BLANC SABLON 



nist — had gone back into the mountains for 

 the day. Captain Blais, one of the splendid 

 men of the coast, unfortunately for me had 

 not yet arrived for the season. I was made 

 welcome at his house, however, and, after a 

 good lunch, returned to Blanc Sablon. 



This was, Friday night, and I signified my 

 intention to the Grant family of giving up all 

 ornithological work for the rest of the visit 

 and of taking part in any variety of fishing 

 occupation they might suggest. I did not, how- 

 ever, bind myself to shut my eyes and ears 

 to birds, for this was impossible. I was at 

 once taken possession of by the younger mem- 

 bers of the family, who proposed to initiate me 

 into the various branches of Labrador fishing. 

 We were ta.ken in a motor-boat that towed a 

 "trap skiff" full of men out to haul cod-traps 

 near Greenly Island. The cod-trap is a large 

 box, as it were, made of nets suspended in the 

 water by corks and cask buoys. At one corner 

 is an opening, and here a net called a leader, 

 some fifty yards long, connects it with the 

 shore. The cod, swimming along the coast, 

 strike the leader and at once turn to deeper 

 water for safety and enter the trap, from which 

 S65 



