had been unable to catch the
schooner, which was equally unable to wait for him in the narrow
passage, and who had, therefore, to row all the way after us at the
top of his speed, and only caught us when we lay to to send off the
pilot; we made everything snug and started down the straits, hoping to
reach Canso without further delay.

[Last harbor in Labrador] That was not our fortune, however, for soon
the wind hauled ahead, and with a strong current against us it was
impossible to make any progress, so after jumping in a most lively
manner all day, in the chops of Belle Isle, we made a harbor for
the night at Chateau Bay, in almost the same spot where we had waited
two dreary days two months before. The next day we worked along the
coast, but at night again put in to what proved our last, as well as
our first harbor on the Labrador--Red Bay. Here we found a mail
steamer and were allowed irregularly to open the bag to Battle Harbor
and take out that which belonged to us, much to our delight, of course,
for it gave us news comparatively fresh, that is, not over a month
old, from home.

Here, also, we laid in a supply of the only fruit that Labrador
produces, called "bake apple." It is a berry of a beautiful waxen
color when ripe, otherwise looking much like a large raspberry, and
having a most peculiar flavor, which we learned to like, and grew very
fond of, when the berries were served, stewed with sugar. We had been
deprived of fresh fruit so long that we should probably have learned
to like anything, however odd its flavor, that had its general
characteristics.

Here, too, we again fell in with our little Halifax trader, which gave
us so hot a race to Halifax in the coming week, both vessels arriving
at Halifax within an hour of each other, after starting at the same
time from Red Bay and keeping within sight nearly all the time. At
length the wind came to the south, and we started, laying our course
west, along the Labrador shore, so as to get a windward position and
be able to "fetch" Canso when the wind came around to the west, as it
is certain to do at that season of the year, compelling us to "tack
ship" and stand right out against the stormy Gulf of St. Lawrence.
These southwesterly winds had been our dread, for they blow so
strongly and in September make the Gulf so rough that getting to
windward against them is impossible. Hence our satisfaction can be
imagined as we sped along the Labrador coast that day