A LABRADOR SPRING 
main river almost opposite. Beyond the 
forest plain was a wooded ridge of hills, and 
beyond this at a distance I could not even 
guess, was the eternal ridge, the foreguard 
of the rocky heights of the interior, a ridge 
blue and gray and white. 
To the east there was a glorious view of the 
river flowing swiftly towards us for two or three 
miles, and issuing from the forest to the north. 
Here and there on either side of the river were 
low white sand-banks, their whiteness making 
a beautiful foil for the dark green spruces and 
blue water. Near at hand, on the south side of 
the river above the fringe of birches which 
skirted the edge, was a forest of tall gaunt 
spruces, a few giants standing out bare and 
leafless save for a tuft of dark green which 
crowned their summits. Below us to the west 
the river was parted by a wooded island, and 
the roar of the rapids on either side came to our 
ears like the surging of a mighty wind. Above 
the blue sky was flecked with fleecy clouds, 
and great cumuli were boiling up from the 
mountains in the north. 
We climbed down over the snowbank into the 
wet, tangled forest below, but could not approach 
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