240 GLACIAL "EVIDENCES." 



ridges, all broken and crumbling on their face towards the sea, we 

 came to a long stretch of mucky meadow, nearly if not quite level 

 with the sea at high tide. Soon these marshy lands gave place to 

 long ridges of glacial-worn, rounded, rocky elevations, which run 

 into the water in the direction of Greenley Island. This singular 

 formation of rock reminds one much of an immense table, of lon- 

 gitudinal and transverse elevations and depressions of several acres 

 in extent, which slowly fall to the sea easterly on both sides. 



Several houses and sheds were perched here and there with 

 apparently little beneath to support them, while the rock itself fur- 

 nished a natural '' fish flakes," upon which fish were spread to dry 

 in the sun. The direction of these ridges, as they fell off into the 

 sea, was almost exactly north by east to south by west, and, as they 

 entered the water, they were pointing directly for Greenley Island, 

 where a grand confusion of broken rocky debris would undoubtedly 

 tell the geologist its history. Everywhere were present rounded 

 tops, and cleft sides of rocks while I was confident I found upon 

 their surface several glacial scratches lying in about the same general 

 direction. The whole mass reminds one of an immense checker- 

 board, where the boundary lines between the squares were deep 

 clefts and the very top of the squares rounded hummocks, covered 

 with glacial marks. There is hardly another such location "on the 

 Labrador," as it is here called, that presents so unusual and decid- 

 edly remarkable an appearance. 



Friday, the 13th. The wind has played us one of its tricks, to- 

 day, and left for parts unknown. We tried all day to get into 

 Forteau but were unable. We consoled ourselves however, as well 

 as possible, with roast duck, and waited for the wind. What little 

 breeze we did have was dead ahead. Finally we returned to Blanc 

 Sablon, and prepared to send letters home by a small schooner 

 that we found leaving that afternoon for Gaspe. Saturday it was 

 foggy, and we were unable to proceed but a short distance from 

 the harbor. The gun at Greenley Island lighthouse, and the steam 

 whistle at L'Anse Loup, kept up a continual hooting, while, near 

 to, we could hear and almost see — several times we actually did 



