g headlands after the weary leagues
of unbroken sea. But approach to the shore was impossible. The whole
coastline was blocked with the 'great store of ice' that lay against
it. The ships ran southward and took shelter in a little haven about
five leagues south of the cape, to which Cartier gave the name St
Catherine's Haven, either in fond remembrance of his wife, or, as is
more probable, in recognition of the help and guidance of St Catherine,
whose natal day, April 30, had fallen midway in his voyage. The
harbourage is known to-day as Catalina, and lies distant, as the crow
flies, about eighty miles north-westward of the present city of St
John's in Newfoundland. Here the mariners remained ten days, 'looking
for fair weather,' and engaged in mending and 'dressing' their boats.

At this time, it must be remembered, the coast of Newfoundland was, in
some degree, already known. Ships had frequently passed through the
narrow passage of Belle Isle that separates Newfoundland from the coast
of Labrador. Of the waters, however, that seemed to open up beyond, or
of the exact relation of the Newfoundland coastline to the rest of the
great continent nothing accurate was known. It might well be that the
inner waters behind the inhospitable headlands of Belle Isle would
prove the gateway to the great empires of the East. Cartier's business
at any rate was to explore, to see all that could be seen, and to bring
news of it to his royal master. This he set himself to do, with the
persevering thoroughness that was the secret of his final success. He
coasted along the shore from cape to cape and from island to island,
sounding and charting as he went, noting the shelter for ships that
might be found, and laying down the bearing of the compass from point
to point. It was his intent, good pilot as he was, that those who
sailed after him should find it easy to sail on these coasts.

From St Catherine's Harbour the ships sailed on May 21 with a fine
off-shore wind that made it easy to run on a course almost due north.
As they advanced on this course the mainland sank again from sight, but
presently they came to an island. It lay far out in the sea, and was
surrounded by a great upheaval of jagged and broken ice. On it and
around it they saw so dense a mass of birds that no one, declares
Cartier, could have believed it who had not seen it for himself. The
birds were as large as jays, they were coloured black and white, and
they could sca