IN AUDUBON'S LABRADOR 



songs of birds. The shadows of the clouds piled 

 up over the high land of Great Mecattina were 

 wonderfully beautiful. We sailed out past the 

 Bale du Lac Sal6, where the six brothers Galli- 

 chou, who live in summer at Old Post, have 

 their winter houses; past Ha Ha Bay with its 

 fine hills; past a deep harbor, formed by a 

 glacial cirque, and on into the archipelago of 

 Kekarpoui. The captain suggested that these 

 islands would make a good bird reservation, 

 but the birds had been so decimated there 

 that the name of one of the groups of rocky 

 islets — Les lies AffligSes — seemed most ap- 

 propriate. Only a few black-backed gulls, ra- 

 zor-billed auks, and black guillemots were to 

 be seen. Not an eider or murre was left, but 

 I have no doubt that rigid protection would 

 bring all of these birds back in numbers. 



On one of the Kekarpoui Islands lived a 

 Good Samaritan, an old salmon-fisherman, 

 Jacques McKinnon. Whenever Jacques heard 

 of any lonely body too old or infirm to work, 

 he would take him to his house. He and his 

 wife had ministered to several poor old dere- 

 licts who had had no one to care for them, and 

 had tended them faithfully until death. 



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