CHAPTER I THE OLDEST BRITISH COLONY

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It would not be an exaggeration to say that Newfoundland, although it is the most ancient of the British Colonies, is less known and understood in Great Britain than any of her oversea possessions. It is generally believed that Newfoundland is somewhere in the Arctic Circle; that the inhabitants are clothed in furs, live in snow huts, feed on codfish; and that for six months of the year the island is unapproachable on account of barriers of ice and impenetrable fogs. This is altogether untrue.

If you consult a map of British North America, you will see that Newfoundland is an island a little to the north-east of Nova Scotia, in Canada. It stretches right across to the entrance of the Gulf of St. Lawrence, its south-western projection being only sixty miles from Cape Breton, from which point Canadians may reach the island in about six hours by crossing the Cabot Straits. The eastern coast of Newfoundland is 1,640 miles from Ireland, and the fastest “liner” crossing the Atlantic would cover the journey in from three to four days, although the steamships at present plying between Great Britain and the Colony are usually seven days accomplishing the voyage.

Upon first looking at the map of the Colony, you are at once impressed by the similarity of its physical features to England or Scotland. If you were to cut off the two peninsulas at the south-east corner, from Trinity Bay to Fortune Bay, the remaining land would not be at all unlike England.

The coast of Newfoundland is extremely rugged, and you will get an idea of the number and size of the bays if you bear in mind that the coast-line at present, measured from headland to headland, is about 1,000 miles; whereas, if the bays were straightened out, there would be a coast-line of probably 2,000 miles. Some of the bays are very deep, and the huge, high rocks towering above them present a picturesque and majestic appearance. There is, perhaps, no country in the world that has such secure natural harbours. These land-locked harbours are a great boon to the fishermen, for when the long, rolling waves of the Atlantic are eager to devour any vessels that may be in their way, the slender craft of the fishermen are securely nestled between a couple of immovable jutting headlands. On a map of North America Newfoundland usually looks very small. Of course, in comparison with the United States and Canada, it is small. An idea of its size is best obtained by comparing it with Ireland, than which country it is said to be about one-fifth larger. Its breadth is about fifty miles greater than England, and its length 140 miles less. About one-fourth of the island’s surface is covered by water, so that one naturally expects to see many rivers, lakes, and ponds. Three large rivers are the Gander, the Exploits, and the Humber, all of which are teeming with what are considered to be the finest salmon in the world. Every summer British and American tourists flock to these rivers, for not only can excellent fishing be obtained, but absolute quiet and magnificent scenery are always to be enjoyed by those who seek sport, health, and rest from the dust and din of ordinary workaday life. Lakes, too, are very numerous, and to view sixty to seventy of them from the summit of a mountain is a scene never to be forgotten by the beholder. As these lakes are invariably surrounded by spruce and fir trees, their existence may never be known to the traveller unless he happen to be on some eminence far above the common track of the ordinary pedestrian. One striking feature in connection with many of the lakes is the secluded hollows in which they are to be found on the tops of the high hills, as though they had determined that their beauty should not be enjoyed without the effort of climbing on the part of the seeker of placid waters. When the climber reaches the crest of a high hill, it is quite a common experience to be unexpectedly confronted by a circle of water, from which scores of seagulls rise, startled by the intrusion of a stranger upon their solitary retreat.

Although there are no very lofty mountains in the island, there are numerous ranges of high hills, the Long Range extending for quite 200 miles in a north-easterly direction from Cape Ray. In the winter the hills present a beautiful appearance, with their innumerable white heads peering above the clumps of spruce and fir trees, the charm of the bright blue being greatly enhanced by the contrast. But they are most beautiful in autumn, when the undergrowth begins to change its colour, and the leaves of the wild berries put on their glamorous robes of scarlet.

However, as a chapter will be devoted to the scenery of this ancient island, we will pass on to an account of the early races, together with the present inhabitants, their mode, of living and the means by which they obtain a livelihood.


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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