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378
The Story of the Atlantic Telegraph
·
Henry M. Field
9
As
the
island
of
Newfoundland
is
to
stand
in
the
foreground
of
our
story,
we
observe
on
the
map
its
salient
geographical
position.
It
holds
the
same
relation
to
America
that
Ireland
does
to
Europe.
Stretching
far
out
into
the
Atlantic,
it
is
the
vanguard
of
the
western
continent,
or
rather
the
signal-tower
from
which
the
New
World
may
speak
to
the
Old.
And
yet,
though
large
as
England,
and
so
near
our
coast,
few
Americans
ever
see
it,
as
it
lies
out
of
the
track
of
European
commerce.
Our
ships,
though
they
skirt
the
Banks
of
Newfoundland,
pass
to
the
south,
and
get
but
occasional
glimpses
of
the
headlands.
Even
what
is
seen
gives
the
country
rather
an
ill
reputation.
It
has
a
rockbound
coast,
around
which
hang
perpetual
fogs
and
mists,
through
which
great
icebergs
drift
slowly
down,
like
huge
phantoms
of
the
deep,
gliding
away
to
be
dissolved
by
the
warm
breath
of
the
Gulf
Stream:
dangers
that
warn
the
voyager
away
from
such
a
sea
and
shore.
Sailing
west
from
Cape
Race,
and
making
the
circuit
of
the
island
as
far
as
the
Straits
of
Belle
Isle,
one
is
often
reminded
of
the
most
northern
peninsula
of
Europe.
The
rocky
shores
are
indented
with
numerous
bays,
reaching
far
up
into
the
land,
like
the
fiords
along
the
coast
of
Norway;
while
the
large
herds
of
Caribou
deer,
that
are
seen
feeding
on
the
hills,
might
easily
be
mistaken
for
the
flocks
of
reindeer
that
browse
on
the
pastures
and
drink
of
the
mountain
torrents
of
ancient
Scandinavia.
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