The country south and west of us was low and flat,
consisting of marshes, extending in a southerly direction more than thirty
miles. In this direction lies the famous Red Indians' Lake. It was now
near the middle of November, and the winter had commenced pretty severely
in the interior. The country was every where covered with snow, and, for
some days past, we had walked over the small ponds on the ice. The summits
of the hills on which we stood had snow on them, in some places, many feet
deep. The deer were migrating from the rugged and dreary mountains in the
north, to the low mossy barren, and more woody parts in the south; and we
inferred, that if any of the Red Indians had been at White Bay during the
past summer, they might be at that time stationed about the borders of the
low tract of country before us, at the _deer-passes_, or were employed
somewhere else in the interior, killing deer for winter provision. At
these passes, which are particular places in the migration lines of path,
such as the extreme ends of, and straights in, many of the large lakes--
the foot of valleys between high and rugged mountains--fords in the large
rivers, and the like---the Indians kill great numbers of deer with very
little trouble, during their migrations.
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