After Icebergs with a Painter A Summer Voyage to Labrador and Around Newfoundland.

The Alpine Berg.—Studies of its Southern Front.—Frightful Explosion and Fall of Ice.—Studies of the Western Side.—Our Play with the Moose Horns.—Splendor of the Berg at Sunset, 169

The Sail for St. Charles Mountain.—The Salmon Fishers.—The Cavern of St. Charles Mountain.—Burton’s Cottage.—Magnificent Scene from St. Charles Mountain.—The Painting of the Rip...

Sunday in Temple Bay.—Religious Services.—The Fisherman’s Dinner and Conversation.—Chateau.—The Wreck.—Winters in Labrador.—Icebergs in the Winter.—The French Officers’ Frolic w...

Evening Walk to Temple Bay Mountain.—The Little Iceberg.—Troubles of the Night, and Pleasures of the Morning.—Up the Straits.—The Pinnacle of the Last Iceberg.—Gulf of St. Lawre...

Windsor.—The Avon, and the Tide.—Steamer for St. Johns, New Brunswick.—Mines Basin.—Coast Scenery.—The Scene of Evangeline.—Parsboro.—The Bay of Fundy.—Nova Scotia and New Bruns...

“Why, after deer and trout among the Adirondack Mountains with John Cheeney, the Leather-stocking of those wilds, who kills his moose and panther with a pistol; or after salmon...

FRIDAY MORNING, _June 17, 1859_. Here we are on the edge of the Gulf-Stream, loitering in a fog that would seem to drape the whole Atlantic in its chilly, dismal shroud. We are...

TWENTY days, and most of them days of intense heat and sea-sickness, were spent on a brig from New York to the mouth of the Magdalena. In twenty minutes all that tedious voyage...

WE have now been lying for hours off Halifax. The fog appears to be in a profound slumber. Whistle, bell and big guns have no power to wake it up. The waves themselves have gone...

BE it known that the Merlin, the name in which our vessel delights, is a small propeller, with a screw wheel, and a crazy mess of machinery in the middle, which go far towards m...

Yesterday, at an early hour, we were entering Sydney Harbor, Cape Breton, with a tide from sea, and a flood of brightness from the sun. The lively waters, the grassy fields dott...

NEWFOUNDLAND seems to be wreathed with fogs forever. As a dwelling-place, this world certainly appears far from complete,—an argument for a better country. But yonder is the blu...

WHEN the mist dispersed, the rocky shores of Newfoundland were close upon our left,—lofty cliffs, red and gray, terribly beaten by the waves of the broad ocean. We amused oursel...

WEDNESDAY, _June 22, 1859_.—We are at Warrington’s, a genuine English inn, with nice rooms and a home-like quiet, where the finest salmon, with other luxuries, can be had at mod...

THURSDAY, _June 23_. We were stirring betimes, making preparations for our first venture after an iceberg. Unluckily, it was a Romish holiday, and every vehicle in town seemed t...

TORBAY, finely described in a recent novel by the Rev. R. T. S. Lowell, is an arm of the sea, a short, strong arm with a slim hand and finger, reaching into the rocky land, and...

THE sunshine was now streaming in at a bit of a window, and I went out to see what prospect of success. C——, who had left some little time before, was nowhere to be seen. The fo...

FRIDAY, _June 24_. Daylight, with the street noises, surprised me in the very midst of the sweetest slumbers. I had already learned that the summer daybreak, in these more north...

TO venture a geological remark: All these coast highlands correspond with the summits of the Alleghenies, and with those regions of the Cordilleras, C—— tells me, which are just...

SATURDAY, _June 25_. This has been a quiet day, mostly spent in making calls and social visits. At an early hour, in company with Mr. Newman, the consul, we visited the Church S...

MONDAY, _June 27_. We attended church, yesterday, at the cathedral, where we heard practical sermons and fine congregational singing. The evening was passed at the Bishop’s, whe...

WEDNESDAY, _June 29_. We are far advanced in our preparations for the voyage. Yesterday and to-day, we have been busily engaged, and now see the way clear for leaving to-morrow...

THURSDAY EVENING, _June 30_. At sea. I am now writing, for the first time to-day, by the candles on our table in the main cabin of the Integrity. We are sailing northward with a...

FRIDAY, _July 1_. The fog is so dense that the rigging drips as if it rained. In fact, if it be not the finest of all rain, then it is the thickest of all mists. C—— and I are s...

AT eight o’clock, our brave little pink-stern was lying at anchor in her haven, as quietly as a babe in its cradle, with the wind piping a pleasant lullaby in the rigging, and t...

SATURDAY, _July 2_. It is five o’clock, and the morning has kindled in the clouds its brightest fires. We are moving off to sea gracefully before a fair, light wind. The heart d...

AFTER noon, with the faintest breeze, and the sea like a flowing mirror. We have sailed by the most eastern promontories, Cape Bonavista and Cape Freels, and have now arrived at...

MONDAY MORNING, _July 4, 1859_. We were roused from our slumbers very suddenly, yesterday morning, by Mr. Hutchinson, in a loud and cheerful voice, telling us the pleasing news...

TWELVE o’clock. The day we celebrate. Three cheers! How we are after the iceberg. Upon getting near, we find it grounded in fifty fathoms of water, apparently storm-worn, and mu...

THE waves are crisp with a snowy mane, and the rocky shores of Twillingate are draped with splendid lights and shadows. While the seams and surfaces of the cliffs are strikingly...

TUESDAY, _July 5_. Off Cape St. John, with fog and head winds. We are weary of this fruitless beating about, and resolve to put into smooth water for the sake of relief from sea...

WE are making a round of calls on all the icebergs of Cape St. John, painting, sketching, and pencilling as we go. Our calls are cut short for the want of wind, and we lie becal...

THE sealers from St. Johns, for example, start upon their northern voyage, early in March, falling in with both ice and seals very frequently off the Capes of Conception and Tri...

WEDNESDAY, _July 6_. After a quiet night, with a mild and favorable breeze, the morning opens with the promise of a bright day. Our little cloud of sail is all up in the early s...

PAST Midnight. I have been up and watching forward for more than an hour, roused from my berth by the cry of ice. A large ship, with a cloud of sail, passed just across our head...

FIVE o’clock, P. M. What a pleasing contrast! We have been tossing nearly all day upon a rough, inclement ocean, and are now on the sunny, smooth waters of the bay, gliding west...

WE sit down upon the summit of Battle Island, after a zigzag scramble up its craggy side, and talk and sketch and scribble, as we rest and look upon the blue, barren sea, and th...

FRIDAY, _July 8, 1859_. A bright, cool morning. After breakfast at the parsonage, we went rambling again up and down the moss-covered fields of Battle Island, smelling the fine...

AFTER dinner. Mr. Hutchinson has placed at our service his parish vessel, at once a schooner and a row-boat, of which Captain Knight, of course, is master, and our men the sailo...

THE ALPINE BERG.—STUDIES OF ITS SOUTHERN FRONT.—FRIGHTFUL EXPLOSION AND FALL OF ICE.—STUDIES OF THE WESTERN SIDE.—OUR PLAY WITH THE MOOSE HORNS.—THE SPLENDOR OF THE BERG IN THE...

SATURDAY, _July 9_. We are abroad again on the rocky hills, fanned with the soft, summer wind, and blessed with the loveliest sunshine. The mosses sparkle with their sweet-scent...

AFTER dinner, upon the heights of Battle Island, gathering roots, plants, and mosses to carry home. We notice with pleasure the largest iceberg by far that we have ever yet seen...

SUNDAY EVENING, _July 10_. We have had a beautiful and interesting day. Early in the morning, flags were flying from the shipping, and from the tall staff in front of the church...

MONDAY, _July 11_. After icebergs in St. Michael’s Bay, was to have been the order of the morning. It lies northward forty miles, and usually abounds in icebergs of the largest...

TUESDAY, _July 12_. Cold as November, and a gale outside. After a late breakfast, we roam the hills of Cariboo, under the cliffs of which the Integrity now lies tied to the rock...

TWO o’clock P. M. The wind has moderated, and blows from the land. We sail out upon the eastern or ocean side of Great Island. This is not precisely the excursion proposed in th...

WEDNESDAY, _July 13_. We rise with the intention of spending the day in Belle Isle water to the south, around what we call the Great Castle Berg—an object, from the first, of ou...

LATE in the afternoon, and the breeze gone down. We are off on the gentle rollers of the Bay of St. Louis, after a low, broad iceberg, covering, say, an acre of surface, and gro...

THURSDAY, _July 14_. Off again for the Great Castle Berg. The passage from Battle Harbor into the south waters is a shallow, rocky lane, and furnishes very rare studies of color...

THE SAIL FOR ST. CHARLES MOUNTAIN.—THE SALMON FISHERS.—THE CAVERN OF THE ST. CHARLES MOUNTAIN.—BURTON’S COTTAGE.—MAGNIFICENT SCENE FROM ST. CHARLES MOUNTAIN.—THE PAINTING OF THE...

FRIDAY, _July 15_. This is another of the summer days of Labrador, with a soft, southerly wind, tempting one to ramble in spite of musquitoes and black flies, which, though few,...

SATURDAY, _July 16_. “Once more upon the waters, yet once more.” We were awakened from sound slumbers by the footsteps and voices of the men above, making ready for sea. It was...

THE painter is a model of industry, sketching and painting the bergs as we pass them. They are now clustered on the northern horizon, with a few exceptions. We have been for som...

WE are drifting to the north shore in spite of all that can be done, and positively have not been before in so great danger. Our anchor, with all the cable we have, would be swi...

SUNDAY IN TEMPLE BAY.—RELIGIOUS SERVICES.—THE FISHERMAN’S DINNER AND CONVERSATION.—CHATEAU.—THE WRECK.—WINTERS IN LABRADOR.—ICEBERGS IN THE WINTER.—THE FRENCH OFFICERS’ FROLIC W...

EVENING WALK TO TEMPLE BAY MOUNTAIN.—THE LITTLE ICEBERG.—TROUBLES OF THE NIGHT AND PLEASURES OF THE MORNING.—UP THE STRAITS.—THE PINNACLE OF THE LAST ICEBERG.—THE GULF OF ST. LA...

THE coast of Labrador was really fine, all the forenoon, and sometimes strikingly grand. It has lost something of the desolate and savage character it has about the Capes St. Lo...

NEWFOUNDLAND now lifts its blue summits along the southeast sky, a kind of Catskill heights, with here and there patches of snow, that recall to mind the White Mountain House. I...

TUESDAY, _July 19_. We have a brilliant morning and a favoring breeze, but a vexatious current. What a net of these currents has the tyrannous Neptune set around his beloved New...

WEDNESDAY, _July 20_. We have a misty morning, and a contrary wind. If there are any two words in English, that early fell in love and married, and have a numerous progeny, thos...

THURSDAY, _July 21_. After a boisterous night we are on deck again, and find a pleasant change in the wind. It is gray and rainy, but then our sails swell, and we rush southward.

FRIDAY, _July 22_. Sydney harbor. A bright morning, and the wind from the quarter where we should be happy to find it, were we going to sea. But, selfish souls! because it puts...

AT a sort of half-way house, the driver of the baggage-wagon stopped to feed and water, and I walked on alone, leaving the painter with his sketch-book. For a mile or more, the...

SATURDAY, _July 23_. We were off betimes, and trundling right merrily again along the hilly shores of Bras D’or, a much more expanded sheet of water than yesterday. At three o’c...

MONDAY, _July 25_. We are out “by the dawn’s early light,” and assist in getting our baggage upon the coach, as David Murdoch calls his two-horse covered wagon, which is to carr...

PLASTER COVE, a small village, and our dining-place, is at the main point of departure for Nova Scotia on the Strait of Canso, a river to all appearance, and not unlike the Niag...

TUESDAY, _July 26_. New Glasgow. We halt here for breakfast, after a sociable and merry ride of several hours from Antigonish, where, after a refreshing sleep, we were favored b...

IMMERSED in fog, and shut up in a small coach, three of us, a Prince Edward’s man and a gentleman from Newfoundland, rode at a round trot, with but two or three brief intermissi...

WINDSOR.—THE AVON AND THE TIDE.—THE STEAMER FOR ST. JOHNS, NEW BRUNSWICK.—MINES BASIN.—COAST SCENERY.—THE SCENE OF EVANGELINE.—PARSBORO.—THE BAY OF FUNDY.—NOVA SCOTIA AND NEW BR...