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But they do not enjoy even the elementary right of protection from depredation committed by men who have no claim on Canada at all. Let me add that by this I do not mean for one moment to abuse my friends the Newfoundlanders. A kindlier people I have never met. Nor do I mean to abuse the Americans and Nova Scotians who sometimes slink inside the three-mile limit.
"Them Newfoundlanders would puzzle the London detective police, I believe they are the most knowin' coons in all creation, don't you?"
After the manner of the Newfoundlanders they had already fed and cared for the comfort of their wearied dogs, before giving thought to themselves, staggering with fatigue as they were. "Go into the hospital and get your dinner," directed the Doctor. "When you've eaten, go to bed. We'll call you when we think it's safe to start."
If a dog kills sheep, and them Newfoundlanders are most uncommon fond of mutton, I must say, he never attacks his neighbour's flock, for he knows he would be suspected and had up for it, but sets off at night, and makes a foray like the old Scotch on the distant borders.
But I do mean to draw attention to the regrettable fact that the absence of all wild-life conservation is becoming ruinous to everyone concerned even to the exterminating Newfoundlanders, who are now making our shores as bleak a desert as they have made their own. Of course the Canadian Labrador should help itself. Let it form a "Neighbourhood Improvement Association" under the Commission.
They are the "Labrador fishermen," and they come from South Newfoundland, from Nova Scotia, from Gloucester, and even Boston. Some Newfoundlanders take their families down and leave them in summer tilts on the land near the fishing grounds during the season.
The electioneering agents forthwith found they needed a sensational popular platform, and this platform has ended by becoming something like the "Irredenta" movement in Italy, a claim for national rights over the national soil. "Newfoundland for the Newfoundlanders." There lies the whole of the Newfoundland Question.
A furtive woman comes up the hatchway and gazes with shaded eyes at passing steamers; but the men are out in the clumsy black dories that rock like a cradle to the swell of the sea, drawing in drawing in the line; or singing their sailor chanties "Come all ye Newfoundlanders" as meal of pork and cod simmers in a pot above a chip fire cooking on stones in the bottom of the boat.
But "egging" still goes on in other ways, especially at the hands of Newfoundlanders, who are wantonly wasteful in their methods, unlike the coast people, who only take what the birds will replace. The Newfoundlanders and other strangers gather all the eggs they see, put them into water, and throw away every one that floats.
We found the surroundings and people unique and interesting. There were lumbermen, trappers, and fishermen a motley gathering of Newfoundlanders, Nova Scotians, Eskimos and "breeds," the latter being a comprehensive name for persons whose origin is a mixture in various combinations and proportions of Eskimo, Indian, and European.
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