BEAVER HARBOUR. 159 
edge of a lake, and subsist principally on deer 
and bear, and such fish as they can take in the 
lake. They own no canoes, neither do they 
know the use of firearms, their only weapons 
being the bow, arrow, and spear.’ 
The wind came on to blow as we left this 
interesting spot, and soon increased to a gale 
from the south-east, making the Otter rock most 
unpleasantly in the cradle of the deep. About 
10 a.m. we ran into Beaver Harbour, our destin- 
ation. This so-called harbour, being nothing 
more than an open roadstead, is disagreeably 
rough; a heavy sea rolls angrily in, dashing in 
foamy breakers on the rocky coast. 
We anchor about a mile from shore, the 
captain deeming it unsafe to venture nearer. 
To announce our arrival, a gun is to be fired: 
this, I observed, was rather a service of danger 
to the sailor who had to touch it off, as it was 
just an equal chance whether the bulk of the 
charge came through the barrel or the touch- 
hole ; the latter having become so capacious from 
rust and long usage, as to necessitate the em- 
ployment of an enormously long wand, with a 
piece of lighted slow-match tied to the end of it. 
All hands having cleared away, and carefully 
concealed themselves, the wand slowly appears 
