LABRADOR

But in spite of all these and many other difficulties, I firmly

believe that Labrador is by far the best country in the world for the

best kinds of sanctuary. The first time you're on a lee shore there,

in a full gale, you may well be excused for shrinking back from the

wild white line of devouring breakers. But when you actually make for

them you find the coast opening into archipelagoes of islands, to let

you safely through into the snug little "tickles," between island and

mainland, where you can ride out the storm as well as you could in a

landlocked harbour. This is typical of many another pleasant surprise.

Labrador decidedly improves on acquaintance. The fogs have been

grossly exaggerated. The Atlantic seaboard is clearer than the British

Isles, which, by the way, lie in exactly the same latitudes. And the

Gulf is far clearer than New Brunswick, Nova Scotia and the Banks. The

climate is exceptionally healthy, the air a most invigorating tonic,

and the cold no greater than in many a civilized northern land.

Besides, there is a considerable range of temperatures in a country

whose extreme north and south lie 1,000 miles apart, one in the

latitude of Greenland, the other in that of Paris. Taking the Labrador

peninsula geographically, as including the whole area east of a line

run up the Saguenay and on from lake St. John to James bay, it

comprises 560,000 square miles--eleven Englands! The actual residents

hardly number 20,000. About twice as many outsiders appear off the

coasts at certain seasons. So it would take a tenfold increase, afloat

and ashore, to make one human being to each square mile of land. But,

all the same, wild life needs conservation there, and needs it badly,

as we shall presently see.

Most of Labrador is a rocky tableland, still rising from the depths,

with some old beaches as much as 1,500 feet above the present level of

the sea. The St. Lawrence seaboard is famous for its rivers and

forests. The Atlantic seaboard has the same myriads of islands, is

magnificently bold, is pierced by fiords unexcelled in Norway, and

crowned by mountains higher than any others east of the Rockies.

Hamilton inlet runs in 150 miles. At Ramah the cliffs rise sheer three

thousand five hundred feet and more. The Four peaks, still untrodden

by the foot of man, rise more than twice as high again. And the

colouration, of every splendid hue, adds beauty to the grandeur of the

scene. Inland, there are lakes up to 100 miles long, big rivers by the

score, deep canyons and foaming rapids--to say nothing of the

countless waterfalls, of which the greatest equals two Niagaras. This

vast country is accessible by sea on three sides, and will soon be

accessible by land on the fourth. It lies directly half-way between

Great Britain and our own North West and is 1,000 miles nearer London

than New York is. Its timber, mines and water-power will be

increasingly exploited. It should also become increasingly attractive

to the best type of tourist, naturalist and sportsman. But supposing

all this does happen. The mines, water-powers and lumbering will only

create small towns and villages. There will surely be some

conservation to have the forests used and not abused especially by

fire: and the white man should remember that he is the worst of all in

turning a land from green to black. Except in the southwest and a few

isolated spots, the country cannot be farmed. At the same time, the

urban population must have communications with the outside world, by

which regular supplies can come in. This will make the settlers

independent of wild life for necessary food; and wild life, in any

case, would be too precarious if exploited in the usual way. The

traders in wild-animal products, as well as the naturalists, sportsmen

and tourists, are interested in keeping the rest of the country well

stocked. So that, one way and another, the human and wild-animal life

will not conflict, as they do where farming creates a widespread rural

population, or wanton destruction of forests ruins land and water, and

human and animal life have to suffer for it afterwards. All the

different places required for business spheres of influence in the

near future, added to all the business spheres of the present, can

hardly exceed the area of one whole England, especially if all

suitable areas are not thrown open simultaneously to lumbering, at the

risk of the usual bad results. So there will remain ten other

Englands, admirably fitted, in all respects, to grow wild life in the

most beneficial abundance, and quite able to do so indefinitely, if a

reasonable amount of general protection is combined with well-situated

sanctuaries.

The fauna is much more richly varied than people who think of

Labrador as nothing but an arctic barren are inclined to suppose. The

fisheries have been known for centuries, especially the cod, which has

a prerogative right to the simple word "fish." There are herring and

lobsters in the Gulf, plenty of salmon and trout in most of the

rivers, winninish in all the tributary waters of the Hamilton, as well

as in lake St. John, whitefish in the lakes, and so forth. Then, the

stone-carrying chub is one of the most interesting creatures in the

world.... But the fish and fisheries have problems of their own too

great for incidental treatment; and I shall pass on to the birds and

mammals.

Yet I must not forget the "flies"--who that has felt them once can

ever forget them? Labrador is not a very happy hunting-ground for the

entomologist. But all it lacks in variety of kinds it more than makes

up in number of individuals, especially in the detestable trio of

bot-flies, blackflies and mosquitoes. The bot-fly infests the caribou

and will probably infest the reindeer. The blackfly and mosquito

attack both man and beast in maddening millions. The mosquito is not

malarious. But that is the only bad thing he is not. Destruction is

"conservation" so far as "flies," parasites and disease germs are

concerned.

Labrador has over 200 species of birds, from humming-birds and

sanderlings to eagles, gannets, loons and herons. Among those able to

hold their own, with proper encouragement, are the following: two

loons, two murres, the puffin, guillemot, razor-billed auk, dovekie

and pomarine jæger; six gulls--ivory, kittiwake, glaucous, great

black-back, herring and Bonaparte; two terns--arctic and common; the

fulmar, two shearwaters, two cormorants, the red-breasted merganser

and the gannet; seven ducks--the black, golden-eye, old squaw and

harlequin, with the American, king and Greenland eiders; three

scoters; four geese--snow, blue, brant and Canada; two phalaropes,

several sandpipers, with the Hudsonian godwit and both yellowlegs; two

snipes; five plovers; and the Eskimo and Hudsonian curlews. These two

curlews should be absolutely closed to all shooting everywhere for

several seasons. They are on the verge of extinction; and it may even

now be too late to save them. The great blue heron and American

bittern are not common, but less rare than they are supposed to be.

Except for the willow and rock ptarmigans the land game-birds are not

many in kind or numbers. There are a fair number of ruffed grouse in

the south, and more spruce grouse in the north. The birds of prey are

well represented by a few golden and more bald-headed eagles, the

American rough-legged and other hawks, the black and the white

gyrfalcons, the osprey, and eight owls, including the great horned

owl, the boldest bird of all. The raven is widely distributed all the

year round. Several woodpeckers, kingfishers, jays, bluebird,

kingbird, chickadee, snow bunting; several sparrows, including,

fortunately, the white-crowned, white-throat and song, but now,

unfortunately, the English as well. There are blackbirds, red-polls, a

dozen warblers, the American robin, hermit thrush and ruby-throated

humming-bird.

Both the land and sea mammals are of great importance. Several whales

are well known. The Right is almost exterminated; but the Greenland,

or Bow-head, is found along the edge of the ice in all Hudsonian

waters. The Pollock is rare, and the Sperm, or Cachalot, as nearly

exterminated as the Right. But the Little-piked, or _rostrata_, is

found inshore along the north and east, the Bottle-nose on the north,

the Humpback on the east and south; and the Finback and Sulphur-bottom

are common and widely distributed, especially on the east. The Little

White whale, or "White porpoise," is fairly common all round; the

Killer is widely distributed, but most numerous on the east, where the

Narwhal is also found. The Harbour and Striped porpoises, and the

Common and Bottle-nosed dolphins, are chiefly on the east and south.

There are six Seals--the Harbour, Ringed, Harp, Bearded, Grey and

Hooded. The Harbour seal is also called the "Common" and the "Wise"

seal, and is the _vitulina_ of zoology. It is common all round the

coasts, and the Indians of the interior assert that many live

permanently in the lakes. Big and Little Seal lakes are more than 100

miles from the nearest salt water. The Ringed seal is locally called

"floe rat" and "gum seal." It is the smallest and least valuable of

all, and fairly common all round. The Harp seal is "seal," in the same

way as cod is "fish." It has various local names, five among the

French-Canadians alone, but is specifically known as the Greenland

seal. The young, immediately after birth, have a fine white coat,

which makes them valuable. The herds are followed on a large scale at

the end of the winter season, which is also the whelping season, and

hundreds of thousands are killed, females and young preponderating.

They are still common along the east and south, but diminishing

steadily, especially in the St. Lawrence. The Bearded, or

"Square-flipper," seal is rare in the St. Lawrence and on the

Atlantic, but commoner in Hudsonian waters. It is a large seal, eight

feet long, and bulky in proportion. The Grey, or Horse-head, seal

runs up to about the same size occasionally and is one of the gamest

animals that swims. It is rare on the Atlantic and not common anywhere

on the St. Lawrence. The "Hoods" are the largest of all and the lions

of the lot. They run up to 1,000 pounds and over, and sometimes

fourteen feet long. They are rare on the Atlantic and decreasing along

the St. Lawrence, owing to the Newfoundland hunters. The Walrus,

formerly abundant all round, is now rarely seen except in the far

north, where he is fast decreasing.

Moose may feel their way in by the southwest to an increasing extent,

and might possibly be reinforced by the Alaskan variety. Red deer

might possibly be induced to enter by the same way in fair numbers

over a limited area. The woodland caribou is almost exterminated, but

might be resuscitated. The barren-ground caribou is still plentiful in

the north, where most of the herds appear to migrate in an immense

ellipse, crossing from west to east, over the barrens, in the fall, to

the Atlantic, and then turning south and west through the woods in

winter, till they reach their original starting-point near Hudson bay

in the spring. But this is not to be counted on. The herds divide,

change direction, and linger in different places. Their tame brother,

the reindeer, is being introduced as the chief domestic animal of

Eastern Labrador, with apparently every prospect of success. Beaver

are fairly common and widely distributed in forested areas. Other

rodents are frequent--squirrels, musk-rats, mice, voles, lemmings,

hares and porcupines. There are two bats. Black bears are general;

polars, in the north. Grizzlies have been traded at Fort Chimo in

Ungava, but they are probably all killed out. The lynx is common

wherever there are woods. There are two wolves, arctic and timber, the

latter now rare in the south. The Labrador red fox is very common in

the woods, and the "white," or arctic fox, in the barrens and further

south on both coasts. The "cross," "silver" and "black" variations of

course occur, as they naturally increase towards the northern limits

of range. The "blue" is a seasonal change of the "white." The

wolverine and otter are common. The skunk is only known in the

southwest. The mink ranges through the southern third of the

peninsula. The Labrador marten, or "sable," is a sub-species,

generally distributed in the forested parts, like the weasel. The

"fisher," or Pennant's marten, is much more local, ranging only

between the "North Shore" and Mistassini.

From the St. Lawrence to the Barren Grounds three-fourths of the land

has been burnt over since the white man came. The resultant loss of

all forms of life may be imagined, especially when we remember that

the fire often burns up the very soil itself, leaving nothing but

rocks and black desolation. Still, there is plenty of fur and feather

worth preserving. But nothing can save it unless conservation replaces

the present reckless destruction.