slight
chance of escape when once he encounters the line of stakes stretching
out from the point and, since they follow each other blindly, if one is
taken a whole troop is likely to meet the same fate.

The Abbe Casgrain, who, since his childhood was spent at the Manor House
at Riviere Ouelle, was long familiar with the "porpoise" fishery,
describes the scene witnessed there by him on May 1st, 1873. It was a
glorious day and the belugas appeared in greater numbers than for many
years. They swarmed off the mouth of the Riviere Ouelle. At high tide
they came in, skirting the rocks within a stone's throw of shore and
devouring greedily the innumerable small fish. The surface of the
shallow water in which they swam was white with their gleaming bodies.
When they puffed they spurted jets of water into the air which fell in
spray that sparkled in the sunlight. The Abbe then describes how the
creatures became entrapped in the fishery. Instances of the mother's
devotion are recorded. They have been known to wait outside the stakes
for their young, caught within, and to allow themselves to be stranded
and killed rather than leave their offspring.

When the tide is low the slaughter begins. In the season of the spring
tide the water at Riviere Ouelle retreats so far that the entrapped
"porpoises" are left high and dry in the fishery and are readily killed.
But in the season of neap tides enough water is left for them to swim
about within the semi-circle of stakes. Boats are taken into the fishery
through the outer line of stakes and then begins a regular whale hunt
within a very circumscribed area. If the belugas are numerous their
captors have not a moment to lose for the creatures may escape with the
next tide. And numerous they sometimes are; 500 have been taken in a
single tide; at Riviere Ouelle, about 1870, 101 were killed in one night
by only four men. They had not expected such a host and had no time to
send for help before the tide should rise again.

The captors are armed with barbed harpoons and with spears. The harpoon
is sometimes thrown at the beluga from a considerable distance. When
struck the creature rushes to the surface, plunges and rolls to get
free. He never defends himself but thinks only of flight. It is an
accident if a boat is upset by the stroke of its tail; such accidents
sometimes happen but the victim gets little more than a soaking, much to
the merriment of his companions. The harpooned beluga w