CHAPTER X 
SOME LABRADOR RIVERS 
“Les rivieres sont des chemins qui marchent.” 
— Pascal, 
HE Labrador Peninsula, like a mighty 
sponge, holds much water in its meshes, 
frozen into flinty ice it is true during the greater 
part of the year, but abundantly fluid during 
the brief summer season. As one cruises along 
the southern coast line in spring, one passes a 
series of watercourses large and small, each 
bearing out into the green waters of the Gulf 
its dark brown floods laden with tree trunks 
and evergreen branches. Even at a distance 
of two or three miles from shore, the less dense 
fresh water is often distinct from the heavier 
sea-water which it overlays, and a curious 
effect is produced by the churning up of the 
green sea-water, so that it contrasts strongly 
in the steamer’s wake with the tea coloured 
fresh water on either side. 
All the rivers are frequented by trout and 
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