CHAPTER XI.

LABRADOR--ESQUIMAUX HALF-BREEDS--MORAVIAN BRETHREN--EUROPEAN

INHABITANTS--THEIR VIRTUES--CLIMATE--ANECDOTE.

The country denominated Labrador, extends from Esquimaux Bay, on

the Straits of Belleisle, to the extremity of the continent, Cape

Chudleigh, at the entrance of Hudson's Strait. The interior is

inhabited by two tribes of Indians, Mountaineers and Nascopies,

members of the Cree family. The coast was inhabited at one time by

Esquimaux only, but the southern part is now peopled by a mongrel race

of Esquimaux half-breeds, a few vagabond Esquimaux, and some English

and Canadian fishermen and trappers, who are assimilated to the

natives in manners and in mode of life. While the European inhabitants

adopt from necessity some of the native customs, the natives

have adopted so much of the European customs that their primitive

characteristics are no longer distinguishable; they cook their

victuals, drink rum, smoke and chew tobacco, and generally dress after

the European manner, especially the females, who always wear gowns.

They have also a smattering of French and English, and are great

proficients in swearing in both languages; nor do they seem ignorant

of the more refined arts of cheating, lying, and deceiving. Taking

everything into account, however, we may be surprised that their

manners are not more corrupt than they are.

A number of small trading vessels from the United States hover about

the coast during summer; the accursed "fire-water" constitutes a

primary article in their outfit, and is bartered freely for such

commodities as the natives may possess. These adventurers are

generally men of loose principles, and are ever ready to take the

advantage of their customers. The natives, however, are now so well

instructed that they are more likely to cheat than be cheated.

The Esquimaux inhabiting the northern parts of the coast differ in

every respect from their neighbours of the south. They have acquired

a knowledge of the Christian religion, together with some of the more

useful arts of civilized life, without losing much of their primitive

simplicity. The Moravian Brethren, those faithful "successors of the

Apostles," after enduring inconceivable hardships and privations for

many years, without the least prospect of success, at length succeeded

in converting the heathens, collecting them in villages around them,

and at the same time not only instructing them in things pertaining to

their eternal salvation, but in everything else that could contribute

to their comfort and happiness in the present life. There are four

different stations of the Brethren; Hopedale, Nain, O'Kok, and Hebron.

At each station there is a church, store, dwelling-house for the

Missionaries, and workshops for native tradesmen. The natives are

lodged in houses built after the model of their _igloes_, being the

best adapted to the climate and circumstances of the country, where

scarcely any fuel is to be had: the Missionaries warm their houses by

means of stoves.

The Brethren have much the same influence with their flocks as a

father among his children. Whatever provisions the natives collect

are placed at their disposal, and by them afterwards distributed in

such a manner as to be of the most general benefit; by thus taking

the management of this important matter into their own hands, the

consequences of waste and improvidence are guarded against, and the

means of subsistence secured.

In years of great scarcity the Brethren open their own stores, having

always an ample supply of provisions on hand, so that through their

fostering care the natives never suffer absolute want. The Brethren

have also goods for trading, which they dispose of at a moderate

profit; the profits accruing from the business are thrown into the

general funds of the institution. It is said they carry on trade in

every part of the world where they have missions. Their object is not

to acquire wealth for selfish purposes, but to extend the kingdom of

Christ on earth; to enlighten the nations; and by instructing them in

the knowledge of Divine truth, to "ameliorate their condition" in this

life, and secure their eternal happiness in the life to come.

From the paternal anxiety with which these good people watch over the

morals of their flocks, they discourage as much as possible the visits

of strangers; fearing that intercourse with them might open their eyes

to the allurements of vice. In spite of all their vigilance, however,

they have sometimes to deplore the loss of a stray sheep. It is an

established rule, moreover, with them, never to allow a stranger to

sleep within their gates; he is hospitably received and treated with

kindness and attention, but on the approach of evening he is apprised

that he must shift for himself: care is taken, however, to provide him

with lodgings in one of the native huts, where he can pass the night

in tolerable comfort. Should he not be pleased with his treatment, he

is at liberty to depart when he pleases.

The European inhabitants of Labrador are for the most part British

sailors, who, preferring the freedom of a semi-barbarous life and the

society of a brown squaw, to the severity of maritime discipline and

the endearments of the civilized fair, take up their abode for life in

this land of desolation.

In course of time the gay frolicksome sailor settles down into the

regular grave father of a family; and by sobriety and good conduct,

may ultimately secure a comfortable home for his old age. Jack's

characteristic thoughtlessness, however, sometimes adheres to him even

when moored on dry land; and when this is the case, his situation is

truly miserable.

They pass the summer in situations favourable for catching salmon,

which they barter on the spot with the stationary traders for such

commodities as they are in want of. When the salmon fishing is at

an end, they proceed to the coast for the purpose of fishing cod for

their own consumption, and return late in autumn to the interior,

where they pass the winter trapping fur animals.

The planters, as they are designated, live in houses which they

call "tilts," varying in shape and size according to the taste or

circumstances of the owner. These buildings are generally formed of

stakes driven into the ground, chinked with moss, and covered with

bark; they are always warmed with stoves, otherwise the _igloe_ would

afford more comfort.

The half-breeds live in much the same way as their European

progenitors; they are generally sober and industrious; and although

unacquainted with any particular form of religious worship, they

evince, in their general deportment, a greater regard to the precepts

of Christianity than many who call themselves Christians. They are

entirely free from the crimes that disgrace civilized life, and are

guilty of few of its vices; should a frail fair, however, make a _faux

pas_, it is no bar to her forming a matrimonial connexion afterwards.

The women are much fewer than the men, and on this account a greater

indulgence may be extended to their faults than otherwise would be.

I was surprised to find them all able to read and write, although

without schools or schoolmasters. The task of teaching devolves

upon the mother; should she (what seldom happens) be unqualified, a

neighbour is always ready to impart the desired instruction.

The Esquimaux half-breeds are both industrious and ingenious; they

are at a loss for nothing. The men make their own boats, and the women

prepare everything required for domestic convenience; almost every

man is his own blacksmith and carpenter, and every woman a tailor and

shoemaker. They seem to possess all the virtues of the different races

from which they are sprung--except courage; they are generally allowed

to be more timid than the natives. But if not courageous, they possess

virtues that render courage less necessary; they avoid giving offence,

and are seldom, therefore, injured by others.

The Hudson's Bay Company obtained a footing here a few years ago, by

buying out some of the petty traders, whose operations extended to the

interior, and consequently interfered with the hopeful Ungava scheme;

independently, however, of this consideration, expectations were

entertained that Labrador might become the seat of a profitable branch

of the business, from its various resources in fish, oil, and furs.

These expectations were not realized, owing to the strong competition

the Company met with; while their interference in the trade subjected

them to the charge of "grasping ambition," a charge which appears but

too well founded, considering the monopoly they possess of the whole

fur trade of the continent. "Plus le D----e a, plus il voudrait

avoir," is an old adage; nor have we any reason to believe that any

other mercantile body would be less ambitious of increasing their

gains, than their _honours_ of Fenchurch-street.

There are several establishments along the coast, belonging chiefly to

merchants from Plymouth and Dartmouth, who carry on the salmon and cod

fisheries on an extensive scale, and traffic also with the planters.

This business was at one time considered very lucrative; of late

years, however, competition has increased from all quarters, and

prices in the European market have diminished, so that the profits are

now greatly reduced.

The climate of the southern section of Labrador is by no means severe;

the thermometer, even in the coldest months of the year, seldom

falling lower than 30° below zero. Along the shores of Esquimaux Bay,

a few spots have been found favourable for agriculture, and potatoes

and other culinary vegetables have been raised in abundance. Grain,

especially oats and barley, would doubtless also thrive; it so

happens, however, that the inhabitants are under the necessity of

devoting their attention to other pursuits during the season of

husbandry; so that the few that attempt "gardening," derive small

benefit from it. They sow their seed before starting for the coast,

and leave nature to do the rest.

I shall close my description of Labrador by narrating a rather

tragical event that occurred a few years ago. An old fisherman,

formerly a sailor, and his only son by an Esquimaux squaw, lived

together in the greatest amity and concord. The son, after the death

of his mother, attended to domestic affairs, and also assisted his

father at out-door's work. As the fishing season approached, however,

it was considered expedient to hire a female, so that they might give

their undivided attention to the fishing. The girl had not remained

long with them, when her charms began to make an impression on Jack's

still sensitive heart; the son also became enamoured; both paid their

addresses, and, as a matter of course, the young man was preferred.

The demon of jealousy now took possession of the father's breast; and

his conduct became so violent and cruel, that his son determined on

parting company with him and carrying off the girl. Seizing the only

boat that belonged to his father, he slipped away under cover of night

with his companion, and put ashore on the first island they found. A

violent storm arose in the course of the night, and either dashed the

boat to pieces on the rocks, or carried her out to sea; and thus the

unfortunate lovers were left to their fate. This event happened late

in autumn. The winter passed without any word being heard of the

lovers; in the ensuing spring their bodies were found clasped in each

other's arms, and the young man's gun close by with fifteen notches

cut in the stock, supposed to mark the number of days they suffered

ere relieved by death.

Notes of a Twenty-Five Years' Service in the Hudson's Bay Territory. Volume II. · 第 11 / 22 章