A LABRADOR SPRING 



main river almost opposite. Beyond the 

 forest plain was a wooded ridge of hills, and 

 beyond this at a distance I could not even 

 guess, was the eternal ridge, the foreguard 

 of the rocky heights of the interior, a ridge 

 blue and gray and white. 



To the east there was a glorious view of the 

 river flowing swiftly towards us for two or three 

 miles, and issuing from the forest to the north. 

 Here and there on either side of the river were 

 low white sand-banks, their whiteness making 

 a beautiful foil for the dark green spruces and 

 blue water. Near at hand, on the south side of 

 the river above the fringe of birches which 

 skirted the edge, was a forest of tall gaunt 

 spruces, a few giants standing out bare and 

 leafless save for a tuft of dark green which 

 crowned their summits. Below us to the west 

 the river was parted by a wooded island, and 

 the roar of the rapids on either side came to our 

 ears like the surging of a mighty wind. Above 

 the blue sky was flecked with fleecy clouds, 

 and great cumuli were boiling up from the 

 mountains in the north. 



We climbed down over the snowbank into the 

 wet, tangled forest below, but could not approach 



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