IN AUDUBON'S LABRADOR 



they have not the intelligence to escape. Al- 

 though it was six o'clock in the evening and 

 the fog was so thick that we could not see the 

 shore, on which we could hear the surf pound- 

 ing only a short distance away, the light in 

 this northern seashore region was so intense 

 that I was able to photograph the men as they 

 were drawing the nets. 



The men begin at one side of the trap and 

 haul the nets into the boat, crowding the fish 

 in a quivering, struggling mass at the other 

 side, whence they are scooped up into the boat 

 or lifted up in the net. We had a small haul, 

 only about three quintals of fish. 



Saturday morning early we boarded the 

 steam-trawler Tommie and started for the 

 fishing-grounds. The captain, Sam Elder, had 

 learned the business of gill-netting from my 

 friend, Mr. Jere Campbell, at Gloucester. The 

 net is about a fathom wide and is kept upi- 

 right at the bottom of the sea by lead weights 

 on the lower edge and metal cylinders filled 

 with air on the upper edge. It is hauled up 

 over the side of the boat by a steam- winch and 

 it came up literally crowded with fish entangled 

 by their gills and tails in the naeshes of the net. 



