A LABRADOR SPRING 
colony. We were glad to find that the bird 
still survived. 
Near the town the spruces and firs had been 
so cut away that the sand was sweeping back 
and had already overwhelmed one house. A 
large cross, evidently erected to stop the 
progress of the shifting dunes, stood in the 
midst of this waste. Heretic that I was, I 
could not help thinking it would have been 
wiser to plant beach-grass and trees. 
As we had been told at Quebec that the mail 
boat reaching Natashquan about the first of 
June would continue on to Harrington, we 
climbed aboard the ‘‘ Aranmore’”’ as she lay 
at anchor at a long and safe distance off Natash- 
quan, fully expecting to go on further east. 
What was our surprise when our old friend 
Captain Hearn turned her prow westward 
again, and my hopes of glimpses of the bird 
colonies of Cape Whittle and of Dr. Grenfell’s 
hospital at Harrington were dashed. However, 
we were glad to return to Esquimaux Point, 
and I knew by previous experience that a 
Labrador steamer, like life itself, was very 
uncertain. 
As unfavourable winds had prevented us 
126 
