A LABRADOR SPRING 



the seals were too quick for me. The fish im- 

 mediately ceased striking, and evidently skulked 

 in alarm. I was only too glad, therefore, on 

 hearing the cries of a pigeon hawk, to lay down 

 my rod and follow the bird until it plainly in its 

 great anxiety pointed out its nest. This was 

 situated about twenty-five feet from the ground 

 in a tall black spruce, and was built of dry 

 sticks and thickly lined with soft rootlets, 

 small twigs and strips of soft bark, and it con- 

 tained five thickly spotted, chocolate-brown 

 eggs. Both parents flew about with rapidly 

 quivering wings uttering their sharp vibrating 

 ki ki ki; the voice of the smaller male was dis- 

 tinctly higher pitched and less harsh than that 

 of his larger mate. From time to time they 

 swooped down with great fury and swiftness 

 at the intruder, but always glanced up before 

 reaching him. 



The Romaine River, one of the largest rivers 

 of the southern part of the Labrador Peninsula, 

 empties into the Gulf of St. Lawrence half way 

 between Mingan and Esquimaux Point. At 

 some distance from the coast it forms the most 

 important highway into the interior, and is 

 annually used by the majority of the Mon- 



228 



