavers, when they have been undisturbed for long, 
 are very curious in relation to strange sounds. They will 
 come swimming out of their house even at the firing of a 
 gun. The Indians usually call them with a hissing noise, 
 or one produced by munching the lips. Another favourite 
 " toll " is a sound made by tapping the trousers with the 
 hand. The most successful beaver "caller" in Newfoundland 
 is John Bernard, or Johnny " Bow-an'-arrow " as he is named 
 by the Glenwood folk, who, when the season for the animals 
 was "open," killed great numbers by making a sound that 
 resembled the cutting of chips off a tree. It is said that 
 the unfortunate rodents never fail to respond to this noise. 
 John Bernard is the only Indian in the island who can 
 produce this seductive note. Most of the Indians kill 
 beaver by cutting down the "dam" and shooting the animals 
 as they come out of their "lodge" and holes — an easy 
 method. The Indian has no call for the lynx, but one or
 
 212 NEAVFOUNDLAND 
 
 two of them can attract the otter by imitating its shrill 
 whistle. 
 
 Shortly after the departure of the black fox, we saw a 
 fine stag plunge into the Pipestone Lake and swim to the 
 other side. It was interesting to see how carefully he chose 
 his landing place. Instead of going directly to his point of 
 landing, he swam about fifty yards first to one side and then 
 to the other, so as to get the wind from the right quarter. 
 He then stepped cautiously on to the beach, and galloped 
 straight into the underbrush. A caribou stag in early 
 September is no fool. 
 
 McGaw returned in the evening from Mount Cormack 
 without having seen a stag, but with the knowledge that 
 the mountain is wrongly marked on the map. For it stands 
 right at the north point of Pipestone and only about one and 
 a half miles distant from the lake, instead of some four or five 
 miles due east, in which position it has been charted. As 
 far as I know, no one has visited this mountain since Cormack 
 was there in 1822, and so its position must have been marked, 
 like a good many others, from mere hearsay. We also found 
 a high mountain to the south-west, quite as high as Cormack, 
 and which we named Mount Frances. There were, too, 
 several new lakes to be seen from the top of Cormack and 
 Sit Down Hill. 
 
 After taking the heights of these hills, for they can 
 scarcely be designated as mountains, we left on the follow- 
 ing day to return to Shoal Lake. At daybreak Saunders 
 and Frank stood outside the camp and surveyed the 
 heavens. 
 
 " Guess we're goin' to have dirt to-day," said Little Bob 
 laconically. 
 
 "No, I think it's goin' to be civil,'' argued Frank, who
 
 KiiUBEN Lewis, Head Chief of the Newfoun'dland Micmacs
 
 MOUNT CORMACK REGION 213 
 
 was an optimist of the most pronounced type. But Frank 
 was wrong for once. 
 
 The word "civil" is used to express several meanings in 
 Newfoundland. The expression, " It's a civil day," is too 
 obvious to require explanation, but it is used in another 
 curious way, to signify "gaining sense or knowledge of a 
 thing." Thus Frank delivered himself one evening: — 
 
 " We'd an English captain here once that tried to shoot 
 deer on the best army principles, an' I couldn't get him cured 
 nohow. He'd get a small hill betwixt him and the stag, and 
 then make rushes in full view of any other deer that might 
 be about. When he'd come to de nex' mound he'd fall down 
 flat like he had de stummick ache and peek round expectin' 
 to see de stag, which by this time was travellin' up de 
 country. Then he'd look round sour-like, and ses he, ' Dese 
 caribou about de wildest deer I ever struck, and most difficult 
 to hunt.' But by-and-by he see army tactics warn't no use, 
 so he got kind d civilised, and used to say Newfun'lan' 'ud 
 make a fine training-ground for de British Army." 
 
 During the night the wind had shifted to the south, and 
 September 14th was one of the worst days I ever remember. 
 The rain descended in a perfect deluge, and we worried on 
 in the teeth of a gale till 5 p.m., when, soaked to the skin 
 in spite of our heavy sou'-westers, we arrived at the island 
 like so many drowned rats. Two or three times during the 
 day Joe wished us to put up, but I wished to press on as 
 the time was getting short, and we were anxious to reach 
 the stag country before the migration commenced. The 
 white men never said a word, but toiled away with the 
 canoes and at the portages with silent doggedness. In bad 
 weather or with rough work the two temperaments, that 
 of the white and the red man, are manifest. It may seem
 
 214 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 strange to those that do not know them that the Indian, 
 who spends all his life in the woods, should dread bad 
 weather and hard work. But so it is. He will always stay 
 at home on a wet day, and fears to go abroad when changes 
 of temperature are going on. Joe, excellent fellow as he 
 was, cordially disliked getting wet, and the slightest chill or 
 illness gave him most gloomy forebodings. Nearly all Indians 
 are gluttons. Some can digest the enormous quantities of 
 fat they eat, and others get indigestion and are a prey to 
 melancholia. Joe was one of the latter, and when the results 
 of a too generous diet of deer fat were manifest, he would 
 come to us with a face of extreme woe. 
 
 " What's the matter, Joe ? " we would say. 
 
 " Ah, I have a lump like a lead ball just here," pressing 
 his diaphragm. " I am very bad. John Hans at Conn 
 River died of just such a thing last winter, and Joe Brazil 
 he " 
 
 " Let's look at your tongue," I would say, with my best 
 Harley Street manner. " Yes, to be sure, a case of Asiatic 
 cholera ; don't you think so. Jack ? " 
 
 McGaw, thus appealed to, would at once ratify my diagnosis 
 with a learned air, and go for the Burroughs & Wellcome 
 case. Two azure globules of the most body-rending descrip- 
 tion were then inserted in Joe's mouth, and next day he 
 would come up smiling. 
 
 On another occasion the results of a generous diet had 
 a bad effect on poor Joe, and he was in considerable pain. 
 The doctors put their heads together, and more by good 
 luck than good management effected another speedy cure 
 with some horrible compound whose name we could not 
 read on the bottle. After this our fame was established. 
 
 "You could make much money down at Conn River,"
 
 MOUNT CORMACK REGION 215 
 
 said Joe to me one day. "We have no doctor there but 
 the priest. He knows lots, but he ain't got no medicines 
 Hke yours, pore fellow." 
 
 When he became melancholy Joe was always pitying 
 some one, either himself, the priest, the Government, or his 
 wife. A propos of his wife, I asked him one day if his wife 
 went with him trapping. 
 
 " No, not now ; she came once, but she got to stay at 
 home now to look after de apple-tree." 
 
 "Good gracious, what for?" I asked. 
 
 "Why, you see, I've got a fine apple-tree, the only one 
 in Conn River, and the fall she was in with me the ' beach ' 
 boys got flinging stones, and smashed all my windows and 
 took the apples." 
 
 "But surely you don't care for the apples more than 
 your wife." 
 
 "Well, no, but I've got a pig — and what between watchin' 
 that apple-tree and feedin' de pig on squid, she don't have 
 no time to do nothin' else — pore woman." 
 
 It must not, however, be supposed that Joe was a melan- 
 choly individual ; on the contrary, he was generally full of 
 fun and laughter. He could see a joke as well as any man, 
 and his skill in woodcraft was exceptional. He was as lithe 
 and strong as a lynx, and could run over the marshes and 
 hills like a deer, and climb like a monkey. He was most 
 careful of stores and canoes, and when guiding was necessary 
 he proved himself to be a genuine guide. 
 
 I had an example of this on the morning after we arrived 
 at Shoal Lake Island, from where we were to start on the 
 following day up the Dog Lake Brook into the unknown 
 country. Joe had never been there before, and so he made 
 it his business to go and find out the condition of the brook
 
 216 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 and its fitness or otherwise for canoes. He said nothing 
 to me, but at four the next morning I detected him lighting 
 his pipe by the fire. He slipped silently past my bed and, 
 making his way to a canoe, paddled away swiftly into the 
 darkness. At half-past eight Joe was sitting at breakfast 
 with the others. He had run six miles up the river and 
 back, twelve miles in all, and knew all about the stream. I 
 liked that, because it showed a strict attention to business 
 and proved that he had our interests at heart. 
 
 The heavy rains of the previous day had made it possible 
 for the canoes to be dragged up the brook, but they required 
 careful management, the men beingf in the water the whole 
 time. McGaw and I walked on ahead, reaching Little Dog 
 Lake about 4 p.m. Here we saw smoke curling up from the 
 lake shore, and knew this must be made by the two Matthews 
 boys, sons of Noel Matthews, a Micmac Indian who lived at 
 Bay Despair, and whose hunting-ground we were now passing 
 through. Accordingly I sent Joe to their camp to invite them 
 to accompany us for a week or eight days, to help us to pack 
 over the difficult country between the two watersheds. This 
 they agreed to do, and so met us on the following morning 
 by the brook side, where they at once took pack to help 
 lighten the canoes. 
 
 The two Matthews boys were regular wild Indians of 
 the woods. Martin, the eldest, was a youth of nineteen, with 
 a perfectly expressionless face and an insatiable appetite. I 
 have never seen a man eat so much in so short a time. A 
 stag breast and ribs were a comfortable meal for him, and 
 such trifles as cans of butter and milk seemed to disappear 
 down his capacious throat as if by magic. We possessed 
 some wonderful liquid called " St. Charles evaporated cream," 
 and never fully understood its grandiloquent tide until Martin
 
 HISTORY OF NEWFOUNDLAND MICMACS 217 
 
 got his fingers round a tin of it one day. All the odd pickings 
 of the camp went mouthwards as soon as they were spied, 
 and where food was concerned he was a veritable wolf. His 
 brother Michael was little inferior in the knife-and-fork line, 
 but he was of a more silent and retiring disposition. On the 
 whole, I forgave their expensive tastes, as they worked well 
 for us for eight days, carrying fairly heavy loads, and the 
 labours of our men would have been much harder had it not 
 been for their timely help. Each of the brothers possessed 
 a starved-looking Labrador retriever, clever, amiable beasts, 
 scarcely less hungry than their masters. Whilst this party 
 were in camp everything eatable had to be deposited in 
 the trees. 
 
 The following short account of the Micmacs since their 
 landing to the present day may be of interest to Newfound- 
 landers, who at the present have little knowledge of their 
 present numbers, movements, and habits. 
 
 The Micmac Indians, who are a branch of the Great 
 Algonquin race of Eastern Canada, first arrived in New- 
 foundland about the middle of the eighteenth century. They 
 were said to have been brought over to help to exterminate the 
 unfortunate Beothicks. But though I have no respect for the 
 early colonial administration of the island, I do not believe 
 that this was the real reason of their coming, but that more 
 readily explained causes contributed to their arrival. They 
 had probably heard, perhaps from the Mountaineer Indians 
 of the Labrador, who are themselves a branch of the ' Algon- 
 quins, of the excellent trapping and hunting to be found in 
 the island, and had come for that purpose.^ There is little 
 
 ^ It will be noted by the reader that Cormack, on his first journey in 1822, met 
 a Mountaineer Indian, James John by name. The direct descendants of this 
 Indian live in Bay Despair at the present day.
 
 218 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 doubt that for years after their arrival they entertained a 
 wholesome dread of the painted Beothicks, or Red Indians, 
 and left them severely alone in their hunting-grounds about 
 Red Indian Lake and to the northwards, themselves only 
 occupying places on the coast-line and working into the 
 interior by the Bale d'Est and Long Harbor and other 
 routes. 
 
 The Micmac Indians in Newfoundland, according to 
 Cormack (1822), amounted to 150 souls. These were dis- 
 persed in bands in the following places or districts, viz. St. 
 George's Harbour and Great Codroy River on the west 
 coast ; White Bear Bay and Bay Despair on the south-west ; 
 Clode Sound in Bonavista Bay on the east coast ; Gander 
 Bay on the north-east coast ; and a few at Bonne Bay 
 and Bay of Islands on the north-west coast. At this time 
 a few Mountaineer Indians from Labrador joined them, 
 and even Esquimaux from Labrador sometimes visited the 
 island. 
 
 Of the Micmacs there were twenty-seven to twenty-eight 
 families, averaging five to each family. They all followed 
 the same life, hunting and trapping in the interior. After 
 October they repaired to the sea-coast, and bartered their 
 furs for clothing, ammunition, tea, and rum. 
 
 During this period the Micmacs did not acknowledge 
 a chief, but certain members in each village were treated 
 with especial respect. They considered, and still do, that 
 Cape Breton is their home. Cormack speaks of the extra- 
 ordinary endurance of the Indians, and that in his day 
 individual hunters of great stamina could actually run down 
 a stag, a feat even now performed by the Mountaineer 
 Indians of Labrador. This could be done in a single day. 
 At first the stag easily outstrips its pursuer, but after a
 
 HISTORY OF NEWFOUNDLAND MICMACS 219 
 
 run of four or five miles it slows down and is eventually 
 overtaken. 
 
 In 1822 the Micmacs were professedly Roman Catholics, 
 with a dash of the Totem Pole thrown in. They blended 
 their own particular ceremonies with the worship of God, and 
 were besides that very superstitious. To-day they are all 
 Roman Catholics, and show the greatest respect for their 
 priest, who lives in Harbour Breton and visits Conn River 
 twice a year for the purpose of holding the confessional, 
 receiving subscriptions to the Church, and performing mar- 
 riages. During these visits the Indians are very devout, and 
 listen to their pastor with close attention. They are very 
 generous with their money, and do whatever he tells them. 
 At Christmas Joe Jeddore is high priest, and conducts the 
 Sunday service. 
 
 It is a common saying in Newfoundland that the Indians 
 are dying out, but the following notes given to me by Joe 
 Jeddore and five other Indians speak for themselves. They 
 are not dying out, but have left certain old stations owing 
 to the pressure of the white man and the exhaustion of the 
 hunting-grounds in the neighbourhood of the coast and 
 railway. Consequently they have concentrated at the Conn 
 River in Bay Despair, and make this their headquarters, from 
 which they work the whole of the central portion of the main 
 island, south of the Red Indian Lake. Altogether there are 
 twenty-five families at Conn River to-day, consisting of about 
 125 souls. These, added to the few individuals in other 
 parts of Newfoundland, make a total very similar to that 
 given by Cormack in 1822. All the able-bodied men are 
 hunters and trappers. They also do a little lumbering in the 
 spring, and the routine of their lives is as follows. They live 
 at home in their houses from February to April, eating dried
 
 220 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 fish, smoked caribou flesh, together with such civilised com- 
 modities as flour, bacon, tea, coffee, and sugar, which they 
 either exchange for furs with the Gaultois and Pushthrough 
 merchants or purchase with their fur money. In April some 
 of them go logging, and sell their timber to the mills, mend 
 their nets and traps, and do any odd work. During May, 
 June, July, and part of August, they fish about the bays, 
 creeks, and rivers, but never go to sea like the regular cod-men. 
 Much of this .fish is eaten ; the rest is salted for the dogs 
 and pigs. 
 
 In August the regular hunters take their packs on their 
 backs, and walk to their " tilts " or birch-bark shelters in the 
 interior. Here they have stores of food, ammunition, and 
 traps laid by. Some few, like the Matthews and Benoits, 
 proceed by boat. In August and September these Indians, 
 who generally live in pairs and share results, kill four or five 
 stags apiece. The hide they use for many purposes, and the 
 flesh is dried in the fire smoke for winter use. But their 
 principal quarry at this season is the black bear, of which they 
 kill considerable numbers. Their methods are as follows. 
 The hunter repairs at daybreak to the top of the highest 
 mountain, and there waits the whole day till sunset, overlooking 
 a wide area of burnt ground and blueberry patches. Sooner 
 or later Bruin will appear, and the Indian stalks to within 
 30 yards, and shoots him with his double-barrelled muzzle- 
 loader — the gun they all use. In 1903 Noel Matthews killed 
 seven in September at Crooked Lake, and in 1904 Nicholas 
 Jeddore slew nine in the same month near Burnt Hill. 
 Bears are in consequence becoming scarce in Newfoundland. 
 About 15th October the Indians set out their great circle of 
 traps (each circle being a round of about 5 miles); most of 
 these are the ordinary gins, but numbers are made for fox.
 
 
 Net Otter Trap 

 
 HISTORY OF NEWFOUNDLAND MICMACS 221 
 
 lynx, marten, and otter, out of forest materials, and are shown 
 in my illustrations. The neatest of all is the wooden "dead- 
 fall," set for the otter. 
 
 From October to February the whole of Central New- 
 foundland is covered with traps, and, as Joe remarked, a 
 man could not go for twenty miles without having his dog 
 killed or caught by the foot, unless he keeps the animal 
 by his side. 
 
 At the end of October the hunters go out to their homes 
 on the coast, and then start in again in November to visit 
 their traps when the snow comes. They then re-set the 
 traps, put fresh baits, and kill a couple of caribou on the 
 way to the coast, their trained dogs hauling them. The 
 traps are visited again and re-set in January or February, 
 the dogs again hauling out one or two fat doe caribou to 
 the coast. Work in the interior then closes for the year, 
 though in February many of the Indians travel inland a 
 day's journey to the main herd of the wintering caribou, and 
 conduct a " surround." Caribou are in thousands near the 
 south coast at this season. The Indians depart at daybreak, 
 and after locating a herd of several hundreds in a valley 
 they occupy all the main trails leading out of it, and send 
 some one to move the deer. As soon as they are started 
 the caribou rush for the passes, where the Indians lie con- 
 cealed, and a considerable number are killed at short range 
 with guns loaded with swan-shot. On the whole, the Indians 
 are not wasteful in their methods, far less so than the white 
 man, as every part of a deer is used, and they never kill 
 one unless it is for some special purpose. I doubt if each 
 individual hunter shoots more than ten stag and ten does 
 in a season, and this is not an excessive number, since we 
 know how abundant the deer are.
 
 222 
 
 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 The following is an accurate list of the Indian trappers, 
 and their respective hunting-grounds in Newfoundland: — 
 
 Frank Joe . 
 
 Little Frank Benoit 
 
 Paul Benoit 
 
 Frank Benoit 
 
 Ned Pullet 
 
 Noel Louis 
 
 John Benoit 
 
 Frank MacDonald 
 
 Ben Benoit 
 
 Noel Matthews ) 
 
 Martin and Michael i 
 
 Noel Jeddore > 
 
 John Denny Jeddore ( 
 
 Stephen Joe (stepbrother of Joe J.) 
 
 Joe Jeddore 
 
 Nicholas Jeddore 
 
 John Bernard 
 
 John Stride 
 
 Reuben Lewis . 
 
 Stephen Bernard 
 
 Peter John . 
 
 Micky John 1 
 
 Peter John ) 
 
 John Hinx » 
 
 Paddy Hinx V 
 
 Johnny Hinx ) 
 
 Mathew Burke ( 
 
 Johnny Benoit i 
 
 John Barrington 
 
 Lewis John 
 
 Len Joe .... 
 
 Ben, Abraham, and Noel Paul 
 
 Matty Michel and son 
 
 Hunts Burgeo country and Western Maelpeg. 
 
 „ Spruce Pond, N\V. of Maelpeg. 
 
 ,, Crooked Lake. 
 
 „ Crooked Lake. 
 
 ,, Long Pond, between two W. Maelpegs. 
 
 „ Western Maelpeg. 
 
 „ Nimooch-wee-godie. 
 
 „ Godoleik (W. of Conn). 
 
 „ Island Pond, NW. of W. Maelpeg. 
 
 ,, Crooked Lake. 
 
 Sandy Pond. 
 
 Burnt Hill and Podopekgutch. 
 Burnt Hill and Upper Gander. 
 Burnt Hill and Upper Gander. 
 Middle Ridge and Glenwood. 
 Northern side of Sylvester. 
 Kagudeck. 
 
 Sandy Pond and Shoe Hill Ridge. 
 Eastern Maelpeg. 
 
 St. John's Pond. 
 
 Wiskomonagodie, Eastern Partridge- 
 berry Hills, S. of Maelpeg. 
 
 Tolt and Piper's Hill Brook. 
 
 Eastern side of Tolt. 
 Eastern side of Tolt. 
 Grand Lake. 
 Exploits River. 
 Bonne Bay. 
 
 The Micmacs now acknowledge a local chief, although 
 they always refer all matters of extreme importance to the 
 head chief, John Dennis, who lives near Sydney, Nova 
 Scotia. In 1900, at the death of old Joe Bernard, Reuben 
 Lewis was elected as a probationary chief of the Newfound-
 
 C/;:: I .^4 
 
 Trap for Lynx 
 
 To reach the bait it is necessary for the Lynx to place its 
 
 fore-paws on the trap 
 
 Trap for Fox or Martex 
 When set it is covered on the top with spruce
 
 HISTORY OF NEWFOUNDLAND MICMACS 223 
 
 land Indians, and in June 1907 he will go in state with the 
 principal men of Conn River to Sydney and be invested 
 with the full right of chieftainship and the possession of 
 the gold medal which is the badge of office. I have been 
 invited to witness the ceremony, which is partly of a private 
 nature, followed by public feasting, dancing, and the wearing 
 of the old Indian dress, but, much to my regret, shall not 
 be able to see it. 
 
 Reuben Lewis is a quiet unassuming bachelor of about 
 forty years of age. He leads the same life as the other 
 Indians, and is generally accompanied by his sister, Souly 
 Ann, a lady of generous proportions. To him are referred 
 all questions and disputes about territorial trapping areas, 
 and he has the power to give decisions, which are always 
 regarded as final. 
 
 Reuben Lewis is one of the few men who has been 
 badly mauled by a black bear.^ He was hunting some ten 
 years ago with Noel Jeddore near Burnt Hill. Reuben fired 
 at a large dog bear, and badly wounded it. After tracking 
 for a short distance they saw the bear lying still, and Reuben 
 went up to it, and gave it a kick to see if life was extinct ; 
 the bear, which was far from being dead, sprang up and 
 seized the hunter by one leg, at the same time flinging his 
 gun out of reach. Reuben lay as still as he could, but the 
 bear chawed up both his legs and one hand, whilst Noel 
 ran round trying to fire, but fearful of wounding his friend. 
 At last Noel came so near that the bear dropped Reuben a 
 second to growl at him, and whilst doing so he obtained 
 
 ' I can only hear of one other authentic instance of a black bear attacking a man. 
 About forty years ago a white man fired at a black bear on the shore near Bay 
 de Nord. He wounded it badly, and then foolishly put down his gun and went in 
 to kill it with an axe. The bear attacked him and bit him to death. Both com- 
 batants were found lying together.
 
 224 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 a shot and dropped the bear dead. After some weeks in 
 camp Reuben walked out to the coast and had completely 
 recovered in three months. 
 
 The Micmacs live to a good old age, for old John Bernard, 
 " doyen " of the community, is eighty-seven, and can see and 
 walk almost as well as a man of thirty. Noel Matthews, whom 
 I saw in Bay Despair, is another fine specimen. He accom- 
 panied Mr. Howley in several of his arduous journeys. He 
 is seventy years of age, and is still the most skilled man in 
 a canoe in the island. He goes "furring" and packing just 
 as he has always done. Until recently another remarkable 
 old man was Louis John, aged eighty-one, but he went in 
 as usual in 1906, and dropped dead one day as he was lifting 
 his load. 
 
 The curse of the Indian is cheap rum, and nearly all the 
 young men drink hard when they get the opportunity. It is 
 no uncommon thing for a trapper to make from 300 to 500 
 dollars in the course of a season's work, and to waste it all 
 during a few days' debauch. This is all the more deplorable 
 because very often white fur-traders encourage the Indians 
 to drink as soon as they have concluded a deal, and cheat the 
 unfortunate men if they once fall into their clutches. Many 
 of the Indians, too, wander away with two or three bottles 
 of rum in their pockets, and after being dead drunk lie out 
 for days in the rain and snow, when severe chills are 
 contracted, which are generally followed by consumption. 
 Numbers die of phthisis and measles, and the mortality is 
 high. It should be made a penal offence to sell rum to 
 Indians. Yet the Indian, even when a habitual drinker, has 
 marvellous self-control. The late chief, Joe Bernard, drank 
 heavily until he was made chief, and then gave it up. The pre- 
 sent chief, Reuben Lewis, was also of a Bacchanalian tendency,
 
 o 
 
 D
 
 The Source of the Gander 
 
 Joe Testing the Wind
 
 HISTORY OF NEWFOUNDLAND MICMACS 225 
 
 until he received word from Sydney that he must abandon 
 the habit on being elected, which he has done. It will give 
 the reader some idea of the fearful mortality which prevails 
 arriongst these people from the above-mentioned causes, when 
 it is stated that Steve Bernard, my hunter in 1906, was the 
 sole survivor of eleven strong children. Drink, consumption, 
 strains, measles, and carelessness had killed them all except 
 Steve before they came to the age of twenty-one. 
 
 I am well aware that nothing one man can say, however 
 true, will have the smallest effect on the Government of a 
 country when that Government has to listen, as it always 
 does, to the "Vox populi " and to regard it as the "Vox 
 Dei." Such a voice, however, is often only the cry of cruelty 
 and oppression. But at the same time I consider that the 
 Indians have "rights" — rights which have come to them by 
 custom and inheritance, just as much as to the white man, 
 and that within reason these should be respected, before 
 a tribe has been completely exterminated by war, disease, 
 and rum. English and other Governments always become 
 sentimental and kind-hearted when a race is nearly extinct, 
 since then there is no fear of future political complications. 
 But is not this the very essence of selfishness? and would it not 
 be better to try and make the original owners of the soil our 
 friends instead of our enemies, by treating them with a little 
 consideration, a little common sense, and a little knowledge of 
 their manifest weaknesses ? By so doing we might show them 
 that there is some force in the arguments of Christianity over 
 the Totem Pole. The half-breed Micmacs of Newfoundland 
 are the most amiable and law-abiding of the North American 
 tribes, and it should be the duty of the Government to know 
 more of these people, to understand their rights in the different 
 trapping areas, to keep in close touch with their chief, and
 
 226 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 to enforce laws by which it will be a criminal offence to sell 
 them a siftgle drop of liquor} 
 
 The sanctity of their trapping-grounds is considered 
 inviolate by the Micmacs. They live on fairly good terms 
 with the Newfoundlanders, but let another Indian or a 
 white man come into their trapping area for the purpose 
 of taking fur, and the amiable red man is at once trans- 
 formed into a demon of rage and jealousy. I only saw Joe 
 angry on one occasion, and that was when we were descend- 
 ing a rocky hill to the Gander, some distance above Rolling 
 Fall, when we found two lynx traps made during the 
 previous winter. Joe's eyes blazed, and he gave a grunt 
 of fierce dissatisfaction. When we got to camp he put down 
 my rifle carefully and disappeared into the woods, returning 
 some ten minutes afterwards with a face of thunder and 
 lightning. 
 
 "It is as I thought," he hissed; "they have killed my 
 beavers, and I will get even with the devils," only he did 
 not say devils. Then he proceeded to let loose his passion 
 on the white trappers who had for the first time ascended 
 the Gander, a province which Joe considered his exclusive 
 right, and poured such a torrent of threats and abuse on 
 their heads that I have seldom heard. I think that some- 
 thing will happen to the boats of those unfortunates next 
 time they move into the interior, if nothing worse occurs. 
 
 "Joe is a very good fellow," said Little Bob later, "but 
 I should not care to meet him alone in the winter if I had 
 a pack of 'fur' on my back," a sentiment in which both 
 Frank and Sandy cordially acquiesced. In fact the New- 
 
 ' In British Columbia it is an ofifence punishable by severe penalty or imprison- 
 ment to sell liquor to Indians. Why should not this be done in Newfoundland? 
 Surely the people are as sensible and humane.
 
 Four Photographs showing Various Methods ok Spying
 
 HISTORY OF NEWFOUNDLAND MICMACS 227 
 
 foundlanders generally regard the Indian with some fear 
 and distrust. Indians either like you very much or they 
 do not like you at all, and will leave you to starve in the 
 woods. Personally I saw nothing to be alarmed at in Joe's 
 attitude. " Furring " was his sole means of livelihood, and as 
 he had first found the hunting-ground and could get no 
 other if it were spoilt, he naturally was incensed at the 
 incursion of white men whose business, he considered, was 
 amongst the ships. " The coast is the white man's ; the 
 woods are ours," is the Micmacs' motto. 
 
 On 1 6th September we continued our journey eastwards, 
 McGaw and I walking ahead as usual. At noon a broad 
 sheet of water came into view, which from its shape and 
 size I knew to be Dog Lake. After a cup of tea and a 
 short rest, my friend and I set off into the country to try 
 and procure some meat, which we had been without for 
 two days. The ground was terribly swampy and broken, 
 and the walking extremely arduous. After going for about 
 three miles I ascended a larch tree and immediately spied a 
 string of five doe caribou moving round the edge of a small 
 copse. The wind was right, so we advanced rapidly upon 
 them, and as McGaw under his licence was not allowed to 
 kill a doe, I took the shot at 80 yards and dropped the 
 best deer. Each of us then shouldered a haunch and made 
 our way to camp with frequent stoppings for rest. Here 
 the men soon turned up with the canoes, and we all 
 had a glorious feast, the Matthews boys swallowing great 
 chunks of flesh as if they had not eaten for a week. In 
 the evening we got aboard, and paddled swiftly to the 
 northern end of Dog Lake, from whence our long " pack " 
 was to commence.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 DISCOVERY OF THE SOURCE OF THE GANDER AND 
 INCIDENTS OF STILL-HUNTING IN THE TIMBER 
 
 Nothing in the universe is so attractive as the unknown. 
 To the man of imagination it is the great magnet which 
 draws him away to seek fresh worlds to conquer. There 
 is in the very sound of the word that hidden mystery that 
 "tinges the sober aspect of the present with colour of 
 romance," and no one, however dull, is ever quite romance 
 proof. In consequence, men rush wildly at the North Pole and 
 after other unconquered fields, although the results achieved 
 are often out of all proportion to the labour involved. 
 
 It may seem strange to the reader that there should still 
 be unexplored districts in a small island like Newfoundland 
 which has so long been a British colony, and yet it is a 
 fact that out of a total area of 42,000 square miles, at least 
 two-thirds of the country is still as little known as it was 
 when John Cabot landed. The island has an entire length 
 of 317 miles and a breadth of 315 miles; but, broadly speak- 
 ing, all that is known of the interior is a five-mile strip from 
 the coast where its population of 250,000 dwells, and the 
 main waterways which have been principally mapped by 
 Murray and Howley since the year 1870. The reason of 
 this want of knowledge is easily explained. Horses cannot 
 go far in because there is no grass except on a few of the 
 more slow-moving rivers, and men can only carry on their 
 backs supplies for a short journey. But the principal reason, 
 
 228
 
 DISCOVERY OF SOURCE OF THE GANDER 229 
 
 at least it seems so to me, is that the Newfoundlander being 
 purely a fisherman, and delighting only in the acquisition of 
 the harvest of the sea, knows and cares little about possible 
 farm lands. Moreover, he has always been unable to build 
 light draught canoes of tough wood, because no wood capable 
 of withstanding the rocks of the rivers is to be found in the 
 island. He is also clumsy in the rivers, and unable to use 
 a pole like the Indians. Perhaps he gets a few miles up an 
 easy river in his punt, but on meeting with difficulties, such 
 as the breaking of his soft wood boat, readily gives up the 
 task. He has any amount of pluck, but no skill on the rivers. 
 Though all at home at sea, he is all at sea at home. 
 
 The little bit of unknown we were about to enter had 
 only been traversed by one man, a miner named Guzman, 
 who crossed from Bay Despair in 1875, led by Nicholas 
 Jeddore, Joe's father. Mr. Howley had ascended the Gander 
 on foot, and had reached Burnt Hill, which we could now 
 see about twenty miles to the east, and Alexander Murray 
 had surveyed and marked Partridgeberry Hill, the highest 
 mountain in Central Newfoundland, having reached it by 
 packing across from Round Bond. The country between the 
 Upper Gander and Dog Lake was unmapped and unknown, 
 a space of about fifteen miles in a straight line left blank. 
 Actually we found that this unknown area was about twenty- 
 five miles broad. It really meant about forty miles of walk- 
 ing, as it was necessary to keep on the high ground to the 
 south, so as to avoid the swamps. Our men therefore could 
 rely on little help in the way of water during their thirty 
 miles journey, for they must follow the valley route and 
 carry everything on their backs for the greater part of the 
 distance. 
 
 Accordingly I determined to divide the party. Taking the
 
 230 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 three Indians and Saunders with McGaw and myself, we were 
 to go right on to a spot where I knew there was good 
 hunting on the Upper Gander. Then McGaw and I would 
 go into camp alone for a week or ten days, and send the 
 Indians and Saunders back towards Dog Lake to assist Sandy 
 and Frank, who were meanwhile to get as far as possible. 
 This theory seemed to be the best plan, as not only could 
 we survey the easiest route for the packers and canoes 
 to follow, but we should probably kill some deer on the 
 way. The meat of these could be eaten by the men, and 
 their position pointed out by Joe, who was first of all to 
 accompany us. 
 
 We made an early start, and after going a mile or two, 
 skirted to the south-east to avoid swamps. Here we noticed 
 a small brook flowing eastwards, and being the first water 
 travelling in this direction, we decided to follow it up to its 
 source, which was found in a small still pool, and which we 
 knew must be the source of the Gander. This little brook 
 emptied into a pretty lake about two miles long which, having 
 no name, I christened Lake McGaw. By existing maps the 
 Gander stops under or to the eastwards of Burnt Hill, but 
 as a matter of fact there is a continuous stream, albeit small 
 in summer, through the small chain of lakes to within half a 
 mile of Dog Lake. 
 
 After photographing our discovery we ascended rough 
 ground through burnt timber and over rocks for two miles, 
 and then found ourselves on the shoulder of Partridgeberry 
 Hill. Joe was setting the pace, a "cracker" in spite of his 
 8o-lb. pack, and being so "sassy" I suggested an ascent to 
 the top of the mountain, from which point we could take 
 observations and see the best line for future progress. No 
 sooner said than done, though the two Indian boys and
 
 DISCOVERY OF SOURCE OF THE GANDER 231 
 
 Saunders laeeed behind ; we made the summit in half-an- 
 hour. The day being fine, there was a magnificent view in 
 every direction. All the main features of Central Newfound- 
 land were plainly visible ; Cormack, Sit Down, and Shoal 
 Lake Look-out were easily distinguished to the north-west ; 
 Bradshaw Mountain, and even the hills across Round Pond, 
 to the west ; whilst to the north-east Joe Migwell's Mountain, 
 and even Blue Hill, seventy miles away, was shining through 
 the blue haze. 
 
 At our feet was one long valley stretching from Dog Lake 
 to Burnt Hill, twelve or fourteen miles due east, where the 
 main Gander forests commence. A long strip to the north- 
 east was burnt timber, and this blackened forest extended to 
 Great Rattling Brook, and so goes on to the railway at 
 Badger's Brook. 
 
 Immediately beneath lay three lakes, McGaw's, Rocky 
 Pond, and John Jeddore's Pond, each connected by the 
 Gander flowing eastwards ; behind us to the south were bare 
 rolling hills, which fall to the south-east and rise again in 
 the great forests of the Middle Ridge. 
 
 We did not stay long on the summit as it was cold, and 
 we were anxious to get as far as possible the first day. So 
 after taking some photographs and sketches we continued east- 
 wards at a steady pace for four hours. Then we descended 
 into a wood to " bile the kettle," and, having no meat, felt 
 somewhat dissatisfied. Incidentally Martin annexed two- 
 thirds of a large tin of butter (enough to last three healthy 
 men for four days) and upset a can of milk into his tea. On 
 resuming our tramp we all kept a sharp look-out for a stag, 
 but sign of deer was scarce, the animals evidently not caring 
 much for the open country at this season. 
 
 The sun was low when we at last came under the frowning
 
 232 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 mass of Burnt Hill, and we flung ourselves wearily against 
 some rocks for one of the usual " spells." Presently all rose 
 to refresh on the delicious blueberries which were nearly as 
 large as cherries, except Martin, who was too weary to crawl. 
 As I turned to speak to him and point out a place where I 
 thought we should camp for the night, he slowly raised one 
 red finger and, pointing to the summit of the mountain, said, 
 " I see fox." 
 
 It seemed that Martin had made a wonderful "spy," for 
 to see a fox crawling along the mountain 700 feet above was 
 little short of miraculous. The telescope, however, revealed 
 a large doe caribou, and as I was about to take it from my 
 eye it revealed another beast in the form of a large stag 
 feeding about 100 yards below. We must have meat, but 
 oh ! that hill, when you have tramped twenty miles and are 
 feeling tired, and twenty miles in Newfoundland is pretty 
 stiff work. 
 
 Joe released from his pack was like a greyhound slipped 
 from the leash, and the way he raced up Burnt Hill was a 
 sight to see. I set my teeth, and followed him as fast as I 
 could, but after a bit I slowed down and let him go on, for 
 I knew he could not kill the stag with his axe. By-and-by 
 we came within view of the highest ridge, and caution being 
 necessary, Joe proceeded to behave himself with reason, and 
 allowed me to search the ground with the glass. There was 
 the doe, but the stag we could not see for a long time, but 
 suspecting that he had fed on, we gained the crest and crept 
 onwards. A bush in movement at first attracted our atten- 
 tion, and then the stag's horns came into view above it on 
 the same level as ourselves. Consequently I decided to get 
 above our quarry at the risk of moving the doe, which was 
 now in full view. A short crawl brought me within 200
 
 INCIDENTS OF STILL-HUNTING 233 
 
 yards of the stag feeding quietly on the hill beneath me, so 
 I sat up to take a quiet shot. 
 
 "What are you doing?" said Joe, who never took shots 
 farther than forty yards ; " we can get close in." 
 
 " I don't want to," I replied, for I was anxious to show 
 him what the Mannlicher could do. 
 
 The bullet took the deer high up through the ribs, and he 
 staggered a few yards with his head down. I then fired again 
 and hit him close to the same place, when he pitched forwards 
 a few yards and fell dead. 
 
 Joe said nothing, but shook his head and picked up the 
 rifle, into the nozzle of which he tried to insert his little finger, 
 but without success. 
 
 " So," he said, " if you offer to give me a rifle like that las' 
 year I wu'n't say ' thank you,' but now I think him pretty 
 good," and he walked off to bleed the stag. Its head was a 
 very pretty one of twenty-seven points, but encumbered as we 
 were with other things, it was impossible to carry it. Joe said 
 that his brother, who would shortly hunt in the neighbourhood 
 of Burnt Hill, would carry it out for me to the coast for five 
 dollars, so I left the bargain in his hands. 
 
 As he was cutting off one of the haunches I happened to 
 look down the hill to see if our men were still in sight, when 
 I observed five caribou galloping along the base of the hill 
 and coming in our direction. Three of them were undoubtedly 
 stags, so I made all haste to cut them off, leaving Joe to skin 
 and follow me. The wind being right, I easily headed the 
 deer, which, in the fading light, looked much better than they 
 really were. Two of the stags had pretty heads of about 
 twenty points, but they were not the sort of animals I desired. 
 Joe joined me in a few minutes, laden with ribs, breast, tongue, 
 and a haunch. We made for the wood, over which a haze
 
 234 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 of blue smoke hung, and we were soon at work with knife and 
 fork. It is wonderful what meat will do. We were all dog- 
 tired, but in half-an-hour after a eood meal we were all in- 
 spirited and refreshed. Saunders had done wonders for a man 
 of fifty-nine. Of course he had carried his pack quite in the 
 wrong way, the 70 lbs. being all on the back of his neck 
 instead of being properly distributed. He had fallen twice 
 to the ground from sheer exhaustion, but his indomitable 
 spirit had carried him along where a more skilful and less 
 plucky individual would have lagged behind or given in. 
 
 After a good night, during which the men slept without 
 shelter by the fireside, we continued our journey down the 
 Gander, which was now developing into a good-sized brook 
 with several deep " steadies." In one of these Joe pointed 
 out a colony of beavers which had lived there unmolested for 
 the past six years. After walking steadily from 7 till 10 we 
 encountered the first large " droke " of birch, and far along in 
 the distance, to the east, could see the commencement of more 
 green woods. Signs of deer now became more frequent, and 
 we kept a sharp look-out. When packing, the usual plan is 
 to walk in line steadily for half-an-hour, and then to take a 
 short rest. During one of these "spells," as they are called, 
 Martin again made an excellent "spy," noticing the head 
 of a stag sticking out of a peat bog about 600 yards 
 above us. 
 
 It was now McGaw's turn for a shot, and as the wind was 
 right he got within 200 yards of the deer without difficulty. 
 Here Joe, who could not sit still and see another do a stalk, 
 joined us, and so getting some rocks in between ourselves 
 and the quarry we advanced to within 100 yards, where 
 a suitable spot to shoot from offered itself My friend 
 then fired at the stag, which was now on his legs, feeding
 
 < 
 
 o 
 o 
 
 Q
 
 INCIDENTS OF STILL-HUNTING 235 
 
 slowly along, and struck it through the ribs. Another shot 
 was unnecessary, but he fired again for practice, and the stag, 
 after running a few yards, fell dead. 
 
 This was McGaw's first trophy, which means much to the 
 man who has shot it ; so, after taking the head and neck skin, 
 we cleaned the carcase and left it for the future consumption 
 of our packers. 
 
 After the midday rest and meal we kept on until night- 
 fall, when, finding a fine wood of birch, we made camp for the 
 night, after going about fifteen miles. Close to camp was a 
 large backwater, cut off from the main river by the finest 
 beaver dam I have ever seen. 
 
 The amount of work which had been effected by these 
 clever animals was tremendous. By the sides of the main 
 pool were large timber roads, along which the beavers had 
 dragged their birch logs, and then slid them down the muddy- 
 banks. Fully an acre had been cut down, and the remnants 
 of their forays lay in all directions. Following up the main 
 lake we discovered another small one, and at once detected 
 the beavers' house on the other side. Whilst we looked 
 and admired the ingenuity of the whole construction, two of 
 the occupants suddenly appeared and commenced swimming 
 slowly up and down. Both were adult animals, and did not 
 seem at all shy as they came and surveyed us with cocked 
 ears within thirty yards. 
 
 "There are about twenty live here," said Joe, "and I could 
 catch them all when I like, if it warn't for de law." Which 
 proves that the Indians do respect the game laws when they 
 are just. 
 
 In the time of Cormack (1822) beaver were numerous all 
 over the central part of the island ; but constant molestation, 
 both by white men and Indians, had made them so scarce that
 
 236 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 measures were taken for their protection a few years ago. 
 This has done much good, and the beavers have not been 
 trapped or shot to any extent. The close time, how- 
 ever, ends in October 1907, and it is certain that unless 
 further restrictions are put on the killing of this inter- 
 esting animal, the whole stock in the island will be rapidly 
 wiped out. 
 
 The Newfoundland beavers subsist largely on the root of 
 the water-lily, Nymphea odorata, called by the Indians " beaver 
 root." They also eat the bark of the spruce and the small 
 twigs of birch. Their habits are in all particulars the same 
 as those of the Canadian beaver. There is one point which 
 I should like to mention in connection with the building of the 
 dams. Many authorities assert that the mud is carried in the 
 paws and dumped down in the place required. The Indians 
 in Newfoundland say that the mud is invariably carried in the 
 mouth both for the dam and the "lodge"; that the beaver 
 deposits it in place, and turning round quickly slides or smears 
 his tail over this natural plaster, and thus makes it set. Sir 
 Edmund Loder, who has closely watched his own beavers at 
 Leonardslea building their dam, also tells me that the mud is 
 carried in the mouth. One of the cleverest things the beaver 
 does is the way in which it anchors many branches of birch 
 in the water near the lodge or bank holes. When winter 
 freezes the pond the beaver can then dive in from the holes 
 under the ice and take such branches as it requires for food 
 into its warm den, and there devours them. 
 
 One of the few superstitions of the Newfoundland Micmacs 
 relates to the beaver. They say that these animals come up 
 from the salt water and take up their abode in some small 
 pond. For the first three years these new-comers are very 
 wild, and it is impossible to trap, shoot, or call them. When
 
 INCIDENTS OF STILL-HUNTING 237 
 
 they cannot catch a beaver they say " he has just come from 
 the sea." 
 
 At daybreak Bob Saunders roused us with the news that 
 a large stag was standing on the other side of the river, and 
 that he appeared to have a very good head. I sprang from 
 my bed, and, seizing my rifle, ran out in my " nighties." Yes, 
 there he was, staring fixedly at the camp, and I sat down on 
 the cold stones and let go, estimating the distance at 150 
 yards. The stag sprang away, and after going a short dis- 
 tance turned sharply to the right and crossed the river. 
 During his passage I fired two more shots at him, both 
 going just over his back by an inch or two. But an inch is 
 a clean miss, and I had the mortification of seeing a fine head 
 dash into the alders and pass away. I had not troubled to 
 settle myself in a good shooting position, and so had missed 
 a good beast. 
 
 At noon we struck the heavy timber, and the spoor of deer 
 was seen in abundance on both sides of the river. As we were 
 about to halt for tea a stag came out of the wood at about 
 170 yards, so I sat down and killed it as food for McGaw 
 and myself. I may say in passing that every eatable part 
 of this deer and the two others which we had previously 
 killed was eaten by ourselves and the men during the next 
 eight days. It was, in fact, fortunate that we had found and 
 shot these three stags just at the points where they were 
 wanted, for it made the work of the packers much easier. 
 About twenty minutes after this incident I recognised my 
 old camp of 1903 at the riverside. Here the men rested for 
 the night, and then departed again up stream, leaving McGaw 
 and myself to our own devices for a week. 
 
 During the first day McGaw went down stream for about 
 three miles and watched some open stretches, seeing two good
 
 238 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 shootable stags, but in difificult positions. On the same day 
 I travelled up stream to a good crossing place. Several deer 
 came close to me, mostly does and young stags, and at 3 p.m. 
 I saw a party of five crossing the river about 600 yards above 
 me. It was interesting to watch their movements and to 
 see their terror when they struck the spoor of the men who 
 had travelled up the bank in the early morning. On getting 
 the wind from the track they at once rushed pell-mell back 
 into the river, where they stood staring for about a quarter 
 of an hour. Then they tried to cross it again about 100 
 yards farther down, when a similar panic overtook them. 
 After walking down the river for 400 yards, during which 
 they tested the wind and retreated from the offensive taint 
 three or four times, they came close to my position and I 
 could examine them at leisure. The party consisted of two 
 old does, a two-year old, and a five-year old stag, with eighteen 
 points. One of the does carried a head with a large number 
 of points — fifteen — this being the largest number I had seen. 
 
 McGaw and I had built our camp right in the open and 
 commanding a view of a much-used lead, where I had seen 
 two fine stags pass two years before. Our reindeer beds 
 lay on the slope of the hill, and it was decided that whoever 
 was first awake at dawn should watch this lead. At daybreak 
 I was awakened by a violent shaking and found my companion 
 busily engaged in detaching me from the arms of Morpheus. 
 
 "There's a big stag making for the lead," was McGaw's 
 first ejaculation, an announcement which needed no further 
 explanation than to sit up and seize our rifles. 
 
 "Go on, old chap," I said; "you saw the beast first, and 
 must take first shot. Distance, 320 yards." 
 
 It was a long and difficult chance with hazy light, but 
 it was our only one, as the wind was blowing directly from
 
 A Simple Snarp: for thk Varying Hare 
 A humane form of trap which should be adopted in Great Britain
 
 INCIDENTS OF STILL-HUNTING 239 
 
 us to the stag, which looked to be a splendid one. McGaw 
 aimed carefully and fired, and the stag only raised his head 
 sharply. Then I fired. My bullet evidently struck a stone 
 just under the deer's brisket, and, causing some particles 
 to touch the stag, frightened it. As it galloped away my 
 companion fired again without effect, and immediately after- 
 wards, as the animal dashed up to the forest, I let go my 
 second shot, which fortvmately broke the beast's neck. This 
 was the only long shot I fired during the trip, and I felt much 
 elated at bringing it off. When we got up to the fallen one, 
 we were much surprised to find that it was not dead, although 
 its neck was actually broken by the bullet, so I shot it through 
 the heart to end matters at once. The head proved to be 
 one of the largest I have seen in Newfoundland, the horns 
 being long (40 inches) and massive, but with very few points — 
 nineteen. This being the first good trophy we had secured, 
 we returned to breakfast in great spirits, as we were now in 
 the real home of the stags, and I hoped my friend would 
 secure such another during the next few days. 
 
 Camping and hunting alone or with a companion offers 
 no great hardship or difficulty in Newfoundland, and but for 
 the trouble of cutting logs, washing dishes, and lighting the 
 early morning fire, it is much the same as if your men were 
 with you. We had, however, chosen a shocking site on a 
 steep slope, and our fire was continually tumbling down the 
 hill into the river and throwing its heat, when we wanted it, 
 in the wrong direction. 
 
 This day, 21st September, proved to be a very enjoyable 
 one. We spent the morning in photographing and sketching, 
 &c., and then, taking some provisions, started down the river 
 for the rest of the day. 
 
 After proceeding a mile, the rain, which had been threaten-
 
 240 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 ing, came down in torrents, so we retreated into a birch droke 
 at the riverside, where we lit a fire and kept watch alternately 
 up and down the river. At about 2,30 I saw a stag skirting 
 the timber in a bend of the river some 600 yards away ; the 
 wind could not have been worse, and appeared to blow directly 
 from us to the spot whence the animal was slowly moving 
 along with its head down. As he did not seem to "get" us, 
 I resolved on a sharp run in — the only action possible, for 
 in another minute the stag would turn up into the woods and 
 be lost for good. The rocks were wet and slippery, but we 
 raced along, keeping an eye fixed on the stag the whole time. 
 Once he raised his head and looked about, and we sank into 
 the soaking grass and bush ; and then on again at the risk of 
 breaking our legs for another 300 yards. As we approached 
 the stag, which was on the other side of the river at a sharp 
 bend, I saw how it was that he had not received our wind — 
 a broad ride of low forest here intersected the high trees and 
 formed a sort of air-chute from the west, which, meeting 
 another wind and our scent winding down the river from the 
 north-west, bore it outwards and upwards before it reached 
 the stag. We were now within 100 yards, so McGaw sat 
 down and fired, as the head was a good one. The first bullet 
 went over the animal's back, but had the effect of driving the 
 deer out of the wood into the open. A second shot seemed 
 more successful, as I saw the stag wince and a moment after 
 come rushing for the river, which it endeavoured to cross. 
 Here McGaw fired three more shots without effect, as he had 
 become a bit excited and had emptied his magazine. But 
 no more were necessary, as the noble beast, throwing up his 
 head, plunged madly about for a few moments and rolled over 
 dead in the stream. 
 
 My friend was now full of joy, as he feared he had missed
 
 longhoknel) s lag shot ))y the author o.n" the upper gander, 
 September 1905
 
 INCIDENTS OF STILL-HUNTING 241 
 
 his mark, and, hastily stripping off his coat, went into the river 
 to remove the head. He brought ashore a good, massive 
 set of horns, wild in appearance, but not large in frame. 
 The evening was drawing on, so we returned to camp 
 and killed our stags over again around the blazing fire. 
 During the next few days the weather was still and hot, and 
 deer move about but little at such times. Under cover of 
 the night many stags crossed from the dense forest of the 
 south to the " loose " timber on the north bank, as I could see 
 by the fresh spoor each morning. We saw a couple of stags 
 every day, but nothing with a head good enough to tempt 
 one to take a shot. 
 
 On the night of the 24th the men came with the canoes, 
 having had an arduous journey of eight days since leaving 
 Dog Lake. They had received some help on the three lakes, 
 but the river itself had proved nothing but a series of shallows 
 and rocky benches, in which it was unsafe to drag the canoes, 
 so they had had to pack nearly the whole distance. Martin 
 Matthews and his brother had worked well and were of great 
 assistance in portaging the outfit ; in fact without their timely 
 help the packers would have been three days longer on 
 the road. 
 
 As he had now only one more stag to kill under the terms 
 of his licence and was also anxious to catch a steamer for home 
 early in October, my friend now departed for Glenwood, about 
 60 miles down the river. He was to stop either at Serpentine 
 Hill or Migwell's Brook, and I felt sure he would kill a good 
 one at one of these places. As a matter of fact he saw five 
 stags the first day at Serpentine Hill and killed the best one, 
 a twenty-eight pointer, and so returned to civilisation, having 
 thoroughly enjoyed his tramp. 
 
 It is a curious thing how the habits and movements of 
 
 Q
 
 242 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 wild animals will change with different seasons. In 1903, when 
 I hunted on the Gander, all the big stags were constantly 
 to be seen standing out on the river or crossing it during 
 the morning or evening. By 20th September they were 
 ready to move out, collect does and travel south with 
 them. I explain this by the fact that the winter of 1902-3 
 had been an exceptionally mild one and the stags had early 
 come into fine condition. Now in 1905 a different state of 
 affairs prevailed. The winter of 1904-5 had been one of 
 the severest on record, and when the spring came, the deer 
 were reduced to the most wretched condition. As a rule 
 they can get at the caribou moss in April by scraping in the 
 snow with their feet, but in this season the frost continued 
 to pack the snow into a hard block which could not be pene- 
 trated, and the deer were forced to subsist on the " maldow," 
 a bearded moss which hangs in the fir-trees and which 
 is only capable of supporting life. The result was a very 
 backward season, in which the animals, with few exceptions, 
 grew poor heads and were in no condition. In consequence 
 the rut was deferred for a period of nearly three weeks, 
 an almost unheard-of event in Newfoundland, and the big 
 stags were still keeping closely to the timber as late as 
 25th September. 
 
 I saw, therefore, if I was to obtain a first-class head or 
 two, I must adopt a different method of hunting, and search 
 for the bearers of antlers amongst the timber itself Now to 
 hunt the caribou stag in its home of dense woods, such as 
 stretches on the south bank of the Gander from Burnt Hill 
 to the Gander Lake, was quite out of the question, owing 
 to its great density, and the fact that deer would hear the 
 advent of man before he could catch a glimpse of one of 
 them. Some thousands of stags inhabit this great forest.
 
 Gralloching 
 
 Camp Scene un the Upper Gander
 
 INCIDENTS OF STII.L-HUNTING 243 
 
 and a few cross the river every night to feed amongst the 
 loose timber situated on the north bank, as well as to lie 
 up where the trees are not so closely packed as on the 
 south side. 
 
 It was, therefore, necessary to become a "still-hunter," 
 and to seek the stag by slow and careful manoeuvres in the 
 semi-open forest to the north. Numerous tall larches are 
 scattered throughout this country, and from the topmost 
 branches of these, small openings in the woods and various 
 glades can be spied at intervals ; so during the next eight 
 days Joe and I spent our time alternately creeping slowly 
 up-wind about the forest in moccasins, and spying likely 
 bits of country from the tree-tops. This is by far the most 
 entertaining and difificult method of hunting the caribou. It 
 is quite distinct from river-hunting, which 1 have already 
 described, and which requires patience, quickness, and straight 
 shooting, sometimes at long range ; or open-ground stalking, 
 which is easy ; or waiting on trails at migration time, which 
 is scarcely sport at all. Once in the timber, with its eddying 
 winds, its intense stillness, and its abundance of noisy debris, 
 the caribou stag becomes a high-class beast of the chase, 
 and almost as difficult to kill as the wapiti or the red stag 
 under similar circumstances. With the trees around to help 
 the sight, sound, and olfactory nerves, he seems to gain 
 unusual perception, especially during the short season prior 
 to the taking of wives. The crack of a stick, the slightest 
 movement, or the puff of the tainted atmosphere, and he is 
 off full gallop without further inquiry. Those who have only 
 seen the caribou stag under conditions of the "rut" or the 
 blind movement of migration, are in no sense qualified to 
 speak of him as a beast of the chase, as it only takes in one 
 point of view. In the wood he is a different animal altogether,
 
 244 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 and an object worthy of the hunter's skill. In Canada I 
 have heard old hunters say that, next to the moose, the 
 caribou is the most difificult animal to kill in timber, and here 
 in Newfoundland the same animal that any boy could slay 
 in the last week of October will not be shot in mid-September 
 by tenderfeet with hobnailed boots. 
 
 The day after McGaw left I moved camp a mile down 
 stream to a large birch droke, and saw a fine stag just as we 
 were building the lean-to. By running in I got within 200 
 yards, and had just time to put the glass upon his head, and 
 see that he was not good enough. Next morning we were early 
 astir, and whilst preparing for the day's hunt, I sent Joe up 
 a high larch-tree at the back of the camp to view the ground. 
 He had departed about five minutes, when I saw him again 
 descending the tree, so I knew he had seen something. A 
 moment afterwards he ran up to say that a stag with very 
 fine horns had just appeared for a second as it fed along 
 among the trees about 400 yards away. As the wind was 
 right, coming from the north, we circled away from the camp to 
 marshy ground, to make less noise, and so advanced through 
 the trees in the direction which Joe indicated. 
 
 " It was just there he was," whispered my companion, as 
 he pointed to the blackened spoor caused by the impress of 
 the cutting hoofs. We stood perfectly still for five minutes, 
 as the wind had dropped, and showed signs of being shifty, 
 and then, hearing nothing, moved cautiously forward in circles 
 on to a high stony mound from which a better view could 
 be obtained. We were just leaving this, when I happened to 
 glance behind me, and at once detected a small snow-white 
 spot amongst the trees. Almost immediately it disappeared, 
 and I knew that it must be the stag coming back on its own 
 spoor, A retreat was therefore necessary, as the wind was
 
 INCIDENTS OF STILL-HUNTING 245 
 
 swirling about in a disheartening fashion, so we ran as noise- 
 lessly as possible for a short distance on our back tracks, and 
 I then saw the stag walking slowly forward amongst the trees 
 with his ears set at an attentive cock. He had obtained 
 a puff from our tracks and was going to examine them. 
 Suddenly he stopped and started, so I sat down immediately 
 with my back against Joe's shoulders. At this moment his 
 fears seemed to be realised, and he swung round to gallop 
 across the open space about lo yards broad. As he did so, 
 I fired and broke his back, giving a second shot as he tried 
 to recover. This stag carried a beautiful set of antlers with 
 thirty-four points, and was by far the best I secured in 1905. 
 The bays were exceptionally fine and the beam very long 
 (46 inches) and very broad in the centre. What made it 
 to me a fine trophy was its wild nature, as it had extra 
 points sticking out of the main beam just above the bays. 
 The whole head seemed to carry a little forest of antlers all 
 the way up the horns, making it very attractive. Like so 
 many caribou heads, it had, however, only one good brow ; 
 the other, though long, being of the scraggy order. I went 
 to camp for my camera, but it came on to rain hard, so after 
 skinning off the head, we had to return to camp, and waited 
 till it became clearer. 
 
 " Kesculah " (the closing shower), said Joe, surveying the 
 heavens as we made a start into the country, and kept 
 working the timber steadily till sunset. We had many more 
 "Kesculahs" that day, and, having tramped about 10 miles 
 towards Great Rattling Brook, sat down to rest on the edge 
 of a great open barren surrounded by dense timber. " A 
 good place to watch," suggested Joe, so we made a fire and 
 were refreshing ourselves with tea and meat when a stag 
 appeared on the edge of the woods behind us. He was a very
 
 246 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 big fellow, but his horns were wretched, and, like all bad heads, 
 he wandered up close at hand, giving me time to make some 
 sketches at 30 yards distance. 
 
 Shortly after this incident I was standing half undressed in 
 front of the fire, drying my soaking clothes, when Joe, who 
 was, as usual, "up a tree," pointed to the north with his long 
 red finger. Something was flashing in and out of the trees, 
 a deer for certain, but of what sort I could not make out, 
 even with the help of the glass. 
 
 " Dat him for sure ; he's going fast and lookin' for de does." 
 
 Joe was right, for we presently had a good but momentary 
 glimpse of an immense stag rapidly passing along the edge of 
 the timber with his nose on the ground. I bundled on some 
 clothes and we made off at our best speed across the marsh 
 to head him. We had not gone far, however, when we both 
 plunged in up to our waists in the bog. To extricate our- 
 selves was a moment's work, but a few yards farther a similar 
 disaster overtook us, Joe going in up to his armpits, from 
 which uncomfortable position I had to haul him. We now 
 found ourselves in a perfect maze of bogs, and after vainly 
 endeavouring to find a passage through, we were forced to 
 retreat by following our own spoor back. Now we made a 
 fresh start only to encounter a further series of bog holes 
 and treacherous swamps, through which, after some careful 
 manoeuvring, we eventually found a passage. 
 
 Meanwhile the stag was rapidly advancing across our 
 front at a "running" walk, so we had to put on all steam to 
 head him. He was almost opposite to us and about 350 
 yards distance, when he must have caught a glimpse of our 
 movements as we sought to place some bushes between us. 
 He stopped short at once and stared at us, and we sank to 
 the ground and lay perfectly still. It was bitterly cold, and
 
 Stag's Head with Fine Brow Shovel Shot near 
 Migwell's Brook, September 1905
 
 INCIDENTS OF STILL-HUNTING 247 
 
 we were wet to the skin, and there that wretched animal 
 kept us for fully a quarter of an hour without moving. I 
 began to shiver, and my teeth to chatter, but still he kept 
 his neck stiff and straight. At last, after what seemed an 
 age, he moved on a few yards and we raced for the bushes. 
 Here, another staring match ensued, till Joe, losing patience, 
 said, " I don't think that stag quite make us out. He think 
 we's another stag, so I ' toll ' him." 
 
 The Indian thereupon commenced an appalling series 
 of loud grunts, enough, as I thought, to scare every deer 
 out of the country ; but not so our amorous friend, who at 
 once replied with similar noises, and trotted up to within 
 150 yards. The sun had set, so I could not see his horns 
 properly, but Joe said they were better than those I had 
 obtained in the morning, so, getting a good rest, I fired, 
 and struck the stag in the middle of the chest. He galloped 
 off madly, so fast that I felt sure the shot was fatal, and 
 did not fire again. After going about 50 yards he tripped 
 over a hummock and fell dead. 
 
 " As big a stag as I see," pronounced Joe, as we gazed 
 on the fallen one ; but his head, which appeared big in the 
 evening light, although a fair one, was disappointing, and 
 I had to reckon it amongst the mistakes every hunter 
 makes in dealing with these deer. 
 
 After cutting off the head and recovering our kettles 
 and clothes, we made for camp, a distance of seven or 
 eight miles. Most of this was tough walking, where alders 
 slashed you in the face and unseen holes and swamps met 
 you at every step, but we accomplished it in the semi- 
 darkness without mishap, and so got home after a hard 
 though most enjoyable day. 
 
 All the half-wooded country on the north bank, between
 
 248 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 my camp and Little Gull River as far as Great Rattling 
 Brook, was full of deer, principally consisting of big stags, 
 mostly old fellows "going back." On 26th September I saw 
 eight stags, either by spying from high trees or still-hunting 
 in the timber. Four of these got the wind or heard us 
 and there was no chance of seeing their heads, and three 
 proved to be old fellows whose days of good horn growth 
 had vanished. 
 
 Just as we turned to come home in the evening we found 
 ourselves in a series of little stony hills close to the river. 
 The wind blew directly in our faces, and in rounding one 
 of these litde mounds we suddenly came upon a very large 
 stag with his head down in a hole of moss. His eyes were 
 completely obscured, and so he had neither seen nor smelt 
 us. It was very interesting to survey a big stag, for he 
 was a very large fellow, within 15 yards, without his being 
 aware of our presence. He bore an extraordinary head, 
 not on account of its size, but on account of its smallness. 
 A complete caribou head was there with double brows, 
 good bays, and tops, but the whole was not larger than 
 that carried by a good three-year-old. I stood regarding it 
 with interest, whilst Joe whispered, "That's a curiosity head 
 and you must shoot it," which I did after some hesitation. 
 
 If the reader is interested in horns he must be struck 
 by the curious disparity this head bears to the long-horned 
 specimen which I had killed during the past week. In fact, 
 amongst the Newfoundland caribou I have shot every type of 
 horn that is supposed to exist amongst the various so-called 
 sub-species which inhabit Western British Columbia and Alaska. 
 Forms of horns alone are by no means a sure test of species 
 or sub-species, although it is well to bear in mind that every 
 local race of deer has a certain general type of its own.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 WORK AND SPORT IN THE UPPER REACHES OF THE 
 GANDER AND GULL RIVERS 
 
 During the night we were serenaded by a lynx, which 
 kept up an unearthly caterwaul at intervals. It had doubt- 
 less smelt the meat and was calling to its partner. 
 
 Nearly all white men as well as the Indians say that 
 there were no lynxes in Newfoundland fifteen years ago, 
 and that they came to the island about this time from 
 Labrador by means of the ice bridge at the straits of 
 Belleisle. It is also said that as the lynx entered so the 
 wolves departed. But I do not think that this view is 
 correct, for as long ago as 1622 Captain Whitbourne noted 
 the presence of "leopards" in the island and subsequent 
 writers also mention the " wild cats." 
 
 Doubtless they were very scarce until recent years, but 
 now they are the most abundant of all the carnivora in the 
 island, and do much damage to the game.^ They live to 
 a large extent on the small varying hare and grouse, seldom 
 touching carrion until forced to do so by extreme hunger. 
 Everywhere one sees their tracks on the sandy shores of 
 the lakes, and at night and early morning I have often 
 heard their screaming caterwaul. He is a sly silent beast 
 is A-bak-sigan, the shadow, and his retiring habits hide 
 him from the gaze of man. Of all animals he is the easiest 
 
 ' I have little doubt that the great increase in the number of lynxes is due to the 
 
 introduction of the small varying hare, which furnishes a good supply of food at all 
 
 seasons. Animals which are well fed always breed more regularly and have large 
 
 families than those which are only just able to support life. 
 
 249
 
 250 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 to trap, the best method being that employed by the Indians, 
 of which I give a sketch. A good Indian trapper will kill 
 from 50 to 100 in one season. I have never seen the 
 lynx, but I have seen the tragedy of the little hare's death 
 written on the snow as plainly as if I had been there to 
 witness it. Here is where the lynx suddenly stopped in his 
 prowling v/alk ; here is where he crouched on seeing the 
 unfortunate "rabbit"; and again that is where he leaped 
 after his prey in immense bounds, rapidly overtaking the 
 scurrying form. The scattered earth and leaves with crimson 
 patches and tufts of hair on the frozen snow show where 
 the death took place, and the tracks of the lynx now walking 
 slowly indicate where he has borne his victim to the side 
 of a bush where more tufts of hair, two leg bones, and a 
 skull and eyes, exhibit the last stage of the tragedy. 
 
 No doubt lynxes kill a few very young caribou fawns, 
 but only those that are lying hidden in the undergrowth 
 apart from their mothers. 
 
 The day following that on which I had killed the two 
 big stags was a typical day's still-hunting, and its various 
 incidents will serve to show something of the nature of this 
 particular form of the chase and its excitements, so I take 
 leave to copy it directly from my diary as it was written. 
 
 Wednesday, ijih September. — We moved camp this morn- 
 ing three miles down the river to the mouth of Little Gull 
 River, where we left Bob to build a camp in the angle of 
 the two streams. It was a beautiful autumn morning, clear 
 and still, with the golden leaves showering from the bushes 
 into the river. We had left camp in the darkness, and so 
 saw the day break in all that pellucid clearness which is 
 a never-failing source of wonder and enjoyment to the 
 lover of Nature. Round about were the wood thrushes,
 
 Thirty-four Pointer with Irregular Horns Shot near Little 
 Gull River, September 1905
 
 SPORT ON THE GANDER AND THE GULL 251 
 
 trying with the advent of their new clothes to reconstruct 
 the songs of spring-time, and lilting sweetly among the 
 bushes. Occasionally a Hock of crossbills passed overhead 
 with their clinking cry, or a solitary pine grossbeak chanted 
 a low melody from the top of some spruce. Even the last 
 of the brilliant yellow-and-green wood warblers had not 
 vanished, and still chased the Hies in sheltered nooks. 
 
 Everything in the air bespoke autumn. The slight night 
 frosts had imparted an activity and a potency to all things. 
 The delicious scent of the spruce or fir boughs over one's 
 head, or the odours of the wood fire that blazes up merrily, 
 are all more intense and satisfactory as the season advances, 
 and we sit round the blazing logs with appetites sharpened 
 by weeks of pure air and healthful exercise. This is Life 
 — and I am enjoying it. We have found the stags too ; we 
 are even camped in the "Sanctuary," where no man comes, 
 and that, though selfish, is none the less delightful. 
 
 A party of jays rose from the river bank as we launched 
 the canoe, for they had already found some of the spoils 
 of yesterday, and were taking their share, carrying off the 
 meat in large mouthfuls, or bearing it in their feet to some 
 rotten pine in the forest where the winter stores were hidden, 
 from which retreat they uttered their mellifluous whistle. 
 Rain and wind had been prevalent for the past few days, 
 but to-day a clear sky and a glow in the east gave promise 
 of a fine day, certainly the worst weather for still-hunting, 
 but pleasant for man, who likes to sit and gaze into the 
 distance. 
 
 We walked noiselessly to our first spy-tree, an old larch 
 about 50 feet high, and up this Joe climbed like a monkey, 
 whilst I pottered about and gazed in admiration at an immense 
 dropped horn I had discovered. On this horn were no 
 fewer than twenty-six points, and others had already been
 
 252 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 eaten away by does during the previous winter. Ah, if 
 only I could see the grand fellow who bore that trophy ! he 
 must have been a veritable fifty-pointer. Whilst Joe spied 
 I beat the ground carefully in circles in the immediate 
 neighbourhood, in the hope of discovering the other horn 
 of the pair ; but I did not find it, although I discovered two 
 other splendid horns (both right antlers), one bearing twenty 
 points, the other twenty-one. That stags of forty, forty-two, 
 and fifty points had each shed their antlers within 200 yards 
 of one another in 1903, for they were all two years old, was 
 somewhat remarkable, but it shows what magnificent heads 
 are still hidden in the forest of the Upper Gander. 
 
 In ten minutes Joe descended, having only seen three 
 does and a small stag, so we proceeded to a high mound of 
 sandstone rock which commanded a splendid view of the 
 whole of the open forest to the north. Much of it was so 
 hidden that there might be dozens of stags there without 
 our seeing them, as the whole place was covered with fresh 
 tracks and droppings. The best chance was to wait and 
 view a moving stag, as such an one is quickly picked up by 
 experienced eyes as it flashes in and out amongst the trees, 
 even a couple of miles away. 
 
 " I think stags goin' to be very quiet to-day, boss," 
 remarked Joe, as he shut up the glass. " It's goin' to be 
 too fine " — a prognostication that was not fulfilled, for at 
 intervals we kept viewing deer the whole day. We had 
 not long to wait when Joe made an excellent spy, seeing a 
 stag moving through the trees fully a mile away. He was 
 heading due west, and travelling from thicket to thicket over 
 very broken and hilly ground. "We must run," said Joe, 
 and run we did, until we were both exhausted. Down into 
 holes, through alder swamps, then up little sandy hills, 
 through little thickets, then on to hard moss ground, then
 
 wi/^i ^^..^.gatiiS 
 
 fy7^-//////////y A' rr/ ///// //y/r'/y // //frr/ <^/r/ y
 
 SPORT ON THE GANDER AND THE GULL 253 
 
 through two streams, and then up a tree, to see how the 
 game was progressing. 
 
 " Not far enough yet," said Joe, so on we went, making 
 great casts down-wind, and watching from every available 
 point. He might pass close to us or behind us at any 
 moment, so thick was the timber in places, but at "cutting- 
 off" stags, Joe was my superior and seldom made a mistake, 
 so I left it entirely in his hands. At last he said, " He gone 
 by unless he stop somewhere up-wind," a sound piece of 
 judgment, which we now acted upon by moving across against 
 the wind. We had not proceeded far when Joe, who was 
 in front, suddenly stopped and drew back slowly, so I knew 
 he had seen the quarry. I crept forward and saw a large 
 stag lying on a steep mound above a brook, about loo yards 
 away, and, whilst observing his horns, which were poor, a 
 loud crash of antlers resounded in the forest about 60 yards 
 to the right, and there was the sound of war and turmoil. 
 The fighters were in a thick place, but, as the wind was 
 blowing well, I crept in on my hands and knees, and got 
 within 30 yards of two five-year-old stags, who were doing 
 a little bit of preliminary practice. They were not fighting 
 seriously, but boxing, to try their strength, and I obtained 
 a splendid view of their manoeuvres at close range. They 
 seem to spar in much the same manner as red deer, always 
 whipping round quickly to gain the advantage of the hill 
 whenever one or other obtained the push. After watching 
 them for ten minutes, and whilst making a sketch, one of 
 the combatants gave his antagonist a good blow in the side 
 which caused the latter to retreat precipitously on to the 
 top of myself. I was too intent on my work for the moment 
 to see what was happening, and looked up to find a great 
 beast staring me in the face within five yards. I rose to 
 get out of his way, deeming a closer acquaintance undesirable.
 
 254 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 when he dashed round with a loud "whoup" of fear, and, 
 taking the other stags along with him, stood for a moment 
 on the hill and then galloped off to the north. 
 
 We had not left the hill two minutes when we encountered 
 another large stag — a regular old patriarch he looked, with 
 thin, wretched horns. He was moving westwards, so we 
 let him go by without disturbance. At midday we found 
 two more stags by slow still-hunting. These were also 
 undesirable old fellows, and about three another big fellow 
 heard or smelt us as we passed along, and galloped off in 
 great terror. About four we passed several does, and then 
 saw the usual snow-white neck of a large stag as it lay on 
 the edge of a small barren. What was my surprise to see, 
 on raising the telescope, that the beast was a "hummel,"^ or 
 hornless stag, certainly a rarity, but one we did not appreciate. 
 It was getting late, so we turned homewards down-wind, 
 still hunting carefully as we went along. It was getting 
 nearly dark when I saw the stern of a large stag move 
 round a belt of firs about 200 yards to our left, and at 
 once left Joe and crept after the animal. The horns of the 
 stag were swaying from side to side as they always do when 
 a well-antlered deer moves along with his head down, so I 
 had hopes of securing another good head. Presently the 
 stag turned sideways, and I sat up and allowed him to see 
 me, as I wanted him to raise his head. The result was not 
 satisfactory — a well-formed twenty-five pointer, but not class 
 enough, so he was allowed to trot away to his friends. 
 
 So home to camp at seven, without having fired my rifle 
 and having seen nine warrantable stags. 
 
 During the next three days we continued our still-hunting, 
 and were successful in finding a good many deer, but no 
 
 1 Hummels are much rarer amongst caribou than red deer. Joe had only seen 
 two in his life before the present example.
 
 
 
 '5-^0.% i. 
 
 
 v^-y 
 
 ^>-- h -tt|- V~"a -^h "-1-?^^ 
 
 V, Bernard s"^ 
 
 TSylvesfer >, cgq 
 
 . ^ "",- ^ IJi - - ^1 --■^ Tamnapegawi// ,-y*%^. 
 
 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 Compass sketch of Long Harbor River 
 
 and country between 
 
 Middle Ridge & Fortune Bay- 
 By jg.millais 1907.
 
 SPORT ON THE GANDER AND THE GULL 255 
 
 heads worth shooting. On 30th September I moved camp 
 to Serpentine Hill, and on the following day killed two fine 
 stags, one of which carried a very pretty head. 
 
 Serpentine Hill or Hills are a long chain of rocky hills 
 about ten miles long on the south bank of the Gander. They 
 are only slightly wooded, and afford a magnificent view of 
 the whole of the sparsely wooded flats and smaller sandy 
 hills on the north bank. By ascending a short distance you 
 can see deer moving anywhere within a radius of two miles, 
 and so the position of a camp in such a spot is simply ideal. 
 At daybreak Joe had gone to spy, and awoke me with the 
 news that a stag with very good horns was feeding about 
 a mile away on the other side of the river. I jumped out 
 of bed, pulled on my boots, and we ran to the canoe quickly 
 and crossed the river. Here we found ourselves in a large 
 swamp, which extended for a mile to the hard ground and 
 forest, where the stag had been spied. Through the marsh 
 we continued to run until I suddenly felt quite exhausted 
 and unable to proceed farther. It had not occurred to me 
 that a cup of tea and a few biscuits would have been a 
 good thing on which to commence the day, and now I felt 
 faint and almost unable to proceed. We crawled on slowly 
 for a few hundred yards, and then Joe pointed out the 
 " open," where he had seen the stag with two does. After 
 waiting a few minutes one of the does came into view, so 
 we sat down, expecting to see his lordship at any moment. 
 Since he did not appear, I sent Joe to climb a tree to my 
 left, and lay down to rest and await eventualities. Joe 
 had hardly left me when I saw both the stag and the other 
 doe come through the short timber to my right. I there- 
 fore recalled the Indian and worked into a good shooting 
 position. The stag was a small one, but seemed to carry 
 nicely-shaped antlers, so, when he passed across my front
 
 256 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 at lOO yards, I fired, and struck him right through the heart. 
 Joe soon skinned off the head, and we returned to camp 
 slowly, where a good hot breakfast soon put me to rights 
 again. Mem. : Do not in future run over swamps in the 
 early morning without first having taken some food. It 
 is not wise. 
 
 After breakfast we ascended the mountain where we had 
 discovered a good spying-place, and so settled ourselves 
 for a long look. Five or six deer were already in sight 
 in spite of our having run over a good part of the ground. 
 It was, however, my turn to find a good beast, for, with the 
 aid of the telescope, I just caught a glimpse of him as he 
 glinted in and out of a great belt of spruce fully a mile and 
 a half away. The white neck of a big caribou stag is quite 
 conspicuous at a great distance, and even at this long range 
 I could see that the bays were large and thick. 
 
 So once again we were down the hill, over the river and 
 running northwards across swamp and barren for a point 
 ahead of the amorous traveller. First we encounter a doe 
 and a fawn, then two young stags, and then Joe, after a 
 tree spy, marked what he thought must be the big fellow 
 I had seen. It was a good-sized beast in truth that he 
 had seen moving in front of us, but on heading him I saw 
 at once that it was not "my" stag, as his bays were almost 
 absent. He came sauntering along, so I thought I would 
 try a little amateur "tolling." To my surprise the stag at 
 once responded, and came grunting up close to our shelter and 
 would hardly go away. We left him, and hurried on thinking 
 that the big stag must either have passed by us or still be 
 to the north-east and heading west, in which case we might 
 see him. But work which way we liked, there was no sign 
 of the deer for an hour at any rate, when Joe ascended a 
 high larch on the edge of dense forest, and tried to survey
 
 SPORT ON THE GANDER AND THE GULL 257 
 
 the country to the east. He remained up in the branches for 
 ten minutes, and then descended. Just as his feet touched 
 the ground, I heard an unusual noise of some sort. Joe 
 stood rigid, and asked me if I had heard anything, to which 
 I replied that I thought I had detected a low grunt. We 
 stood listening intently, when over his shoulder I saw a great 
 stag walking slowly towards us out of the timber. We 
 crouched low at once, and he came on, giving me an easy 
 shot at 50 yards, the sort of chance which could not be 
 missed. The stag ran fully 100 yards after receiving the 
 bullet through the heart, and then turned a somersault and 
 fell dead. I rushed up to the fallen one, which I felt sure 
 was an exceptional head, but was much disappointed to find 
 that this was not the case. The deer itself was the largest 
 I had ever seen, but the tops of the horns, which had been 
 thrown back as the animal came towards me and were in 
 consequence out of view, were exceedingly poor. We took 
 a haunch, the shank skins for moccasins, and the head, and 
 were back in camp at one. 
 
 The following day Joe and I were following a wooded 
 stream up towards Great Rattling Brook, ten miles to the 
 north, when I saw a large doe feeding on dead alder leaves, 
 and stood to watch her. She picked each leaf off daintily, 
 and kept looking up the brook as if waiting for another deer 
 to appear. We naturally inferred that there must be a stag 
 with her at this season, and so sat down and waited for fully 
 an hour without hearing a bush shake or a stick crack. 
 
 " I think we go on," said Joe at last, and we rose to 
 proceed, at the same time showing ourselves to the doe. 
 There was a loud crash close by, and I could just see the 
 white stern of a big stag as it sprang from the bank into 
 the stream and dashed away. Running forward, I found a 
 clearing, and had a good sight of the stag, which I saw at 
 
 R
 
 258 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 once had splendid brows. So I snapped at him as his back 
 showed up for a moment and missed. After running 30 
 yards farther he turned sideways to recross the stream in 
 which I was myself standing to gain a better view, and so pre- 
 sented for a moment a good broadside. My second shot was 
 quite successful, as it broke the stag's neck, and caused him to 
 fall with a great splash into the brook. 
 
 This was the second best and the last head I secured 
 during the expedition. The brows and bays were all that 
 could be desired — in fact these parts were quite perfect, but 
 the tops were short and somewhat spindly. However, I 
 was glad to have secured three fine specimens in nine heads, 
 and that is as many good heads as any hunter can expect 
 to shoot unless he strikes new ground and meets with a 
 large number of stags in an exceptional year, as I had done 
 in 1903, and did afterwards in 1906. 
 
 In all the lakes lying adjacent to the Gander the dusky 
 mallard [Anas obscurus) was plentiful at this season. This 
 species, similar in habits to the common mallard [Anas boschas) 
 is widely distributed through North America and Canada east 
 of a line formed by the Rocky Mountains. North of a line 
 drawn from the St. Lawrence to the Rockies the "black 
 duck," as it is generally called, is numerous in all the prairie 
 pools and in the lakes and muskegs of the great north as far as 
 the Arctic Ocean. In New England it is known as the dusky 
 duck, in the Southern States as black mallard, in Florida 
 and Mexico as the black English duck, and it is the Mah- 
 kudasheed o{ the Canadian Indians. A dull bird of black and 
 brown it looks at a distance, but when handled the bright 
 orange legs, green bill, and metallic blue and green speculum 
 give it a certain beauty of colour. Males and females are very 
 similar in appearance. They spend the winter in the Southern 
 States, and arrive in pairs in Canada and Newfoundland in
 
 ■fSf ^m ^ y ^ JEMMUtJ 
 
 Belleoram 
 
 Belleoram Bkearwater and \'ie\v of the Ikon Skull
 
 SPORT ON THE GANDER AND THE GULL 259 
 
 April, where they at once seek for nesting sites. The nest is 
 formed of pine needles, twigs and leaves, and in all their 
 breeding habits and general mode of life they are exactly 
 similar to the common wild duck. 
 
 During the following eight days I experienced a great deal 
 of hard walking to determine the course and position of Little 
 Gull River, Great Rattling Brook, and the lakes and hills 
 adjacent to them. I found several new lakes in the valley 
 between Serpentine Hills and the Middle Ridge. I also 
 found the correct trend of Great Gull River, and its even- 
 tual convergence and course parallel to Little Gull River, 
 and many other points which are of interest to geographers 
 and surveyors, and which may seem somewhat dull to the 
 general reader. Joe and I must have walked over lOO 
 miles in the time, and I was somewhat weary when we 
 reached Rolling Falls on the 9th of October. During all 
 this tramping, in which I attended solely to claims of geo- 
 graphical interest, I saw many stags and does, but not one 
 of sufficient calibre to tempt me to contravene the close 
 season. I admit it is curious, but it is nevertheless a fact. 
 
 On the loth we made good progress down the river, 
 which was very low and dangerous. We passed the Rocky 
 Rapids in safety, but, in trying to run a small rapid just 
 below, had a narrow escape from being drowned. Joe, who 
 was in front and carrying a light load, successfully passed 
 between the two rocks, where the stream though fast looked 
 safe enough ; but when Saunders and I attempted to run 
 it, we found our canoe wedged in between an unseen rock 
 and one of the larger ones, and with a wall of rushing 
 water higher than the canoe racing by on either side. 
 Seeing the danger, we both drove our paddles on to the 
 rock, and exerted all our strength to lift the canoe. At 
 first it scarcely moved and the water poured over us, half-
 
 260 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 filling the boat, and then the force of the stream made 
 itself felt, and gradually bore us onwards and outwards to 
 safety into a small rapid. It was a ticklish moment, and 
 I felt much relieved at only getting a ducking. When low 
 the Gander is a dangerous river even to those who know 
 it, and the traveller if nervous will do well to walk down 
 stream. The way is long, but the beach is safe. 
 
 On the loth we were detained by a gale, snowstorms 
 from the east, and on the nth much the same conditions 
 prevailed ; yet we made a start and reached the Gander 
 Lake in the evening, after as hard a day's paddling as I can 
 remember. Here on the lake, thirty-three miles long, we met 
 the full fury of the north-east, and had to go into camp for two 
 days, although only fourteen miles from Glenwood, which we 
 reached in safety on October 14th, and so ended my third 
 expedition in the wilds of Newfoundland. 
 
 Joe was going to walk away back to his "tilt" up in 
 the mountains near Burnt Hill, a distance of eighty miles, 
 and, as I had not allowed him to carry a gun on our trip, 
 McGaw and I thought that as he had served us well we 
 would make him a present of one to help him to obtain 
 supplies on his way. His joy on receiving the new muzzle- 
 loader was great, and the woods about the Glenwood saw- 
 mill were soon echoing with a series of loud reports. Having 
 tried his gun, which he pronounced as good, he purchased 
 some commodities and came to say "Good-bye," as I had 
 arranged that the steamer would take him to the far side of the 
 Glenwood Lake, thus saving about fifteen miles bad walking. 
 
 " See here, boss, next time you come to Newfoundland 
 we'll go partners together. You can do all the shootin', and 
 I will trap, and we'll make lots of dollars." It did not occur 
 to his simple mind that I did not want to make a few dollars
 
 SPORT ON THE GANDER AND THE GULL 261 
 
 out of his local knowledge, but he meant it as a compliment, 
 and I took it as such. 
 
 "Good-bye, boss; you come again, an' if I shoot a fifty- 
 pointer, I keep him for you," and the red man shouldered 
 a seventy-pound pack, lifted his gun, and drifted slowly down 
 the road out of sight. 
 
 Glenwood has grown considerably since I was there in 
 1903. They have been busy at the saw-mills, and had made 
 no fewer than seven million planks in 1905, and houses 
 had sprung up on all hands. Only that unique institution 
 the Reid Newfoundland Railroad went on as usual. The 
 primitive rolling stock and the problematical road bed were 
 still there, serving as a highway for numerous goats. Now 
 goats are clever creatures, and, though they used the track 
 as their path through the woods, they had also discovered 
 the safest thoroughfare. Certainly there was reason why 
 the trains could not overrun a goat, but there was no reason 
 why the goats, like Mark Twain's cow, should not come 
 aboard and bite the passengers. 
 
 We had quite a safe and uneventful journey to St. John's. 
 At Terra-Nova some trifle occurred to cause a delay of 
 two hours. At Whitburn we ran off the track, and ploughed 
 up the permanent way for about 200 yards. This contre- 
 temps occurred close to the station, so section men got to 
 work and put us on again. Then at Avondale the cylinder 
 head or something blew off the engine, and we had time 
 to do a little berry-picking and make sarcastic remarks. 
 However, we reached St. John's within a day of the adver- 
 tised time, which is considered pretty good travelling in 
 Newfoundland.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 TO MOUNT SYLVESTER WITH THE MICMAC INDIANS 
 
 It was not my intention to visit Newfoundland in 1906, but 
 a variety of circumstances caused an alteration of plans, and 
 so September i8th found me speeding west again in the 
 old CorciUi, bound for St. John's. By a careful study of the 
 habits and movements of the Newfoundland caribou, I had 
 gradually formed a theory that nearly all the great body of 
 the deer which summered in the sanctuary between Round 
 Pond in the centre and Terra-Nova and Glenwood in the 
 east, moved southward about the end of October, with 
 converging trails, and that these roads met somewhere in the 
 neighbourhood of Mount Sylvester, where, Joe Jeddore had 
 informed me, the country became high, rocky, and open. It 
 is well known to the Fortune Bay men that the main body 
 of the deer appear in great numbers in the open country 
 immediately to the north of Fortune Bay about 20th November, 
 by which date all the adult stags are hornless. It was there- 
 fore a fair assumption that if I could find both the breeding 
 parties, as well as see the beginning of the big " trek " as it 
 left the woods and emerged into the open country at some 
 point near Sylvester, I should probably encounter the stags 
 before they had dropped their horns, and in such numbers 
 as travellers seldom see. This was proved to be correct, for, 
 although the season was an unusually late one, I did find 
 the ideal hunting-ground and the stags in all their pride of 
 possession. 
 
 262
 
 TO MT. SYLVESTER WITH THE MICMACS 263 
 
 Having told Joe that I should not come in 1906, he had 
 therefore made other plans to go trapping with his brother 
 Nicholas. Nevertheless, he was good enough to delay his 
 trip for several days, to make sure that I could obtain the 
 services of one Steve Bernard, who alone knew part of the 
 Sylvester country, and another excellent Indian, John Hinx, 
 whose hunting-ground lay to the east in the neighbourhood 
 of the Eastern Maelpeg. These two men were to meet me 
 at the Long Harbor telegraph office on 3rd October. 
 
 Another cogent reason for adopting this route into the 
 interior was that I wished to ascend and map the Long 
 Harbor River, the largest unknown stream in Newfoundland. 
 No white man had ever passed up its waters, so that it held 
 some fascination for me. Mr. Howley, of course, had been to 
 Mount Sylvester, but he had reached it through the Bay de 
 Nord River and its chain of large lakes, and he had not 
 had time to survey the waters or country to the east, or to 
 do more than roughly indicate the position of the Maelpeg, 
 with its sinuous bays and hundred islands. All the district 
 north of Long Harbor telegraph station was practically 
 unknown, except the immediate neighbourhood of the coast, 
 where a few Fortune Bay men go in annually for a short 
 distance to kill deer in the late fall. 
 
 After two days spent in St. John's to collect provisions 
 and canoes from Mr. Blair, I took the train to Placentia, 
 where one finds the Glencoe ready to steam along the southern 
 coast. At the station I met the Premier, Sir Robert Bond, 
 who asked me to sit with him, and we had a chat for three 
 hours until we reached Whitburn, near which place he has a 
 comfortable home, to which he retires from the cares of office 
 every Saturday to Monday. 
 
 Sir Robert Bond is much interested in birds and mammals,
 
 264 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 and has been a hunter in his day. At present he is very 
 anxious to introduce capercailzie and black grouse into the 
 island, and I hope in the near future to send him birds 
 and eggs for the experiment.^ If once they could be started, 
 I feel certain that these splendid game birds would do well 
 in Newfoundland, for both in summer and winter there is an 
 abundance of the foods on which they thrive. The winters, 
 too, are not more severe than those of their native Norway. 
 The Glencoe had been to the bottom of Hermitage Bay 
 since I sailed on her last year, but she seemed none the 
 worse for the ducking, except that the cabin doors would 
 not shut ; and one very proper old lady seemed to be 
 much shocked by the fact that she could see the other 
 passengers dressing. Captain Drake knew every submerged 
 rock on the south coast but one, and that one he unfortunately 
 struck on 6th June, off Ramea, and punctured the bottom of 
 his ship. The sea poured in so quickly that there was 
 nothing left but to beach her, which was done in dense fog. 
 The pumps were kept working, but she settled down. 
 Wrecking apparatus was, however, soon on the spot, when 
 the Glencoe was raised, and reached St. John's on the 17th 
 of the same month, when she was docked and repaired. 
 Much sympathy was expressed for Captain Drake, who 
 spends his life taking risks, and seems to be always on the 
 bridge day and night. No one, in fact, could run a steamer 
 in summer on the south coast in the way he does, so it is a 
 satisfaction to all Newfoundlanders that he retains his position 
 with the complete confidence of the public. 
 
 ' By the time these lines are published the introduction of capercailzie and 
 black grouse to Newfoundland will be an accomplished fact. Forty birds were 
 procured by me in Norway through the agency of Mr. Lindesay, and it is hoped 
 they will reach Newfoundland in safety. The Newfoundland Government, in 
 bearing all the expenses, have shown a proper appreciation of the wants of local 
 sportsmen, and all lovers of nature will wish the experiment success.
 
 TO MT. SYLVESTER WITH THE MICMACS 2G5 
 
 On 30th September we reached Belleoram in Fortune Bay 
 without incident. Belleoram is like all villages of the southern 
 outports, a delightful little sleepy hollow, nestling under stony 
 hills and dense spruce woods. A dreamy doke far niente 
 atmosphere, suffused with the ever-present odour of drying 
 cod, pervades the place, for it is a sort of backwash of civilisa- 
 tion, where the one event is the coming and going of the 
 steamer, and the one topic of conversation the price of fish. 
 The day was Sunday, and the good people, in clothes of 
 funereal black, were trooping into the little wooden church. 
 None, however, stared rudely at the stranger, but with a 
 courteous smile the good folk wished me good morning. 
 They will stop and talk too, with a charming lack of self- 
 consciousness, which is one of the pleasantest traits in the 
 Newfoundland character. 
 
 The evening brought Mr, Ryan, with his little schooner, 
 from Long Harbor, and we sat down for a good talk on the 
 prospects of the expedition. 
 
 Philip Ryan is a somewhat remarkable character. For 
 forty years he has been in the service of the Anglo-American 
 Telegraph Company, and, as his work does not entail any 
 arduous duties, he can spend his time in farming, sport, and 
 in doing a little trade with the Indians. He is one of the only 
 two men whom the Indians trust and have regular dealings 
 with, and his fairness and kindness to these nomadic people 
 have earned for him a reputation which is only shared by 
 Mr. Leslie^ of Bale d'Espoir. It is no slur on his intelligence 
 to say that he invariably gets the worst of a bargain, for he 
 is of that rare kind which does not count success by the 
 acquisition of money, but rather that he may do unto others 
 
 ' Mr. Leslie has now left Newfoundland for good, and has settled in Nova 
 Scotia.
 
 266 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 as he would be done by. If there were more pioneers in our 
 colonies of the stamp of Mr. Leslie and Philip Ryan, we should 
 not hear so much of the treachery of the savage races, nor 
 the quarrels of the native and incoming white man, for the 
 deceit and sharp practice of traders always bring in its train 
 the bottle and the white man's curse. To give an instance 
 of Mr. Ryan's methods, it is enough to say that whenever 
 he is absent from home, the key of his house is left under 
 the door for any wandering Indian to find. The traveller may 
 open and help himself to what he likes, taking flour, sugar, 
 bacon, and tobacco. He lights a fire, stops in the house as 
 long as he likes, and may not be there for another year ; and 
 yet the owner never loses so much as a darning-needle, nor 
 does the Indian fail to render to him an accurate account of 
 the things he has taken, and to pay for them in the skins of 
 foxes and otters. I wonder in how many Hudson Bay stores 
 such a state of things would be possible, and yet the managers 
 of these posts have only themselves to blame for the loss of 
 confidence. 
 
 Ryan's temperament is of the mercurial Irish variety un- 
 dulled by the lapse of years ; he is sixty, and the hard knocks 
 of life, of which he has had more than his full share, have not 
 impaired his joyous disposition. His strength and activity 
 are extraordinary. It was blowing a good breeze. " Here, " 
 he shouted one day, as we were returning to Belleoram, 
 "climb up to the top of that, and we'll hoist the flag of the 
 Cariboo." Steve looked up sadly to the thin and swaying 
 topmast, and mumbled something about not wishing to die 
 just then. "Matty" — to the other Indian — "you're a man; 
 shin up like a good chap." But Matty shook his head and 
 looked sheepish. 
 
 " God bless my soul ! " ejaculated the old fellow, springing
 
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 TO MT. SYLVESTER WITH THE MICMACS 267 
 
 up, " you boys have no grit nowadays." So, throwintr off 
 his sea-boots, he seized the line in his teeth, and clambered 
 up to giddy heights without a stop. 
 
 Long Harbor Office, where Ryan lives, is forty miles from 
 Belleoram, and it took us all day to reach our destination. 
 In darkness we cast anchor beside a little island. A row of 
 half a mile brought us to shore, where two Indians, Micky 
 John and Paddy Hinx, rose to greet us. They told us that 
 Steve Bernard and John Hinx were both on their way, the 
 former from Bay Despair, and the latter from his "tilt" up 
 to the north-east, to meet me ; that I should be able to 
 start in two days, though no two Indians could get up the 
 Long Harbor River. This was rather serious news, as I 
 had hoped to do my trip with two Indians; however, the 
 difficulty was solved by the arrival on the following day of 
 Matty Burke and Johnny Benoit, who agreed to come with 
 me for seven days, and to help Bernard and Hinx with 
 the boats until the worst of the rapids were passed. 
 
 On 2nd October came Steve Bernard, looking considerably 
 the worse for wear, as the result of one of the inevitable 
 "sprees" which preludes such trips into the "country." But 
 the walk of forty-five miles had sobered him, and he was 
 in that frame of mind which brings a chastened spirit and 
 a desire for work, having wasted all his money at the shrine 
 of Bacchus. 
 
 Steve is the sole survivor of eleven children born to 
 old Joe Bernard, late chief of the Newfoundland Micmacs, 
 all of whom have died from the bottle, consumption, or 
 strains, the three principal causes which decimate the red 
 men. He is twenty-eight years old, as strong as a bull, and 
 good-natured to the highest degree. When he was not 
 singing mournful Indian dirges and Gregorian chants, he was
 
 268 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 generally laughing or chaffing John Hinx or the others, and I 
 found him an excellent guide and hunter in his own province. 
 Like all the Indians he loved deer hunting, and soon became 
 proficient with the telescope. His capacity for carrying heavy 
 weights was extraordinary. " I like to take those," he said 
 one day, making a grab at my coat, rifle, telescope and 
 camera, which I had set aside for my own small pack, when 
 crossing a mountain range, and flinging them on the top 
 of his hundred-pound pack, "and when we come to the 
 brook, you climb on top, sir." This I did by way of experi- 
 ment, and the great weight seemed to trouble him as little 
 as a fifty-pound pack would harass a white man. In the 
 rivers he was not the equal of Jeddore, Matty Burke, 
 or John Hinx, but the Indian nature is nothing if not 
 acquisitive, for in a few days he worked his pole with 
 considerable skill and untiring patience. 
 
 I spent the remainder of the day in placing my provisions 
 in linen bags, and making all ready for a rough and watery 
 trip, and on the morning of 3rd October, accompanied by 
 Steve Bernard, Matty Burke, and Johnny Benoit, we made 
 a start up the river. 
 
 Matty Burke is a half-bred Frenchman of about thirty- 
 three. In the river he was invaluable, and very skilful with 
 the pole. Ashore he was a splendid camp man, being a 
 good cook and excellent woodman, as all the Indians are. 
 In appearance he was a picturesque ruffian of the old coureur- 
 de-bois type, and would have made an excellent stage villain 
 at the Adelphi. At first he seemed to be of a somewhat 
 suspicious nature, and was always watching me out of the 
 corners of his eyes, but this soon wore off, and he became 
 the gayest of the party when his buoyant Gallic nature 
 asserted itself.
 
 TO MT. SYLVESTER WITH THE MICMACS 269 
 
 " Those very bad men, them St. Pierre policemen," said 
 Matty suddenly, one evening, and evidently expecting me 
 to acquiesce, for the stage villain's eyes flashed, and he was 
 burning under the injustice of some fancied wrong. 
 
 "What did they do to you?" 
 
 "Enough — for I would kill them all could I do so. 
 They are bad men, and take me to prison when I made 
 not the row. Las' summer I go in a brig to St. Pierre, and 
 one night in the cafe we had good times — about thirty of 
 us — English, French, American, and Newfun'lan' fishermen. 
 I was drunk — yes — very drunk — yet I commence not the 
 row. Bimeby a feller pull out his knife, so I go for the 
 door, and tumble on the wooden steps. As I come out a 
 policeman come in, and we fall together into the street. 
 Then the devil he grab me, and say I must go to the prison 
 house with him, which I not like, and so resist him much. 
 He take me by the arm, so I hit him with all my strength 
 between the eyes, and he drop like a shot stag. Just then 
 I try to run, but my legs are no use, when four more police- 
 men come up and put iron things on my hands ; but I fight 
 hard and bite two of them all over, so that we are all 
 covered with blood. Then they are too strong for me, and 
 they put me in a cold stone house where I cannot get out, 
 though I tried hard. In the morning I say to the man that 
 lock the door, ' I give you four dollars if you let me out,' 
 but he only laugh and say I must see de magistrate. Dat 
 feller makes me pay ten dollars, all I had. The cunning 
 rascal, he puts it in his pocket to get drunk with no doubt. 
 It was all too bad. I done nothing, and not commence the 
 row." Simple Matty, he could not understand that getting 
 blind drunk and half-killing a gendarme was not the best 
 way to behave in a foreign port.
 
 270 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 "You should a got jailed in Harbour Breton,"^ remarked 
 Steve, with a sly twinkle in his eye. "That's the place to 
 enjoy yourself. Nicholas Jeddore he got put in prison there 
 — two falls ago — for setting de woods afire. He said he's 
 never had so many Christmas dinners afore, an' all the 
 people were wonderful kind. All day he could go about 
 wherever he liked, and used to fish and make little canoes 
 for de children. An' at night all he had to do was to go 
 and report himself, and sleep in the most comfortable bed 
 he'd ever seen. He was quite sorry to go home, and said 
 next time things were rough he's goin' to ask to be took 
 back." 
 
 Johnny Benoit was of quite a different type, a visionary 
 boy of eighteen, with great, big, dreamy black eyes. He 
 had the sort of expression that sees " God in clouds, and 
 hears Him in the wind." He was very good-looking, but 
 did not like work, partly because one of his arms was half 
 paralysed through rolling logs when he was too young, and 
 partly because he had fallen over a precipice two years 
 previously and been half-killed. But he was a nice, amiable 
 creature, and with his dislike for labour, quaint thoughts, 
 and sweet far-away expression, would have made a successful 
 minor poet at home. 
 
 The first few miles of the river were easy, so I worked 
 in the big canoe, and we made good progress with our poles. 
 Towards evening, however, the stream became shallow and 
 rocky, and we had a taste of what the Long Harbor River 
 was like — endless falls, boiling runs, and sudden "drops" where 
 lifts were necessary. At sunset we reached a very bad place 
 above a birchy island, where a portage of everything for half 
 a mile landed us on a high shelf of rocks, where we made 
 
 ' The Government prison on the south coast.
 
 Nkwfounuland jMICMACS 
 
 Huw TO Carry a Head to Camp
 
 TO MX. SYLVESTER WITH THE MICMACS 271 
 
 camp for the night. As we sat at supper a shout in the 
 woods announced the advent of Johnny Hinx, who arrived 
 tired and cheerful after a thirty-five mile walk from his " tilt." 
 
 John Hinx, a typical half-breed of an English father and 
 Indian mother, is one of the most experienced men in the 
 island. He has been all over the south and central portions, 
 and has made his living by trapping and log-cutting since 
 he was ten years of age, and is now fifty, though in appear- 
 ance he might have passed for thirty-five. He became my 
 cook and camp man, but was, nevertheless, an excellent 
 hunter, and always accompanied Steve and me on our tramps 
 after deer, when his sharp eyes were sometimes responsible 
 for some outlying stag which we had overlooked. He pos- 
 sessed a great knowledge of the deer and their movements, 
 and what he did not know of otters and otter-trapping was 
 not of much account. He was tall and good-looking, spoke 
 broken English, and, being fearful of being misunderstood, 
 was at first somewhat reticent, but as time wore on he would 
 chatter as freely as Steve, and entertain us with tales of 
 flood and forest that always had some interesting point. 
 One night he told me a story that was in itself an object- 
 lesson, as illustrating the reasons why the red man hates and 
 distrusts the white. 
 
 When John Hinx was eighteen he was the sole support 
 of a widowed mother and a sister in Baie d'Espoir, so he 
 hired himself to the boss of a mill in Gambo for a year at 
 twenty dollars a month. In the spring he cut logs, in summer 
 he cooked daily for a large camp of thirty men, and in the 
 fall he shot deer and carried them on his back to camp. 
 The year went by, and he demanded his money, wishing to 
 return home, but after promises of increased wages he was 
 induced to stop another nine months, and to work harder
 
 272 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 than ever ; always, too, with the thought of how pleased his 
 mother would be when she saw her son again with plenty 
 of money in his pocket. At last the time came when he 
 would stay no longer, so he demanded his wages, and pre- 
 pared to travel. What was his consternation when the mill 
 manager said he was quite unable to pay him a cent, and 
 that he must wait until better times. The excuse given was 
 that two cargoes of lumber had been lost in transit to St. 
 John's (these Hinx ascertained afterwards had safely reached 
 St. John's, and been sold at a good price). Weary, dis- 
 pirited, and without food or money, the poor Indian set out 
 in the dead of winter to cross the island, from Gambo to 
 Conn River, nine days' hard walking. The snow fell un- 
 ceasingly, the deer were all away to the south, and with 
 ragged clothes, and madness in his brain, he tramped the 
 long trail like some hungry wolf ranging the winter forests. 
 More dead than alive he reached his mother's home at last. 
 Thirty years have gone by since those days, but the bitter- 
 ness of it all still remained in the Indian trapper's heart, and 
 I should not like to be that cheat of the Gambo mill if John 
 Hinx were to meet him alone in the woods one day. It is 
 possible that the account might be settled. 
 
 The night of 3rd October was the coldest I have 
 experienced in the island. Fifteen degrees of frost were 
 registered, and everything — eggs, butter, &c. — was frozen 
 solid ; but on the following morning a bright sun, playing 
 on the jewelled leaves and grasses, caused a thaw, and the 
 Indians were able to make fair headway in the worst river I 
 have seen in Newfoundland. It is a very bad stream, where 
 Indians have to get overboard and haul the canoe by main 
 force through the cold water, but this they had to do the 
 whole of 4th October, and the three following days. Yet
 
 TO MT. SYLVESTER WITH THE MICMACS 273 
 
 with wonderful patience and good nature they worried on at 
 their task, whilst Johnny Benoit, who was little use in the 
 river, and I marched ahead over the bare open hills of sand 
 and stone, and looked for mythical willow grouse. The 
 Indians were dying for fresh meat, and I did my best to find 
 game of some sort, and the only luck I achieved was on 
 5th October, when I encountered a covey of six grouse, all 
 of which I killed by blowing their heads off with bullets from 
 the Mannlicher. Fortunately they were very tame, and only 
 flew a short distance after I had killed the first two, when 
 the remainder sat on a rock and stared within ten yards 
 before meeting their fate. 
 
 Until recently the willow grouse {Lagopus terra-novce) 
 was very abundant in Newfoundland, and his cheery call, so 
 like that of our own grouse, could be heard at all seasons 
 in the barrens near the coast. In October the sportsmen of 
 St. John's are accustomed to go for a few days' shooting to 
 the barrens about Placentia, St. Mary's Bay — in fact, to all the 
 accessible parts of the south coast — and to hunt in company 
 with some local guide and a brace or two of pointers and 
 setters. Until 1903 excellent sport was to be had, as many 
 as twenty and even thirty brace being killed in a day ; but of 
 recent years a great diminution has taken place amongst the 
 birds, for now eight to ten brace would be considered a good 
 bag in the best places. Many reasons have been assigned 
 for this depreciation in the stock, but none of them seem to 
 explain matters satisfactorily. In fact, everything is in favour 
 of the grouse, since predatory animals, their chief foes, are 
 becoming very scarce, and no one molests the birds during 
 the breeding season. Over-shooting will not give the correct 
 answer, because the grouse are now just as sparsely distri- 
 buted through the immense tracts of unshot ground, where
 
 274 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 formerly they were exceedingly abundant, as in the places 
 where the gunners go. Mr. Leslie^ attributes the scarcity of 
 grouse in the interior to forest fires, and has several times 
 seen coveys overwhelmed and stupefied by the smoke. Cer- 
 tainly in the course of my travels in the central parts of the 
 island, I have seen but two coveys of grouse and one covey 
 of the rare Newfoundland ptarmigan {Lagopus Leachii). Only 
 in the barrens between the upper parts of the Long Harbor 
 and Mount Sylvester have I seen a fair stock of grouse. I 
 think that a series of cold and wet summers following in 
 succession have had much to do with the inadequate supply 
 of birds. 
 
 The habits of the Newfoundland willow grouse are iden- 
 tical with the Dal Ripa of Norway, which are too well known 
 to need any description. These western birds are, however, 
 much tamer, but are similar in their migratory habits, or, 
 it would be more correct to say, local movements. At 
 times they fly in large bodies from one district to another, 
 and often visit the outer islands on the east coast, some far 
 from land, such as the Groais Islands. 
 
 The Newfoundland ptarmigan [Lagopus Leachii) is now 
 becoming a somewhat scarce and local species. It exists in 
 most of the mountains near the coast in Hermitage Bay, on 
 the Iron Skull in Fortune Bay, and in the Long Range 
 Mountains and hills between Victoria and Red Indian Lakes. 
 It is slightly smaller than the European species, but its habits 
 are similar. 
 
 On this day the river became so impossible just above a 
 large waterfall, that we had to resort to a portage of one 
 
 ' Mr. Leslie has seen caribou in winter digging out the moss, and followed by a 
 crowd of willow grouse. As soon as the deer vacated the holes the birds dived in to 
 get at the partridge-berries.
 
 
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 TO MT. SYLVESTER WITH THE MICMACS 275 
 
 and a half miles to clear the worst of the rocks. In conse- 
 quence, our progress was very slow — sometimes not more 
 than four or five miles per diem were made. 
 
 On the upper part of the Long Harbor River I noticed 
 considerable quantities of a coarse native wild hay, of such 
 a quality, too, that ponies would thrive upon it during the 
 summer months. On the Gander it is found in abundance 
 for the first twenty miles, but disappears immediately above 
 " Rolling Falls," where the country becomes more high and 
 exposed. It is also found in quantities in the Gould Valley 
 (Conception Bay), and about Colinet (St. Mary's Bay), whilst 
 the people of the west coast bring down boat-loads every 
 autumn from Codroy, Fischel's, Robinson's, St, George's, and 
 the Humber Rivers. I have seen a few horses on the Gander 
 in very good condition through living on this native hay, and 
 there is no reason why pony-raising should not be a profit- 
 able industry amongst the people of the south and west 
 coast, if they would only import and breed the right kind of 
 pony. A few of these animals are bred on the west coast — 
 poor weedy beasts, which are destined to transportation for 
 life in the Cape Breton coal mines, and all they are fitted 
 for. But a better class of horse is needed, one something of 
 the rough nature of the Welsh pony or the Norwegian 
 carriole pony, which could live hard, stand snow and bad 
 times, possess some pace, and pick up quickly in the spring 
 and summer on native grass and plants. 
 
 The prospect of a better river in a day or two soon put 
 us in good spirits. The worst was over, said John, and we 
 should only encounter two more days of rough water before 
 finding " steadies " and the inevitable chain of lakes which 
 intersect the summit of the plateaux. All night long the 
 Indians sat up in their stuffy little "tilt," alternately eating,
 
 276 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 stitching fresh moccasins, and chattering in their melHfluous 
 dialect. Sometimes they slept an hour or two, and then rose 
 again to replenish the fires and roast bits of grouse. The 
 next day, however, heralded in a deluge, with equinoctial gales 
 which lasted all day. I went out for several miles on to a 
 high stony country, and found deer plentiful, seeing two old 
 stags and fifty-four does. We crossed the river twice, which 
 took Steve to his waist as he ferried me over, and returned 
 in the evening soaked to the skin by the drenching rain. 
 
 The next day was fine, so we started for the north again, 
 encountering numerous rapids and small waterfalls, but in the 
 evening some welcome "steadies" appeared, and we paddled 
 up these until we reached the first of the chain of little lakes 
 known to the Indians as "Podopsk." October loth saw the 
 last of our struggles with the river, when at midday we 
 arrived at a fine lake which has no title, and which I have 
 named " Lake Prowse," after the Judge. It is a fair-sized 
 sheet of water, about two and a half miles long, in the shape 
 of an equilateral triangle. The left bank is clothed in heavy 
 woods, almost the first we had seen since leaving Long 
 Harbor, and a single large island, a mile long, exists on the 
 east side. Fortunately, there was only a gentle breeze at our 
 backs, so we made good time over the open waters, and, after 
 hauling up over heavy rapids at the north end, finished our 
 canoe journey for a time. Here Matty Burke and Johnny 
 Benoit left us for their trapping-grounds in the neighbour- 
 hood of the "Tolt" Mountain, about thirty miles to the 
 south-east. They promised to help us down the river at the 
 beginning of November. 
 
 My plan was now to " cache " the greater part of my 
 provisions under the two canoes, and to carry as much as 
 possible away to the west over the range known to the
 
 TO MT. SYLVESTER WITH THE MICMACS 277 
 
 Indians as the Kesoquit Hills, and to make my outside camps 
 in a droke of woods amongst these mountains, and another 
 still farther to the west in another droke on Shoe Hill 
 Ridge, in the centre of Steve's trapping-ground. Steve had 
 told me that the latter position commanded wide views for 
 miles, which embraced an area to the north from Maelpeg 
 to Mount Sylvester, and along which the main body of 
 travelling deer came every fall. Both these camps would 
 also be central for making expeditions into the unknown 
 territory to the north-east and west.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 OPEN-GROUND HUNTING ON THE SHOE HILL AND 
 KESOQUIT RIDGES 
 
 The whole character of the country from Fortune Bay to 
 Mount Sylvester is different from that of any other part of 
 the island which I have seen, except the immediate neigh- 
 bourhood of Partridgeberry Hill, in Central Newfoundland. 
 The landscape is open, with rolling hills stretching away to 
 the distant horizon. Here and there are little rocky eminences, 
 locally designated as " knaps," from which miles of country 
 may be easily spied. Marshes are few and small, and the 
 whole ground is covered with reindeer moss, with a few 
 blueberry patches. Sometimes one sees a sprinkling of 
 scattered larches from seven to ten feet high, whilst tiny 
 spruce forests, of some dwarf variety which never exceeds 
 three and a half feet in height, cover many of the summits 
 of the ridges. At a distance these little spruce woods look 
 like grass or moss, and they are of such small stature that 
 a passage between them looks easy ; but if you are so un- 
 fortunate as to find your way into their midst, nothing remains 
 but retreat, or a short cut to the nearest hard ground, for the 
 deceptive bush is a mass of interlaced boughs of great strength, 
 which makes progression extremely arduous, and at times 
 impossible. No Indian walks through "tufts," as these dwarf 
 forests are called, unless he is forced to do so, and the 
 employment of Steve, who knows every deer and rabbit 
 path in Shoe Hill and Kesoquit, was the means of avoiding 
 
 much arduous labour. 
 
 278
 
 M. 
 
 -^?^' ^ _I-<J'>-- 
 
 The Miduay Sleep on the Lake Edge 
 
 During the Rut the Herd Stag remains for many hours each day 
 in this curious attitude
 
 OPEN-GROUND HUNTING 279 
 
 On the whole, the walking in this district was the best I 
 have ever seen in any country where big game are to be 
 found. During three weeks' hunting I never had wet feet, 
 although only shod in ordinary shooting boots. Nor did I 
 ever feel tired, although we had some long days and pro- 
 tracted runs to cut off travelling stags. 
 
 After an excellent dinner, and having deposited all our 
 spare stores under the canoes, the Indians shouldered two 
 huge packs of about lOO lbs. each, and we started up the 
 Kesoquit Hills. The summit of the range was about 400 
 feet above the river, and from this point we obtained a 
 splendid view in all directions except the north. The Tolt 
 and the three hills above Long Harbor were plainly visible, 
 and on this day, one of exceptional brightness, the rugged 
 headland above Belleoram, known as the Iron Skull, was 
 plainly visible. As we " took a spell " I worked the glass for 
 some time, and only found a few small deer. The absence 
 of stags was explained by Steve by the fact that the ground 
 was too full of "tufts," which deer dislike as much as man. 
 
 Then came a walk over an ideal hunting-ground of great 
 rolling corries, intersected by little lakes and marshes, which 
 brought us to the only wood in the district south of the 
 Maelpeg. It is known as Kesoquit " droke." Here for many 
 years has been the hunting quarters of the Johns,^ although 
 it is now abandoned by them, and only the rough log "tilt" 
 being used as a rest-house by Steve Bernard and Micky John 
 on their travels to and fro. The place was a perfect one for 
 a camp, as the wood was full of dry sticks, and there was 
 a small lake at one side. Here one only had to run a 
 few yards to the west where a fine view of one of the 
 
 ' The Johns are an old family of Mountaineer Indians which came originally 
 from Labrador.
 
 280 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 best valleys for deer in Newfoundland spreads itself out 
 for miles. 
 
 Along these valleys and hills deer were constantly passing, 
 and during the rutting season a company or two were gene- 
 rally in view at any time of day from our look-out. Close to 
 the camp was the greater part of a doe which Micky John 
 had killed in the previous week, so I spent the next day in 
 walking to the Great Maelpeg Lake, and following the course 
 of two other unnamed lakes, which connect this large sheet 
 of water with Prowse's Lake, and doing some mapping. We 
 saw several stags, with herds of does numbering from five to 
 twelve individuals, and they were all very tame and unsophis- 
 ticated, as the wind was strong. In the evening it commenced 
 to rain in the usual Newfoundland fashion, and we were glad 
 to spread my waterproof sheet over the leaky "tilt" and so 
 make things snug. For three days abominable weather, 
 accompanied by damp fog, continued, so there was nothing 
 to do but sit at home and wait for the weather to improve. 
 On the 15th it cleared up, and we received a visit from Micky 
 John and a little boy of nine — his nephew, named Steve 
 John — who were on their way to Sambadesta (St. John's 
 Lake), where they meant to spend the fall trapping " wood- 
 cats " (martens). Between them they had a broken gun, 
 no tent-sheet, and about enough provisions to last, with a 
 stretch, a fortnight. They arrived soaked to the skin, but 
 in nowise discouraged, for the disposition of these nomads 
 is nothing if not hopeful, and they would talk of no other 
 subject but the pile of skins they hoped to gather. With 
 them came Johnny Hinx, my John's youngest son, a boy of 
 eighteen, a splendidly set-up young fellow, happy in the posses- 
 sion of two hungry-looking dogs and a gun as long as himself. 
 
 We all broke camp on the morning of the i6th, each
 
 OPEN-GROUND HUNTING 281 
 
 party going in a different direction. For three hours we held 
 due west over the top of the Shoe Hill Range, finally dropping 
 down to a snug droke where I intended to make my main 
 hunting camp. The day was very fine, and I saw two very 
 large stags, with poor heads, and again in the evening two 
 more, each with his band of does. All these I approached 
 and examined at close range to observe their movements for 
 some time. Nearly every company had a " watch " doe, 
 which did not feed, but kept gazing in different directions all 
 the time. The big stag at this season takes little notice of 
 man even if he sees him, and if you grunt at him, he will come 
 running in your direction to answer your challenge, but he 
 invariably stops at some distance, as if loath to leave his wives, 
 towards whom he frequently glances, whereas an "unattached" 
 stag — that is, one travelling and on the look-out for fresh does 
 — will not only answer your call, but will come right up to 
 within a few yards of your position. I proved this many 
 times during this fall, and was so successful in "tolling" two 
 of these travelling stags, that I had to heave rocks at them 
 to keep them off. 
 
 Immediately the leading doe gives the signal of alarm, 
 the stag is the first to appreciate its true import. The does 
 are full of curiosity, and wish to stop and gaze at the strange 
 individual ; but the stag knows only too well what the danger 
 is, so he bends his neck, rounds up his harem, and rattles them 
 off at full gallop whether they wish it or not. During these 
 preliminary evolutions the young stag, which usually hangs 
 on the outskirts of every troop, tries to do a little love-making 
 on his own account by running away with some of the fair 
 ones. The speed and activity of the master-stag are then 
 worth seeing. He rushes madly at the rash youngster, who 
 is always just too quick for him, and so they race over the
 
 282 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 hills in a ding-dong chase, until the big fellow finds he has 
 achieved a moral victory. 
 
 The country to the west, known as Shoe Hill, forms itself 
 into a great basin, in the centre of which was a lake, which 
 I have named Shoe Hill Lake. On all sides of this piece 
 of water the ground, which is quite open and stony, like 
 Norwegian reindeer country, rises to several hundred feet, 
 except to the west, where the land falls abruptly to the big 
 lake, known in Howley's map as " Jubilee " Lake, and to the 
 Indians as " Sandy Pond." Seated on the ridge, about one 
 mile to the west of Shoe Hill droke, we could survey the 
 whole of this vast amphitheatre, and during the next few days 
 I found there many a fine stag with his attendant wives. By 
 watching from various points with the telescope, I could pick 
 up three stags to one that the Indians could see, even with 
 their sharp eyes, so that Steve acknowledged the superiority 
 of the glass and was industrious in learning its use. I found 
 that on sitting down to spy, far the best plan was to survey 
 the whole of the lake edges and then to take every small 
 marsh in turn in the vicinity of the water. The reasons for 
 the deer halting and resting at midday on the shores is ex- 
 plained by the fact that they travel all night from some distant 
 point and are stopped by any large sheet of water, which they 
 do not like to cross at night. At dawn the does begin feeding 
 on the moss, and as the sun warms all things, they lie down 
 and rest for several hours, or stand motionless with drooping 
 ears. In spite of their size, it is not always easy to detect 
 them, so well do their brown coats harmonise with stones. 
 Often a herd remains in the same spot for several days if 
 undisturbed. 
 
 It was some days before I found a stag with a fine head. 
 I was watching a restless old fellow trying to move his
 
 John Hinx and a large Thirty-five Pointer
 
 OPEN-GROUND HUNTING 283 
 
 harem from the lake edge, a proceeding they seemed to resent, 
 being both warm and comfortable. But a four-year-old had 
 just gone by and had made the master jealous and uneasy, 
 so he went gently poking one fair lady after another with his 
 long, spindly horns, and as fast as he got one up and moved 
 to another, the disturbed one treated him to a look of contempt 
 and lay down again. He gave it up at last, and scratched 
 his head with his hind foot as much as to say, " It's no use 
 arguing with the women." 
 
 "I tink those haliboo" (deer), said John, pointing his 
 finger towards a lot of white spots that looked like stones 
 two miles away on the ridge above Sandy Pond. The glass 
 was upon them, and proved that the Indian was right. Fifteen 
 does all asleep, and one great stag, with massive horns, lying 
 in the middle. 
 
 It was just like a stalk in Scotland. We ascended the hill, 
 and again took a look at the herd. The stag alone was awake 
 now, and, with his head up, was looking about in an uneasy 
 manner. What a noble fellow, and certainly the largest 
 framed head I had yet seen. If only both his brows were 
 as good as the one great shovel I saw on the left horn, 
 he must be everything a hunter could desire. But alas, 
 as he turned to me I saw the common hook that did 
 duty for the left brow, and knew he was deficient in one 
 respect. 
 
 However, the head was a great massive one, and I meant 
 to kill him if possible, so we hurried on to get nearer in case 
 the wind should drop. When within 600 yards of the ridge 
 on which the deer lay, we encountered one of those awful 
 little forests of tufts, through which it was absolutely necessary 
 to force one's way, unless we were prepared for a mile circuit. 
 It was only about 300 yards broad, but held us in its octopus
 
 284 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 arms every yard of the way till we arrived breathless and 
 bathed in perspiration on the other side. After this we took 
 a short spell to get cool, and then, again circling round more 
 isolated patches of spruce, we decided that the deer were 
 now up-wind and immediately below us. So down we went, 
 keeping a sharp look-out. 
 
 Being in front, I soon detected the horns of the stag as 
 he moved along, keeping the does together. They were all 
 passing slowly to the west, most of the does feeding, and 
 would cross our front about 150 yards to the left. Being 
 on the sky-line it was now necessary for us to crawl some 
 distance without being seen, when we found that the only 
 cover consisted of a belt of spruce fully three feet high, 
 over which the shot must be taken. Slowly the does, led 
 by an old, hornless female, came walking up the hill, stopping 
 at intervals to crop the moss and gaze about, and after what 
 seemed an age, the great stag, with lowered head, came 
 "nosing" along on their tracks. I raised myself to look over 
 the spruce, when one of the does saw me, and began moving 
 about with bristling stern, a sure sign of danger. The others 
 at once took the hint and gave a preliminary rush. On 
 standing again, the stag was completely surrounded by does at 
 a distance of 100 yards, so I could not shoot until the whole 
 company were again on the move. It was not long before 
 they strung out prior to leaving for good, when I fired from 
 the shoulder, standing up, and struck the stag high in the 
 neck, but without breaking it. He shook his head and spun 
 round once or twice, and then dashed off after the retreating 
 herd. For one moment he gave me a broadside, when I 
 fired again and dropped him stone dead, with a bullet at the 
 side of the skull. The horns of this stag were better than 
 I had at first supposed them to be. They were as massive
 
 OPEN-GROUND HUNTING 285 
 
 as any that can be found in the island, and the whole head 
 would have been an extraordinary one but for the hooky point 
 that did duty for the right brow. 
 
 After taking off the head, we rested and had dinner in the 
 rain above Walnanikiak (Jubilee Lake), where Steve had his 
 trapping tilt, and then, moving eastward, it cleared up, and 
 Steve made a splendid spy, fully two and a half miles away, of 
 a big herd of deer, with two large stags. Although we had 
 been marching since daybreak, none of us were tired, so we 
 at once set off over ground full of rocks and moss towards 
 the lake of Keskitpegawi, where Steve had seen the game. 
 If you want to be successful in Newfoundland, or anywhere 
 else for that matter, you must not mind walking, even if it 
 often leads to no result. In this case the stags were both 
 old beasts with poor horns ; one of them had broken his 
 right antler in the centre of the beam, and was the first of 
 nine stags which I afterwards saw similarly disfigured. In 
 Scotland adult red stags only fight occasionally, whereas the 
 reindeer males all fight whenever the opportunity occurs, 
 and their horns being more brittle than those of red deer, 
 wapiti, or moose, they are often devoid of points or pieces 
 of the horns at the end of the rutting season. Nearly every 
 adult stag had a point or two knocked off by the end of 
 October, and one stag that I observed on 3rd November had 
 both horns broken off close to the burr. 
 
 After remaining for some days at Shoe Hill, we decided 
 to go on a three days' tramp to Mount Sylvester, to ascend 
 the mountain and to hunt for fresh ground. The Indians 
 were quite as interested at the prospect of visiting Sylvester 
 as myself, as neither of them had been there, and both 
 regarded the hill with a certain superstitious veneration. 
 It is a saying amongst them that he who visits Sylvester
 
 286 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 for the first time^ and leaves a present there, in the Httle 
 black cave near the top, will obtain his desire — whatever 
 it may be. In this dark retreat dwells the spirit of the 
 mountain, who takes no heed of rich or poor, and receives 
 with favour the gift, however trifling, provided it is given 
 with reverence. As the visitors to Sylvester, red or white, 
 number about half a dozen, the fortunate people in New- 
 foundland are reduced to a negligible quantity. However, 
 the superstition is firmly imprinted in the Indian mind, and 
 they would resent as an affront the attitude of any one who 
 doubted the efficacy of the spirit's power." 
 
 The distance to the mountain from our camp was about 
 seven miles, and as it was a bright warm day with a fresh 
 breeze from the west, the Indians made light of their heavy 
 packs, and stepped along as fast as I cared to walk. Three 
 miles to the north we skirted the lake of Keskitpegawi, 
 where we passed two fine herds of caribou resting on the 
 lake edge, and, continuing our journey, were about to take 
 dinner on the bridge of land that separates this lake from 
 Tamnapegawi, when I saw a big stag standing up on a 
 knoll close to the last-named sheet of water. Leaving 
 John Hinx to light a fire and prepare dinner, Steve and 
 I made a wide circuit of half a mile and then dropped down 
 a gentle slope covered with small spruce to within 300 yards 
 of the herd. Here I had a good look at the stag's head, 
 which, though not large, seemed well furnished with points. 
 After a long survey I decided to let him go, so sent Steve 
 to move the deer, whilst I ensconced myself in an angle of 
 the lake along which I felt certain the stag must pass. 
 
 1 Subsequent visits and presents are said to be of no use. 
 
 ^ As far as I could ascertain, Mount Sylvester is the only place in Newfoundland 
 about which the Micmacs have any superstitions.
 
 I CALLED THIS StAG TO WITHIN TEN YARDS OK THE CAMERA 
 
 The Love Chase
 
 OPEN-GROUND HUNTING 287 
 
 Thus I hoped to obtain a good photograph, as both the 
 light and the wind were favourable. I had hardly got 
 into position when the does got up and raced past me, and 
 then, seeing the stag about to follow, I saw his horns facing 
 me for the first time. As he came on he looked better 
 and better, so at last I put down the camera and picked 
 up the rifle, not a moment too soon, when I killed him 
 with a shot as he went by. He proved to be a good thirty- 
 nine pointer, with thick, though somewhat short horns. 
 
 After dinner we entered a different country to the bare 
 stony ridges of Shoe Hill. Now it was all rolling hills, 
 with small forests on either flank, and numerous little ponds 
 and marshes, perfect early autumn deer ground. By-and- 
 by I saw a big stag chasing two or three does out of one 
 of these woods, and by a judicious cross cut caught him 
 with the camera at twenty yards as he pursued his restless 
 wives. 
 
 This stalking with a camera is great fun. You have 
 many failures, and a few successes, whilst the best chance 
 always occurs on a rainy day or when the camera has been 
 left in camp. One evening, about a fortnight after this, 
 I saw a small calf on a stony ridge above a lake. As it 
 kept looking back into a deep hollow, I knew the mother 
 and probably others were there. It was blowing hard, so 
 Steve and I got within five yards of the calf just as it threw 
 up its tail and dashed off down-wind. Now, the mother 
 and a great heavy stag who was her companion had just 
 caught a glimpse of the white flag when it was raised, 
 and so started to pursue the path followed by the calf. 
 Steve and I lay behind a large boulder directly in their path, 
 so that the pair actually passed our station at a distance of 
 three yards — a unique opportunity for a picture which could
 
 288 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 not be taken. As it was, I threw my hat on to the stag's 
 back, where it rested a moment, to his complete conster- 
 nation. Sometimes I "tolled" travelling stags, and photo- 
 graphed them within a short distance ; but most of these 
 were failures, as they were generally taken in the early 
 morning. However, I got one or two successes, as well 
 as taking a fine stag within a few yards as he lay asleep. 
 If you have patience, are a skilled stalker, and are favoured 
 by a strong wind, you can do what you like with the stag, 
 provided he is alotie} 
 
 We were now within two miles of Sylvester, and had 
 ascended a wooded hill and looked over when a lovely 
 scene burst upon our view. A deep valley, crowned with 
 heavy timber on each side, lay before us. At the base was 
 a huge marsh two miles in length, whilst beyond it, Sylvester, 
 in all its beauty, sprang directly out of the earth in one 
 great cone. The lower slopes were densely wooded, but 
 within 300 feet of the summit it was quite bare, and pre- 
 cipitous on the south side. The sun was setting and flooded 
 the whole landscape with gold, disclosing three large com- 
 panies of caribou, each governed by a master-stag. It was 
 a scene that I shall always remember ; one that the hunter 
 sees in his dreams but seldom experiences, and which will 
 live in the memory when my hunting days are past. 
 
 Our prayers for a calm day to ascend Sylvester were 
 answered, and we were up before daybreak, on one of the 
 finest days I can remember. There was just a touch of 
 
 ' Speaking of the extraordinary tameness of single deer when carefully 
 approached, Cormack says (p. 32) : "A single deer on the plain, when there are no 
 others near to sound the alarm, may be approached and knocked down by a blow 
 on the head with an axe or tomahawk from a dexterous hunter. We happened to 
 see a solitary stag amusing himself by rubbing his antlers against a larch-tree on a 
 plain ; my Indian, treading lightly, approached him from behind, and struck him on 
 the head with his axe, but did not knock him down ; he of course galloped off."
 
 a. 
 
 a
 
 OPEN-GROUND HUNTING 289 
 
 frost, and as the sun rose I was out on a point of rock 
 surveying the herds of deer far below our camp, and watch- 
 ing the golden light steal up the green and slate slopes of 
 the mountain. We made an early start, as it was two miles 
 to the base of the mountain. Whilst travelling I had already 
 spied and rejected the three master-stags we had seen the 
 night before. Whilst crossing the great marsh I saw two 
 stags fighting on the side of Sylvester, but they retired 
 into the wood, and we lost sight of them. 
 
 Near the north end of the marsh, and just at the base 
 of the mountain, were situated the most remarkable deer 
 trails I have seen in Newfoundland. These roads all 
 debouched from one main road as wide and deep as a 
 Devonshire lane. This path, we found, came right over 
 the eastern shoulder of Mount Sylvester, and was the main 
 "fall" trail which is trodden by tens of thousands of hurry- 
 ing feet every November. W. Cormack, who was the first 
 man to discover Sylvester, which he named after his faith- 
 ful Indian follower, bore testimony to the abundance of 
 deer trails at this point, and doubtless there is little altera- 
 tion since the days when he wrote (1822). The path led 
 upwards over the mountain for several hundred feet, and 
 then branched to the left, where the side of the hill was 
 cut into shallow chasms about 30 feet deep, in which grew 
 spruces and vars. The ascent now became steep, and for 
 the last 400 feet the mountain was bare, or covered with 
 small Alpine flora. Near the top we visited the little black 
 cave where the "spirit" of the mountain dwelt, and each 
 of us deposited our offering in the shape of coins and 
 cartridges. 
 
 Steve's wish was grossly material, and went no farther 
 than a suit of new clothes ; I naturally desired a fifty-pointer ;
 
 290 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 whilst John was distinctly romantic, and went as far as to 
 hope for a new wife on whom he had already fixed his 
 affections somewhere down in Bale d'Espoir. Steve's wish 
 was realised, and mine too, in a measure, for the kindly 
 ghost, although he did not actually produce a fifty-pointer, 
 gave me what was probably the best head in Central New- 
 foundland, whilst from the last accounts I heard of John, he 
 was making the running at such a terrific pace that no girl, 
 however fastidious, was likely to withstand him. 
 
 The view from the top of this beautiful mountain is one 
 of the best in Newfoundland. It was a clear day, and we 
 could see nearly seventy miles in every direction. It seems 
 as if a line had been drawn across the island, clearly cutting 
 off all the forest and marsh country to the north and west 
 from the bare and open stony hills of the south. To the 
 north and north-west was the long line of the Middle Ridge 
 clothed in a great sea of dense woods which stretch without 
 a break from Burnt Hill on the Gander to Glenwood, Terra- 
 Nova, and Cloete Sound to the east. Here and there dark 
 patches of the highest woods crop up round St. John's Lake and 
 N'Moochwaygodie (Bond's Lake), a large pond about five miles 
 to the west of St. John's Lake, and the last unvisited and 
 unmapped lake of any size in Eastern Newfoundland. About 
 fifteen miles to the north-east are two ranges of low hills, known 
 to the Indians as Smooth Ridge and Burnt Hills, and leading 
 up to these and connected also with Kagudeck is a brook 
 which passes through three small lakes which I have named 
 Steve Bernard's, John Hinx's, and John Stride's Ponds, the 
 last-named being the hunting-ground of the trapper of that 
 name. Due east, in the open country, is the large lake 
 known to the Indians as the (Eastern) Maelpeg (the lake of 
 many indentations). It has never been properly surveyed.
 
 Dawn — A Successful Snap-shot at 6 a.m., October 30, 1906 
 
 .A (;ooi) Hkad
 
 OPEN-GROUND HUNTING 291 
 
 as Mr. Howley had not time to do this on his short visit to 
 Sylvester, and it would take a man three weeks to mark 
 all its sinuous bays and hundred islands. To the south-east 
 were the lakes of Keskitpegawi, Tamnapegawi,^ and another 
 small one about a mile long, whilst close under the mountain 
 were three other ponds of moderate size. Kagudeck, where 
 Reuben Lewis hunts, is a large lake surrounded by heavy 
 woods, and is situated about five miles to the west, and by 
 means of the Bay de Nord waters it would not be difficult 
 to ascend from Fortune Bay to this lake, and so on to Smooth 
 Ridge, where the head waters of the Terra-Nova rise, and 
 so pass eastwards down St. John's Lake and Mollygojack 
 to the sea. 
 
 I remained for some hours on the summit, enjoying the 
 lovely view and sketching in the various features of the 
 landscape. Tiny little spots of white and brown away at 
 the base of the mountain to the north showed two companies 
 of deer, each with a big stag, restlessly wandering from one 
 forest to another. About 2 p.m. we grew chilly from inaction, 
 and so descended to the woods and had an excellent dinner. 
 In the evening we again crossed the big marsh towards our 
 camp, and spent some time in watching a stag chasing a 
 doe in and out of the woods. He seemed to carry a fine 
 head, but when at last I obtained a good view with the 
 glass, the result was disappointing. From our camp I spied 
 the big herd which had settled by a small lake about a mile 
 to the west. This was the largest herd of breeding deer — 
 eighteen does and one big stag with a bad head — I had 
 seen ; but a newcomer had joined them since the morning, 
 and I was anxious to inspect him at close quarters. The 
 stag which had lately arrived was quite hornless — in fact a 
 
 ' I have retained the Indian names for these waters.
 
 292 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 "hummel," or "nott," as these hornless stags are called in 
 Newfoundland. He was an immense beast, quite the largest 
 stag I saw on this trip, and did not appear to have a vestige 
 of horn or even the knobs which denote the presence of 
 pedicles. In Scotland the "hummel" is generally the master 
 of any horned stag, and few can withstand him ; but in this 
 case the hornless stag hung around for more than two hours, 
 watching an opportunity to dash off with some of the does, 
 but without success, for the horned master seemed to inspire 
 him with considerable fear. Next morning he had gone. 
 
 The perfect Indian summer continued as we started on 
 our return journey to Shoe Hill Ridge. It was a hot day, 
 and the men seemed to feel their heavy packs for the first 
 time. We had passed several small troops of deer, and 
 were making our way over the land bridge between Kes- 
 kitpegawi and Tamnapegawi, having almost reached the spot 
 where we had left the head of the thirty-nine pointer, when 
 Steve, who was in front at the moment, suddenly stopped, 
 looked up, and said, " Haliboo — steks — haskajit " (Deer, a 
 stag, a very big one). 
 
 I looked, but could see nothing but some horns sticking 
 out of a small forest of dwarf spruces about 200 yards away. 
 Thinking that Steve was playing some joke because the 
 horns were lying on one side, like those of a dead stag, I 
 sat down and pretended to have been taken in, laughing 
 the while. But Steve was serious, and the glass showed 
 at once that the horns were of great size, and, by their 
 colour, like those worn by a living deer. We left the packs 
 and crept within 100 yards. The stag was either dead or 
 dog-tired and fast asleep, for nothing moved when I whistled. 
 I now made a mistake and went up to within 50 yards, 
 always a foolish thing to do, as the close proximity of
 
 Great Deer Roau near Mount Svlvester 
 
 The Summit of Mount Sylvester, showing the 
 LITTLE Black Cave
 
 OPEN-GROUND HUNTING 293 
 
 man is apt to scare a deer when it is lying down, especially 
 an old stag. We waited half-an-hour, but the stag refused 
 to move, then at last he lifted his horns and showed the 
 whole of his bays, tops and brows, after a perfect chorus 
 of whistles and grunts on our part. What a head! It must 
 be the best in Newfoundland, such middle palms as neither 
 I nor the Indians had ever seen before. I blessed the 
 Sylvester spook and sat down on Steve's knee — a second 
 error — and prepared to take the shot, for I could not see 
 over the " tufts " without some such support. 
 
 If nothing will move a stolid deer, the snapping of a 
 stick is nearly always effectual. John pulled over a rotten 
 branch, and the stag at once sprang to his feet and bolted 
 at full speed. I fired and missed handsomely, but stood up 
 and prepared for a second shot, as I felt sure he would 
 stand before his final departure. It was as I thought. The 
 noble fellow sprang round to take a last look, at about 120 
 yards, and had scarcely stopped when, concentrating all my 
 forces to be steady, I pressed the trigger and planted a bullet 
 through the lungs. There was a satisfactory " plunk," the 
 forty-five pointer reeled, threw up his head, and then fell 
 to the ground quite dead. 
 
 How we rushed up to survey our prize, what mutual 
 congratulations passed, what encomiums were lavished on 
 the Spirit of the Mountain, and what a talk we had on big 
 heads, I leave the reader to imagine. Neither the Indians 
 nor myself had seen such wonderful middle palms — twenty- 
 two large points on the two. 
 
 The sun was shining brilliantly, so I managed to take 
 some excellent photographs, and the day being still young, 
 we sat and skinned the head and enjoyed an excellent 
 dinner, after which the Indians skinned and cleaned the
 
 294 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 shanks for moccasins. About one o'clock we resumed our 
 journey, John carrying the big head, and Steve the thirty- 
 nine pointer, which we now recovered. Exceptional luck 
 had favoured us on this little trip to Sylvester, but more 
 good fortune was in store before the evening closed 
 in. About 3 p.m. I spied a large company of deer, with 
 a very big master - stag, which after some discussion we 
 decided to spare. Then we ran right on the top of a 
 fine stag with three does, about two miles from Shoe Hill 
 and close to the southern end of Keskitpegawi, and whilst 
 I was watching these, Steve spied no fewer than three 
 scattered companies upon a hill to the east, about two miles 
 away. One troop was exactly on the sky-line, and with the 
 aid of the glass I could see that it contained an exceptionally 
 fine stag with splendid tops. Evening was closing in, and 
 the walk would take us at least five miles out of our way 
 from camp, wherefore I sent John on the road home, and 
 with Steve relieved of his pack, made all speed for the hills. 
 The walking here was splendid — a great deal better than 
 the principal streets of Montreal — so we made good time, in 
 spite of a considerable circuit to gain the wind, and to avoid 
 scattered deer which appeared in all directions. 
 
 When we arrived at the ridge and looked for our deer 
 they had moved, so we worked up-wind for some distance 
 before we struck them travelling over the sky-line towards 
 Kesoquit. Two of the does looked scared and kept running 
 a few yards, so they may have caught a glimpse of us 
 as we ascended the hill, but the stag was very active and 
 would not let them run, and thus played into our hands. The 
 country, however, was perfectly bare and open, and I could 
 not, even after much running and manoeuvring, get nearer 
 than 200 yards, at which distance the master-stag offered me
 
 Massive Thirtv-five Pointer Shot near Jubilee Lake, 
 October 1906 
 
 Mount Sylvester
 
 OPEN-GROUND HUNTING 295 
 
 a broadside. I tried to get nearer and nearly lost my chance, 
 as the leading does ran and he prepared to follow. Seeing 
 that it was a case of now or never, I lay down, and taking 
 the 200 yards sight very full, pulled, and heard the bullet 
 strike. The stag ran a few yards after the herd and then 
 stopped, when a second bullet, hitting him high in the neck, 
 dropped him on the spot. In the evening and on the sky- 
 line his horns had appeared to be exceptional, but on closer 
 inspection they proved to be very good, but not so good as 
 I had hoped. Yet to kill two first-class heads in one day 
 in Newfoundland is a feat I had not previously achieved, 
 and the days when such an event happens are rare indeed. 
 
 After gralloching, we left the stag where it fell, recover- 
 ing the head some days afterwards, for Steve had his load 
 and the big head to take to camp, where we arrived in the 
 darkness. John had, however, made a roaring fire, and we 
 sat long, talking over the events of this eventful day. 
 
 Since the beginning of things, man has had three dominant 
 passions : to make love, to go to war, and to hunt wild beasts. 
 Whilst time is teaching us that the second of these is not 
 always an unmixed blessing nor an advantage, although we 
 must ever be prepared for it, the first and third will remain 
 with us until the crack of doom. There is a quiet satisfaction 
 in the soul of the hunter who successfully overcomes the 
 beasts of the chase, which not all the arguments of dilettanti 
 and cognoscenti can influence. The healthy life, the excite- 
 ment, and the freedom from care, once tasted, appeal with 
 ever-increasing force to men — I mean strong men, who have 
 seen all sides of life — for it contains the essentials of happy 
 existence, and man, whatever he may be, will always follow 
 the primal laws till the end of the chapter.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 WANDERINGS ABOUT LAKE MAELPEG AND MOUNT SYLVESTER 
 
 During the following week four or five companies of deer 
 with their attendant stags were seen daily, but the last week 
 of the month signalised the close of the rutting season, and 
 partial abandonment of the does by the stags. In some 
 cases two or three master -stags could be seen with the 
 herds, and these, though still looking at each other with 
 jealous eyes, did not come to actual blows. One day at 
 the north-eastern end of Keskitpegawi, my favourite hunting- 
 ground, I saw three companies within half a mile of one 
 another, and as I was watching a good thirty-pointer, he 
 suddenly left his does and walked off in the direction of 
 another troop. I followed quickly, hoping to see a grand 
 battle, but was disappointed. The travelling stag com- 
 menced feeding as soon as he reached the fresh deer, and 
 the master-stag, a very big fellow with fine double brows, 
 took very little notice of him, except to give a few savage 
 grunts of disapproval. After careful consideration, I decided 
 to shoot this stag if I could get within shot. It proved 
 to be a somewhat difficult stalk, as it was snowing hard 
 and the does were scattered about in every direction on a 
 perfectly open savannah. The wind, however, was blowing 
 strong, and one can take liberties under such circumstances. 
 Accordingly Steve and I crept in swiftly through the middle of 
 the scattered does, and relied on their temporary confusion to 
 effect a rapid advance. Whilst doing so, the Indian suddenly 
 
 296
 
 V 
 
 ^1
 
 LAKE MAELPEG AND MOUNT SYLVESTER 297 
 
 observed a fresh stag advancing from the north along the 
 lake shore, and accordingly we lay flat right in the midst 
 of the deer, which were by this time very uneasy. I could 
 not use the glass, but a temporary clearing gave us a glimpse 
 of the newcomer's head, which was large but not remarkable. 
 At this point we obtained some slight cover from a few 
 " tufts," so, running swiftly forward whilst the does bunched 
 together and stared at us, I got within 150 yards of the 
 master -stag, and laid him low with a bullet behind the 
 shoulder. 
 
 At the shot five more deer appeared on a knoll about 
 150 yards to the left, amongst which was a three-year-old 
 stag. This the Indians desired me to shoot, for the purpose 
 of making wading-boots to be used in descending the river. 
 Accordingly I lay down again, and was successful in striking 
 the deer through the heart, at which he ran about sixty 
 yards and then fell. 
 
 There were some big stumps of dry wood here, so we 
 all set to work at once, John skinning the three-year-old 
 stag, Steve taking off the head of the big stag, and I lighting 
 a fire and cooking dinner. The place was very exposed 
 and the snow falling thickly, so it was some time before 
 we finished our tasks. The young stag was in prime 
 condition, so we took a haunch and the breast as well as 
 his skin, and thus heavily laden returned to camp. In the 
 evening I admired the skill with which the Indians fashioned 
 their long boots. First of all the skin is cleaned, then Steve, 
 making his knife as sharp as a razor, shaved off all the hair. 
 The two pairs of boots were then cut into shape, and after- 
 wards sewn tightly with thread made from the sinews of 
 the deer's back. A seamed-over stitch is used, and very 
 tightly clinched. John Hinx was engaged meanwhile in
 
 298 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 making a deep trough out of a log of "var." In this he 
 placed about an armful of "var" bark, carefully broken into 
 fine pieces with the fingers. Boiling water was then poured 
 into the trough, and the "boots" left to soak for twelve 
 hours. After this they were taken out, well scraped, and 
 put out to dry. They are then finished and perfectly soft, 
 strong, and watertight. It is curious that no skin but that 
 of three-year-old stag is ever used for this purpose. A large 
 stag's skin is too thick, and a doe's skin too weak. 
 
 " What beautiful socks those are of yours," I said to Steve. 
 
 "Yes," he answered, "but Indian women cannot make 
 socks like white women. I get as many pairs of socks as I 
 like for nothing from the Bay de Nord white women, every 
 time I pass that place — and dinners too." 
 
 " How is that?" I queried. 
 
 "Well," said Steve, "I saved a man's life last winter, 
 and I tell you story if you like." 
 
 To this I readily assented, and he began : — 
 
 " Last January it was very cold, and Micky John and 
 me were in the middle of the country, about forty miles 
 north of Bay de Nord, looking for some deer to sell to the 
 wood-camps near the salt water. Micky had gone out, and 
 I came back to tilt about midday, having killed a pisage 
 (young doe). Our tilt was in a little droke by the side of 
 a small brook, and as I go in, I see tracks of a bear or a 
 man on the other side of the brook going north. When 
 Micky came into camp about an hour later, I say to him, 
 ' What for you cross the brook and go north, Micky ? ' For 
 I know there weren't no bears about at that time of year, 
 and I thought it queer that Micky should go across the 
 stream, as it was broad and difficult to cross. But Micky 
 say he had gone west, and those were not his tracks. So
 
 Thirty-nine Pointer Shot near Lake Tamnapegawi, 
 October 1906 
 
 Side View ok the 'Same
 
 LAKE MAELPEG AND MOUNT SYLVESTER 299 
 
 I was curious, as no Indians were about in our country, and 
 white men never come in so far, especially in the winter. 
 We crossed the brook, and I see at once that the track 
 was a white man's, as he wore boots, that he was running, 
 and that he warn't carrying no load, cos his footin' was 
 light on the snow. ' That feller's lost sure,' says I to 
 Micky, ' and we must find him before night or he'll be 
 dead.' 
 
 " I takes my tomahawk and some rum and meat and 
 we flies along the track, for the man was scared and going 
 fast. The footing goes in big circles, and now and again 
 we see where the feller had fell down and bite at the snow, 
 so he was about done and going mad. 
 
 "'Hurry up, Micky,' said I, 'or we'll be too late.' It 
 was cold enough for frost-bite even with two pairs of mits, 
 and when night came on, if a man fall and couldn't get up, 
 he'd very soon die. But Micky was kind o' scared and 
 say to me, ' What if he jump on us and try to kill us ; when 
 a man's mad with fear he do most anything.' But I show 
 him the handle of my tomahawk, and meant to stun the 
 feller if he try any tricks. 
 
 " The strength of that white man was considerable, for 
 Micky and I had to run like deer on our rackets to gain 
 ground, but by-and-by we see he was slowin' and fallin' oftener. 
 Presently I sees his head poking out from behind a bush, 
 so I shouts to him, and he rushes up to me and grabs me 
 round the legs. Micky wanted me to hit him, but I knew 
 he was only mad with joy. His name was Michael Fannell, 
 and he said he thought he was going home. So he was — 
 nearly. 
 
 " He was so done, with his boots and clothing all tore to 
 pieces, that Mick and I had to carry him on our backs five
 
 300 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 miles to the tilt, but once there we rubbed him with rum, 
 dressed him in our spare clothes, and soon had him asleep 
 and comfortable. 
 
 " Three days afterwards we came with our man to a place 
 about twenty miles above the Bay de Nord Mill, and there 
 we meets a great company of men comin' to look for Michael 
 Fannell. When they sees us they sets up a shout and runs 
 to meet us, and the way those people carried on was somethin' 
 terrible. Next day we came into Bay de Nord, and the whole 
 people came out to meet us. Every bell in the place was 
 ringin', every one who had a gun fired it off, and every woman 
 in the place was cryin' and kissin' Michael Fannell. 
 
 " ' Micky,' says I to my partner, ' there's something wrong 
 about all this.' 
 
 " ' What way ? ' says he. 
 
 " 'Why,' says I, 'all those kisses ought to be for us, and 
 nar a one comin' our way.' It wasn't right some way — so 
 when a big feller says to me, ' What would you done if you'd 
 found him dead.-*' 'Oh,' I says, 'I'd a brought out a piece 
 of him any way — his head perhaps.' ^ 
 
 " Then all the women yell and run away. But they was 
 kind anyhow, and told us that me and Micky would never 
 want a good dinner or a pair of socks as long as we were 
 coming to the Bay de Nord." 
 
 Foxes are fairly numerous about these hills, and every 
 evening and morning we could hear their " yapping " as 
 they called to each other. One carcase of a stag near the 
 camp was almost finished by foxes and eagles. The eagles 
 
 ' An Indian is fond of saying something gruesome just to see what the effect 
 will be. These Newfoundland Micmacs do not like to be thought the savages many 
 of the fisher folk consider them to be. This story of the rescue of Michael Fannell 
 is known everywhere in Fortune Bay.
 
 04 
 W 
 H 
 Z 
 
 O 
 
 H 
 
 o 
 
 Id 
 
 X 
 
 o 
 
 w 
 
 Q
 
 LAKE MAELPEG AND MOUNT SYLVESTER 301 
 
 were here all day, but the more cunning quadrupeds only 
 sneaked to their meal in the shadows. 
 
 The red fox of Newfoundland can hardly be said to differ 
 from that of the adjoining continent, although American 
 naturalists like to regard it as a separate sub-species under 
 the name of Vulpes deletrix (Bangs). It is certainly smaller, 
 as we should expect an island form to be, but that its colour 
 is paler and less rusty I do not agree. I have compared 
 skins from Newfoundland with those of Canada, and can find 
 no difference in the size of the feet, which is supposed to be 
 the chief character of the V. deletrix. "The cross-fox," "the 
 patch fox," " the silver fox," " the mountaineer fox," and "the 
 black fox " are all melanic varieties of varying intensity of the 
 common red fox, Vu/pes /ii/vrts {Desmar est). A collection of 
 Newfoundland skins exhibits all degrees of colour from the 
 jet black fox with white end to its tail, which is by far the 
 rarest and most valuable phase, to the true red fox. Of course 
 the true type is the commonest ; then comes the " patch," 
 which may be said to occur as one in every six specimens. 
 In every twenty there is a "cross" or a "mountaineer," and 
 in every hundred a good "silver." The Indians say they get 
 one genuine " black fox " in a lifetime. Noel Matthews 
 obtained 380 dollars for a good skin of this rare variety, and 
 this may be said to be the top price obtained by the trapper. 
 
 The habits of the Newfoundland foxes are very similar 
 to those of the mainland, so little need be said beyond noting 
 a few points of interest which I have not seen stated in 
 other natural histories. These island foxes are practically 
 omnivorous. They will eat any sort of fresh meat and carrion, 
 but do not as a rule attack the carcases of deer until the first 
 severe frosts set in. During the summer they live largely on 
 trout, which they catch with great skill, by watching the
 
 302 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 shallows and darting in on the basking fish. Sometimes they 
 hunt in pairs and drive the fish to each other. In the autumn 
 they live on blueberries to a great extent, and will also eat 
 other fruits. The Indians have told me that they are the 
 deadly foe of the "weasel" (ermine), and that they kill and 
 eat these little mustelids whenever they come across them. 
 No Indian will touch the carcase of a caribou which a fo.x 
 has once visited, owing to the practice the animal has of 
 urinating upon whatever food he has found and wishes to 
 revisit. The urine of the fox is very pungent, and its evil 
 smell doubtless keeps off other predatory animals. 
 
 Foxes like to frequent high stony ground. Here they 
 always have one or more lairs to which they retire in rough 
 weather. In such places grouse are generally to be found, 
 and I have often noticed piles of fresh-water mussels on 
 exposed eminences, where they have doubtless been carried 
 and opened by foxes. 
 
 Foxes have a remarkable sense of hearing, the Indians 
 calling them from a distance of 200 yards simply by sucking 
 the back of the hand in imitation of a vole or distressed hare. 
 When the Indian desires to trap foxes in a new ground he 
 always repairs to the highest point, and, looking down on the 
 landscape, selects for his first traps the narrow spits of land 
 dividing two large lakes. Foxes always pass to and fro along 
 such natural bridges, and almost invariably to one side of the 
 numerous deer paths, as they do not like to walk in damp 
 places if they can help it. 
 
 My friend, Mr. John McGaw, witnessed an interesting 
 exhibition of the playfulness of this animal shortly after he 
 left me on my third journey. He was stalking two stags on 
 Serpentine Hills, near the Gander, when he noticed one of 
 the stags staring stupidly and backing away from some object
 
 
 
 Steve Bernard and the Forty-five Pointer
 
 LAKE MAELPEG AND MOUNT SYLVESTER 303 
 
 which kept leaping up from the ground at its side. On 
 approaching to within eighty yards of the deer, he saw that 
 the curious object was a young fox engaged in an attempt to 
 make the larger animal have a game with him. The fox 
 repeatedly sprang into the air, snapping at the deer's side, 
 and then, as these manoeuvres were resented by the stag 
 lowering its head to strike, it rushed round to the other side 
 to repeat the performance. The nimble game went on for 
 several minutes, Reynard apparently enjoying the fun of 
 chaffing his clumsy friend, who did not appear to appreciate 
 the joke in the slightest degree. Sometimes it bounded for- 
 ward as if to seize the stag's nose, and then as quickly sprang 
 backwards, standing just out of reach in the most provoking 
 manner. My readers will be glad to hear that this merry 
 little fellow retreated in safety. 
 
 Every day I went hunting either in Shoe Hill, Kesoquit, 
 Maelpeg, or along Keskitpegawi. Deer were in abundance, 
 generally in mixed companies or single stags that had finished 
 the rut. On 30th October I saw nine big stags and 1 1 5 does 
 and small deer, but nothing of importance. Except for two 
 small gales with rain, the weather was delightful, and I enjoyed 
 the experience of seeing an abundance of game and good heads 
 all in the open country where a man can use his glass without 
 hindrance. On 31st October the big migration set in from 
 the north, and I saw no fewer than fourteen big stags and 
 145 does. These all came from the forest to the east of 
 Sylvester, so I sent Steve to Kesoquit for more supplies, and 
 went north with John to meet the deer and build a fresh 
 camp. On 31st November a terrific gale with heavy rain 
 burst upon us from the east, and for three days we endured 
 considerable discomfort from the shifting winds. The water 
 sometimes poured in under our flimsy sheet, and a tent would
 
 304 NEAVFOUNDLAND 
 
 have been most welcome, but as we had no such luxury we 
 had to make the best of a bad job, and built enormous fires, 
 which were often moved to suit the wind. The camp, too, 
 was a miserable one, much exposed, with the whole ground 
 covered with rocks, so that I was at last forced to strike camp 
 in a perfect deluge and make for Kesoquit. Indians, as I have 
 said before, simply loathe travelling in such weather, but in 
 this case they were quite cheerful, for a walk to Kesoquit 
 meant warmth, shelter, and the various good things which had 
 been "cached" there in the tilt. 
 
 As we marched through the rain and the mist on 4th 
 November, I saw a single doe passing below us up the main 
 valley. Her ghost-like form was soon followed by another 
 and yet another, so we halted for a moment to see if anything 
 better was to follow. Yes, here he comes, a noble fellow with 
 long antlers. We watched him as he threaded his way through 
 a small marsh about 200 yards to our left. We were about to 
 rise and resume our journey when Steve sprang to his feet 
 with the usual exclamation, " Haskajit " (a very big one), and 
 peering through the mist I saw such a vision of horns as I 
 knew could only belong to one of these mighty ones of the 
 earth. It took us not a moment to run down the hill and 
 strike in on a line where the two stags were passing, but — as 
 bad luck would have it — the long-horned fellow came directly 
 towards us and forced an immediate subsidence to the ground 
 on our part. Here we lay as he walked by with mincing 
 steps, whilst the big one whose horns looked enormous in the 
 haze, walked quickly across the marsh at about 150 yards. 
 There was no chance but to take the shot offered, so I 
 aligned the sights as carefully as possible and fired. The 
 bullet went over his back, and he at once dashed off at full 
 speed. There was now only a faint blur to aim at, but by
 
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 LAKE MAELPEG AND MOUNT SYLVESTER 305 
 
 the greatest of luck I hit the deer right through the heart 
 with my second shot. 
 
 "Very good," said Steve, "you kill him," although I was 
 unaware that my shot had taken effect. We ran forward, 
 and for a time could see nothing of our quarry, though Steve 
 was positive I had hit him, until, going forward, we saw the 
 antlers of the dying stag swaying to and fro on the top of 
 a knoll. He was a noble thirty-five pointer, with large horns, 
 only spoilt by the usual hook brow on the right antler. 
 
 This closed my hunting for the year, and perhaps for ever 
 in Newfoundland. I had killed six splendid heads, four of 
 which were of exceptional beauty, and my collection of caribou 
 heads was now complete. This season had surpassed all my 
 previous expeditions, both in the way of success, and in the 
 enjoyment of finding and stalking deer in an open country 
 where no white man had ever hunted before. Others will 
 doubtless come after me, and for them I can only wish the 
 good luck that attended me ; but I trust that they will employ 
 the Indians who accompanied me, and whose lawful hunting- 
 grounds lie within this area of the country. 
 
 On 6th November we met Matty Burke and Johnny 
 
 Benoit, and all packed up and carried the outfit and heads 
 
 to the canoes on Browse's Lake. From this point to John 
 
 Hinx's tilt the stream was fairly easy, but for the next four 
 
 days the Indians had to display all their skill in preventing 
 
 the canoes from upsetting in the boiling torrent of the Long 
 
 Harbor River. Several times they packed everything for a 
 
 mile or two, but negotiated most of the worst rapids by 
 
 "lining" down them, whilst one man kept the nose of the 
 
 canoe straight with a long spruce pole. On loth November 
 
 we reached Ryan's, and the end of our canoe journey. 
 
 I will not trouble the reader with the difficulties I 
 
 u
 
 306 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 experienced in getting to St. John's at this late season of the 
 year, beyond briefly stating that after packing my heads in 
 Belleoram I had again to recross Fortune Bay in Mr. Ryan's 
 boat. Having missed the weekly steamer, there was nothing 
 for it but to boat and walk across the country. After a 
 heavy gale, we had to run for shelter into Anderson's Cove, 
 but next day made Bay dArgent. Here I said good-bye to 
 my genial Irish friend, and taking the two Indians, marched 
 for eighteen miles across the Peninsula to Bain Harbour in 
 Placentia Bay. None of the inhabitants would or could 
 convey me across the bay, as the weather was vile, but after 
 beating about half the night I induced an old ruffian and his 
 two sons to essay the passage in his lumber schooner for 
 twenty dollars. The night was awful, blowing smoke from 
 the south-east, and half-a-dozen times the skipper wanted to 
 turn back, but by various inducements I got him to hold on 
 till daylight. The seas washed over us, the cabin was so 
 filthy, and smelt so abominably of bilge water and rotten 
 fish, that it made me ill, and it was with great joy I hailed the 
 welcome harbour of Placentia on the following evening after 
 seventeen hours' misery. Here I caught the train, and next 
 day the steamer for England. 
 
 The attendant discomforts of travel in out-of-the-way 
 places are things to be taken philosophically by the hunter, 
 and, in looking back on my days in Newfoundland, they 
 seem few and easily forgotten, whilst the happy ones are 
 numerous and deeply fixed in my mind. 
 
 How strange is England's ignorance of her colonies, and 
 of none so great as that relating to Newfoundland. Those 
 that give her a passing thought consider her people a mixture 
 between French Canadians and Red Indians, who live in a 
 climate that is a hybrid between the North Pole and a
 
 Rough Water on the Long Harbor River
 
 LAKE MAELPEG AND INIOUNT SYLVESTER 307 
 
 London fog. Instead of that, the traveller who goes to seek 
 will find a happy people of the good old English stock, men 
 to whom the Flag of England and respect for the King are 
 no mere idle terms, but are a living ideal, which the lapse 
 of centuries has not palled. There, too, you will find none 
 of the pushful arrogance that often comes with new-found 
 strength. Newfoundland has had some hard knocks from the 
 ignorance of Downing Street, and her Governors, who are 
 in the best position to know, have often been treated with 
 scant respect ; but withal, she does not fling herself into 
 hysterics and talk of independence, but quietly awaits the day 
 when England shall be governed by men who do not " only 
 England know," but have the interests of the whole Empire 
 at heart. I do not know much about politics, but I have 
 travelled much in British colonies, yet it seems to me that 
 until we have members of Parliament whose minds circulate 
 a little farther than the village pump and their own small 
 interests, we shall never know our own people or appreciate 
 their ambitions. 
 
 One really clever man, Mr. Chamberlain, does not belong 
 to that school. Whether his views about tariff reform and 
 colonial preference are sound I will not discuss, but, right or 
 wrong, he is a great man because he has done all that one 
 man could do to lay bare our national self-sufficiency and the 
 folly of neglecting "the cry of the children" when they call. 
 
 Then, too, Newfoundland is not a land of fog and ice- 
 bergs. It has a fairly severe winter, but its late summer and 
 autumn are certainly finer than Scotland. 
 
 " Over there is a sense of freedom we know not here. 
 There is the great sun, the wide horizon, the dancing rivers, 
 and the woods of ever-changing beauty. There is the blazing 
 noon, with its manifold sights and moods of Nature — the
 
 308 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 white-headed eagle, and the osprey lost in cloud of spray ; 
 the American goshawk chasing the belted kingfisher; the 
 rattle of the great woodpecker ; the ' plop ' of the beaver ; 
 the splash of the leaping fish, and a hundred more. There 
 is the evening of changing lights, when from the darkening 
 forest steps the great white-necked stag. There, too, those 
 exquisite nights of twinkling starlight, when you lie and toast 
 your toes at the blazing logs whilst the men spin yarns, and 
 the horned owl shrieks. It is the Spirit of the Wilderness 
 that calls, and the man who has not known has not lived."
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 THE NEWFOUNDLAND CARIBOU 
 
 First of all I must warn my readers that this chapter is 
 intended solely for the hunter and the naturalist, and that 
 the general reader will peruse it at his own peril. 
 
 The name "caribou" is a native Indian word derived 
 from the words " maccarib " or "maccaribo," and not from 
 the French Canadian quarr^ bceuf (that is, a square ox), an 
 origin assigned to it by Sir John Richardson, who wrote the 
 first clear account of the American races of this deer. 
 Lescarbot, in his Nouvelle France (1609), first mentions the 
 caribou, whilst its existence seems to have been unknown to 
 the earlier travellers, such as Cabot, Cartier, and Roberval. 
 
 Space will not permit me to enter into a discussion of the 
 various local races of the reindeer or caribou found in 
 Europe, Asia, and America, nor to argue on the vexed 
 question whether the whole race should be regarded as one 
 species, or a number of sub-species, of which the Norwegian 
 reindeer is the parent form. Without doubt both views of 
 the case are correct in their own way, whether zoologists 
 belong to the camp of the "splitters" or the "lumpers"; 
 but what I do consider a very great mistake is the separation 
 by American and English naturalists of the two great races 
 known respectively as the "Woodland" and "the Barren- 
 land," and the assignation to each of different habits, a state 
 of things which has led to the formation of sub-species such 
 as T. R. Stonei and T. R. Osborni, local races assigned to 
 
 309
 
 310 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 the Woodland group, yet possessing habits practically identical 
 with true T. rangifer of Norway, and T. R. arcticus of the 
 Barren-lands. This is nothing more or less than confusion 
 worse confounded, and based on an ignorance of the habits 
 and movements of the various (so-called) sub-species. A 
 close study of the wild races of Europe, Asia, and America 
 has convinced me that nearly all reindeer spend a certain 
 number of months every year in the timber (when they can 
 find such shelter), and a certain time in the open grounds. 
 In parts of Arctic America the Mackenzie herds, and in 
 Finmark the Northern European herds, live for nearly six 
 months in forests, only repairing to the open tundra or 
 mountain wastes in autumn and winter, and again returning 
 to the forest belts in spring. The same may be said of most 
 of the other local races, whether so-called Barren-ground or 
 Woodland. 
 
 In this work I have endeavoured to show, although it does 
 not seem to be known to naturalists, that the Newfoundland 
 caribou, which have always been known as a typical Woodland 
 race, does precisely the same thing, and leaves the timber 
 in October, returning to it again in the following April. Of 
 course I do not mean to dogmatise and say that all the 
 Newfoundland caribou thus travel, for during these great 
 migrations there are large numbers which do not leave the 
 woods at all, but are more or less stationary, whilst the main 
 body passes through their midst. It is a curious fact in 
 animal life, but no more strange than the habits of thrushes 
 and blackbirds which remain in our gardens at all seasons, 
 even in the autumn, while vast numbers of the same species 
 are passing overhead for southern climes. 
 
 No doubt the reason of these movements of reindeer to 
 open ground is that which prompts the inspiration of migration
 
 FORTV-EIGHT POINT HEAD IN THE POSSESSION OF SlR R. G. REID 
 
 Forty-nine Point Horns picked up on the Gander, 1906, bv Hesketh Prichard
 
 THE NEWFOUNDLAND CARIBOU 311 
 
 amongst all mammals and birds, namely, the absence of a 
 proper food supply for great numbers. When the winter sets 
 in the frost is more intense in forests, and the snow deeper. 
 This causes a " trek " to some area where the wind blows the 
 snow from the exposed ridges, and renders the moss easier 
 to obtain. For converse reasons and the laws of greater 
 protection, the deer return to the woods in spring. I think, 
 therefore, that when the general habits of the American 
 caribou are better known, and their migrations and horn 
 growths, &c., better understood, we shall do away with 
 several of these hastily constructed species, as well as the 
 erroneous titles of Woodland and Barren-ground, which are 
 quite inapplicable. 
 
 The Newfoundland caribou [Tarandus rangifer or Tar- 
 andtis rangifer terrce-novee , Bangs, whichever the reader 
 may prefer to call it) stands about 48 inches at the shoulder 
 (I have measured one 52 inches), 6 feet 8 inches in length, 
 and weighs from 300 to 400 lbs. By the end of September 
 most of the males have white necks and beards, but I have 
 seen a few that were grey all over the neck. The ears and 
 throat mane are always white, but the face and cheeks are 
 generally grizzled, and are seldom, even in the darkest 
 examples, as black as those of Eastern Canada. Sometimes 
 a dark line of hair runs down the back of the neck, and 
 there is always a black or dark brown bunch of hair on the 
 upper surface of the tail. The upper parts of the body are 
 dark or pale brown, but in this respect they are very 
 variable, being almost pure white over the whole of the 
 body in the light variety of this race. These white examples 
 are found in nearly all local races of reindeer. The various 
 names of the different ages of both sexes are thus recognised 
 by the Newfoundland Micmacs : —
 
 312 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 Very big stag, with a Roman nose = Wach-tu-ivich-hu- 
 nema ; very big stag = Haskagit ; very dark stag, with brown 
 on the legs = Wis-o-blich ; big white stag = Wap-tu-quit ; 
 black stag = Mach-tad-u-git ; stag = stecks ; stag with a 
 wide head = Pus-um-wat ; very old stag (sees nothing, has 
 no teeth) = Vis-o-blich ; almost full grown stag = Bis-tim- 
 wat ; good-sized stag {i.e. staggie) = Glon-an-nais ; pricket 
 = Frusanch ; deer = Haliboo ; barren doe = Sigum-tis ; doe, 
 with c^iSi = no-stitk, Hal-a-gii-duk ; young diO^ =■ Pis-age ; 
 calf = Tg-e-adu ; small fawn = Ne-gudu, Punetquhin ; fourteen 
 months' old calf = susanck. 
 
 In 1906 I made the interesting discovery, which is, I think, 
 new to zoologists, namely, that the caribou stag sometimes 
 possesses a sac containing hair in the throat skin. On 
 October 20th I killed a very large stag near Shoe Hill, and 
 whilst removing the neck skin my knife slipped and dis- 
 closed a very curious sac about five inches long and two 
 broad ; this contained growing hair on the inner skin, and 
 the cavity was full of a mass of compressed hair soaking 
 in a watery mucus. This skin bag was situated in a thin 
 vellum of the inner skin in the region of the upper throat. 
 The Indians call this little bag " Piduateh," and the few- 
 white men who know of its existence the " Toler " {i.e. 
 crier or bell), so that it may have some close affinity to 
 the long throat appendage found on the moose and known 
 as the "bell." In the case of the caribou, the hair sac is 
 internal with hair growing inwards, whilst in the moose the 
 ornament is a long piece of hardened skin covered with hair, 
 which hanors from the centre of the throat. The Indians 
 told me that this sac is only found in one in fifty caribou, 
 generally in the males, and that it is sometimes found in the 
 inside skin of the cheek. The existence of this curious
 
 THE NEWFOUNDLAND CARIBOU 313 
 
 attachment has not been previously noticed. It seems to be 
 useless, and can possess none of the functions of a gland. 
 
 The horns of the old stags are dropped between the 
 30th of October and the 20th November. Often the males 
 cast their horns according to their years, the eldest first, and 
 the youngest last. Many five-year-old stags keep them on 
 until Christmas, but it is extremely rare to see a stag with 
 good horns after the ist of December. Unlike the red deer 
 and wapiti, the new horns do not begin to grow at once, 
 the tops of the pedicles being bare for some time before 
 the new growth starts. In fact, Newfoundland stags only 
 show an excrescence of a few inches in March ; after this 
 the horns develop rapidly. The horns of the males are 
 hard to the tips on the ist of September, and are rubbed 
 clean between the 7th and the 12th of that month. At first 
 they are pure white, but change in a few days to a beauti- 
 ful chestnut colour. In Newfoundland it is said that this 
 colour is obtained by the deer threshing its antlers against 
 the alder bushes, which exude a reddish brown sap, a view 
 which cannot be substantiated, because 80 per cent, of the 
 stags rub clean on dwarf spruce and larch trees, ^ in whose 
 neighbourhood there are no alders. But where alders are 
 found they are very fond of swinging the antlers from side 
 to side amongst them to clear whatever shreds of velvet 
 may remain. As the horns dry, the stags repair at midday 
 to high sandy " knaps" in the vicinity of their summer resorts 
 and lie in the sun. The Indians say that they always go 
 soon after to some stream, and there, gazing into Nature's 
 looking-glass, see whether their ornaments are of the correct 
 colour. If this view prove unsatisfactory they go to give them 
 
 ' Some colour is doubtless derived by rubbing on the bark of trees, since it is easy 
 to stain bleached antlers by dipping them in the boiling bark of var or spruce.
 
 314 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 a further polish on the alders, and obtain the desired effect. 
 This pretty superstition is not an Indian one, and may be 
 found in many old books on hunting in England and the 
 Continent, and the tale must have been received by the red 
 men from the early English colonists. 
 
 The caribou does a great part of his horn-cleaning with 
 the hoofs of his hind feet. In fact all deer with which I am 
 acquainted use the hoof largely in freeing the horns of the 
 velvet that clings to the coronets and other parts which are 
 difficult to rub on trees. I have seen both wild and tame 
 reindeer thus engaged, and the foot often get so involved 
 in the antlers that you wonder how it will again become 
 free. But they have a delicate sense of touch, and the most 
 minute particles of velvet are thus removed, whilst there is 
 no instance on record of the reindeer stag having entangled 
 itself in its own horns. 
 
 As in the case of other deer, the best horns are carried 
 by stags of from six to twelve years of age. The average 
 horns do not bear more than twenty points, and have one 
 fair brow shovel, and a hook for the corresponding orna- 
 ment on the other horn. A good many have twenty-five 
 points, whilst a good head generally has thirty points and 
 over. Points are not all sufficient, but nearly every first- 
 class head I have seen has borne thirty-five points or more. 
 The ambition of every hunter in Newfoundland is to kill 
 a forty-pointer, and a few achieve this distinction. I think 
 that any hunter of experience who goes far enough afield 
 and works hard in the second season ought to see eighty 
 adult stags, and one amongst them will be a forty-pointer 
 or even more. 
 
 Horns bearing more than forty-two points are extremely 
 rare, yet every year one or two are killed. I have seen
 
 <. 
 
 i>^lt //t 
 
 
 Skull and Horns of Female Caribou 
 
 I, 2, Usual Types. 3, Hornless Female with Pedicles still present. 4 
 Types from Specimens shot by the Author. 5, Twenty-pointer 
 Matty Burke near the Tolt. 
 
 6, Fine 
 shot by 
 
 fortv-eight pointer shot near the bungalow, 
 Grand Lake, 1906
 
 THE NEWFOUNDLAND CARIBOU 315 
 
 three carrying forty-eight points, and one of my own and 
 a pair of dropped horns in the possession of Mr. H. Prichard 
 have forty-nine, but I have never yet seen a Newfoundland 
 fifty-pointer, although I am quite convinced that three or 
 four heads with this large number of points have been killed 
 within recent years. In 1905 and 1906 I picked up three 
 horns on which are twenty-five, twenty-six, and twenty-six 
 points respectively. Any of these may have belonged to a 
 fifty-pointer, but as in no case did I find the corresponding 
 antler, the case must remain in doubt. The following notes 
 of big heads I have collected at various times, though it 
 must be remembered that nearly every Indian and white 
 man exaggerates both the size of the head as well as the 
 number of points, so the reader can accept the evidence 
 or reject it as hearsay as he pleases. 
 
 Micky John, an Indian, told me in 1906 that he knew 
 of a pair of dropped antlers near the Gander which had 
 fifty-three points ; he had seen and counted them twice. 
 In 1904 Nicholas Jeddore shot a fifty-point head, and sold 
 it to a Mr. Taylor, a surveyor in St. John's. Joe Bernard, 
 late chief of the Micmacs, and Peter John had each seen 
 one fifty-pointer during their lives. 
 
 Very few Newfoundland horns exceed 39 inches in length. 
 The general character is rather short and thick, with more 
 massive brows and bays — that is middle palms — than those 
 of other local races. If they have a manifest weakness it 
 is in the " tops," which are often poor and thin, and a 
 head which carries good double brows, bays, and tops is 
 indeed a great rarity. 
 
 I have killed several over 40 inches in length, and in 1905 
 one of 46 inches, and this was the longest I had noticed 
 in any public or private collection until the autumn of
 
 316 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 1906/ when I saw a wonderful head in the possession of the 
 Hon. J. D. Ryan, of St. John's. By some oversight I had 
 not my steel tape with me, but should say that it is at least 
 51 inches long and 45 inches span between the tops. The 
 brows and bays were poor, and it is not a remarkable head 
 in other respects, but it is probably the longest and widest 
 Newfoundland head in existence. The deer which carried 
 these horns was killed by Matty Burke, a half-breed Indian, 
 near the Tolt in October 1904. So far as I can ascertain 
 the three Newfoundland heads best for all round qualities 
 are as follows : The forty-five pointer killed by myself near 
 Mount Sylvester in October 1906, and the forty-eight pointer 
 shot by a railway man near Spruce Brook in 1905, and now 
 in the possession of Sir R. G. Reid, at Montreal. Mr. 
 Selous, who is a caribou expert, and has seen both examples, 
 says there is little to choose between them. Sir R. G. Reid's 
 head has better brow points than my forty-five pointer, but, 
 in other respects, my specimen is the finer. The third 
 example is a forty-eight pointer with magnificent bays. It 
 was killed on the hills near Grand Lake by an American 
 sportsman hunting from the " Bungalow" in 1906. I give an 
 illustration of this head from a photograph sent to me by Mr. 
 Whitaker. It is curious that General Dashwood, who had 
 so much experience in Newfoundland, never killed a remark- 
 able head ; but such is the case, for I have seen all the 
 heads collected by him, and, though he possessed many fine 
 examples up to thirty-nine points, there is not one which 
 might be called extraordinary. In St. John's, too, we should 
 expect to find some remarkable specimens, but, beyond the 
 
 ' In this year I obtained a head of 46^ inches. Rowland Ward in his horn 
 measurements gives two Newfoundland heads of over 46 inches, but I do not 
 think that they are correctly measured, as I have seen both of them.
 
 THE NEWFOUNDLAND CARIBOU 317 
 
 head belonging to Mr. Ryan, a very large example possessed 
 by the Hon. John Harvey, and a good forty-seven pointer 
 in the possession of the Raid Newfoundland Company, I 
 have not seen anything exceptional. This absence of fine 
 deer-heads in the capital of the island can be accounted for 
 by the fact that the great fire destroyed most of the best 
 trophies, whilst travelling Americans give large prices for 
 any head of remarkable beauty. My friend, Mr. Hesketh 
 Prichard, picked up on the Gander in 1906 a very fine pair 
 of horns with forty-nine points. These are very short, but 
 possess magnificent brows. 
 
 Horns in which the bays are placed low down and close 
 to the brows, as in Norwegian reindeer, are very rare, 
 and I have only seen two examples, whilst equally scarce 
 are horns which carry supernumerary points in the centre 
 of the beam between the bays and the tops, of which I give 
 two figures. Dwarf, or what we may term withered, heads 
 are also somewhat unusual, and are usually carried by very 
 large stags. Hornless stags, too, are not so rare as they 
 are supposed to be. 
 
 For the purpose of comparison with other local races 
 of reindeer, I give the measurements of the twelve best 
 specimens of Newfoundland caribou which I have obtained 
 in the island. In all scientific accounts dealing with the 
 measurements of reindeer horns, no notice is taken of the 
 size of the large brow shovel, a matter of great importance 
 in determining the respective merits of individual heads. 
 Mere length of horn is not everything in judging the 
 qualifications of deer-heads, whilst in this species in par- 
 ticular we must consider beam, span, number of points,^ 
 
 ' The points of reindeer are difficult to count. No point should be included 
 that does not fulfil the old watch-guard or powder-horn test, unless it may be a clean
 
 318 
 
 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 symmetry, weight, and size of the large brow, a feature which 
 adds so much to the general character. 
 
 
 
 Breadth of 
 
 
 
 
 Length 
 
 on Outer 
 
 Curve. 
 
 Circum- 
 
 Large Brow 
 
 
 
 
 ference 
 above 
 
 on Anterior 
 Margin from 
 
 Widest 
 Inside. 
 
 Points. 
 
 Locality. 
 
 Bay. 
 
 Base to Top 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Front Point. 
 
 
 
 
 46i 
 
 5i 
 
 14 
 
 31 
 
 45 
 
 Tamnapegawi Lake, 1906. 
 
 46 
 
 6 
 
 14 
 
 30 
 
 35 
 
 Upper Gander, 190;. 
 
 43 
 
 7 
 
 1 61 
 
 3S 
 
 36 
 
 Shoe Hill Ridge, 1906. 
 
 42 
 
 6 
 
 l6| 
 
 34 
 
 44 
 
 Upper Gander, 1903. 
 
 42 
 
 5h 
 
 IS 
 
 31 
 
 31 
 
 Kesoquit Hills, 1906. 
 
 40 
 
 s 
 
 15* 
 
 32 
 
 38 
 
 Upper Gander, 1905 (picked up). 
 
 40 
 
 si 
 
 I si 
 
 39 
 
 25 
 
 Upper Gander, 1905. 
 
 38 
 
 si 
 
 15 
 
 28 
 
 35 
 
 Upper Gander, 1903. 
 
 38 
 
 5? 
 
 18 
 
 3' 
 
 35 
 
 Millais's Lake, 1902. 
 
 37* 
 
 6| 
 
 >7i 
 
 33 
 
 32 
 
 Migwell's Brook, 1905. 
 
 36 
 
 7 
 
 1 61 
 
 29 
 
 49 
 
 Upper Gander, near Little Gull, 1903. 
 
 36 
 
 6i 
 
 13J 
 
 38 
 
 32 
 
 Kesoquit Hills, 1906. 
 
 Adult females measure from 36 to 40 inches at the 
 shoulder, and weigh from 200 to 300 lbs. The hair of the 
 head is dark brown, with white or grizzled crown and white 
 nose, ears white, and neck grey, with a short white or grey 
 beard extending from the throat to the chest. Upper parts 
 dark brown with a row of very large spots or blotches of 
 very pale brown on the flank. The legs, too, have more 
 brown and black than the males. Black hairs are found 
 on the upper part of the tail, whilst the rump, inner parts 
 of the thighs, and under parts are white. 
 
 The horns of the females, when they possess them, are 
 dropped as late as the end of April, and are, in consequence, 
 later in development than those of the males. It is unusual 
 
 blunt snag at least half an inch from the main horn. The Germans count every- 
 thing as a point upon which a torn piece of paper will rest, but we regard as 
 "offers" all small excrescences that do not fulfil the old British conditions. For 
 instance. Captain Cartvvright's famous "seventy-two point" Labrador head, which 
 I have recently traced, and on which he counted every offer, has in reality fifty- 
 three points.
 
 Lichen Eaten ky Caribou 
 
 Maldow or Bearded Moss, a Favourite Winter Food 
 OF Caribou
 
 THE NEWFOUNDLAND CARIBOU 319 
 
 to see their horns clean until ist October. The usual type 
 of horn is a long thin snag of some 15 to 20 inches, with 
 a short, straight brow of i to 2 inches. Some, however, 
 have six or seven points and a few ten to twelve points. 
 A greater number of points than twelve is rare, the largest 
 number I have myself seen on live deer being heads of twelve, 
 thirteen, and fifteen points. The best head I know of is 
 that of a female shot by Matty Burke near the Tolt in 1904. 
 It bears twenty points, and is now in the possession of Mr. 
 Philip Ryan at Long Harbor. Joe Jeddore told me that 
 his brother Nicholas killed a female caribou in 1905 whose 
 horns carried twenty-eight small points. He was to have 
 sent the head to me, but the skull was eaten by dogs. 
 
 Quite 8 per cent, of the female Newfoundland caribou 
 carry no external horns, ^ and yet I have never seen the 
 skull of a hornless female that did not possess small pedicles. 
 This is a somewhat interesting point, as it shows that there 
 is a tendency amongst the females of that island race to 
 lose their horns. It is remarkable, too, because all Nor- 
 wegian female reindeer possess horns of some kind, and the 
 Esquimaux of Labrador say they never see hornless females. 
 Of the Eastern Canadian race, breeding females about Abitibi 
 are frequently hornless, but Mr. Selous tells me that those of 
 the Yukon in Northern British Columbia are all horned. 
 
 Calves are born in the woods in May, and have no 
 natural enemies except the lynx, which kills a few m the 
 early days of their existence. The mothers are very affec- 
 tionate and suckle the young until September, when they 
 are weaned. It is not unusual, however, to see a calf sucking 
 
 ' My calculations are based on some notes I took of female caribou seen in 
 open country, when I could easily examine them with the glass, in 1906. Out of 
 300 females, 1 had eleven points ; i, ten ; 3, eight; 25, six or seven; 246, four or 
 more points ; and 24 had no horns.
 
 320 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 the mother as long as she can give milk. At two years of 
 age they will receive the stag. Without doubt they bear 
 calves very regularly for more than twenty years, as the red- 
 deer hinds do, and the percentage of barren does is very 
 small. Instances of twins are rare, as are also pure white 
 varieties. I saw a nearly white doe on the Gander in 1905, 
 and in the spring of 1904 Steve Bernard shot a young doe, 
 near Long Harbor, that was pure white all over, with pink 
 and white hoofs. 
 
 The Indians say that in extreme old age the stags 
 become both blind and deaf, and that they occasionally 
 come across these old patriarchs whose horns are reduced 
 to thin spires with a hardly perceptible brow. On this 
 point they have an interesting superstition which is fully 
 believed in. They say that when stags become very old 
 they go down to the salt water and disappear in the sea, 
 where they at once turn into large whales (Pudup) or into 
 small whales (Halibuge or Muspage). The origin of this, 
 I find, comes from the home of the Micmacs, Sydney, Cape 
 Breton, where one day a hunter followed three moose along 
 the shore for some distance, and then found the tracks 
 entered the sea. Immediately afterwards he saw three large 
 whales spouting off shore, and his simple mind connected the 
 two facts. I explained the possibilities of the circumstance, 
 but the Indians held firmly to their views, instancing that, 
 conversely, stags often came out of the sea on to the land 
 again. John Hinx gave several examples of this, and stated 
 that his grandfather, Joe Paul, had once shot three stags 
 near Conn River, whose stomach was "full of shrimps." 
 The other Indians at once confirmed these tales. After 
 this it was useless to argue. 
 
 The principal food of the caribou at all seasons is the
 
 THE NEWFOUNDLAND CARIBOU 321 
 
 common reindeer moss {Cladonia rangiferma), of which 
 there seems to be a large and a small variety. They also 
 eat two other lichens, Stereocaulon paschale, and Bryopogon 
 jubatum. The long-bearded tree moss, known to the New- 
 foundlander as "maldow," is a favourite food in winter. 
 In the autumn the adults also eat blueberries,* the withered 
 leaves of alder and birch, whilst the females and young are 
 very partial to the small shoots of larch, on which I have 
 seen them feeding exclusively. The females chew the points 
 of every old horn they come across. With such a wonderful 
 feast spread by Nature, the caribou would suffer no hardship 
 at any season were it not for the sudden frosts following on 
 thaws — at such times the winter rain freezes as it falls, and 
 encrusts the ground and trees with a hard mass of ice, 
 through which the deer are unable to break. 
 
 These ice storms are known in Newfoundland as the 
 " Glitter," and are the cause of all the sudden local movements 
 on the part of the deer during winter. The most remarkable 
 instance occurred in the first week in December 1898 — one 
 of the severest winters ever e.xperienced in the island. Tens 
 of thousands of caribou were collected in the neighbourhood 
 of the woods and open country just south of Sylvester, and 
 extending to the Tolt in the east and the Long Harbor 
 River as the western boundary. A glitter came on suddenly, 
 and the whole of these deer moved in a single night to the 
 west at full speed. Several of the Indians saw the trails 
 made by the mass of deer, and described them to me as at 
 least ten miles wide, with few intervals in between. Only 
 one man saw the great trek. His name is Joe Rigg, and 
 
 > The stomach of a stag I killed in 1906 was half-full of blueberries. These 
 it must have swallowed as the berries lay on the ground amongst the C. rangiferina. 
 I do not think that they eat the berries off the bushes. 
 
 X
 
 322 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 he is the game- warden of Long Harbor country. I had 
 the good fortune to meet him in 1906. Joe had gone in to 
 shoot a couple of deer about ten miles north of Mr. Ryan's 
 house, and described the night as the most wonderful he 
 had ever seen. As far as the eye could reach there were 
 " millions and millions of caribou," and he stood in astonish- 
 ment the whole day as the pageant rolled by. Putting 
 aside Rigg's pardonable exaggeration, the deer seen by him 
 must have constituted a half of the stock in the whole 
 island, perhaps a hundred thousand, and the sight must have 
 been a remarkable one. These deer moved west without 
 a stop till they came to Conn River, where dozens were 
 killed in the streets of the village. From thence they held 
 on, and dispersed themselves from this point westward as 
 far as Burgeo for the rest of the winter. 
 
 When reindeer are caught in isolated positions, such as 
 small islands and ranges of mountains, by one of these 
 sudden frosts following a thaw, and there is no chance of 
 escaping to less exposed places, the whole stock die of 
 starvation. Such a calamity occurred on the Upper Laerdal 
 mountains in 1892, and on several islands in the north of 
 Hudson's Bay some years ago, and I could name other 
 instances. 
 
 Purely local movements, brought on by sudden meteoro- 
 logical conditions, must not be confounded with the annual 
 migrations which take place in nearly all parts of the island 
 at two distinct seasons, and which I shall now endeavour 
 to describe. 
 
 Caribou, like other species of deer which occur in large 
 numbers, are in the habit of changing their habitats. In the 
 case of moose these changes of range are generally gradual, 
 extending over a period of several years, whilst the reindeer
 
 THE NEWFOUNDLAND CARIBOU 323 
 
 may suddenly desert a district in which they have lived for 
 years for no apparent reason.^ 
 
 Twenty years ago the main winter abode of the Newfound- 
 land caribou stretched from Bay Despair to La Poile, whilst 
 a certain number, nearly all small deer, spent this season until 
 the spring in the high country, just below the forest belt, 
 stretching from Terra-Nova and Cloete Sound to St. John's 
 Lake. It is strange that few came south of this into the 
 great open country between the Tolt and the Bay de Nord 
 River, but Indians have told me that at this time it was the 
 rarest thing to see more than a few odd deer in this area 
 north of Fortune Bay, which is now their principal home at 
 this season. To-day a certain number of deer never migrate 
 at all, and live in the woods of the interior and the penin- 
 sulas, which are their summer home. There are always 
 some to be found at all seasons in the Northern Peninsula, 
 and many other isolated tongues of land, such as are found 
 south of St. John's and Placentia ; and on the east coast 
 many too remain throughout the year in the forests about 
 Red Indian Lake, Victoria Lake, St. George's Lake, the 
 Gander, the La Poile, Round Lake, and the Western Maelpeg 
 — in fact, over the whole island. 
 
 The building of the railway, which cuts the island in two 
 in the north centre, proved what had already been known 
 for years, that a vast body of deer commenced its migration 
 from the Northern Peninsula early in September. In cold 
 seasons this movement commenced early in the month with 
 the advent of does and calves with a few young stags. 
 These crossed the track at various points between the Gaff 
 
 ^ A good instance of this has occurred recently in East and North-Eastern 
 Ontario. Previous to the year 1897, all the country from Mattawa to Abatibi was 
 caribou ground. About that year the caribou began to desert it for Northern 
 Quebec, and in their place entered moose in great numbers.
 
 324 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 Topsails and Bay of Islands, the main body pursuing lines 
 across the White Hill plains, Howley, Goose Brook, and 
 Patrick's Marsh. In mid-September came more does and 
 half-grown stags, and at the end of the month the breeding 
 deer, consisting of adult does and stags. Throughout October 
 more and more stags, influenced according to the weather, 
 continued to pass southwards, and in the first week in 
 November the last of the big deer and the "main jamb" 
 of small deer brought up the rearguard — the migration being 
 over about the 20th of that month. Of the subsequent 
 movements of the animals but little was known, except that 
 during the late winter great numbers made their appearance 
 between White Bear River and La Poile, on the south-west 
 coast, and were killed by the men of this district. 
 
 During the first few years of the railway every man who 
 had a rifle or gun repaired in the autumn to various crossing- 
 places of the deer, and in a couple of days killed all he desired. 
 At first good heads were not considered, but soon it became 
 known to the fishermen that a fine stag's horns were worth 
 money, so the slaughter of the adult stags became as much 
 a matter of importance as a saleable article as a fat doe 
 meant to themselves. Without any restrictions the slaughter 
 of stags commenced, and it was not unusual for one man who 
 was a good shot and knew the trails to kill as many as twenty 
 heads in a fortnight. This went on for several years, until 
 the slaughter became so reckless ^ that the Government took 
 notice of it, and enforced a law by which only five deer 
 
 ' A man armed with a Winchester rifle seated in the railway line near Howley, in 
 October 1897, killed the leading doe of a herd of twenty-eight deer. As she fell 
 the others were thrown into helpless confusion, and stood about offering easy targets. 
 The ruffian then killed the whole herd, of which only one carcase was removed. 
 This dastardly act was reported in St. John's, and was the chief cause of the 
 Game Act.
 
 The End of the Season — Quite Good Friends Again, but very Thin 
 
 - - '/?-J9»rV 
 
 , *. £ 
 
 'A^^j^if^ 
 
 ,^i\y-'i 
 
 Fox Playing with a Stag
 
 THE NEWFOUNDLAND CARIBOU 325 
 
 might be killed by a single hunter. As the adult stags con- 
 tinued to decrease, this was further reduced to three, at which 
 it now remains. But during these years the stags, and no 
 doubt many of the does, had been learning a lesson by which 
 they hav'e now profited. Instead of crossing the line on their 
 northern migration in spring, the majority go no farther than 
 the chain of impenetrable forest which stretches from Glen- 
 wood to Round Pond, and again at intervals from Pipestone 
 to the headwaters of the La Poile. In this area quite two- 
 thirds of the caribou live in peace and security, and are 
 scarcely molested at all until they move south to the open 
 country, north of Fortune and Hermitage Bays, in the winter. 
 Consequently the adult stags are now hardly touched, because 
 the winter shooters invariably choose fat does in preference 
 to lean stags. 
 
 A great number of deer, nearly all does and young animals 
 with a few mature stags, still traverse the line at their old 
 crossing-places, and the great open country north of Grand 
 Lake, and on as far as George IV. Lake, and come south as 
 they always did, but during the past few years very few good 
 heads have fallen to the guns of the "pot-hunters," who 
 bewail the absence of the crowned monarchs, and think that 
 they have gone for ever. At the present day there are pro- 
 bably more adult stags in Newfoundland than ever there were, 
 but they take better care of themselves ; this is the opinion of 
 the Indians, and I believe the correct one, and as long as the 
 great central sanctuary is not invaded in summer, when the 
 females are bringing forth their young, and no other railway 
 is built to pierce their autumn trails to the south of the forest 
 belt, Newfoundland will always keep her deer, one of her 
 most valuable assets. 
 
 From the central forests the migration commences early in
 
 326 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 September by the does coming out to the open places. About 
 the 1 5th of this month the first stags also begin to show up, 
 at first timidly and then with greater confidence. The sign 
 of the approaching rut is seen by their peculiar behaviour. 
 The stag stands looking about in strange fashion. He ceases 
 to feed except to suck up mud and water, and in the evening 
 and early morning is seen rushing in and out of the forest 
 in silent passion. As yet he does not grunt, but when he 
 stops will stand and gaze for long periods at some object that 
 may develop into a possible mistress. If the does have gone 
 on, for at this season they make curious little migrations in 
 any direction, he "noses" along, following on their tracks, 
 and stopping now and again to lick and snuff up their de- 
 licious scent. Soon he finds the object of his desire, and 
 captures one or two wives, with whom he may stop for a short 
 period in the little open marshes that adjoin his forest home. 
 I am no believer in the fidelity of the caribou or of the moose. 
 He rapidly tires of his wives or they of him, and though he 
 may even "trek" south for a short distance with the first 
 females he has picked up, he soon leaves them and looks for 
 fresh charmers. When in full "rut," which we may place at 
 nth October, he will, if a big and strong beast, gather as 
 many as fifteen or eighteen does into his harem, but this is 
 unusual, ten or twelve being the usual limit. At this season 
 one constantly sees wandering troubadours, full of noise and 
 passion, rushing madly along the hillside and simply "spoiling" 
 for a fight. These are large adult stags, which are much 
 "run," and have just left their harem and are looking for 
 fresh conquests. If they meet another like themselves or 
 a master -stag with does, a fight is certain to ensue. No 
 deer fights oftener or with greater savagery than the reindeer, 
 and they are often drowned in the bogs in their reckless
 
 Interlocked Antlers picked up by T. P. Miller near Millais's Lake, 
 
 September 1905
 
 THE NEWFOUNDLAND CARIBOU 327 
 
 passion. Hardly an adult stag is free from traces of combat 
 at the end of October. It is common to see them scarcely 
 able to crawl from the blows they have received, and with 
 horns knocked to pieces. In 1904 Joe Jeddore walked up 
 to two large stags that were fighting and put a charge of 
 buckshot into one of them at a distance of fifteen paces. The 
 stag thinking his opponent had inflicted the blow, made one 
 mighty rush at him and fell dead. The other deer then ran 
 forward and pounded the carcase of the fallen one, when the 
 Indian fired his other barrel and killed the second stag on 
 the top of the first. Even young stags fight most savagely. 
 I watched two on the hills one day in 1906 going at each 
 other for over an hour, until in fact they were both so 
 exhausted that their blows had no power and they could 
 only reel about. 
 
 At this season the smell of the stag is very pungent. 
 The mucus of the nostrils is so impregnated with a musky 
 odour that if any of it gets on your fingers it is most 
 difficult to remove. The flesh is so charged with the taint 
 that adult stags are uneatable from 3rd October to 20th 
 November. 
 
 Caribou do not make "wallows" like other species of 
 deer. In late September the stags often stand on little 
 mounds and scrape away shallow pits with their feet, gene- 
 rally in spots where some doe has been and left traces of 
 her presence. This habit is very similar to that of the 
 bull moose, but I have never seen the pits so deep as those 
 made by the larger deer. 
 
 On the 25th of October the rutting season may be said 
 to be at an end, and the main migration begins. The first 
 sign of the general movement is the joining of parties and 
 the presence of one or two old stags moving together. They
 
 328 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 still eye one another, and one stag will not permit another 
 to approach too closely. They also commence to feed again 
 and to travel. If cold weather in the shape of a heavy 
 snowstorm with the wind in the north-east sets in, the whole 
 stock of deer in the island may be set in motion on a 
 single day. The reader must not, however, imagine that 
 the Newfoundland caribou migrate in a great mass like "la 
 foule " of the Barren-lands. On the contrary they travel 
 singly or in small parties of from two or three individuals 
 to twenty or at the most thirty. They are to be seen 
 running or walking swiftly along their main "fall trails," 
 and are generally led by an old and experienced doe, with 
 the stag or stags bringing up the rear. In this way they 
 will go forty or fifty miles in a single night, and soon reach 
 the desired open ground, where they stop a few days until 
 they are moved on by successive waves of deer. In the late 
 fall it is common to find an area of country swarming with deer 
 one day and deserted the next. Two days afterwards the 
 same ground may be again covered with the animals, and 
 so this southward movement goes on until the end of 
 November, when the whole body of deer that intends to 
 mio-rate have reached their southern limit and their winter 
 quarters. Here they remain until March, when the north- 
 ward migration sets in and they return to their summer 
 homes. 
 
 The Millicete Indian name "Megaleep" (the wanderer) 
 is the most applicable one for the caribou ; for a more 
 fidgety, wandering, and dissatisfied creature does not exist 
 on the face of the globe. It is always thinking that the 
 other place is the best and trying to prove its theories. 
 Its whole character is one of restlessness and curiosity. 
 Except in summer, when it lies down in the woods at
 
 THE NEWFOUNDLAND CARIBOU 329 
 
 midday, and in the autumn, when the rutting parties may 
 be seen sleeping at midday on the lake edges, it is rare 
 to see the caribou rest like other creatures, and so the man 
 who goes to find it must have long and strong legs. It 
 is more than a fool when it comes running back again and 
 again to stare at you or to take the wind, and more than 
 cunning when it makes its summer bed in some dense 
 thicket full of dry sticks where not one hunter in a thousand 
 can creep in or out without giving the alarm. In fact its 
 whole nature is one of complication and a mixture of qualities 
 alternately wise and idiotic. 
 
 The complex character of the reindeer is noticed in its 
 extreme shyness of certain things that other animals will 
 hardly notice, and its total absence of fear at the sound 
 of the rifle or the avalanche. I have seen many instances 
 of their nervousness. One day in 1906 I was watching five 
 does and a large stag, when a cock willow grouse ran out 
 of a small depression and stood upon a rock about half- 
 way between myself and the deer. The caribou actually 
 heard the scratching noise made by the grouse as it ran 
 up the rock, and all dipped their bodies suddenly and 
 started to run. Then seeing that it was only a grouse 
 they commenced feeding again. A moment later the bird 
 rose and flew over their heads uttering its merry cry, where- 
 upon the company without warning took to their heels with 
 all speed, and galloped away over the sky-line. On another 
 occasion I saw a small herd stampeded by a pair of ravens 
 which were simply "diving" through the air at each other. 
 The deer appeared to be much frightened and ran out of 
 sight. Wild geese rising also -puts them on the move,^ 
 
 • G. L., writing in the Field, April 21, 1906, says that Greenland reindeer will 
 even take alarm at a snow-bunting flying by.
 
 330 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 and stones falling down a hill create a state of "jumps." 
 Red deer, however, will take little notice of falling stones ; 
 but I have had more than one stalk spoilt in Norway by 
 dislodging a few pebbles which came within the hearing of 
 reindeer. This is the more curious, because stones are falling 
 all day in the high Qelds of Norway when the snow is melting. 
 On the other hand I have fired at and killed a stag in the 
 midst of a herd of caribou, when the deer, after merely turning 
 their heads, have continued to feed. In fact, if a strong wind 
 is blowing, and the fallen deer does not roll and kick, and 
 the hunter lies hidden, it is unusual for caribou to take much 
 notice of a shot. 
 
 The female call is a low grunt which she utters either 
 when travellinor or to attract her calf. She uses it at all 
 times, and the watch doe often makes this signal of alarm 
 before she raises her tail and bristles out the hair of the 
 rump. Females and males also make a loud puffing snort 
 or hiss as they spring into the air. In the rutting season 
 the stag makes use of two calls. It depresses the neck and 
 raises the nose, giving vent to three loud grunts. If much 
 excited it makes a second call, which is produced in the 
 throat by means of the breath being inhaled and exhaled 
 quickly. Mr. Thompson Seton, in an excellent article^ on 
 caribou, says, " In several parts of the country I find traditions 
 that formerly the Indians used to call the caribou as they 
 do the moose, but the art has been forgotten." The Indians 
 of Newfoundland invariably call the caribou stag in the 
 rutting season, and I have called many myself. The art 
 is quite easy, and can be learnt in a few days. The only 
 skill required is to know when to give the call. Travelling 
 stags come to the cry more easily than herd stags, and 
 
 ' Scribner, 1906.
 
 The Forty- five Pointer 
 
 Portaging Heads on the Long Harbor River
 
 THE NEWFOUNDLAND CARIBOU 331 
 
 of this I have given several instances in the preceding 
 pages. 
 
 Caribou make a curious crackling sound as they walk 
 which has been explained in various ways. The Micmacs 
 say that it is produced by the hoofs overlapping on the ground 
 and springing back to the proper position as the leg is raised. 
 But this cannot be correct, as the sound is made when the 
 foot rests on the ground and the weight of the body is thrown 
 upon it. Sometimes it crackles twice as the weight descends, 
 and again as it lifts, and it is probably made, as Mr. Thompson 
 Seton suggests, by the tendons slipping over the adjoining 
 bones. The sound is not produced at every step, but is 
 generally heard when the leg is placed in some strained 
 position, as for instance when the deer grazes forward, 
 leaving a hind leg at full tension. A herd passing close to 
 the observer make a rattling sound like a band of castanets, 
 and can be heard at a distance of fifty feet or more on a 
 still day. 
 
 Between the front of all the hoofs there is a large gland,' 
 from two to four inches deep, and with the entrance covered 
 with bristly hairs, which secretes a musky yellow fluid. It 
 is almost the diameter of a pencil. It has been stated that 
 when the deer cross a human trail they put their noses to 
 their feet and then rush off at full speed. I have never seen 
 them do this. They put their noses to the ground and 
 carefully smell all the human tracks, and then gazing at each 
 other show unmistakable signs of fear, such as sudden starts, 
 springing into the air, and bristling out the stern. I have 
 never seen them actually smell at their own feet, and think 
 the gland is used for some occult purpose which at present 
 
 ' The Greenland Esquimaux call this gland klookirtal ; the Micmacs have no 
 especial name for it.
 
 332 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 we do not understand. Even the purpose of the human 
 glands are not yet understood. 
 
 The feet of the caribou are better adapted for running 
 on bogs, snow, and ice than anything that the brain of man 
 could devise. In a morass a 200-lb. man sinks in much deeper 
 than a 400-lb. caribou, whilst the former on snow-shoes or 
 " ski " has no chance whatever with the sure-footed reindeer. 
 I remember once pursuing some reindeer along the side of 
 a steep mountain in Norway when we came to a " snow-brae " 
 going up and over the mountain. It was so steep that it was 
 quite impossible to follow the deer in their ascent without the 
 help of an ice-axe to cut steps. Until then I had no idea 
 that these deer possessed such activity on snow and ice, for 
 their movements could only have been equalled by mountain 
 sheep, ibex, or markhor. 
 
 The hair of the caribou is very light and porous. It is 
 not thought that the deer possess wool, but the shoulders of 
 the adult Newfoundland caribou male are covered with a 
 soft, silky brown wool, which rises above the ordinary coat 
 of hair in October. The hair is so light that it causes this 
 deer to swim higher in the water than any other species. It 
 is so buoyant that it has been used to stuff life-belts, whilst 
 Dr. Wintz has invented a cloth of reindeer hair which when 
 made into clothes prevents the human body from sinking. 
 In consequence of the natural advantages of its covering the 
 caribou takes to the water with readiness and can swim long 
 distances at a considerable speed. It makes two men put 
 forth all their power as paddlers to overtake them in the water, 
 through which they can pass at five miles an hour. When 
 unmolested they go much slower, say three miles an hour, 
 and are very careful to take the wind of any spot they have 
 selected as a landing-place.
 
 THE NEWFOUDLAND CARIBOU 333 
 
 A caribou will as soon swim as walk. I once saw two 
 does enter the extreme end of a long narrow lake about one 
 mile long and two hundred yards broad, and swim the whole 
 length, when they could easily have walked along the side. 
 
 The Newfoundland caribou are plagued throughout the 
 greater part of the year by flies and their maggots. Two 
 kinds of gad-fly infest them, and a large species squirts its 
 maggots, furnished with small hooks, into the channels of the 
 nostrils, where they feed on the mucus, and grow to a large 
 size by July, when they are ejected by the deer and finish 
 their final stage in the ground. The other, a small one, whose 
 maggot is laid in the skin of the back and flanks, must give 
 the deer endless torture. These commence to grow in October, 
 and are not got rid of until the end of July, when the skin 
 is riddled as if by swan-shot. The irritation caused by these 
 pests must be intense, for the deer are often to be seen rubbing 
 their flanks on the rocks and stones in spring-time. In the 
 summer, too, hosts of mosquitoes, sand flies, and black flies 
 attack them, and drive them to the highest points of land away 
 from the rivers. 
 
 It is very difticult to figure out the number of caribou in 
 Newfoundland, and all estimates must be mere guesses. Mr. 
 Moulton of Burgeo, judging by the numbers wintering in the 
 barrens north of that place and White Bear Bay, puts it at 
 250,000, and thinks they are increasing at the rate of 10,000 
 annually. Mr. Howley, on the other hand, places the figures 
 at 100,000, and I think that double this number is a very fair 
 estimate. In spite of the enormous slaughter which takes place 
 annually, and which is every year greatly on the increase,^ 
 
 ' I have the best authority for stating that over a thousand guns were sold by one 
 firm in St. John's in 1905. "Personally conducted" parties, numbering fifty men 
 in each party, are now coming from America every year, and who knows to what 
 this number may reach.
 
 334 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 Newfoundland will keep her deer for many centuries to 
 come if all shooters are licensed, and the number of deer 
 shot by each person does not exceed three. Thus putting 
 the death-rate at the highest estimate of three animals 
 each to 4000 shooters, 12,000 would be killed out of 
 200,000, that is a depreciation of 6 per cent. Now this is 
 a much smaller rate of killing than takes place amongst 
 the stags of Scotland, and they are undoubtedly on the 
 increase. Ninety-nine per cent, of the interior of Newfound- 
 land is only fit for a caribou preserve, and the authorities 
 now recognise this. 
 
 It is a great pity that so little has been done in the way 
 of domesticating the Newfoundland caribou, and that for 
 causes easily explained only a few have been caught and 
 tamed. From their greater size,^ strength, and ferocity 
 during the breeding season the stags are too unsafe to 
 keep, but something might be done with the does on a small 
 scale, the stags being killed when they reached the age of 
 three years.^ 
 
 The Governor of Newfoundland, Sir William MacGregor, 
 is much interested in the importation of Norwegian reindeer 
 into Labrador, where he believes they will be of much ad- 
 vantage to the natives. Owing to the generosity of Lord 
 Strathcona, a ship-load of these animals will shordy be sent 
 to Labrador, and it is intended that the Esquimaux of the 
 north coast will be put in charge of them as herdsmen. 
 Personally I think that it will be a mistake if these careless 
 little sea-rovers are assigned to this task, and that the deer 
 
 * Peter John had a stag for three years. It was perfectly tame and could be 
 handled until the third year, when it became so dangerous to all persons that he 
 was obliged to shoot it. 
 
 ^ It is a common theory that two-year-old stags cannot beget good stock. This 
 is quite erroneous. A large percentage of calves of all deer are sired by these 
 youngsters, and are as good and strong as those begot by adult animals.
 
 THE NEWFOUNDLAND CARIBOU 335 
 
 will suffer in consequence. Their whole natures are different 
 from those of the Lapps or the Indians, and they may 
 neglect their charges for the excitement of the chase. But 
 that the deer will thrive and breed if properly looked after 
 there is not a shadow of doubt. In Alaska a similar ex- 
 periment has met with great success, and all well-wishers 
 of the poor Labrador " Liveres " will rejoice if this unselfish 
 experiment on the part of Sir William MacGregor and Lord 
 Strathcona turns out well, for it is as yet too soon to 
 criticise it.^ 
 
 In 1905 several moose were imported, but were in such 
 an enfeebled state when they were turned out that it is 
 doubtful if they survived, although various reports of their 
 being seen at points so widely apart as Black River, the 
 Upper H umber, and Bay of Islands, were current in 1906. 
 It is a matter of the highest importance that more of these 
 fine mammals should be introduced annually for a period of 
 five or six years, and that their care should be entrusted to 
 a competent keeper of wild animals both during transport 
 and after arrival. Every one who is acquainted with the 
 nature and habits of wild beasts is aware that during journeys 
 by sea and train most large animals are terribly upset and 
 will not feed, and that to turn them out in a new country 
 immediately on arrival is generally fatal. A stockade of say 
 two hundred yards square should be built somewhere near 
 the railway on a good site, say in the woods on the Gander 
 Lake, where the food of moose is abundant. There they 
 should be tended by their keeper for two or three weeks, 
 and fed with artificial food until they take to the natural 
 
 ' As this work goes to press I am informed by Sir William MacGregor that " Dr. 
 Grenfell has ordered three hundred reindeer, and that they will be kept for the first 
 year at Anse Sablon." It is probable that these deer will be looked after by Lapps 
 or Norwegians vvho have spent their lives amongst reindeer.
 
 336 NEWFOUNDLAND 
 
 browsing and have partially recovered their condition. Then 
 they could be liberated. All this would be rather more 
 expensive, but the extra money would not be wasted, and I 
 feel certain that if such methods were adopted moose would 
 be a great success in Newfoundland from every point of 
 view. They do no harm to timber trees, as they live princi- 
 pally on rowan and birch, and in summer on water-lily roots, 
 so that the wood companies could have no objection to them. 
 The few hundreds of pounds which the Government would 
 have to spend would be worth thousands in years to come. 
 
 One important point in connection with the introduction of 
 these animals is that it is necessary that all inhabitants of 
 Newfoundland should know of the experiment, otherwise the 
 animals are certain to be shot. I found in 1906 that the 
 Indians knew nothing of the moose that had been imported, 
 and if they had come across them the deer would have been 
 killed. It is therefore necessary that the Government should 
 inform the chief, Reuben Lewis, that they are anxious to 
 establish the moose, and that the Indians must not touch 
 them. In this case they would not be molested.
 
 APPENDIX 
 
 Some men will always be successful in a new country, whilst others 
 will be unsuccessful. I have therefore never advised any man to 
 go to Newfoundland in search of sport, nor do I do so now, 
 unless he is personally known to me ; for there are a variety of 
 reasons why certain people should not go where disappointment 
 may await them. 
 
 In September heads are very difficult to obtain, and the hunter 
 must go far afield and work hard for his game. Besides this, many 
 who would like to visit the island are deterred by the fact that they 
 will only be allowed to shoot three stags. In late October, however, 
 it is not difficult to get three good specimens. Be that as it may, I 
 am continually receiving letters from strangers who are anxious to 
 hunt in Newfoundland, and so in self-defence I have appended the 
 following list, which comprises the whole outfit and its cost for one 
 sportsman for a month and ten days : — 
 
 Outfit for Forty Days' Travel 
 
 One waterproof sailor-bag, containing all personal necessaries, including fishing- 
 tackle, cartridges, photographic materials, clothes, &c. 
 
 One reindeer sleeping-bag (can be obtained from Mr. Brandt, furrier, Bergen, 
 Norway, for jQz, los.); in this package place a light sou'wester. 
 
 Two rifles in waterproof covers, with cleaning rod. 
 
 One trout-rod and landing-net. 
 
 One 2o-foot basswood canoe and paddles, which can be obtained from Mr. 
 Blair, St. John's; price, with landing dues, &c., ;^i2. 
 
 (If a long trip is projected, an additional 1 6-foot canoe to carry extra 
 provisions should be taken.) 
 
 Two guides, at 2 dollars a day each. 
 
 One box of provisions, which can be obtained from Mr. Blair, Water Street, 
 St. John's, containing the following : — 2 Premier axes, i hatchet, 6 fathoms 
 cod line, 3 bottles rum, i bottle brandy, i large kettle, 2 small kettles, 
 
 1 steel frying-pan, 3 tin boxes for holding tea, sugar, &c., 2 pepper and salt 
 tins, 2 lbs. powdered alum, i iron bake-pot, 20 lbs. bacon, 5 stone American 
 flour, 7 lbs. tea, 2 dozen boxes matches, 20 lbs. best sugar, 3 lbs. candles, 
 
 2 lbs. baking-powder, 12 tins Swiss milk, 3 lb. tins of jam, 9 lbs. of best 
 butter, 6 calico bags, 3 sets knives and forks, 3 teaspoons, i can-opener, 
 6 sail-needles, i ball twine, 6 cakes of soap, \ lb. pepper, 4 lbs. dried apples, 
 I tin lard, 4 lbs. tobacco, 2 bags of hard bread, i bag onions, 3 cups and 
 saucers. To this list may be added anything the traveller fancies. 
 
 Cost of whole outfit, including fares from England and return, 
 about ;^ioo. 
 
 337 y
 
 338 
 
 APPENDIX 
 
 MiCMAC Indian Names for Animals, Trees, Places, &c. 
 
 Animals. 
 
 Bear . 
 Fox . 
 Marten 
 Ermine 
 Otter . 
 Beaver 
 Musk-rat 
 Lynx . 
 Wolf . 
 Whales 
 
 Mouin. 
 
 Wauk-wis. 
 
 A-bis-tan-ouch. 
 
 Skource. 
 
 Ku-nik. 
 
 Cub-it. 
 
 Kee-wa-su. 
 
 A-buk-sigan. 
 
 Pak-tissum. 
 
 Pudup. 
 
 Trees. 
 
 Birch . 
 Var 
 
 Spruce . 
 Poplar . 
 White Pine 
 Rowan . 
 Cherry . 
 Witch-hazel 
 Alder . 
 Reindeer Moss 
 Maldow 
 
 (Old man's 
 
 Masqui. 
 Stogan. 
 Kowat. 
 Mid-di. 
 Ku-wow. 
 Sem-o-se. 
 Wig-was-mose. 
 Nim-mogan. 
 Tup-si. 
 Wab-im-whol. 
 Hal-net 
 beard moss). 
 
 Birds. 
 
 White - headed 
 Eagle 
 
 Osprey 
 
 Horned Owl 
 
 Jay . 
 
 Woodpeckers 
 (three-toed) 
 
 Greater Yellow- 
 shanks 
 
 Canada Goose . 
 
 Dusky Duck 
 
 Red - breasted 
 Merganser 
 
 Great Northern 
 Diver 
 
 Kit-pu. 
 
 Wisk-ma-guaso. 
 De-digle. 
 Mik-ja-go-guch. 
 
 A-bodich. 
 
 Geg-wig-a-dich. 
 
 Sinnunk. 
 
 Hap-soi-sraimuch. 
 
 To-makon-e. 
 
 Quimuk. 
 
 Fish. 
 
 Ouananiche 
 
 Salmon 
 ' Trout . 
 i Stickleback 
 
 Herring 
 
 Cod . 
 
 Towanow. 
 
 Plamu. 
 
 Had-a-wasu. 
 
 Cum-gila-gwitch . 
 
 Halunch. 
 
 Pa-chu. 
 
 Lakes, Rivers, &"€. 
 
 Bay Despair 
 Long Pond . 
 Soulis Ann Pond 
 Brazil Pond 
 Little Burnt Pond 
 Round Pond 
 Pipestone Lake . 
 Sit Down Lake . 
 Gander River 
 Millais's Lake 
 St. John's Lake . 
 Long Harbor River 
 Mount Sylvester . 
 Bond's Lake 
 Prowse's Lake 
 
 Lub-despe. 
 
 Waleje. 
 
 Souli-an-ek. 
 
 Brazil-ek. 
 
 Bad-e-wis-gek. 
 
 Mem-kus-cowpe. 
 
 To-mag-on-apse-wagodie. 
 
 Eneuchabeech Cospen. 
 
 Ha-glacea-waag. 
 
 Haliboo-waygodie. 
 
 Sambadista. 
 
 Sibook. 
 
 Minacktu. 
 
 N'Mooch-waygodie. 
 
 Podopsk. 
 
 Some Newfoundland Colloquialisms 
 
 The most of these are old English expressions of the days of the 
 Tudors and the Stuarts. The local population came mainly from
 
 APPENDIX 339 
 
 the west of England, Devon, and Somerset. Old colonial customs 
 and words all had their origin in Devon, &c. All lakes are ponds, 
 and grouse are partridge, simply because there were no lakes or 
 grouse in Devon. 
 
 Breaching, fish rising on the top of the water. 
 
 Brews, a dish made of soaked biscuit, fish, &c. ; very good mess (cp. Beaumont 
 
 and Fletcher, " What an ocean of brews shall I swim in "). 
 Cruising, paying visits. A lady sent her servant to a friend, asking her would 
 
 she like to pay some calls with her in the afternoon. Servant man — "The 
 
 Missus wants to know if you will go cruising with her this afternoon." 
 Curry, the fish offal. 
 
 Douse, to put out a light (" Douse the glib," put out the lantern — Hamlet.) 
 Dout the fire, to put out (see Shakespeare). 
 
 Drake, a wooded narrow valley (probably same as the old English word drock). 
 Drung, a narrow lane. 
 
 Flankers, sparks from a wood fire coming out of the chimney. 
 Frore and froke, for frozen. ("The parching air burns frore " — Milton.) 
 Heft, to feel the weight of anything. Heft it, that is, see how heavy it is. 
 Linhay, a lean-to attached to the main building ; pronounced by the natives 
 
 linney. Well-known English word used in " Lorna Doone." 
 Logy, heavy, dull. Thus, a logy day. 
 Moidered, muddled, bothered. An old English expression. 
 Atouch, to play the truant from school. 
 Scat of snow, just a light fall. 
 " Scattered fish " means a small catch. 
 
 Seal : an old seal is a Doter; a two-year-old one, a Bedlamer. 
 Spurt, a run of fish. 
 Starrigans, small decayed sticks of trees ; boughs of burnt fir-trees ; a word of 
 
 contempt. A mean building of the Reformed Church of England in one 
 
 out-harbour was always known as the Starriga?i Church. 
 Stog : to stag a. house is to stuff moss, &c., between the posts. 
 Strouters, piling for a wharf. 
 Swoil is a seal. The seal fishery is always spoken of as the Spring of such 
 
 a year. 
 Yaffle, an armful of fish. 
 Yary, pronounced yarry ; means a careful, early-rising man. From the old 
 
 English. (Shakespeare, "Twelfth Night" — "Be yare in thy preparations.") 
 
 The Game Laws of Newfoundland 
 Provide that — 
 
 No person . . . shall pursue with intent to kill any caribou 
 from the ist day of February to the 31st day of July, or from the 
 ist day of October to the 20th October, in any year. And no 
 person shall . . . kill or take more than two stag and one doe 
 caribou in any one year. 
 
 No person is allowed to hunt or kill caribou within specified 
 limits of either side of the railway track from Grand Lake to Goose 
 Brook, these limits being defined by gazetted proclamation.
 
 340 APPENDIX 
 
 No non-resident may hunt or kill deer (three stag) without 
 previously having purchased (50 dollars) and procured a licence 
 therefor. Licences to non-resident guides are issued, costing 
 50 dollars. 
 
 No person may kill, or pursue with intent to kill, any caribou 
 with dogs or with hatchet ... or any weapon other than firearms 
 loaded with ball or bullet, or while crossing any pond, stream, or 
 water-course. 
 
 Tinning or canning of caribou is absolutely prohibited. 
 
 No person may purchase, or receive in barter or exchange, any 
 fiesh of caribou between ist January and 31st July in any year. 
 
 Penalties for violation of these laws, a fine not exceeding 
 200 dollars, or, in default, imprisonment not exceeding two 
 months. 
 
 No person shall hunt or kill partridges before the first day of 
 October in any year. Penalty, not exceeding 100 dollars or 
 imprisonment. 
 
 Any person who shall hunt beaver or export beaver skins before 
 ist October 1907 shall be liable to confiscation of skins and fine 
 or imprisonment. 
 
 No person shall use any appliances other than rod, hook, and 
 line to catch any salmon, trout, or inland-water fishes within fifty 
 fathoms from either bank on the strand, sea, stream, pond, lake, or 
 estuary debouching into the sea. 
 
 Close season for salmon- and trout-fishing, 15th day of 
 September to nth day of January following. 
 
 Printed by Ballantyne, Hanson &• Co. 
 Edinburgh 6* London
 
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