that went grinding by, the black smoke, and later the spars of the
mail steamer were seen over one of the numerous rocky little islets
that block the entrance to the bight. The steamer's flag assured us
that it was certainly the mail steamer, and many and anxious were the
surmises as to whether our rivals were on board, and earnest were the
prayers for a strong and favoring wind. It soon came, and we bowled
along at a rattling pace, our spirits rising as we could see the
steamer, in shore, gradually dropping astern. Towards night we neared
Domino Run, and losing sight of the steamer, which turned out to make
a stop at some wretched little hamlet that had been shut out from the
outer world for nine months, at about the same time lost our breeze
also. But the wind might rise again, and time was precious, so a
bright lookout was kept for bergs, and we drifted on through the
night. The next morning a fringe of islands shut our competitor from
sight, but after an aggravating calm in the mouth of the inlet, we
felt a breeze and rushed up towards Rigolette, only to meet the
steamer coming out while we were yet several hours from that place.

Here we had our first experience with the immense deer-flies of
Labrador. Off Mt. Gnat they came in swarms and for self-protection
each man armed himself with a small wooden paddle and slapped at them
right and left, on the deck, the rail, another fellow's back or head,
in fact, wherever one was seen to alight. The man at the wheel was
doubly busy, protecting himself, with the assistance of ready
volunteers, from their lance-like bites, and steering the quickly
moving vessel.

At last the white buildings and flag-staff which mark all the Hudson
Bay Co.'s posts in Labrador, came in sight, snugly nestled in a little
cove, beneath a high ridge lying just to the north-west of it, and