The Crested or Hooded Seal belongs to a separate family, 

 which contains in addition only the Sea Elephants. It grows to 

 about eight feet in length and is rather an aggressive beast. 

 Through the years, there develops on its nose a remarkable kind 

 of bladder, which can be inflated from within and through which 

 the males when fighting at the mating season make ghastly 

 gurgling noises — like prolonged snorts — that can be heard for 

 miles over the ice. The Bearded Seal is misnamed in that it 

 really carries a super "Old Bill" moustache of extraordinary, 

 flattened, horny, recurved bristles that are believed to act as a 

 guard against the spines borne by many of the sea creatures on 

 which it feeds, such as certain fish and sea urchins. Like the 

 Greenland Seal, it belongs to the family of ordinary seals con- 

 taining the little Harbor Seal of our coasts, the Ringed Seal, and 

 the large Gray Seal, none of which assembles in great enough 

 numbers at any one place to form the basis of commercial 

 sealing operations. The Bearded, Hooded, and Greenland Seals 

 spread out over the ocean and along all its coasts after giving 

 birth and breeding. Then they all turn up — on schedule — at these 

 breeding areas the next year. They perform true migrations. 



FLIGHT OF THE GREATER SNOW GOOSE 



There are other aspects of migration to be seen in this province 

 at almost any time of the year, but there is one that is really 



Ptarmigan, a game bird of sub-Arctic moorland and barren 

 ground, showing the contrast between their white winter 

 plumage (above) and the dress they wear the rest of the 

 year (facing page). 



very arresting. This is the passing, or rather visiting, of the 

 Greater Snow Goose, a magnificent pure white bird with a few 

 black-tipped wing feathers that make it look, when at rest, as if 

 it had a black tail. These birds nest, raise their young, and spend 

 the summer away up in Ellesmereland in the northern part of 

 the Arctic Province but migrate south to the coasts of Maryland, 

 Virginia, and North Carolina to spend the winter. There used to 

 be millions of them, but they were slaughtered so unmercifully 

 that by 1908 there were only about 3000 left. Strict conservation 

 efforts came just in time, and there are today more than 100,000, 

 all living in one great flock, moving north and south together, 

 nesting together, and spending the winter together. The odd 

 thing about their annual migration now is that all of them put 

 down twice a year at a place called Cap Tourmente, which is 

 some twenty-five miles downstream from Quebec on the St. 

 Lawrence. In the spring they arrive there in March from the 

 south and stay until May; in the fall they arrive about late 

 September and again stay about three months. Their massed 

 flight looks disorganized at first appearance, but photos taken 

 from the air far above them and from certain angles disclose 

 that the masses are divided into squadrons of fairly equal num- 



