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 As we left Newfoundland we flew about 1000 ft. over the land. I watch the shapes of the many lakes, large and small, which cover the terrain. Two are gigantic footprints; another a buffalo—another a prehistoric animal.



There were many "things" depicted with lumpy paws and flat head and the usual accumulation of abnormalities belonging to the genus Thing. 3300 ft. Over an extensive cushion of fleecy fog.

Bill has been at radio and writes CEV to me. I grab call book and find SS. Elmworth is calling.

Soon Cape Race asks how things are going.

We are at 5000 now getting out of fog, but into a storm. A flurry of snow just passed below. I can see clear weather to right, but not ahead. Temperature back here 42 degrees. I am not cold, as I got used to cold in Trepassey.

Speaking of Fog again, I know Dunsany would like to see the world above the earth. Irish fogs have been described in detail, and