AND KAYAK 45 



as the children heard &quot; Piovok &quot; they gave 

 a scream of delight, and went racing over the 

 bay perhaps freed from the shadow of a 

 thrashing that had hovered over them as 

 long as the ice was dangerous and spent the 

 rest of the day romping and playing &quot; tig &quot; 

 and &quot; sleds &quot; without a fear in the world, and 

 as if there were no such thing as nine or ten 

 fathoms of icy water under them. I took a 

 very short and cautious walk on the ice that 

 first day, but I cannot say that I enjoyed it 

 it was too nerve-racking by half. The 

 surface had a queer elastic feel and gave way 

 under my feet, like walking on cushions (such 

 was the sensation), and swayed so horribly 

 that I was glad to get off it. On the next 

 day I tried a little skating on it, and thought 

 to myself tha,t nowhere in the world could 

 there be such a place for skating as Labrador, 

 with its hundreds of miles of tough grey ice 

 and its sheltered channels and Norway-like 

 scenery. But I was mistaken about the 

 skating. No enterprising syndicate will ever 

 exploit the North Atlantic Ocean as a skating 

 rink, for on the third day the surface was 

 slushy the salt was working out ; and on 

 the day after that there was a snowstorm 

 which covered the ice a couple of feet deep 

 with hard waves and ridges of snow, and not 



