BLANC SABLON 



the sand. Again there were somewhat thicker 

 carpets of spruce and fir. But what I appre- 

 ciated most in this desert region — features 

 that I wished could be transported to my 

 home dunes at Ipswich, Massachusetts — were 

 the brooks of clear, cold water in which trout 

 darted to and fro. Inland, beyond the dunes, 

 were raised beaches of boulders, low cliffs, and 

 again more terraces and raised beaches. 



The path, which had been obscure among 

 the dunes and often wiped out by the blowing 

 sand, then led me over the higher land some 

 distance from the sea, and I suddenly became 

 aware of the fact that it was marked by what 

 looked for all the world like cart-wheel ruts. 

 Anywhere else I should have thought noth- 

 ing of it, but here, there were no carts and no 

 horses, and, as far as I knew, the only animal 

 of this description in all the region had lived 

 and died some years ago at Natashquan, two 

 hundred and fifty miles off. I tried to explain 

 the phenomenon in various ways, but learned 

 from Mr. Grant that these were in reality cart- 

 tracks made many years ago by the horse and 

 cart of the wealthy and famous Mr. Jones of 

 Audubon's time. Vegetation is of slow growth 



