226 THE LABEADOR PENINSULA. CHAP. xiv. 



filling the spaces between, and changing their harsh and 

 unyielding outlines into a level green plain or a gently 

 sloping hill, fair to look at, but dangerous to trust. 

 Lying at full length on a giant erratic, and looking over 

 its well-worn edge, I could without difficulty see three tiers 

 of these ' travelled rocks,' and in the crevices the charred 

 roots of trees which had grown in the mosses and lichens 

 which formerly clothed them with perennial beauty. 



Where did all these boulders come from ? What 

 brought them ? and where are they yointj ? 



Turning again to the black wilderness of charred trees 

 standing on the charcoal- covered flats of sand bordering 

 the river, I met the men who were engaged in carrying 

 the canoes and baggage across the portage. They were 

 nearly as black as the ground they walked on, and looked 

 like a procession of weary chimney-sweeps, silently, hur- 

 rying through a country especially their own in Indian 

 file. The burnt country looks like a land of the dead ; 

 and everything, in fact, is dead. Although the fire in 

 one part of it occurred three years ago, yet no new moss 

 has begun to grow or grass to spring up ; there is no 

 herb on the sand or lichen on the rocks, all is dead. 



It was a pleasant change to enter one of the little oases 

 in this black desert ; it was delightful to see the sparkling 

 river, and the trout boldly darting out on flies : there at 

 least was life, and in one of its most beautiful forms. 



I asked Michel how far we should have to travel 

 before we had passed through the boulder country, point- 

 in" 1 at the same time to the vast numbers which were 



O 



strewn around us. Michel shook his head solemnly, as he 

 slowly said that rocks like those around us became more 



