SALMON FISHING IN LABRADOR. 163 



approved, but was much delighted with the prospect. 

 The welcome word to let go the anchor soon rang 

 forth, and the emblem of faith took hold on firm sand 

 at four fathoms. 



In discussing our early dinner, the captain informed 

 me that he intended going ashore to seek out a suit- 

 able place to strand his craft, and that I might as well 

 accompany him and explore to the westward, for a 

 stream was marked on his chart which could not be 

 over a few miles from our anchorage. Soon we trod 

 terra firma, and, while MacGregor remained, I started, 

 double-barrel in hand, on a reconnaissance, with light 

 steps and lighter heart. The soil was thin and unpro- 

 ductive, bearing nothing but stunted brush, excepting 

 in the ravines and hollows, sheltered from the prevail- 

 ing winds ; here a dwarf deformed pine or stunted 

 larch would rear its diminutive head, or an antiquated 

 birch, covered with its hoary bark, hang precarious from 

 a jutting rock. Intense solitude reigned around, and 

 nought broke the stillness of the landscape, save the per- 

 severing, wicked hum of the bloodthirsty mosquito. 

 With buoyant hopes I walked on, and just as I began 

 to think I had traversed quite two miles, I suddenly 

 came upon the margin of a bright, pure river, about 

 seventy yards wide, running in a continuous, rapid 

 stream towards the sea. Mungo Park's first view of 



