ILLUSTRATIONS.

LABRADOR

Is an extensive triangular peninsula on the north-east coast of British North America, Lat. 50° to 62° N., Lon. 56° to 78° W.; bounded N. by Hudson's Straits, E. by the Atlantic, S.E. by the Strait of Belle Isle, separating it from Newfoundland, S. by the Gulf and River St. Lawrence and Canada, and W. by James' Bay and Hudson's Bay. Its area is estimated at 420,000 sq. miles. The vast interior, inhabited by a few wandering Nascopie Indians, is little known; the coast, mainly but sparsely peopled by Eskimoes, is rugged, bleak and desolate. Seals abound, and the sea is well stocked with cod and other fish. The wild animals include deer (caribou), bears, wolves, foxes, martens, and otters. The Eskimo dogs are trained to draw sledges, to which they are attached in teams of from eight to fourteen.

The temperature in winter ranges lower than that of Greenland, the thermometer often showing a minimum of 70° below freezing-point of Fahrenheit. The climate is too severe to ripen any cereals, and the flora is very limited.

The Moravian Mission to the Eskimoes on the north-east coast of Labrador was established in 1771 by a colony of brethren and sisters from England and Germany, who on July 1st reached Unity's Harbour, and at once began the erection of a station, calling it NAIN. An earlier attempt in 1752 under the direction of John Christian Erhardt had failed, the leader of the little band of missionaries and the captain of the ship, together with several men of the crew, having been killed by the natives. Five more stations were subsequently added—viz., ZOAR and HOPEDALE to the south, and OKAK, HEBRON, and RAMAH to the north of Nain. The distance from Ramah to Hopedale is about three hundred miles.

Since the year 1770, when the "Jersey Packet" was sent out on an exploratory trip, the Society for the Furtherance of the Gospel has maintained regular communication with Labrador by despatching each year a ship, specially devoted to this missionary object. Eleven different ships have been employed in this service, ranging from a little sloop of seventy tons to a barque of two hundred and forty tons. Of these only four were specially constructed for Arctic service, including the vessel now in use, which was built in the year 1861. She is the fourth of the Society's Labrador ships bearing the well-known name "THE HARMONY."

"THE HARMONY"

WITH THE HARMONY TO LABRADOR. ToC

NOTES OF A VISIT BY THE REV. B. LA TROBE.

What can a summer visitor tell of Labrador, that great drear land whose main feature is winter, the long severe winter which begins in October and lasts until June? I have been sailing over summer seas, where in winter no water is visible, but a wide waste of ice stretching thirty, forty, fifty or more miles from the snowy shores. In the same good ship "Harmony," I have been gliding between the innumerable islands of the Labrador archipelago and up the fine fjords stretching far inland among the mountains, but in winter those bays and straits and winding passages are all white frozen plains, the highways for the dog-sledge post from station to station. I have visited each of our six mission-stations, dotted at intervals of from forty to ninety miles along some 250 miles of the grand, rocky coast, but I have seen them in their brightest and sunniest aspect, and can only imagine how they look when stern winter has come to stay for months, and the thermometer frequently descends to forty, fifty, sixty, sometimes even seventy degrees below freezing point, Fahrenheit. I have spent happy, busy days in those Christian villages, nestling close by the shore under the shelter of one or another hill that cuts off the icy northern blasts of winter. But I can fancy that their ordinary aspect is very different to the bustle and interest of the "shiptime." I have enjoyed the kindly hospitality of successive mission-houses, one as neat and clean as the other. But I have seen none of them half buried, as they often are, in snowdrifts of fifteen or twenty feet deep. The summer sun sent down powerful rays into the windows of the pleasant guest-chamber usually facing southward, but in mid-winter the Okak mission-house lies in the shadow of a great hill for weeks, and at other stations the sun describes a low curve over the opposite mountains, and does little more than shed a feeble ray of cheer upon the mid-day meal.

One unpleasant experience of the warmer season I have shared with our missionaries, which they are spared in winter. That is the inconvenience of the swarms of mosquitoes and sand flies, which make them almost glad when the brief summer yields to a cooler autumn.

On the other hand many phases of Labrador life do not change with the season of the year, least of all the spiritual verities which there, as elsewhere, concern the welfare of the bodies and the souls of men, and the eternal principles which should rule the life that now is, as well as that which is to come. The Christian life of the dwellers in those mission-houses, and, thank God, of the goodly congregations gathered around them, has its source in a perennial fountain, flowing summer and winter from the upper sanctuary. This is the matter of main interest to my readers, therefore I will transcribe, or rather adapt, some diary pages, hoping they may convey correct impressions of the daily surroundings and local conditions under which our dear, self-denying missionaries are constantly toiling to win souls, and build up truly Christian congregations.

ARRIVAL AT HOPEDALE, THE SOUTHERN STATION.ToC

Hopedale, Zoar, Nain, Okak, Hebron, Raman; these are our Labrador mission-stations in order from south to north, and as we visited them in the "Harmony," with one exception. From Okak we went straight to Ramah, and returned southward to Hebron, whence we sailed for Europe. Each station consists of the mission premises and a group of Eskimo dwellings, situated on the shore of a bay, affording safe and convenient anchorage for the ship which brings supplies. From Hopedale to Ramah is about 250 miles, "as the crow flies," but the ship traverses a hundred miles more in its passages from place to place. The distances between the stations are about as follows:—

The accompanying log of our voyage gives a résumé of its history. I will take up my more detailed sketches on the day when we arrived at Hopedale, the southern station.

THE 119th VOYAGE OF THE SOCIETY'S VESSEL.ToC

(28th of present barque "Harmony.")

August 3rd, 1888. It is six weeks all but a day since we left London. We might have reached Hopedale three days ago, for we were within eighty miles. But a dense fog made it impossible to venture among the islands, where drift ice might be added to the dangers of rocks. So we have been driving to and fro for the last three days and nights over a high sea, studded with icebergs hidden from us by a thick white mist, which made everything wet and cold. It has been the least pleasant and most anxious part of our voyage hitherto. This morning the fog cleared away, and we could see how good the Lord had been to us, for the icebergs were still surrounding us, but had never been permitted to come nigh our vessel. (Not till later did we know how well He had not only protected but piloted us. Drift ice beset the whole coast, but during those three days it cleared away southward. Nor could we have reached Hopedale by the usual southerly route, past the Gull Island, even on August 3rd. The course by which we were taken, nolens volens, was the only one open).

As morning wore on our swift progress brought us to the outer islands, bare bleak rocks, at whose base the sea was breaking terrifically. The first was Ukalek (the hare), about equal distance from Nain, Zoar, and Hopedale. We turned southward, our good ship speeding along before a favourable breeze and rolling heavily. Many icebergs of all shapes and sizes were visible around our now widened horizon. Tremendous waves were beating against their gleaming white sides, and sending the spray high towards their towering pinnacles, in one case clean over a huge berg perhaps 150 feet high.

Presently the Eskimoes at their northern fishing-places caught sight of us. Yonder are two boats sailing from that barren island, and we can now see three or four Eskimoes in each. As we overtake them they fire their guns and shout. See, on that island to the right is a regular little encampment, two or three tents, and men, women, and children running about excitedly, waving their arms and hallooing. Soon they launch their boats and row after us. The Ship Hill has been visible for some time. Now we see the red roof of the mission-house, and the little cupola of the church. Thank God! the flag is flying at the mast-head, i.e., at the top of the station flagstaff; no death has occurred in the mission circle. Yonder Eskimoes on the rocks, congregated about their little cannon, fire their salutes and shout their welcome. Now we are sailing into the harbour. With mingled feelings I scan the mission-house. Yes, there are some of the missionaries at the door. They run down to the pier, launch their boat and are coming off to us, rowed by two men and two women. I recognize old Boaz from his photograph; and that is Verona, good faithful soul. But there are only Mrs. Dam, and the Brethren Kaestner, Asboe, and Hansen. Where are the rest? Mr. Bourquin has not arrived from Nain; no news from the North; Mr. Dam is ailing, and must return to Europe with us. Mrs. Asboe and Mrs. Kaestner await us, so we are soon off in the boat to get another warm welcome at the door of the mission-house, about half-past five.

HOPEDALE. (See next page.)

I am conducted to the guest-chamber, and ere long we meet at the tea table, around which the whole mission family is assembled with their visitors. First our gratitude is expressed for the many mercies to each and all, included in the safe arrival of the "Harmony," and then ensues a lively interchange of news and mutual interests.

HOPEDALE.ToC

I will content myself with a few explanations of the accompanying view of the station from the bay. In winter the aspect of the whole landscape would be very much whiter, and the foreground not water, but ice. The bare, rocky ship hill which forms the background still had considerable patches of snow when we arrived early in August, but it melted from day to day during our stay, for the summer sun asserts its power during its brief sway. The mission-house in the centre of the picture is connected with the church by a covered passage, and the building with the three gable-ends, on the other side of it, is the store. The gardens, really wonderful in results when the climate is considered, are situated at some distance to the rear of the mission premises. The Eskimo village lies mostly to the right, where only one or two log huts are visible in the picture. Some of the native houses are behind the mission premises, including that of Jonas and his capable wife Lydia, perhaps the neatest and best furnished home of an Eskimo to be found in Labrador. The three windows to the right of the front door of the mission-house belong to the rooms occupied by Mr. and Mrs. Asboe. If there be as much snow this winter as last, they may be in the dark, part of the time. The three centre windows of the upper story show Mr. Hansen's rooms, and on each side of these are the dwellings of Mr. and Mrs. Kaestner and Mr. and Mrs. Lundberg.

A STROLL "TO THE HEATHEN."ToC