346 LABRADOR 
banks one hundred and fifty miles from our shores, pays 
tribute to our Vikings of Peace, the acknowledged masters 
of the mighty Atlantic, even among the rocks of Labrador. 
His name, halibut, probably means ‘“‘holy plaice,’? — 
“holy” because a favourite food on holy days. He is often 
found in water as deep as two hundred and fifty fathoms. 
He prefers to live in water approaching the temperature 
of 32° F., or that where fresh water would freeze, and he 
ranges from the fortieth parallel of north latitude to the 
Arctic Ocean. The larger specimens attain lengths of eight 
or nine feet and weights of four hundred pounds; some- 
times these giants have lived to so great age that large 
barnacles may be found growing on the skin, much as bar- 
nacles grown on an old whale. It takes a hand winch to 
haul up a big fish, and four or five men to get him over the 
side. Where only two men operate the dory, the usual 
plan is to list the gunwale over level with the water and 
then rush the fish and water in together. The halibut 
has sometimes had his revenge by capsizing the little craft. 
On one occasion a Gloucester vessel had brought asick man of 
their crew to our hospital, and, wishing to express gratitude, 
offered us a fresh halibut. We gladly accepted, the change 
of diet being very welcome. We were a little surprised, 
however, to see later four stalwart men coming up the 
platform with a fish swung on poles — the fish the size 
of a porpoise! The fish smokes most excellently, the pieces 
then much resembling good Wiltshire hams in appearance. 
Halibut are eminently fitted to survive. They are very 
swift and powerful, have large mouths with fearful, sharp 
teeth. They have a most catholic appetite that readily 
embraces a few dozen younger brothers or sisters if these get 
