Bird Conservation in Labrador* 
BY 
Charles Wendell Townsend, M.D., 
Ornithologist, temporarily on the Staff of the Geological Society. 
I N the latter part of the eighteenth century, in the time of Cart¬ 
wright, water birds swarmed along the coast of the Labrador 
peninsula. The Eskimos and the Indians, the polar bears and 
the raptorial birds served but to keep the bird colonies in healthy 
condition. White man is more systematic in his methods and more 
thorough, especially when stimulated by the expectation of financial 
gain, and, if conservation is not practised, he will eventually exter¬ 
minate the creatures of his quest. This was true in the case of the 
buffalo and the passenger pigeon and the same fate awaits many 
other beasts and birds. 
In Audubon’s day the despoilers of Labrador bird rookeries plied 
their trade without let or hindrance. Audubon, in his visit to the 
southern coast in 1833, was filled with horror on observing their 
cruel methods and their ruthless destruction of his beloved bird life. 
He writes: 
“See yon shallop, shyly sailing along; she sneaks like a thief, 
wishing, as it were, to shun the light of heaven. Under the lee of 
every rocky isle some one at the tiller steers her course. * * * 
There rides the filthy thing! The afternoon is half over. Her crew 
have thrown their boat overboard, they enter and seat themselves, 
each with a rusty gun. One of them sculls the skiff towards an 
island, for a century past the breeding-place of myriads of Guille¬ 
mots, which are now to be laid under contribution. At the approach 
of the vile thieves, clouds of birds rise from the rocks and fill the air 
around, wheeling and screaming over their enemies. Yet thousands 
remain in an erect posture, each covering its single egg, the hope of 
both parents. The reports of several muskets loaded with heavy 
shot are now heard, while several dead and wounded birds fall 
heavily on the rock, or into the water. Instantly all the sitting 
birds rise and fly off affrighted to their companions above, and hover 
in dismay over their assassins, who walk forward exultingly, and 
with their shouts mingling oaths and execrations. Look at them! 
See how they crush the chick within its shell, how they trample on 
every egg in their way with their huge and clumsy boots. Onward 
they go, and when they leave the isle, not an egg that they can find 
*Advance chapter of “In Audubon’s Labrador by Dr. C. W. Townsend. 
Published by permission of the author. 
