A LABRADOR SPRING 
the seals were too quick for me. The fish im- 
mediately ceased striking, and evidently skulked 
in alarm. I was only too glad, therefore, on 
hearing the cries of a pigeon hawk, to lay down 
my rod and follow the bird until it plainly in its 
great anxiety pointed out its nest. This was 
situated about twenty-five feet from the ground 
in a tall black spruce, and was built of dry 
sticks and thickly lined with soft rootlets, 
small twigs and strips of soft bark, and it con- 
tained five thickly spotted, chocolate-brown 
eggs. Both parents flew about with rapidly 
quivering wings uttering their sharp vibrating 
ki ki kt; the voice of the smaller male was dis- 
tinctly higher pitched and less harsh than that 
of his larger mate. From time to time they 
swooped down with great fury and swiftness 
at the intruder, but always glanced up before 
reaching him. 
The Romaine River, one of the largest rivers 
of the southern part of the Labrador Peninsula, 
empties into the Gulf of St. Lawrence half way 
between Mingan and Esquimaux Point. At 
some distance from the coast it forms the most 
important highway into the interior, and is 
annually used by the majority of the Mon- 
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