motion was too disagreeable, and my mind was as troubled as the ocean.
We left Baie de Portage before five in the morning, with a good
breeze, intending to come to at Chevalier's settlement, forty-seven
miles; but after sailing thirty, the wind failed us, it rained and
blew, with a tremendous sea which almost shook the masts out of our
good vessel, and about eight we were abreast of Bonne Esperance; but
as our pilot knew as much of this harbor as he did of the others,
which means _nothing at all_, our captain thought prudent to stand off
and proceed to Bras d'Or. The coast we have followed is like that we
have hitherto seen, crowded with islands of all sizes and forms,
against which the raging waves break in a frightful manner. We saw few
birds, with the exception of Gannets, which were soaring about us most
of the day feeding on capelings, of which there were myriads. I had
three _Uria troile_ thrown overboard alive to observe their actions.
Two fluttered on top of the water for twenty yards or so, then dove,
and did not rise again for fully a hundred yards from the vessel. The
third went in head-foremost, like a man diving, and swam _under the
surface_ so smoothly and so rapidly that it looked like a fish with
wings. At daylight we found ourselves at the mouth of Bras d'Or
harbor, where we are snugly moored. Our pilot not knowing a foot of
the ground, we hoisted our ensign, and Captain Billings came to us in
his Hampton boat and piloted us in. Bras d'Or is the grand rendezvous
of almost all the fishermen that resort to this coast for codfish. We
found here a flotilla of about one hundred and fifty sail, principally
fore-and-aft schooners, a few pickaxes, etc., mostly from Halifax and
the eastern portions of the United States. There was a life and stir
about this harbor which surprised us after so many weeks of
wilderness and loneliness--the boats moving to and fro, going after
fish, and returning loaded to the gunwales, others with seines, others
with capelings for bait. A hundred or more were anchored out about a
mile from us, hauling the poor codfish by thousands; hundreds of men
engaged at cleaning and salting, their low jokes and songs resembling
those of the Billingsgate gentry. On entering the port I observed a
large flock of small Gulls, which species I could not ascertain, also
_Lestris_ of two species, one small and one large. As soon as
breakfast was over, the young men went ashore to visit Mr. Jones, the
owner of the Seal-fishing establishment here. He received them well--a
rough, brown Nova Scotia man, the lord of this portion of
Labrador--and he gave John and the others a good deal of information.
Four or five species of Grouse, the Velvet Duck, the _Anas
glacialis_,[221] and _Fuligula histrionica_,[222] the Wild Goose, and
others breed in the swampy deserts at the head waters of the rivers,
and around the edges of the lakes and ponds which everywhere abound.
He also knew of my coming. John and Coolidge joined parties and
brought me eight Red-polls, _Fringilla linaria_, old and young, which
I will draw to-morrow. Query, is it the same which is found in Europe?
Their note resembles that of the Siskin; their flight that of the
Siskin and Linnet combined. The young were as large as the old, and
could fly a mile at a stretch; they resort to low bushes along the
edges of ponds and brooks; the hunters saw more than they shot. They
brought also Savannah Finches, and White-crowned Sparrows. They saw a
fine female _Tetrao canadensis_, not quite so gray as the last; the
young flew well and alighted on trees and bushes, and John would not
allow any of them to be shot, they were so trusting. They saw a Willow
Grouse, which at sight of them, though at some distance, flew off and
flew far; on being started again, flew again to a great distance with
a loud, cackling note, but no whirr of the wings. They were within
three hundred yards of an Eagle, which, from its dark color and
enormous size and extent of wings, they took to be a female Washington
Eagle.[223] I have made many inquiries, but every one tells me Eagles
are most rare. It sailed away over the hills slowly and like a
Vulture. After drawing two figures of the female White-winged
Crossbill, I paid a visit to the country seat of Mr. Jones.[224] The
snow is still to be seen in patches on every hill around us; the
borders of the water courses are edged with grasses and weeds as rank
of growth as may be seen in the Middle States in like situations. I
saw a small brook filled with fine trout; but what pleased me best, I
found a nest of the Shore Lark; it was embedded in moss so much the
color of the birds, that when these sit on it, it is next to
impossible to observe them; it was buried to its full depth, about
seven inches,--composed outwardly of mosses of different sorts;
within, fine grass circularly arranged, and mixed with many large,
soft Duck feathers. These birds breed on high table-lands, one pair to
a certain district. The place where I found the nest was so arid, poor
and rocky that nothing grew there. We see the high mountains of
Newfoundland, the summits, at present, far above the clouds. Two weeks
since, the ice filled the very harbor where we now are, and not a
vessel could approach; since then the ice has sunk, and none is to be
seen far or near.
_July 27._ It has blown a tremendous gale the whole day; fortunately I
had two _Fringilla linaria_ to draw. The adult male alone possesses
those rich colors on the breast; the female has only the front head
crimson. They resemble the Cross-bills, notwithstanding Bonaparte,
Nuttall, and others to the contrary. John kept me company and skinned
fourteen small birds. Mr. Jones dined with us, after which the captain
and the rest of our party went off through the storm to Blanc Sablons,
four miles distant. This name is turned into "Nancy Belong" by the
fishermen, who certainly tell very strange tales respecting this
country. Mr. Jones entertained us by his account of travelling with
dogs during winter. They are harnessed, he says, with a leather
collar, a belly and back band, through the upper part of which passes
the line of sealskin, which is attached to the sledge, and acts for a
rein as well as a trace. An odd number of dogs always form the gang,
from seven up, according to the distance of the journey, or the weight
of the load; each dog is estimated to draw two hundred pounds, at a
rate of five or six miles an hour. The leader is always a well-broken
dog, and is placed ahead of the pack with a draught-line of from six
to ten fathoms' length, and the rest with gradually shorter ones, to
the last, which is about eight feet from the sledge; they are not,
however, coupled, as often represented in engravings, but are each
attached separately, so that when in motion they are more like a flock
of Partridges, all flying loosely and yet in the same course. They
always travel at a gallop, no matter what the state of the country may
be, and to go down-hill is both difficult and dangerous; and at times
it is necessary for the driver to guide the sledge with his feet, or
with a strong staff planted in the snow as the sledge proceeds; and
when heavily laden, and the descent great, the dogs are often taken
off, and the sledge glides down alone, the man steering with his toes,
and lying flat on his face, thus descending head-foremost like boys on
their sleds. The dogs are so well acquainted with the courses and
places in the neighborhood, that they never fail to take their master
and his sledge to their destination, even should a tremendous
snow-storm occur whilst under way; and it is always safer to leave
one's fate to the instinct which these fine animals possess than to
trust to human judgment, for it has been proved more than once that
men who have made their dogs change their course have been lost, and
sometimes died, in consequence. When travellers meet, both parties
come circuitously, and as slowly as possible towards each other, which
gives the separate packs the opportunity of observing that their
masters are acquainted, when they meet without fighting, a thing which
almost always occurs if the dogs meet unexpectedly. Mr. Jones lost a
son of fourteen, a few years ago, in a snow-storm, owing to the
servant in whose care he was, imprudently turning the dogs from their
course; the dogs obeyed the command and struck towards Hudson's Bay;
when the weather cleared the servant perceived his mistake, but alas!
too late; the food was exhausted, and the lad gradually sank, and died
in the arms of the man.
_July 28._ At daylight this morning the storm had abated, and although
it was almost calm, the sea was high, and the "Ripley" tossed and
rolled in a way which was extremely unpleasant to me. Breakfast over,
we all proceeded to Mr. Jones' establishment with a view to procuring
more information, and to try to have some of his men make Esquimaux
boots and garments for us. We received little information, and were
told no work could be done for us; on asking if his son, a youth of
about twenty-three, could be hired to guide some of us into the
interior some forty miles, Mr. Jones said the boy's mother had become
so fearful of accidents since the loss of the other son that he could
not say without asking her permission, which she would not grant. We
proceeded over the table-lands towards some ponds. I found three young
Shore Larks just out of the nest, and not yet able to fly; they hopped
pretty briskly over the moss, uttering a soft _peep_, to which the
parent bird responded at every call. I am glad that it is in my power
to make a figure of these birds in summer, winter, and young plumage.
We also found the breeding-place of the _Fuligula histrionica_ in the
corner of a small pond in some low bushes. By another pond we found
the nest of the Velvet Duck, called here the White-winged Coot; it was
placed on the moss among the grass, close to the water; it contained
feathers, but no down as others. The female had six young, five of
which we procured. They were about a week old, and I could readily
recognize the male birds; they all had the white spot under the eye.
Four were killed with one shot; one went on shore and squatted in the
grass, where Lincoln caught it; but I begged for its life, and we left
it to the care of its mother, and of its Maker. We also found the
breeding-place of _Fuligula glacialis_ by a very large pond; these
breed in companies and are shyer than in the States. The Pied
Duck[225] breeds here on the top of the low bushes, but the season is
so far advanced we have not found its nest. Mr. Jones tells me the
King Duck passes here northwards in the early part of March, returning
in October, flying high, and in lines like the Canada Goose. The Snow
Goose is never seen here; none, indeed, but oceanic species are seen
here. (I look on _Anas fusca_[226] as an oceanic species.) Mr. Jones
has never been more than a mile in the interior, and knows nothing of
it. There are two species of Woodpecker here, and only two, the
Three-toed and the Downy. When I began writing it was calm, now it
blows a hurricane, rains hard, and the sea is as high as ever.
_July 29._ Another horrid, stormy day. The very fishermen complain.
Five or six vessels left for further east, but I wish and long to go
west. The young men, except Coolidge, went off this morning after an
early breakfast to a place called Port Eau, eighteen miles distant, to
try to procure some Esquimaux dresses, particularly moccasins. I felt
glad when the boat which took them across the bay returned, as it
assured me they were at least on terra firma. I do not expect them
till to-morrow night, and I greatly miss them. When all our party is
present, music, anecdotes, and jokes, journalizing and comparing
notes, make the time pass merrily; but this evening the captain is on
deck, Coolidge is skinning a bird, and I am writing that which is
scarcely worth recording, with a horridly bad patent pen. I have to-day
drawn three young Shore Larks, _Alauda alpestris_, the first ever
portrayed by man. I did wish to draw an adult male, in full summer
plumage, but could not get a handsome one. In one month all these
birds must leave this coast, or begin to suffer. The young of many
birds are full-fledged, and scamper over the rocks; the Ducks alone
seem backward, but being more hardy can stay till October, when deep
snows drive them off, ready or not for their laborious journey. I saw
this afternoon two, or a pair, of the _Phalaropus hyperboreus_;[227]
they were swimming in a small fresh-water pond, feeding on insects,
and no doubt had their nest close by, as they evinced great anxiety at
my approach. I did not shoot at them, and hope to find the nest or
young; but to find nests in the moss is a difficult job, for the whole
country looks alike. "The Curlews are coming;" this is as much of a
saying here as that about the Wild Pigeons in Kentucky. What species
of Curlew, I know not yet, for none have been killed, but one of our
men, who started with John and party, broke down, and was sent back;
he assured me that he had seen some with bills about four inches long,
and the body the size of a Wild Pigeon. The accounts given of these
Curlews border on the miraculous, and I shall say nothing about them
till I have tested the fishermen's stories.[228] It is now calm, for a
wonder, but as cold as vengeance, on deck; we have a good fire in the
stove, and I am roasting on one side and freezing on the other. The
water of our harbor is actually coated with oil, and the bottom fairly
covered with the refuse of the codfish; the very air I breathe and
smell is impregnated with essence of codfish.
_July 30._ It was a beautiful morning when I arose, and such a thing
as a beautiful morning in this mournful country almost amounts to a
phenomenon. The captain and myself went off to an island and searched
for an _Alauda alpestris_, and found a good number of old and young,
associated, both equally wild. The young were led off with great care
by the adults, and urged to squat quietly till nearly within gunshot,
when at a "tweet" from the parent they took to the wing and were off.
These birds are very pugnacious, and attack a rival at once, when both
come to the scratch with courage and tenacity. I saw one beautiful
male in full summer dress, which I secured, and have drawn, with a
portion of moss. I intend to add two drawn in winter plumage. This
afternoon we visited Mr. Jones and his wife, a good motherly woman,
who talked well. Our young men returned from Port Eau fatigued, and,
as usual, hungry; complained, as I expected, of the country, the
climate, and the scarcity of birds and plants, and not a pair of
moccasins to be bought; so Lincoln and Shattuck are now barefooted.
They brought a _Lestris pomarinus_,[229] female, a full-grown young
Raven, and some Finches. Coolidge's party had some Lesser Red-polls,
several Swamp Sparrows, three small Black-cap Green Flycatchers,
Black-cap Warblers, old and young, the last fully grown, a _Fringilla
lincolnii_, and a Pine Grosbeak. They saw many Gulls of various
species, and also an iceberg of immense size. There is at Port Eau a
large fishing establishment belonging to fishermen who come annually
from the Island of Jersey, and have a large store with general
supplies. Ere I go to rest let me tell thee that it is now blowing a
young hurricane, and the prospect for to-morrow is a bad one. A few
moments ago the report of a cannon came to our ears from the sea, and
it is supposed that it was from the "Gulnare." I wish she was at our
side and snugly moored as we are.
_July 31._ Another horrid hurricane, accompanied with heavy rain. I
could not go on with my drawing either in the cabin or the hold,
though everything was done that could be thought of, to assist me in
the attempt; not a thing to relate, as not one of us could go on
shore.
_August 1._ Bras d'Or, Coast of Labrador.[230] I have drawn my
_Lestris pomarinus_, but under difficulties; the weather has quite
changed; instead of a hurricane from the east, we have had one all day
from the southwest, but no rain. At noon we were visited by an
iceberg, which has been drifting within three miles of us, and is now
grounded at the entrance of the bay; it looks like a large man-of-war
dressed in light green muslin, instead of canvas, and when the sun
strikes it, it glitters with intense brilliancy. When these transient
monuments of the sea happen to tumble or roll over, the fall is
tremendous, and the sound produced resembles that of loud, distant
thunder; these icebergs are common here all summer, being wafted south
with every gale that blows; as the winds are usually easterly, the
coast of Newfoundland is more free from them than that of Labrador. I
have determined to make a last thorough search of the mountain tops,
plains and ponds, and if no success ensues, to raise anchor and sail
towards the United States once more; and blessed will the day be when
I land on those dear shores, where all I long for in the world exists
and lives, I hope. We have been on shore for an hour for exercise, but
the wind blew so fiercely we are glad to return.
_August 2._ Noon. The thermometer has risen to 58 deg., but it has rained
hard all day; about dinner time a very handsome schooner from Boston,
the size of ours, called the "Wizard," commanded by Captain Wilcomb of
Ipswich, arrived, only nine days from Boston; but to our sorrow and
disappointment, not a letter or paper did she bring, but we learned
with pleasure that our great cities are all healthy, and for this
intelligence I thank God. The "Wizard" brought two young Italian
clerks as supercargo, who are going to purchase fish; they visited us
and complained bitterly of the cold and the general appearance of the
country. The retrograde migration of many birds has already commenced,
more especially that of the lesser species both of land and water
birds.
_August 3._ I was suddenly awakened last night about one o'clock by
the shock which our vessel received from the "Wizard," which had
broken her stern chain in the gale, which at that time was raging most
furiously. Our captain was up in a moment, the vessels were parted and
tranquillity was restored, but to John's sorrow, and my vexation, our
beautiful and most comfortable gig had been struck by the "Wizard,"
and her bows stove in; at daylight it rained hard and the gale
continued. Lincoln went on shore and shot some birds, but nothing of
importance. This afternoon we all went ashore, through a high and
frightful sea which drenched us to the skin, and went to the
table-lands; there we found the true Esquimau Curlew, _Numenius
borealis_, so carelessly described in Bonaparte's Synopsis. This
species here takes the place of the Migratory Pigeon; it has now
arrived; I have seen many hundreds this afternoon, and shot seven.
They fly in compact bodies, with beautiful evolutions, overlooking a
great extent of country ere they make choice of a spot on which to
alight; this is done wherever a certain berry, called here "Curlew
berry,"[231] proves to be abundant. Here they balance themselves,
call, whistle, and of common accord come to the ground, as the top of
the country here must be called. They devour every berry, and if
pursued squat in the manner of Partridges. A single shot starts the
whole flock; off they fly, ramble overhead for a great distance ere
they again alight. This rambling is caused by the scarcity of berries.
This is the same bird of which three specimens were sent to me by
William Oakes, of Ipswich, Mass. The iceberg has been broken into
thousands of pieces by the gale.
_August 4._ Still raining as steadily as ever; the morning was calm,
and on shore the mosquitoes were shockingly bad, though the
thermometer indicates only 49 deg. I have been drawing at the _Numenius
borealis_; I find them difficult birds to represent. The young men
went on shore and brought me four more; every one of the lads observed
to-day the great tendency these birds have, in squatting to elude the
eye, to turn the tail towards their pursuer, and to lay the head flat.
This habit is common to many of the _Tringas_, and some of the
_Charadrius_. This species of Curlew, the smallest I ever saw, feeds
on the berries it procures, with a rapidity equalled only by that of
the Passenger Pigeon; in an instant all the ripe berries on the plant
are plucked and swallowed, and the whole country is cleared of these
berries as our Western woods are of the mast. In their evolutions they
resemble Pigeons also, sweeping over the ground, cutting backward and
forward in the most interesting manner, and now and then poising in
the air like a Hawk in sight of quarry. There is scarcely any
difference in the appearance of the adult and the young. The _Alauda
alpestris_ of this season has now made such progress in its growth
that the first moulting is so forward that the small wing-coverts and
secondaries are already come, and have assumed the beautiful rosy
tints of the adults in patches at these parts; a most interesting
state of their plumage, probably never seen by any naturalist before.
It is quite surprising to see how quickly the growth is attained of
every living thing in this country, either animal or vegetable. In six
weeks I have seen the eggs laid, the birds hatched, their first moult
half over, their association in flocks, and preparations begun for
their leaving the country. That the Creator should have commanded
millions of delicate, diminutive, tender creatures to cross immense
spaces of country to all appearance a thousand times more congenial to
them than this, to cause them to people, as it were, this desolate
land for a time, to enliven it by the songs of the sweet feathered
musicians for two months at most, and by the same command induce them
to abandon it almost suddenly, is as wonderful as it is beautiful. The
fruits are now ripe, yet six weeks ago the whole country was a sheet
of snow, the bays locked in ice, the air a constant storm. Now the
grass is rich in growth, at every step flowers are met with, insects
fill the air, the snow-banks are melting; now and then an appearance
as of summer does exist, but in thirty days all is over; the dark
northern clouds will enwrap the mountain summits; the rivulets, the
ponds, the rivers, the bays themselves will begin to freeze; heavy
snowfalls will cover all these shores, and nature will resume her
sleeping state, nay, more than that, one of desolation and death.
Wonderful! Wonderful! But this marvellous country must be left to an
abler pen than mine to describe. The _Tringa maritima_[232] and
_Tringa pusilla_[233] were both shot in numbers this day; the young
are now as large as the old, and we see little flocks everywhere. We
heard the "Gulnare" was at Bonne Esperance, twenty miles west of us; I
wish she was here, I should much like to see her officers again.
_August 5._ This has been a fine day, no hurricane. I have finished
two Labrador Curlews, but not the ground. A few Curlews were shot, and
a Black-breasted Plover. John shot a Shore Lark that had almost
completed its moult; it appears to me that northern birds come to
maturity sooner than southern ones, yet the reverse is the case in our
own species. Birds of the Tringa kind are constantly passing over our
heads in small bodies bound westward, some of the same species which I
observed in the Floridas in October. The migration of birds is perhaps
much more wonderful than that of fishes, almost all of which go
feeling their way along the shores and return to the very same river,
creek, or even hole to deposit their spawn, as birds do to their
former nest; but the latter do not _feel_ their way, but launching
high in air go at once and correctly too, across vast tracts of
country, yet at once stopping in portions heretofore their own, and of
which they know by previous experiences the comforts and advantages.
We have had several arrivals of vessels, some so heavily loaded with
fish that the water runs over their decks; others, in ballast, have
come to purchase fish.