But no picture of the Doctor or of his Labrador can be complete without that other, fourth and great principle of life by which he lives-Play. His athletic days at Oxford were many years ago, but even today he excels in sports, relishes each new chance to play a game, and admires, without reserve, the athletes of all times. And here again the Strathcona offers an outlet, an adventure in the field of sport. At Muddy Bay, near Cartwright, when all hands were tired from long hard runs, we slipped from our anchorage and sailed to the bottom of Sandwich Bay, where the Eagle River enters. There, after a mile of rapids, the river broadens into a wide deep pool with sluggish waters and a waterfall above. Such a day of salmon fishingthe integrity of the most honest fisherman would be at stake if the truth of that day's catch were told.

At Northwest River, the winter post of Dr. Paddon, the Montaignois Indians from Central Labrador come out, each spring, for supplies, and to meet their priest from St. John's. They are sadly in need of medical care, and their old chief is fast succumbing to tuberculosis. While there one of the Doctor's bursts of sportive genius broke loose, when he suggested that we revive the old White Man-Indian struggle as a friendly shooting match, between us and the tribe. There was enthusiasm on both sides, a moving target was strung up some two hundred yards off shore, and we let fire. It was a grand success, and the Doctor kept peace by an appropriate distribution of trophies. So he is forever alert for an opportunity "to keep his body fit and to excel in clean sport without neglect of work or patients.”

Little more need be said, for the work which has grown and spread over Newfoundland and Labrador is itself the realization of a life of accomplishment. Labrador and Grenfell are synonymous. Labrador, a laborer's land, where his years of hard and strenuous work have been mixed with devotion and a will to believe that Christ's teachings are the Way of Life. He stands out as a figure beloved by those among whom he has lived, a man with courage, fearlessness, and determination, and one whose simplicity of mind and spirit has lent itself to those about him.

His humor ever delights those who are with him and brings color and refreshment into every day. His absent mindedness

is fascinating, and covered with a genuine naïvety which cannot bring offense to others. Often he has chuckled over slips that might have brought only consternation.

And Lady Grenfell-her advice and wisdom and enthusiasm have ever been a support and encouragement to the Doctor. Her untiring energy has taken a thousand burdens from his shoulders and her hospitality knows no bounds. Together, what a great pair they are!

So through these years in Labrador, Sir Wilfred Grenfell has found greater and greater joy in living, and the fun of accomplishment has brought conquest with it. He may well be called "the best beloved missionary in the world."

BLOOD MONEY FOR EAGLES

BY ARTHUR NEWTON PACK

President, American Nature Association

In all ages and among many nations the eagle has been proclaimed the king of birds. In the ancient mythology this bird was held sacred to Jove. As one who had dominion over the very seasons, and held in his grasp the lightning, it was fitting that this ruler of gods and men should have under his special protection this bird of the upper air, indifferent to cold, fearless of mien, master of all other birds. In early times the eagle, represented in various parts of the world by different species, was held in peculiar awe by many peoples, and was chosen as their national emblems. The Romans, following the example of the Assyrians or Persians, made it their ensign. More modern nations— France, Prussia, and others—also chose it to adorn their standards. So what more natural than that our forefathers, finding here a fine species peculiar to North America, should formally choose the White-Headed Eagle, called also from its shining head the Bald Eagle, to serve as our emblem?

The range of this magnificent bird, practically co-extensive with continental North America, helps to make it peculiarly suitable as a symbol for our people, for it exists in all our States, and therefore may come within the personal ken of every citizen. But so little reverence has been paid the bird that it is now scarce or practically unknown over great areas. Such a condition is probably inevitable in a country where settlement by cosmopolitan races, with all the conditions that go with it, has been so rapid as in our own, but we believe that history does not furnish another instance where a country or State has put a price on the head of the species chosen for its emblem. Yet such a state of affairs is present in Alaska, a section where the bird attains its maximum size and is more abundant than elsewhere, and where its habit of perching on conspicuous trees growing on the shores of pictur

esque inlets allows it to be viewed by many thousands who might not see one in all their lives in the older settled parts of our land.

In 1917 the Legislature of Alaska, relying largely on the testimony of a few persons who asserted that the diminishing supply of salmon was caused by the depredations of the birds, and that they were also very destructive to the young of deer and to other game species, passed a law placing a bounty on the eagle, to be paid on the presentation of the feet of the bird, and this law is still in effect. For the first six years the amount paid was fifty cents, but in 1923 the price was raised to one dollar. Up to August, 1927, the official records show that more than 40,000 of the great birds have been killed. For the present we will forbear passing judgment on one who would kill a bald eagle, the emblem of his native or adopted country, for so paltry a reward.

Now all eagles prey on other animals, and no one will contend that our bald eagle lives without killing. It is a powerful bird, and naturally its prey may sometimes include the young of a deer or a mountain sheep. It is well known, however, that the parents of our large game animals are very zealous in the care of their young, leaving them alone only under unavoidable circumstances, when they hide them very skilfully, and that they ably defend them from such attacks as cannot be avoided. That these defensive tactics are usually successful is attested by the comparative abundance of the animals, under natural conditions, in regions where, for ages, they have been exposed to the attacks of enemies. If eagles were unduly destructive to the young of deer, there would be few deer left in a section where these great birds are more abundant than in any other area in North America, and probably in the world. Then the appalling loss inflicted on the deer by the unusually heavy snowfalls of a few years ago could not have happened. And in accounting for the decrease of the deer, let Alaskans not forget the conditions existing in the territory only a few years ago, when the employees of the salmon canneries killed deer for their tables at any time they chose.

Eagles are notoriously heavy eaters of fish, but we believe that it has nowhere been denied that the bulk of those eaten in Alaska are dead or dying fish that have worn themselves out in the struggle to fight their way to the spawning grounds. It is a well

known fact that the salmon fisheries have been over-exploited for many years, and that the blame for the continued scarcity has been laid to the depredations of various creatures, gulls, terns, sea-lions, seals, and now the eagle.

It is a well-established principle that no species of bird, mammal, or fish can maintain its normal abundance in the face of long-continued commercial exploitation. Nature presents a vast assemblage of species of varying characteristics and habits, some preying on weaker species, some protecting, others eating their enemies, and all linked into a vast interdependent system. Some of these species man has already so nearly exterminated that he can never hope to learn exactly what were their relations to the rest of the universe. To the serious student of wild life no phase of human activity is more patent than man's tendency to blame some other creatures for depleted conditions that he has brought about by his own destructive methods. There is a regrettable fashion of jumping to conclusions, and urging the wholesale destruction of supposedly injurious creatures without any adequate preliminary study of the factors in the case. This tendency is unfortunately all too prevalent in our treatment of many of our most beautiful and useful species, and leads to many notable abuses. Much of this is due to a reluctance to interfere with established methods of business that came into being a generation or more ago, when the impending decline of many of our most valuable species, valuable from both commercial and æsthetic considerations, was unsuspected. Let us consider briefly a few more or less concrete cases, bearing in mind the principle that no species can stand continued commercial pursuit.

A high Government official urged that our people eat more fish in order that foods that can be more easily preserved and transported might help out in a national emergency. Fishermen along our southern coast reported that the pelicans were destroying our food fishes, when the shortage is really due to overfishing. A widespread demand was fostered for the extermination of the alleged despoilers, and thousands were killed even on reservations set aside for their exclusive protection. Then investigation was made of the feeding habits of the persecuted birds, and out of many thousands of fishes that had been eaten by