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Outing I

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OF THE

LOWER ST. LAWRENCE

AND THROUGH THE

PROVINCES BY THE SEA.

MONTREAL:

Sabiston'Litho. & Pub. Co.

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DEPSlRTMEISiT ♦ OF * !^?1ILVV?1Y5, * (^nHUt)^,

COLLINGWOOD SCHREIBER, C. E.,

Chief Engineer and General Manager Canadian Gen ernment Railways, Ottaxva.

INTERCOLONIAL RAILWAY OF CANADA.

D. POTTINGER, Chief Superintendent, 1 - - - - Moncton, N. B.

P. S. ARCHIBALD, Chief Engineer,

GEO. TAYLOR, General -Freight Agent,

A. BUSBY, General Passenger Agent, ----- " «'

H. A. WHITNEY, Mechanical Superintendent, . . - " "

THOS. WILLIAMS, Treasurer and Chief Accountant,
T. V. COOKE, General Storekeeper, . . - . -

The Intercolonial Railway is the DIRECT ROUTE to the famous

seaside and fishing resorts of the Lower St. Lo.wrence and

Bale des Chaleurs, and of New Brunswicic , Nov a Scotia,

- Prince Edward Island , Cape Breton and the Magdalen

Islands.

NEW and ELEGANT BUFFET PARLOR and SLEEPING CARS are run on

Through Express Trains.

The Intercolonial is unequalled for comfort and safety in its passenger train

equipment.
Through Express Trains are brilliantly lighted by electricity and heated by steam
3^«l from the locomotive.
The Westinghouse Automatic Air Brake is on all passenger train cars and engines.

ROUND TRIP TOURISTS' TICKETS, SUMMER EXCURSION AND SEA BATHING TICKETS

Good for passage betM'een first of June and last of October,

Are for sale at all Principal Railway and Steamboat Agencies in Canada and the

United States.

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THIS IS A PREFACE.

HAVE been told that there are well authenticated instances
of people who read all that was worth reading in the first
edition of this book, because they liked the preface. While
this is less remarkable than if they had read the preface
because they liked the book, it is pleasing to any getter up
of guides to know that anybody but himself and the proof
reader will peruse his work, just as if it were a Book of
Jokes, or one of Zola's realistic narratives of life among the
lowly. In the consciousness of this, he can rise superior to
the author of the biggest dictionary on earth. With this intent there is a
preface to this edition, though there is nothing to be explained, and no
earthly need of an introduction of any kind.

I have no idea how many editions of the Intercolonial Guide have been
sent out, but the rapidity with which they have been exhausted, proves that a
book, well printed and nicely illustrated, will not fail to have a large circula-
tion, if it is distributed free of charge, and the distributor is as active as he
ought to be. A knowledge of this should bring much comfort to young and
struggling authors.

This is the second revision of the original story. It was all true enough
in the first instance, but this is a great and growing country, and every year
brings changes. Even if this were not so, it would be impolitic tc tell so
much that nothing could be added. Men who write guide books must live
with an eye to the future.

While the present edition contains much that was in the others, either
word for word, or disguised with more or less ingenuity, a large amount of
really fresh matter has been scattered through the pages in such a way that,
to be sure of finding it all, the whole book must be read. It may also interest
the compilers of certain other guides to know that some typographical errors,
which they have been copying without credit, have been corrected so as to
make the matter more worthy of appropriation than in the paste

Apart from any fresh errors that may occur this time, the following
pages do not tell half the truth. That is because there is not room for it.
No book can say, in reasonably brief compass, all that ought to be said of

ik1

PREFACE.

this country and its attractions. If it successfully hints at what may be
enjoyed, the traveller can have plenty of fun in finding out the rest for himself.

As far as space would allow, I have tried to be truthf il, and have, ia
some instances, put the figures in fish stories considerably below those fur-
nished by the men who said they weighed and counted the fiih. While their
statements wire probably true, a stranger might be disposed to doubt them^
and so have a distrust in regard to other allegations which it is important he-
should believe, whether they are true or not. A few dozen, or even a few
hundred fish, should not be allowed to interfere with the more important
interests of a great national highway. ' V

If there is anything else about whicii the reader is in doubt, further
explanations may be had by addressing

W. KILBY REYNOLDS.

St. John, N.B., May, 1891.

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A RAMBLE AND A REST.

1 ESS than a generation ago the Maritime Provinces of Canada were as far
^ removed from the ordinary course of tourist travel as is the Island of
Newfoundland to-day. Within a score of years, even, their beauties were
unknown save to those who were willing to sacrifice their comfort, journey
without the aid of railways and rough it for hundreds of miles in what was
then, as much of it is now, a land of the forest and stream. The railway era
had begun, but there was little more than a beginning. Here and there was
a piece of road connecting two points, which were then, and seemed destined
to be, unimportant and slow of growth. Wide gaps separated the principal
■cities, and a wider gap separated the provinces by the sea •from the rest of
the great Dominion. The most convenient way of reaching this part of the
world from Quebec, or any point west of it, was by a round-about railway
journey through the United States, and thence by a sea voyage to St. John or
Halifax. The tourist who wrote a book came occasionally and found much
to interest him. Then he went home and told the world what a quaint and
•curious country he had found by the shores Down East. Under the most
favorable circumstances he had seen very little of it, but he knew more about
it than most of his readers knew, and his slory, a burlesque though it might
be, was an authority with the rest of the world. Since then the times have
■changed.

In the meantime, busy hands were at work in the Provinces. The gaps
were closing. The construction of the Intercolonial Bailway had been one
of the terms of Confederation, and year by year the work was pushed forward
until there appeared one of the most substantially constructed and best
■equipped lines in the world. To-day there are about 1,200 miles of Govern-
ment Railway connecting the city of Quebec with the Maritime Provinces,
while the numerous connections, under the control of private companies, aid
in giving access to some of the most attractive places for summer travel to be
found on the continent of Americ

In former years, before the American tourist had been awakened to the
possibilities of this country, the usual goal of summer journeyings was the
city oi' Quebec. Reaching that place the steps were retraced, and with
good reason, for beyond it, to the south and east, the map showed nothing
to tempt the pleasure seeker further. On the map of to-day may be traced

a line which stretches along the Lower St. Lawrence, through the fanied
Metapedia Valley, skirting the equally famous Baie des Chaleurs, and on
through New Brunswick and Nova Scotia to the city of Halifax. Arms reach
out here and there, reaching to St. John on the west, and Sydney, Cape
Breton, on the east, while still another branch traverses the Garden of the
Gulf, known as Prince Edward Island. This is the Intercolonial Railway.
Built from a commercial point of view, the wonderful opportunities for the
health and pleasure seeker were never dreamed of in the early days. Now it
has become the great avenue of travel for those who seek rest and recreation
in a glorious summer land.

Not that there is ever a crowd and a crush, such as the true pleasure
seeker aims to avoid. In the area of territory reached by this railway there
are so many places which attract that the lover of the quiet in nature can
always find hisjpeaceful haven. It is a country of refreshment and rest for
those who desire such, as well as a paradise for the fisherman and sportsman.
One can] enjoy the solitude of nature, free from the intrusion of the crowd,
and yet enjoy the j)rivileges of the daily mails and the telegraph. And withal
it is a part of the earth in which one may enjoy a maximum amount of
pleasure with a minimum of outlay.

To the world-weary tourist, who has been used to the confusion of the
conventional summer resort, there may come a vision of this country, —
a country which lies by the sea aud is fanned by cooling breezes from
the ocean. In this land are green hills, shady groves and fertile valleys.
From the distant mountains the crystal brooks come leaping with the music
of gladness, and join with noble rivers in whose clear waters dwell lordly
salmon and scarce less lordly trout. Near at hand are forests, as yet so little
disturbed that the moose, caribou and bear, now and again visit the farm-
yards of the adjacent settlements, and gaze in bewildered surprise at the man
whose hand is raised to slay them. Along the shore, for hundreds of miles,
lie land-locked harbors, where even the frail bark canoe may float in safety,
yet upon the waters of the ocean, and upon the smooth sand beaches of which
a child may venture into the buoyant salt water and fear not. In this country
is scenery at times of sweet pastoral simplicity ; at times of sublime grandeur.
It is a land wherejcivilization has made its way, and yet not marred the beauty
of Nature. It is a country where the traveller will find much that is novel,
much that^will charm, and much that will ever remain to him as a sweet
remembrance of a pleasant clfme.

It is wholly a matter of choice as to what point is chosen by the traveller
for his entrance into this region which has so much in store for him. All
roads lead to it ; but, if coming ♦ om the west, after having seen the great
cities, and the vast resources of th,^ Upper Provinces, he will begin at the
beginning and start at

mrnmrn"

THE CITY OF QUEBEC.

It is a restful place, and a fitting point from which to enter upon a land
which offers rest. It is unique among the cities of the continent. Could one
forget his paat and live only in the thought of his surroundings, he might
imagine himself dropped down in some corner of Europe. To him who has
come from the busy cities to the south and west, everything is strange and
new. Other places anticipate the future ; Quebec clings fondly to the paat.
It is well that it should be so, for, in this practical and prosaic age, but few
cities retain the halo of romance that surrounded them in their early years.
New York may afford to grow wealthy and forget New Amsterdam, but the
Quebec of to-day is much the Quebec of the centuries that are dead and gone.

The man who has read the story of Quebec, and is prone to attach a
sentiment to the ancient and historic city, should have his first view from the
water or the opposite shore. There he will see the stronghold as it has been
pictured to him and as he has dreamed of it. The cliffs, the citadel, the spires,
the tin roofs glistening in the sunlight,— all seem very real to him, and he
longs to enter the city so rich in the legends of the past.

If he wanders through the lower town, it may be that the first thing
to attract his eye will be a church, bearing on its front the date of 1688. It
was begun in that year, and when, two years later, the people ascribed to
Heaven the scattering of England's fleet, under Sir William Phipps, they
instituted the fete of Notre Dame des Victoires, which title, upon the occasion
of a later victory, was bestowed upon the church. It is one of the monu-
ments of the city, but by no means the oldest, nor is it the less interesting
from the fact that it was reduced nigh to ruin in the fierce cannonading that
preceded the planting of the flag of England on the citadel. Then, having
seen this, let the visitoj glance at the thrifty French farmers and their house-
hc'ds, as they present a bright and animated picture of the present, in the
open square near at hand. There is more to be seen in the lower town, but
let us hasten up that curious passage known as Breakneck Stairs, take a turn
to the left, and we are on what is, historically, holy ground.

There is so much to be seen that only the local guides can point it out,
and even they are often sadly lacking. Everywhere are monuments of a
strange and eventful history. Yonder is the Basilica, or French cathedral,
begun in 1647, when gay Louis XIV was king, and the star of France shed a
bright light over the eastern and western worlds. The edifice was conse-
crated in 1666, and, with the exception of the church at St. Augustine,
Florida, is the oldest on the continent. There are treasures within its walls,
apart from the golden vestments and rich ornaments, some of which have
been the gifts of kings. There are here rare paintings, some of them dating
back to the time when French art received a new impetus under the protec-
tion of Henry IV ; and there, too, is Our Saviour on the Cross, by VanDyck.
In the troublous times of France, when neither art nor religion were held

sacred, faithful hands guarded these pictures and placed them beyond the
reach of the vandal mob. I^ter, they were brought to the new world and
placed within the old cathedral, and there it is fitting they should ever remain.
Let us emerge tVom the venerable pile into the busy street, where the
bustle of the nineteenth century jars upon the ear. Just across the way is the
site of the Jesuit college, founded in 1635, whence came forth the discoverer
of the Mississippi River, and others whose names can never be forgotten.
Among them were those brave, unselfish men, the Jesuit missionaries M'ho
bore the cross into the trackless forest, to die amid torture, praying Heaven
for its forgiveness of their savage foes.

Of a truth we tread historic ground. We are within the walls of one of
the most notable cities of America — one of the most famous places in the
world. There are cities which are more fair to look upon ; there are some
which the mere pleasure seeker esteems more highly; and there are many
which have distanced it in the march of progress. There is but one Quebec,
—old, quaint and romantic, — the theatre which has witnessed some of the
grandest scenes in the dramas played by nations.

The story of Quebec is recorded in history, but no historian can do
justice to the theme. From the day when the fleet of the intrepid Cartier cast
anchor on these shores down to the hour when the last gun was fired in anger
from yon batteries, the story is a romance which fiction cannot surpass. What
scenes of hope and fear, of deep patience, undaunted courage, and unflagging
zeal, have these old rocks witnessed. What dreams of ambition, what bold
projects for the glory of God and the honor of France, have here been
cherished. Hither, from across the sea, came heroes. Some sought fame,
and found nameless graves ; some g sped for wealth, and miserably perished ;
while some, animated solely by a zeal for the cross, won martyrs' crowns in
the distant wilderness. For a century and a half the banner of France waved
on this rocky height. Priest, soldier and citizen had followed the " star of
empire " to the western world and found themselves in another France, of
which Quebec was to be the Paris, and within the vast territories of which
should arise a mighty nation. Here was the seat of the power of France in
America ; within these walls were held the Councils of State ; and from these
rocks went forth the edicts for the temporal and spiritual guidance of the
people.

For nearly a century and a quarter the English flag has floated over the
citadel, but the language, customs and religion of France remain. The Van-
dalism of modern improvement has not spoiled the features of Quebec. Some
of the old historic buildings are gone, but many remain. We may still view
the solid masonry of two centuries ago. We may stand where the people
of the Ancient Capital stood to praise God for deliverance from the invaders ;
we may linger amid the shadows of the old cathedral, among rare old paint-
ings by master hands, and think of the days when these walls echoed the Te
Deums for the victories of France. We may roam through queer, crooked

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streets, and enter quaint old houses, in the dark corners of which we almost
look for ghosts to come to us from the by-gone centuries.

Of all the French settlements 'n Canada, Quebec best retain<5 its ancient
form. The hand of time has swe Jt away the ruins of 'Port Royal, and the
grass grows over what was once the well nigh impregnable L(iuiabourg ; but
Quebec remains, and will reman, the Niobe of the r-Jas of France in the
western world. Here lives Europe in America ; here the past and the present
meet together ; here the seventeenth and nineteenth centuries jostle each
other in the narrow streets.

Everyone visits the citadel, and is impressed with the wonderful natural
advantages of the position. Had Montcalm remained within these walls, the
courage of Wolfe would have been displayed in vain. As it was. fifteen min-
utes changed the destiny of New France, and made two names inseparable
and immortal. Ascend a bastion and the panorama of the St. Lawrence and
its shores is simply superb. Here one could sit for hours

" And come and come again,
That he might call it up wh»n far away."

To see the places usually visited outside of Quebec, one may employ a
carter to advantage. There are plenty of them, and some of the local guide
books give them a high character for honesty, but the safe course is to make
an agreement as to price before starting, which agreement is aTivcd at by a
species of Dutch auction, commencing at the figures named by the carter and
bidding down until a fair price is reached. The more carters there are
present the more interest is attached to the proceedings, and the better chance
there is of a good bargain. The men, as a rule, are cheerful and obliging, so
mueh so, that when you trust to them as guides, they will tell you more than
the historian and geographer ever dreamed of in their philosophy. A book
written by a foreigner on the basis of a carter's narrations would be a very
readable volume.

Outside of the city you will drive to the Plains of Abraham, and picture
out the scene of that eventful morning in September, a century and a quarter
ago. The inscription on one side of Wolfe's monument is as graphic and
expr.'^'ssive as any sentence in the English language : " Here died Wolfe
victorious ! " It speaks volumes in the compass of a breath ; it is sublime
in its brevity,

Let those who love a scene of tranquil beauty go at the close of a day in
summer to the Dufferin Terrace and linger during the long twilight of the
evening. The heat and glare have passed away, and a gentle breeze comes
from the river. The last rays of the setting sun are gilding the hill on the
shores beyond, while the line of the distant mountains is blending with the
sky. For miles and miles the eye follows the rivet as it flows in silent
grandeur to the sea. Distant sails seem like the white wingi> ot sea birds,
while " day in melting purple dying," lulls the mind into a dreamy calmness.

The shadows deepen. The lights of Levis begin to cluster ; the houses in
the Lower Town are becoming more ghostly in the gathering darkness ; a.
sound of soft music comes from au open casement. We are amid scenes,
fraught with strange memories. Here stood the stately Castle of St. Louis,,
where, for two hundred years, the Frinch and English rulers held their court.
Its glory departed amid a whirlwind of fire. Far below we can trace the out-
line of a street. It is Champlain Street. How black it looks ; it reminds us
of the darkness of that winter morning, long ago, v.'hen Richard Montgomery
and his men rushed through it to tli^ir death. Everywhere around us havt
the horrors of the war been felt ; and to-night all is so peaceful that the
thought of war seems out of harmony with the scene. The bells from the
shipping in the harbor sound musically through the quiei air ; the plaintive
notes of the bugle are borne to us from the citadel ; and the flash and roar
of the evening gun tells of night fallen upon the Ancient Capital.

Poets have sung of Quebec, but it is a poem of itself which no language
can express ; its memories linger in the mind like the sweet remembrance of
harmonious music heard in the years long passed away.

THe LoWefj ST. LaWreNce.

It has cost the British Government millions of dollars to cons truct the
system of fortifications that crown the heights of Levis, on the opposite side
of the river from Quebec. The chatices are that the guns will never be fired
in angor, and that ocean steamers, rather than cannon, will continue to yield
the smoke which casts the shadows on the broad and beautiful St. Lawrence

The journey over the Intercolonial Railway begins at Levis, and for the
next two hundred miles or so the traveller passes through a purely French-
Canadian country. One after another the typical villages come in view, with
their low-lying building: and quaint cottages, built to withstand the keenest
cold of winter. In the midst of these looms up the ch urch, usually a sub-
stantial edifice of stone, while here and there a large wayside cross, on some
distant hill, stands out in bold relief against the sky. A quiet people are
these habitants of the Lower St. Lawrence, simple in their tastes, primitive in
their ways and having an abiding devotion to their mother tongue and mother
church. The opening up of the country has changed them a little, in the
larger villager, but as a whole they are much as they have been for the last
two hundred years. Their ways are nearly us the ways of their fathers. The
railway and telegraph of the nineteenth century run through a country in
which hundreds of people ure to all intents and purposes in the seventeenth
century. Not to their disrespect be this said, but as showing the tenacity
with which their adhere to their language, manners and customs. They are
as conservative a-< any people on earth. Where innovations are thrust upon
them by the march of progress they adapt themselves to the changes ; but
where they are left to themselves they are happy in the enjoyment of the life
their fathers led, and are vexed by no restless ambition to be other than they

I *

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have been. Their wants are few and easily supplied ; they live peaceful and
moral lives ; and they are filled with an abiding love for their language and a
profound veneration for their religion. By nature light-hearted and vivacious,
they are optimists without knowing it. Inured to the climate, they find en-
joyment in its most rigorous seasons. French in all their thoughts, words
and deeds, they are yet loyal to the British crown and contented under
British rule. The ancient laws are secured to them by solemn compact ; and
their language and religion are land.narks which will never be moved. In
places where the English have established themselves, some of the habitants
understand the language of the intruders, but none of them adopt it as their
own. The mingling of races has a contrary effect, and the English tongue
must yield to the French. There are many Englishmen in this country
whose children do not understand a word of their father's native tongue ; but
there are no Frenchmen whose children are ignorant of the language of
France.

Where the advent of the tourist has not robbed the native of his simplicity
of character, he is likely to make a favorable impression on the stranger. He
is the type of a peculiar people, many of whom are in very humble circum-
stances. Among the elders books are often sealed mysteries ; it is enough
for them to know what their church teaches, and for them to obey it. Their
condition of life is not such as conduces to refinement, but they have much
of that true politeness which is dictated by sincerity, and they seek to fulfil
the stranger's wishes as a matter of plain duty. '

One of the most familiar sights, on the train, at the stations or trudging
along the highway, is the sombre-garbed French priest. The village cure i&
a man whom it is a pleasure to meet. VVell informed, affib'.e, and a lover of
the land in which he lives, there is nothing of the ascetic in his nature. His
lot may not be cast amid the surroundings of which he once dreamed, but
wherever he may be his life is one of devotion to the cause of his faith. He
is of necessity a guide and counsellor in mxny things apart from his priestly
functions, and his people are ever ready to heed him. He is a pastor whose
life is devoted to his flock.

Passing a number of picturesque villages, the first summer resort of any
note is Kamouraska, reached from St. Paschal station, which is 89 miles from
Levis. Before reaching the latter point, one may stop at Ste. Anne, where
there is a college, accommodating about 300 students, and where there is a
convent of the Grey Nuns. If he is interested in local traditions, and has
read Abbe Casgrain's story of La /ongieuse, he may visit Riviere Quelle,
which takes its name from the tragedy of which Madame Houel was the
heroine, in the days when the Iroquois roamed these shores. There he may
see the rocks on which, it is said, the tracks of snowshoes and the imprints of
human hands and feet were visible in former years.

A drive of five miles from St. Paschal brings one to Kamouraska, a village
beautifully situated on the shore of the St. Lawrer.ce. It is located on a

poiat which reaches seaward, and has a fine, well sheltered sand beach about
half a mile in length. The visitors here are largely those who own or hire
cottages by the season, and who seek for more quiet and rest than can be
found at the larger watering places. Of recent years nidiiy strangers have
found out the beauties of the place, and it is becoming more popular v'^very
season. It has great natural advantages, and the bathing is especially good.
A number of picturesque islands in the vicinity afford additional pleasures to
boating parties. Kamouraska has much to commend it to the tourist.

At many places along this shore, only a narrow strip of land separates the
45t. Lawrence from the head waters of the river St. John and its tributaries, in
New Brunswick. These places, affording as they do ready means of com-
munication, are called portages. Twenty miles below St. Paschal this dis-
tance between the v.aters is 26 miles, and hence the name of the village of
Notre Dame du Portage. It is a quiet, retired spot, but its fine beach and
«xcellent facilities for bathing make it a very enjoyable resort for the families
who spend their summers there.

RiVlERE DU Loup.

Nobody ever stopped at Rivii^re du Loup because the first impression of
the village, as seen from the railway station, gave the idea of a popular sum-
mer resort. There is a railway look about the place, and with good reason,
for it is an important point on the Intercolonial, and before that road was
built it was the eastern terminus of the Grand Trunk line. Here also are the
general oflfices of th*^ Temiscouata Railway, which runs into New Brunswick
and connects with the systems that open up the western part of that province.
Yet Riviere du Loup is a summer resort as well, and one of long established
reputation. A long and somewhat hilly road leads from the station to what,
though apparently a part of the village, is known as Fraserville, in honor of
the family of Fraser, in whom the seigneurial rights have long been vested.
Beyond this again is the St. Lawrence, with all its splendid privileges of bath-
ing, boating, shooting, and fishing, in the proper seasons. Most of the deal-
ing men of Canada, including its governors-general, have spent portions of
their summers here, and they have all been pleased with the place. Apart
from its own attractions, it is a very convenient centre from which one may
go to various points, either by the water or back into the woods where fish
and game abound, making this the headquarters for the deposit of luggage
and the receipt of mail matter. While he remains here, however, there is
much to attract him. The views are charming, the walks and drives varied
and beautiful, the bathing facilities excellent, while the shooting and fishing
in the immediate vicinity afford ample recreation. Fine views may be had
from many points. Situated near the confluence of the Riviere du Loup and
the St. Lawrence, and being on the shore of the latter, the place abounds in
picturesque scenery of all kinds. Near the railway, the smaller river has a
descent of ?nore than 200 feet, by a succession of falls which make their way

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through a gorge over which high and precipitous rocks stand sentinel. In
the vicinity, " hil's peep o'er hills," clothed in all the varying hues of green,
while toward the St. Lawrence the open country, sprinkled with well finished
houses, makes a pleasing contrast to the rugged aspect of the land which lies
in the rear. Upon the shore a glorious prospect is open to the view. Here
the estuai^ .. .uens in its journey to the sea, and the mountains on the northern
shore, a score of miles distant, stand out in bold relief against the clear blue
sky. Upon the waters just far enough away to " lend enchantment to the
view," are the white-winged argosies of commerce, bearing the flags of every
maritime nation. At times a long, low shape on the waves and a dark,
slender cloud floating lazily away mark the path of the ocean steamship.
Nearer the shore are smaller craft of all sizes and shapes— manned by fishers,

traders, and seekers after plea-
sure. If one longs to join
them, a boat is at hand and
soon is dancing on the gentle
billows, while the sea birds
skim the waters in their circling-
' flights, and the solemn-eyed
loupmarin rises near at hand, van-
ishes and rises again, as if sent by
Neptune to demand the stranger's
errand. It was from these creatures,
say some, that the river derived its name,
rather than from the ill-visaged wolf of the

waters'abound[in'all kind of crea-
tures, great and small. The
chief of these is the white whale,
the Beluga Borealisy which is
usually, but erroneously, termed
the white porpoise. Its length is
from four*^een to twenty-two feet.

RIVIERE DU LOUP.

and each carcass yields something over a hundred gallons of oil. This
oil, when refined, is worth about a dollar a gallon, and as there is no scarcity
of the creatures, the fishery might be made a very valuable one. The halibut
and sturgeon come next in order of size, after them the salmon, and then all
the small fish common to this latitude.

Returning to the shore, if the day is bright and warm, the long line of
smooth beach, abounding in cosy nooks and corners, invites a bath. The
adjective " warm " is the correct one for this part of the continent in the
summer, it being a relative term which denotes an absence of cold without an
excess of heat. It is never hot here. The days when coats, collars, and
cuffs become a burden and humanity wilts in the shade are unknown en

these shores. The rays of the midsummer sun are tempered by gentle
breezes, which invigorate the system, and a gambol amid the waters causes a
degree of exhilaration which once enjoyed is not soon forgotten.

ACROSS THE BROAD RIVER.

Steamers calling at Riviere du Loup furnish opportunities for visiting the
more notable watering places on the northern shore. Mention may be
made of Murray Bay and Tadoussac, but by far the most wonderful sight
for the tourist is the famed Saguenay River. It is one of the most remarkable
of nature's works in a continent where natural wonders abound. Bayard
Taylor has described it as "a natural chasm, like that of the Jordan Valley
and the Dead Sea, cleft for sixty miles through the heart of a mountain wilder-
ness." This terse description is a word photograph, but he who would grasp
the details of a strange picture must see the Saguenay itself. Its waters, black
and silent, have vast depths. The river is said to be deeper, by 600 feet,
than the mighty St. Lawrence into which it empties. There are people of the
country who believe its depths cannot be fathomed, and they tell of thousands
of feet of line which have been paid out in the vain attempt to find bottom in
certain places. Let one imagine such a river flowing between walls of rock,
which tower in places to a height of nigh 2,000 feet, and he will realize the
significance of such names as Cape Trinity, Cape Eternity and Eternity Bay.
In the majesty and gloom of such surroundings, the reflective mind must ever
feel the most profound reverence and awe.

At the mouth of the Saguenay is Tadoussac, a wonderful old settlement,
with enough eventful history of its own to supply material for a volume, were
the records but available. It is undoubtedly the oldest European settlement
in Canada, and perhaps in America. Before jCharaplain began to build
Quebec, it existed. Nay, before Jacques Cartier left St. Malo to find out
Canada, near four centuries ago, Tadoussac was the resort of the Basque
fishermen, whjse fathers had resorted thither before them. One writer, W.
H. H. Murray, has evolved the theory that not only were the Basques here
before Columbus was born, but that their ancestors, the sea-roving Iberians,
visited this harbor even before Christ was sent to man or Rome was founded.

So it is with profound icverence that one looks upon this spot, which is
historically older than the country of which it is a part. It was the ancient
metropolis of Canada, the chief trading station before one of the cities of to-
day had sprung into existence. Here was erected the first stone house, and
here, too, was the first church. The present structure, a modern affair dating
back scarcely 150 years, is built upon the site of the first place of worship, and
it is said that the Angelus is rung out to-day with the bell by which it was
sounded well nigh four hundred years ago.

It is of this bell that a strange story is told — a story not made mythical by
its antiquity, but coming so near our own times as to be told by those now
living who heard it from those who were living then. It has appeared in

various forms, but so far as is known, not in such a way as to be accessible
to the ordinary traveller. For this reason, and because it is worthy of preser-
vation, an outline is given here.

In all that pertains to the history of Canada from the advent of Cartier
until the cession to England, religion is everywhere interwoven. The courage
zea.\ and self devotion of the Jesuit missionaries will be remembered while the
world endures. They never wearied or looked back, and long after the confis-
cation of their property and the suppression of their order they continued
their labors among the savages. The last of the Jesuits in Canada is believed
to have been Pere Coquart, whose grave is at Chicoutimi, nearly a hundred
miles up the Saguenay. With him in his labor of preaching the Gospel was
Pere Jean Baptiste Labrosse, a goodly — nay, from all that is told, a saintly
man, whose tomb is at Tadoussac. For nearly thirty years the gentle P^re
Labrosse wrought to bring the Indians to a knowledge of the cross, and in
1782 he had reached the allotted age of three score and ten, yet, as with
Moses, "his eye was not dim nor his natural force abated." On the loth of
April in that year he spent the evening with his friends at Tadoussac, but at
nine o'clock he arose from their midst, with a look of strange peace on his face,
and bade all farewell until eternity. He would die at midnight, he said, and
when his spirit left the flesh the church bell would toll to tell his people that he
was gone from among them. He departed. At midnight the bell tolled, the
people hastened to the church, and there before the altar, as if in a peaceful
sleep, P(ire Labrosse lay dead. At the same hour that night, in every settle-
ment where the departed missionary had preached, from the head waters of
the Saguenay to the Baie des Chaleurs, the bells of the churches, tolled by
invisible hands, bore to his cri verts the tidings of his entering into rest.

When moming came a dense darkness overhung the Saguenay. On the St.
Lawrence a fearful storm was ragng, and the huge masses of drifting ice
threatened destruction to any craft, even within the well sheltered harbor.
Yet P6r_g Labrosse had (greeted that a boat be sent to He aux Coudres, sixty
miles (flstant, that Pere Compain might come to Tadoussac and inter his re-
mains with the forms of the church. Four men, hrm of faith, launched a
canoe, and as it advanced the ice floes parted, leaving smooth water for its
passage. So it was until He aux Coudres was reached, and there, on the
shore, stood Pere Compain, who told them of their errand before they could
Announce it. The bell of his church had tolled at midnight, a yoice had
spoken, telling of the death of P6re Labrosse md of the mission of the four
men who would come to the island. Such is the story of the good Jean
Baptiste Labrosse and the bell which rings to day in the little church which
stands near the shore in the harbor of Tadoussac.

From the Saguenay back to Riviere du Loup is a pleasant trip of a summer
day. The air is so clear that the view of both shores is at all times such as
to charm the eye. On the north side are the Laurentian Mountains,
which reach from Labrador to the remote regions of Lake Superior, and

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along these shores attain their greatest height, rising to 2,000 feet at Cape
Tourmente. With certain conditions of the atmosphere, singular mirages are
sometimes seen as the south shore is approached, and one in particular, among
the islands of Riviere du Loup and Kamouraska, is worthy of special note.
All the lower St. Lawrence is full of beauty, as well as rich in historical re-
miniscences and traditions.

FORESTS AND STREAMS

Taking Riviere du Loup as a centre, the sportsman has a field only limited
by his time and inclination to shoot and fish. Nature has been prodigal in
her gifts, and though Indians and their white brothers have made sore havoc
among the creatures of the woods, in the past, enough remain to employ the
hunter for generations to come. In one respect, however, an unbridled
license to kill in former years, has had its effect The moose, king of the
North American forests, was once to be found in every part of the country.
It retreated gradually before the advance of civilization, but less than a genera
tion ago vast herds of these creatures were to be found in the Metapedia
valley, where they were an easy prey to the pelt hunters. Pursued in season
and out of season, run down by all means fair and foul, they were still abun-
dant when the British troops came to Canada at the time of the " Trent
affair," in the latter part of the winter of 1862. Mocassins were needed for
the soldiers, and to procure them the Indiana sought the Metapedia and
entered on the work of slaughter. Hundreds of the noble animals were slain,
stripped of their hides and left to rot in the woods. For months afterwards
the air was tainted with the odor. It is not strange that the moose forsook
the valley. They are still to be found in more distant haunts, and under the
game laws of recent years they can no longer be openly and needlessly
slaughtered as of yore. For some years the shooting of the female moose
was wholly prohibited in the Province of Quebec, and the close season now is
from the first of February to the first of September. The same season applies
to the hunting of deer.

The caribou, game fit for any sportsman, are still to be found in large num-
bers. The season for them in this province, extends from the first of Septem-
ber to the first of March ; and they are to be found almost anywhere between
St. Alexandre and Campbellton, within a short distance of the railway track.
In some places this distance would be two, and in others ten miles. Skill,
experience and good guides, are necessary to find them, but a sportsman who
understands his business, and who goes to the right locality, need not be sur-
prised if he bring down as many as twenty in a fortnight's hunt. To
accomplish this, he must be prepared for his work and be ready to stand some
fatigue. From Riviere du Loup he can set out in a variety of directions for
grounds which are known to be good. One of these is in the direction of
Teraiscouata Lake, 38 miles distant, and now reached either by highway or
rail. Here is a sportsman's paradise, amid scenery of the most beautiful

description, the forest abounding in game and the lakes and rivers teeming
with fish. Here one may live for weeks, and never weary in his absence from
the busy haunts of men.

All the forest to the south of this part of the railway affords good shooting.
The sportsman can take his choice of going a long or short distance. The
back country of Maine can be easily readied from St. Alexandre, or one may
go twenty miles from Riviere du Loup and find the St. Francis River, and
follow it to the St. John. From Elgin Road, or L'islet, the head waters of
the Rcstigouche and Miramichi may be reached. All these are in the midst
of happy hunting grounds.

Some of the best caribou hunting is to be had a- - the Shickshocks
Mountains, in Gaspe. This is the land of the cariboL a the depths of the
wilderness, amid mountains nearly 4,000 feet high, and surrounded by scenery
of the most wild and rugged character, is an abundance of rare sport. This
has been one of the resorts of Lord Dunraven, who has, indeed, hunted in all
parts of the country, meeting with excellent success. On one expedition he
started as many as forty-one caribou in three days. Of these he and his party
killed fifteen. H. R. H. Prince Arthur, during his visit, in 1869, engaged in
a successful hunting expedition in these forests. They have also been visited
by Count Turenne and other well known sportsman.

Other game may be had for the seeking. Bears sometimes make their
appearance when least looked for and often create lively episodes in the sports-
man's journey. They can be found almost anywhere outside of the settle-
ments, and when blueberries are in season every big^ ren has a bear for a
visitor.

Partridges nre very numerous. When a weak or lazy man goes after them
he has to take some one with him to carry the load home. So plentiful are
they near Riviere du Loup, that Wm. Fraser, Esq., the present Seigneur, shot
as many as fifty-four in one day, killing fourteen ot them without moving out
of his tracks. To him who has carried a gun mile after mile for a whole day
and been proud to exhibit one unfortunate bird as his trophy, this may appear
like a tough story. Nevertheless it is true. The man who goes after par-
tridges in this vicinity does not have to sneak home by a back road to avoid
the chaff of his neighbors for his bad luck. He stalks along with pride in his
face and a load on his back, and is only vexed that the spectacle is too com-
mon to excite wonder.

Around the shores, geese, brant and ducks of all kinds are found in immense
tlocks, the soft fresh water grass, so abundant along the rivers, furnishing an
abundance of the food in which they delight. The black and grey duck, the
curlew, the golden plover, and the English snipe, are v-ry abundant during
the months of September and October. Isle Verte and Kamouraska are
favorite resorts for these birds, but there are many other places along these
shores where hundreds may be shot with ease.

Much that has been said in regard to the hunting in this vicinity will apply

«9

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n
le

g
re

to the country along the next two or three hundred miles, or until long after
the boundary of New Brunswick has been passed. Rivit^re du Loup has
been singled out as a sample of what very many places arc like as regards
their surroundings, and to avoid a reiteration of facts in connection with
other points.

So it is in regard to the fishing, which is of more immediate interest to the
summer tourist. The enthusiastic hunter regards not the weather, and is
willing to endure the cold and wet in his queai for game, but fish are to be
had when nature is at her loveliest in this glorious summer laud. This is a
country offish, and such fish I One who is not a fisherman may eat ihem at
every meal on his journey. He may have halibut, salmon, herring, and smelt,
from the St, Lawrence, and salmon, tuladi, sea, brook and lake trout from
the waters that are tributary to it. Salmon are found in nearly all the rivers,
and the majority of the streams are leased by the Government to individuals.
It is not difficult, however, for a stranger to obtain permission to fish. Trout
are found in all the rivers and lakes and are free to all comers. The usual
size of those in the lakes is from five to six pounds ; in the rivers they run from
three to four pounds. All the trout of this region are very "gamey," and
afford abundant sport. In the lakes is also found the tuladi, which seems
identical with the togue of Northern Maine and New Brunswick. Speci-
mens have been caught weighing as much as forty pounds each, or as largo as
a good sized salmon. The average weight of them in Temiscouata Lake is 27
pounds. The tuladi has been confounded with th€ lake salmon of Switzer-
land, and with others of the salmon family of Europe, but it does not appear
to be identical with any of them. It is usually very fat, and very reserved —

ot to say lazy. It lurks and lies in the deep waters of the large lakes, as if
g. »n to coi 'emplation rather than the gratification of appetite. For all that,
it 1., i voracious creature and has a sly way of approaching the surface in the
cool hours of the morning and evening. It does not rise to the fly, as a rule,
but may be taken by trolling. It is good eating, though less delicate than
either the trout or the salmon.

Nearly all the lakes are free to fishers, for all kinds of fish.

CANOE AND PADDLE.
The Intercolonial has one feature which few, if any, railways possess to the
same extent. For a distance of several hundred miles it is intersected by
rivers easily navigable for small boats or canoes. By these natural highways
one may pursue his journey far into the interior, make a short portage from
the head- waters of one to those of another and descend the latter to the lines
of railway in New Brunswick. A glance at the map will show what ample
opportunities there are for this kind of recreation. Leaving the railway and
ascending one river, coming down another and up another, spending days
among the lakes, fishing, shooting, enjoying life to the utmost, one is as
much in the wilderness as if thousands of miles away. Yet all this time he

knows that, if necessary, a few hours will bring him to the railway, the mail
and the telegraph — to communication with the busy world. He may leave
the railway on the shores of the St. Lawrence and make z canoe voyage to
the Baie des Chaleurs or the Bay of Fundy. When he arrives at his destin-
ation he will find his luggage and his letters awaiting him. The route may
be varied and the voyage prolonged as may suit the voyageur's taste. Notably
good fishing may be had at Lakes St, Francis and Temiscouata and on the
Toledi S.iver ; but on such a trip one can fish and hunt everywhere as he
goes. In the Temiscouata region alone one may make a canoe voyage for at
least eighty miles, and if he chooses can, by portaging, descend the great
Miramichi to the ocean. Portages can be made so as to reach any of the
three great rivers of New Brunswick, the Miramichi, Restigoucbe, or St.
John. The whole country is open to any man who can sit in a canoe and
ply a paddle.

CACOUNA.

Six miles below Riviere du Loup is Cacouna station. The name has a
musical sound, but as seen from the cars there is little to attract the eye. The
Ccouna of which the pleasure seeker is in search is three miles distant, and
is reached by an easy drive over the smooth highway that descends to the
shore. Then the great watering place of the Lower St. Lawrence invites the
stranger to tarry and take his rest. " Shall I not take mine ease in mine
inn ? " he asks, and truly he may, for here is an hotel conducted by men who
have made a study of the tourist's wants, and who are prepared to supply not
only the comforts, but the luxuries of modern life. It is the St. Lawrence
Hall, with am.ple accommodation for 400 people and a capacity for half as
many more should occasion ru ^uire. It is the resort of the best classes of
visitors, and its increasing popularity may be inferred from the fact that the
business of last season was the largest done for years. This is not a puff ; it
is the truwh.

The inspiration of those who have termed Cacouna ** the Saratoga ot
Canada " is not a happy one. Saratoga has no salt water, no panorama like
that of the Lower St. Lawrence; no fishing, shooting and bathing,
and no cool and invigorating breezes such as prevail here in the hot days of
summer. Cacouna, on Ihe other hand, has no mixed mob of people whose
chief passport to recognition is the J>ecunia vulgaris of commerce, no sharpers
who live by fleecing their fellows, no exorbitant charges and no army of tip-
seeking menials who look upon the traveller as their prey. Thus it will be
seen that all comparison between the two places fails. Cacouna has an in-
dividuality, and can stand on its own merits. These are not a few.

While the pioneer of the watering places on this shore, it was for a long
time the resort of only a favorite few who knew of its beauties. Years ago,
before the railway v»as built, they came by steamer from Quebec and other
cities, were taken ashore by carts through the shallow water and had to put

•aMHUMnodi-'-- '

up with such accommodation as they could get. The first hotel, a one storey
building of the old time style, is still to be seen. There were, however, some
who had their summer cottages, 2nd one of these was Mr. Haley, of Mont-
real, who continues to come each season to the house he occupied forty-five
years ago. Of late years wealthy Canadians have expended large sums in the
erection of cottages and the beautifying of grounds. Some of these, such as
that of Hon. John Ross, of Quebec, represent expenditures of from $25,000
to $30,000, while a number of others cost $i 0,000 and upwards. People like
the place because it is as healthy as it is attractive. The natural drainage is
perfect, and an abundance of living springs supply pure water. Some years
ago, Drs. Campbell and Howard, of Montreal, sought for a watering place
which they could recommend to their patients, and having analyzed the
water, gave Cacouna a trial. The effect was so marked that the doctors lost
no time in taking their own prescription, and numbering themselves among
the dwellers on the shore.

With the mountains on one side and an arm of the sea on the other the air
is very pure. It is so clear that one can scarcely believe the opposite shore
is twenty-one miles away, but it is fully that in a straight line to the mouth of
the Saguenay. So near do the distant hills seem that one might feel tempted
to start for them with nothing more than a boat and pair of oars.

In all of this part of Canada, while winter comes early and lingers late,
nature maintains a balance by the quickening power of the summer. Every-
thing that is planted has a rapid and vigorous growth. This is noticeable at
Cacouna, in instances where ornamental trees have been set out. English
willows have been known to grow at the rate of two, and even three feet a
year, and that iu spite of the rocks among which they were planted. Peter
Donnegan is responsible for the statement that such trees, planted by him on
the grounds of Mr. Robert Hamilton, of Quebec, increased in seven years
from a height of eighteen inches to that of more than twenty-five feet.

Peter Donnegan is an authority on all that relates to Cacouna. He has
seen it grow and has helped to make it beautiful. " I put flowers in the
place of thistles," is his boast, and he tells how great holes, eight feet deep
and nine in diameter, were made in the rocks, that he might plant the trees
which cast a gratef'rl shade to-day. When he drove the carriage of the
Princess Louise from Riviere du Loup station to the wharf, she employed the
time by talking with him of the trees and wild flowers, and he was at no loss
for words to enlarge upon his favorite theme.

The name Cacouna has a sound suggestive of the waves and the shore,
but it has no such meaning. It signifies "the place where many Indians are
buried." One would think that there should be a legend connected with this,
but it is peculiarly aggravating to find that no one, not even the oracular Don-
negan, has any idea of the origin of the name. No ancient Indian graves
have ever been found here. The only place of burial which has any story

11^

attached to it is on Cacouna Island, where the wild flowers grow undisturbed
on the graves of fifteen shipwrecked sailors.

The St. Lawrence Hall is close to the shore, and overlooks a stretch of
beach a mile long, where may be enjoyed the bathing which has given the
village its fame. This big caravansary is the evolution of what was originally
known as Kelly's Hotel, with indifferent accommodation for about forty
people. Its position is well chosen, and in the height of the season it is a
busy place indeed.

So is the position of the village, on the shore of a graceful bay, with a
smooth beach of grey sand which stretches for a mile. All along are tasteful
private residences for summer use, while numerous other houses give accom-
modation to boarders. Many of the farmers own two houses, one of which

ST. LAWRENCE HALL, CACOUNA.

they occupy, while the other is leased for the season. In this way some of
them derive an income sufficient to support them in the lonely winter, when
the stranger has gone, and the natives sit alongside of two-storey stoves and
dream of the coming summer.

Good trout fishing is found in this vicinity. Trout Brook is the nearest
point, three miles distant, but still better results can be obtained by a drive to
the lakes, fifteen miles away, and which are reached by a good road.

The rates at St. Lawrence Hall are $2 a day and $10.50 a week and
upwards. The Mansion House, another hotel, has accommodation for 150,
and its rates are $1.50 a day and from $7 to $8 a week.

Two miles from Cacouna is St. Arsene, the most convenient point from
which to reach Lake St. Hebert, twelve miles distant. In this lake are plenty
of speckled trout, with an average weight of from half a pound to one and a

half pounds, and which have a high reputation on account of their excellent
flavor.

Trois Pistoles is one of the places where the through traveller refreshes
himself with an appetizing meal at the railway dining room. The village is
prettily situated, and there is good lake and river fishing in the vicinity. Lake
St. Simon, eighteen miles from here, is a beautiful sheet of water, and merits
special mention. The origin of the name of Trois Pistoles is more obscure
than even that of Cacouna. It may have been derived from the circumstance
that the first settler gave three pistoles for a piece of land, from somebody
losing or finding that sum, or from a trade with the Indians in which that
amount changed hands. The antiquarian can choose the tradition that seems
most reasonable. There is no good authority for any of them.

BIC ! BEAUTIFUL BIC !

A village on the low land by the shore, with mountains separating it
from the country beyond, confronted the engineers when they sought to locate
the line of the Intercolonial at a point fifty-five miles below P iviere du Loup.
It was Bic, then as now well termed the Beautiful. To-day the railway winds
around the mountain, one hundred and fifty feet above the post road, passing
places where the rock was blasted to a depth of eighty feet that a bed might
be made for the track. On the one side the steep declivity rises to a height
of two hundred and fifty feet above the passing train ; on the other is a pan-
orama of bay, river and islets, which seem as the environment of an enchanted
summer land. From this height is seen the St. Lawrence, twenty-five miles
from shore to shore, and rapidly widening in its journey until it merges with
the world of waters.

It was from these heights, on a fair day in June, long years ago, that
anxious eyes watched a fleet of war-ships making its way up the St. Lawrence.
Nearer it came until the watchers could discern that it carried the flag of
France. There was joy in every heart. The long expected succor had
arrived from beyond the ~ea, and swift messengers made ready to carry the glad
tidings to Quebec. Suddenly, as they looked, the ensign of the leading ves-
sel was run down and the red cross of England fluttered in the breeze.
Having come thus fur, stratagem was no longer needed. That vessel was the
Richmond frigate, carrying General James Wolfe, and, with him, was an army,
equipped for the conquest of Canada. The fleet cast anchor within sight of Bic
Island. Among the watchers on the heights, was a priest, whose nerves had
been strung to the utmost tension with joy at the sight of his country's flag.
When the dread truth was so suddenly revealed to him, nature could bear no
more, and he fell to the earth — dead !

Bic is one of the finest natural watering places on the Lower St. Law-
rence. The mountains are around it, and it nestles at their feet amid a wealth
of beautiful scenery. There is more than a mere stretch of shore. There is
a harbor in which an ocean steamer may ride, a haven wherein vessels may

hide from the wrath of the storm-king. Romantic isles He amid the waters,
and crags of rugged beauty rear their heads around the bay. Pleasant beaches
tempt the bather ; placid waters invite the boatman ; and beauty everywhere
summons the idler from hi<; resting place to drive or ramble in its midst.
The haibor is charming tojone who first beholds it and "time but the
impression deeper makes." It never becomes monotonous, and each day
one may find something new to admire among its inviting nooks.

Had it not been for the fleet that lay at anchor beyond the island on that
midsummer day in 1759, Bic might have been a fortified town and its harbor
a naval station. Such was one of the projects of France, and the harbor
would have been a safe and convenient rendezvous for the fleets in these
waters, for Bic is accessible at seasons when the ice bars the passage to
Quebec. It was here, in the bitterly cold winter weather of 1862, that Eng-
land landed men and munitions of war for the defence of Canada. It does not
seem, however, that Bic should have anything to do with war. Everything
is suggestive of pleasure and peace. Strangers are not numerous, but lovers
of beauty and seekers after rest have located summer residences in the village,
and year by year enjoy the cooling breezes. Fishing is in abundance ; and if
there were no fish, the streams winding their way among the hills, through all
kinds of picturesque dells, would well repay full many a toilsome tramp.

One of the islands near at hand is known as L'llet au Massacre, and
associated with it is a tragic story of Indian war. The tale is an old one,
Donnacona told it to Jacques Cartier, and it has appeared in a great variety
of forms ever since. Briefly stated, the tradition is that a band of Micmacs,
consisting of about two hundred men, women and children, heard of the ap-
proach of a large party of hostile Iroquois, and fled for concealment to the
large cave which is to be seen on this island. The Iroquois discovered the
place of retreat, and finding themselves unable to dislodge their hidden foes
by ordinary means, resorted to a thoroughly savage expedient. Heaping dry
wood in and around the mouth of the cave, they advanced behind shields of
boughs, carrying torches of bark, and ignited the pile. The Micmacs were
forced to leap through the flames, and as fast as tl ey appeared were slaughtered.
All who were in the cave were killed, and their bones lay bleaching on the
island for many a year thereafter. They were swiftly and terribly avenged.
Mr. Tache, in his Trois Ligendes de Mon Pays, says that five of the Micmacs
were sent from the island at the first alarm, a part to demand assistance from
the friendly Malicites at Madawaska, and the others to act as scouts.
Twenty-five Malicite warriors responded to the summons, but too late to pre-
vent the iiiassacre. They then, aided by their five allies, secretly followed the
track of the Iroquois, and unseen themselves, dealt death among the party as
it proceeded. The scouts had previously removed the canoes and provisions
which the Iroquois had left in the woods, and so they marched, dying by the
hand of an unseen foe and threatened with famine ere they could reach their
own country. At length they reached the open woods, near Trois Pistoles

^. '

■W

'il

* 1

River, feeble and discouraged. The band had shrunk to twenty-seven men.
Finding traces of moose they began to hunt, and were led into an ambush by
the foe, who bur?*^ upon them and killed all but six. These were made
prisoners ; one was tortured by the allies in the presence of the other five.
The latter were then divided, and tht; Malicites carried their three to Mada-
waska. The Micmacs returned to Bic with their two, and tying them with
their faces to the island, put them to death with their most ingenious torments.
They then quitted Bic forever. Tradition has peopled the neighborhood with
the ghosts of the slaughtered Micmacs, now dancing on the waters, now
moaning among the crevices of the rocks, shrieking at times as with the agony
of souls in pain.

Hattee Bay is another delightful spot, not far from Bic. The scenery,
though not so impressive as that of the latter place, is very attractive. One
of the features is a natural terrace, and the facilities for all kinds of exercise
and recreation are abundant. A number of English families reside at this
place, and it has many admiring visitors during the summer season.

RiMousKi AND THE Hermit.

Many people know only of Rimouski as a place where the ocean
steamers receive and land mails and passengers on the voyage to and from
England. Anxious to depart or get home, they see little of the place beyond
noting that it is a thriving town, and that the pier running out to deep water
is of a most surprising length. It extends for nearly a mile, and is a most
agreeable promenade in summer days, when a constant cool breeze is borne
over the water.

The village of St Germain de Rimouski, which is its full title, is a place
where the law and Gospel flourish, because it is the shiretown of the county
and the seat of the bishop of the diocese. The cathedral, bishop's palace,
seminary, convents and other buildings devoted to religious uses, are
imposing structures of stone, erected at a large cost. The clergy are seen at
every turn, and the French language is heard in every house. Save at the
hotels and some public offices, the thousands of English who have passed
through Rimouski have done very little to leave the sound of their tongue or
the impress of their journey.

The Rimouski River is the first important salmon rivier below Quebec,
and it is under lease. Strangers who are sportsman and genticinen, have,
however, often been permitted to fish in its waters, which extend to a lake
close to the boundary of New Baunswick, and from which only a short
portage is necessary to reach the rivers Quatawamkedgwick (commonly known
as the Tomkedgwick) and the Restigouche, by means of which a canoe can
reach the Baie des Chaleurs. The salmon of the Rimouski are not of the
largest size, averaging less than twenty pounds, but there are plenty of them,
as well ^s an abundance of trout. The latter fish are easily to be had by
those who go after them, for there are about fifty lakes, large and small,

within the county. At Seven Lakes, 25 miles from the village, three men
have caught forty dozen trout in three days. As for shooting, the woods are
ful' of all kinds of game, from the caribou to the partridge.

The village offers many attractions to families who seek a quiet summer
with all the enjoyments of the sea side. There are excellent facilities for salt-
water fishing, boating and bathing, the shore being protected from roughness
of water by the island of St, Barnabi, which lies a short distance off.

This island, which has borne its name since early in the seventeenth
century, is about two miles long, contains a small lake, is well wooded and
is a favoiite lesoii /or picnics. It has its story, and a very touching one.
There are several versions of it, but that given by Monseigneur Guay, in his
Chronique de Himouski, is probably the most authentic. So far as can be
gleaned from all sources, this is the story of the hermit :

The fair land of Old France held no hearts more in unison than were those
ofToussaint Cartier and his betrothed Louise when the new year of 1723
dawned. Just turned of manhood, handsome in person, versed in ki^owledge
of books and agreeable in manners, he was the envy of the lads of his native
village. He had long known the beautiful Louise, and they had learned to
love each other with a love surpassing the power of words to tell. She was
the daughter of a rich man of high degree, who had pledged her at an early
age to the profligate son of his wealthy neighbor. Toussaint was poor, and
his poverty became a crime in the sight of the lucre-loving father, but, as is
ever the case, opposition served only to cement the stronger the affections of
the devoted pair. They were secretly married and embarked for Quebec, to
seek a home in the land of which so much had been told. The voyage was
a prosperous one. The ship reached the St. Lawrence and lay becalmed off
Rimouski. The day was fine and young Cartier took a boat to visit He St.
Barnabe. While he was ashore a fearful tempest arose, and the vessel and all
on board were engulfed before his eyes. The body of Louise was soon after
washed ashore on the island, where Toussaint buried il and made a solemn
vow to dwell there in solituae for the remainder of his days. This vow he
faithfully observed, living a life of deep religious devotion, year after year,
until his locks were silvered with age. All who knew him revered him, even
the birds loved him and came to feed out of his hand ; but his heart was
broken, and he watched year by year pass by, counting each as a step nearer
to his reunion with the one of whose smile through life he had been so sadly
deprived. Forty odd seasons passed, and at length one January morning he
was found lying dead on the floor of his humble abode. The lovers were
united at last. His remains were buried within the old church of Rimouski,
and to this day his name is honored as that of an holy man.

Six miles below Rimouski is Father Point, so well-known as a telegraph
and signal station in connection with ocean steamers, and to it there is a
charming drive along the shore. Four miles above the town is village of

li'— rnnKBt.

Sacre Coeur, where there is a beautiful and well sheltered beach and admir-
able opportunities for boating and sea bathing.

Soon after leaving Rimouski the St. Lawrence is lost sight of, and the road
makes its way toward the Metapedia Valley. Ste. Flavie, eighteen miles
from Rimouski, is a place of some importance, and is the terminus of the
well-known highway, the Kempt Road, built at a heavy expense and sj long
used for a mail route between the upper and lower provinces. Here wa begin
to take leave of the French pure and simple, and enter a countn where
English is spoken to a greater extent. In the midst of the woods s Little
Metis Station, not a place over which one could grow enthusiastic, but never-
theless leading by a road of about six miles to the beautiful watering place of

.4'

Little metis.

Three score and ten years ago the Seigneur of Metis was a Mr. McNider,
whose name has such a genuine Caledonian ring that no one will imagine that
he was a Frenchman. Warmly attached to the place, and fully impressed
with its beauties, there was yet one defect which grieved his heart. Nature
had neither located Metis in Scotland nor sent the ScQtch to Metis. This
want he detennined to supply, and the result was the arrival of several hun-
dred men, women, and children, from Old Scotia. These were located in
several parts of the Seigneury, and aided by Mr. McNider until their farms
became adequate to supply their wants. Since then they have prospered,
and Metis is a flourishing fanning district. What is more to the purpc se of
the tourist, it is one of the most pleasant places on the shore for those who
are seeking to enjoy the summer months. Numbers have already found out
its beauties, but there is room for many more. It is at Metis that Lord Mount
Stephen, has his famous fishing lodge, the finest in Canada, at which the
Duke and Duchess of Connaught were guests during their visit in 1890. The
building is designed with every regard to comfort and a striking feature of its
interior is the finish of polished woods brought from' the other extreme of the
Dominion on the Pacific coast.

Little Metis is situated on the shore of the St. Lawrence, at a point where
the estuary l>egin8 to widen out so that the opposite shore is a faint line in
the distance and much of the horizon is as level as upon the ocean. This
gives the 'ace more of the air of a sea-side resort than many less favored
watering places, and the salt waves rolling in upon the sandy beach confirm
the impression. The beach is about four miles long, hard, smooth, and safe
for bathers. On some parts of it the surf beats with a sullen roar ; yet num-
erous covea, sheltered from the swell, afford every security, as well as absolute
privacy, to the bather. Boats, of all sizes, from a skiff to a schooner, are
available to the visitor, and if one desires to run across to the other shore he
will find safe and swift vessels crossing every day. If a party desire to have a
good time and feel free and independent, they can charter a small schooner
for about $3 a day, secure a good sailing master, lay in a supply of pro-

rt>

•4

visions, and gowliere tliey please. Tlie St. I^wrence is between thirty and
forty miles wide in this part, so there is plenty of room for excursionists at all
times.

On shore, in addition to the bathing, the attractions are abundant. First
of all there are good hotels, and the visitor has his choice. Board is very
reasonable, averaging about a dollar a day. If one prefer a private boarding
house, he can find good accommodation for about five dollars a week. Be-
sides this, nearly every farmer has a spare house which can be hired for about
$60 for the season, including water and fuel. The weirs furnish a plentiful
supply of fresh fish, while other provisions, including berries of all kinds and
dairy products, are to be had in abundance. jr^jj^^ ^ number of re-
) sidents of Montreal and other JmS^^^^^^ i^ places have
^ villas here.

FALLS OF THE GRAND AND PETIT METIS RIVERS.

The Grand and Little Metis rivers are favorite haunts of the salmon, and
trout are found v/herever there is a lake or brook. The best places to secure
the latter fish are at Metis Lakes, the nearest of which is about three miles
from the centre of the village. Further back is a chain of lakes,^all contain-
ing plenty of large trout, and ail comparatively easy of access.

The country in the rear of Metis is a resort for herds of caribou. Geese,
duck, and sea-fowl are found all along the shore, while partridge are met with
in every part of the woods.

The scenery is varied and attractive. One may drive for miles along the
shore and enjoy the panorama and the sea breeze until weary. Inland, are
beautiful vales with nooks and brooks and charming bits of landscape. All
the farmers have waggons to hire, and drives may be had at a small expense.
One of these is to the falls, seven miles away. Here a heavy body of water
pours over the rocks with a grandeur which must be seen to be appreciated.
Both Grand and Petit Metis rivers have waterfalls, situated amid most en-
chanting scenes of the forest.

Further along the shore is the Matane, a small river, but with an abun-
dance of salmon and trout. It was by this river, so long ago as the time of
Champlain, that the Indians of the Baie des Chaleurs reached the St. Law-
rence, by way of the Restigouche and Metapedia rivers, making a portage from
Metapedia Lake. Matane is in favor as a summer resort, and like Metis is
accessible both by rail and steamer. There was fishing here before the tourist
came with his rod and Hies, but it was purely commercial in its aspect. As
long ago as 1688 Sieur Riverin established a fishery, and thrived until his
wicked partner defrauded him. He found all the shore, for a distance of
sixty miles, very abundant in codfish, while whales were common every-
where from Matane to Cap de Rosiers, a distance of nearly of 250 miles.
So plenty were they near Matane that at one period, for the space of three
months, as many as fifty would be seen on the surface at one lime, within
less than two miles from the shore. So tame were they that men could
approach near enough to hit them with oars. Sieur Riverin, filled with
visions of wealth, formed a company to prosecute whaling, and succeeded in
getting swindled.

Leaving the St. Lawrence, the course of the traveller is south to the
Metapedia Valley, Passing Tartague the railway, which has kept clear of
the mountain ranges by following the shore for two hundred miles, makes a
bold push and crosses the hills at Malfait Lake. Here the traveller is
nearly 750 feet above the sea, higher than he has been since he left Quebec,
and higher than he can be on any other part of the line. Down the grade
the cars go, until again on the level in the midst of a beautiful valley, where
the hills rise on each side six and eight hundred teet for a distance of many
miles. The French villages are no longer seen ; the French names are no
longer heard. In the place of the latter come the titles bestowed by the
Indians who once peopled the land. Some of these words are musical, after
you get used to them. No doubt they were musical Jto Algonquin ears when
uttered by Algonquin tongues ; but the true pronunciation of many of them
is lostj and as the Indians had no written language Jthere is no rule as to how
they should be spelled. Some of them are believed ] to have had poetical
meanings, but there is a good deal more fancy than fact in many of the in;

itti

terpretations. It is just as well, however, to attach some poetry to them, for
thus they are in harmony with the surroundings. The Metapedia really
should be the poet's paradise.

It is supposed to have been somewhere in this vicinity that the first and
last of the Aboriginal Spring Poets ventured to warble. His effusion is
believed to have consisted of a hundred and sixteen stanzas. He desired his
chief's opinion as to their fitness for publication. The criticism was promptly
given, for, when the poet had reached the end of the fifth stanza, he was
gagged, trie/I and condemned to the stake, as a warning to spring poets for
all time. I'he summary judgment had its effect on succeeding generations,
and the Indian of to-day, even though warmed with Sabian wine, or North
Shore gin, is rarely prone to drop nto poetry. Tradition says that the verses,
as recited, were :

ODE TO SPRING.

Hail, Metapediac ! Upon thy shore
The Souriquois may sweet seclusion seek ;
Cidaraqui distracts his thoughts no more,
Nor seeks he gold from Souleamuagadeek.

Hail, Keshpugowitk, calm Causapscal,

Tartague, Tobegote and Sayabec,

Amqui Wa|,ansis, Peske-Ammik — all

The scenes which Nature doth with glory deck.

At Assametquaghan and at Upsalquitch
The busy beaver builds his little dam ;
His sisters, cousins and bis aunts grow rich
At Patapediac and Obstchquasqiiam.

I've wandered by the Qua-ta-wam-kedg-wick,
The Madawaska and the famed Loostook,
The Temiscouata, Kamouraska, Bio ;
I've climbed the hill of Villidadamook.

And everywhere do thoughts of spring arise,
Skudakumoochwakaddy speaks to Restigouche.
Hail, brother Mareschites and Abnakies !
Hail, balmy mouth of Amuss.^'ikizoos !

Gachepe, Kigicapigiok, Tracadfequash —

The exultant poet had not observed the gathering cloud on the chiefs
swarthy brow, and the hills echoed with his loud accentuation of the ante-
penultimate. An instant later he was rudely seized, and Skudakumooch-
wakaddy, the Spirit Land, received him ere the set of sun. This was the first
and last appearance of the spring poet among the Red Men.

3«

METAPEDIAC LAKE AND VALLEY.

Beyond Sayabec lies Lake Metapediac. It is the noblest sheet of inland
water seen along the route. All lakes have a beauty which appeals to the
imaginative mind, but this, enshrined among the mountains, must impress
the most prosaic nature. About sixteen miles in length, and stretching out
in parts to the width of five miles, its ample area gives it a dignity with which
to wear its beauty. Embosomed on its tranquil waters lie isles rich in
verdure, among which the canoe may glide amid scenes that wake the artist's
soul to ecstacy. The shores are a fitting frame to so fair a picture. Here,
too, will the sportsman never ply his craft in vain. These clear waters are
the home of the salmon, and kings among the fishes await the angler's
pleasure.

The outlet of the lake is the famed Metapediac River. It is usually
spelled without the final " c," and some use an " a " instead of the first " e."
It is a matter of taste, but it is highly probable no one of the three is like the
true Indian word. Cascapediac, for instance, is a corruption of Kigicapigiac,
and probably the original of Metapediac is something even worse. It is well
not to be too particular, for this corruption of the native dialect is generally
an improvement, so far as relates to the ease of pronounciation by the tongues
of white men. The name is said to denote Musical Waters, and the title is
well deserved. Through the green valley it winds in graceful curves, singing
the music of the waters as it runs. In thirty miles of its course it has 222
rapids, great jirid small, now swift and deep, now gently rippling over beds of
sihining gravel and golden sand. Here and there are the deeper pools in
which lurk salmon of astounding size, for this is one of the salmon streams of
which every fisherman has heard. For mile after mile the traveller watches
the course of the river, so strangely pent in by the mountains on either hand,
rising in every shape which mountains can assume. Some are almost perfect
cones ; others rise swiftly into precipices ; and others have such gentle slopes
that one feels that he would like to stroll leisurely upward to the summit,
but the height, as <* r'jle, is from six hundred to eight hundred feet. In some
places in the Metapediac the river, the highway, and the r. H' iy, crowd each
other for a passage, so narrow is the valley. All kin'^ of foliage, and all
shades of Nature's colors are upon the hillside*^ >d in the autumn, when
the grand transformation of hues takes a* e.
description. Grassy banks make e.i -«
fish dart from the pools to seize h;
the charms of retirement can be f<'H» n a i>^ ^m
lives in miniature amid the mountanib .vhile F gland and Scotland are around
the lakes, streams and springy heather.

For year after year this glorious count v was far reu :ved fr 1 the path
of travellers, save those whose necessities obliged them to ti;; ' the mili-
tary road to Ste. Flavie. The building of the railway has oj a it to the

■nagnificent beyond

igler, as the lordly

v'erywhere ; here all

aradise. Switzerland

world, and thousands are now familiar with it where hundreds had heard of
it in other years. It is a country which has attractions for all. Those who
seek the beautiful in Nature may here find it, while those who are disciplei
of Nimrod or Walton will find the days only too short, and the weeks passing
away all too swiftly.

GUN AND ROD IN THE METAPEDIAC.

Some moose are still to be traced in the vicinity of the Metapediac valley,
out if one seeks for them he will do better by penetrating the wilds of the
Gdspd peninsula. Caribou, however, are still to be found in abundance in all
parts of the country, and the trapper will be at no loss to find the haunts of
the beaver and many other fur-bearing animals. Partridge are to be had very-
wehere, close to the line of railway, and very often can be shot without
leaving the track.

The Metapediac owes its chief fame to the salmon fishing, which is found
everywhere for at least forty miles along the course of the stream, to say
nothing of the other rivers by which it is joined. One of these is the Causapscal,
and some rare fishing is enjoyed at the forks, where the Princess Louise once
landed a forty-pound salmon. Further up, the Causapscal is rather rough
along its banks, and merits its name, which means, in the English tongue,
the Rocky River.

The Metapediac and its tributaries are not suffering for lack of apprecia*
tion. The fishing rights are largely owned by wealthy Americans, who spend
their time and money without stint in the enjoyment of thei alluring sport.
The Restigouche Salmon Club, composed chiefly of promment citizens of
New Vork, has a splendid club house at ^'.e junction of the Metapediac and
Restigouche rivers.

The best fishing in this vicinity is from the middle of June to the middle
of July. Trout may be caught with ease all through the season, not only in
the rivers but at such places as Amqui and Trout lakes. The Metapediac
trout are as large as some fish which pass for salmon in other countries.
Where forty and fifty pound salmon exists seven \iov \d trout are only in pro-
portion, as they should be. At Assametquaghan (a place more beautiful than
its name), at McKinnon Brook, and at Mill Stream, will be found particu-
larly good fishing. A party of two men has gone out of an afternoon and
remained until noon the next day, securing nearly 250 pounds of troui, each
one averaging four pounds in weight, but many running as high as seven
pounds.

The last of the Metapediac is seen at the village which bears the name of
the river, at the junction with the Restigouche. It is a place of singular
beauty, and ihe eye lingers lovingly pn fi.e beautiful panorama as it passes
fr'^m the view and the train rushes oiv<tatd to the boundary of New Bruns-
wick. Here we catch sight of the River Restigouche, spanned by a beautiful
railway bridge, over a thousand feet in length. A few miles beyond, the

- iss'Tsss/^:

train passes through the tunnel on Mcrrissey's Rock, on the side of Prospect
Mountain. This is the only tunnel through which trains pass, though, hidden
from the eye of the ordinary trP'Hler, are a number of others by which rivers
have been diverted in the work of construction. There are, however, miles of
snow-sheds, which answer the purposes of tunnels, so far a,o linked darkness,
long rlrawn out, is concerned.

At the Head of the Tide a bright picture meets the eye. The river is
thickiy dotted with iow-lying islands, rich with meadow land, their hues of
green co: traoting finely with the silver surface of the river. In truth, this
part of the road is a succession of bright pictures — a panorama, wherein are
shown some of Nature's fairest scenes. For seventy miles or so, the journey
has been through the valley, but when the Restigouche is reached there is a
change in the picture. In the fourteen miles that lie between the bridge and
the village of Campbellton there is much to admire in the broad river, dotted
with picturesque islands, and in the distant mountains, with their varied hues,
outlined against the northern sky.'

A PROVINCIAL POSSIBILITY.

Campbcilton, the first stopping place in New Brunswick, is a village with
great possibilities. It is conveniently situated, because it is a central point on
the line of the Intercolonial, neither too far south for th« people who are
above it, nor too far north for those who are below. It is 303 miles from
Quebec, 3T1 from Halifax, and 274 from St. John, and it lies amidst one of
the finest regions for sport on the continent. The Restigouche and Meta-
pediac, with their tributaries, afford only a part of the splendid fishing to be
had, while the land to the west and the north contains all manner of game to
entice the sportsman to its forests. Besides, Campbellton looks into the fair
and famous Bai^ des Chaleurs, which is of itself worth coming from afar to
sail upon ; and it is convenient as a cool, but not cold, summer resori,, with
every facility for saltwater baining, salt-water fishing and a good time gen-
erally. The situation is beautiful, because Campbellton lies at a point where
a broad and beautiful river unites with the waters of a bay which has no rival
in Canada. Beautifu', because the mountains rise near and far, their cones
pointing heavenward with a grandeur not to be described, while the varying
shades are blended with a harmony which all may admire, but which can be
appreciated only by the artist. When Campbellton has a St. Lawrence Hall,
like that at Cacouna, it will be a place which no one can afford to miss.

One of the finest views to be had is from the top of the Sugar Loaf, a
mountain about a mile and a half above the town. Do not be alarmed when
the people tell you that the summit is nearly a thousand feet high. The high-
est measurenent it ever got was by the reflecting circle of Sir Howard Doug-
las, which gave 844. Later and better authority makes it 730 feet. That is
high enough to give you a magnificent view, and, as the mountain side is pre-
cipitous, you will be (juite as tired as if you went up a thousand feet on any

ordinary mountain. After you get up, look to the north and the grand old
mountains of Gasp6 are before you ; to the south is a smiling country rich in
vegetation ; while to the southward and eastward lie the Restigouche and the
Baie des Chaleurs, with Dalhousie and the other flourishing places of the
North. The scenery has been called superior to that of the Susquehanna.
Whether it is or not can be best judged by those who have seen both places.
Another good view is to be had from the top of Morrissey's Rock — in fact,
there are fine views everywhere, and no toll-gates on the roads to them.

Across from Campbellton, on the northern side of the boundary, River
Restigouche, is Cross Point, the old Oiginagich, or Coiled Snake Point, of
the Micmacs, where Woodanki, or Indian Town, dates its beginning far back
among the centuries. There is now an Indian reserve of 840 acres, inhabited
by 120 families, with a population of about 500 natives, very few of whom do
not sho'.y an admixture of white blood. Here is a F siiian Catholic mission,
which has been sustained for more than two hundred years. As long ago as
1675 P^re Chrestien Le Cierc used to come from Perce at Christmastide and
on Ste. Anne's day, and he was the first to educate the savages and teach
them the Christian faith. After twelve years of arduous labor, he was suc-
ceeded by Pdre Peter Maillard, known as " the Apostle of the Micmacs,"
who came from one of the seminaries of Paris to make his home in the wilder-
ness. For forty y ars he labored among this benighted people, and having
mastered their language, translated nearly all the New Testament, as well as
all the pra;ers and offices of the Church. Later, he was made prisoner by
the English, sent to Boston and from there to France. V^ears afterwards the
English Government called him to Halifax to use his influence in keeping
peace between the Indians and the white settlers. He was given a stipend of
$1,000 a year and a chapel, the first in Halifax, was built for him. All was
peace after his arrival, and during his remaining years he continued to labor
as a missionary along the hundreds of miles of coast which lie between Hali-
fax, Miramichi and Labrador.

Cross Point once sent an ambassador to England to persuade the Queen
that his people were entitled to more than they were getting. His mission
was not crowned with success, but, having tasted the delights of English city
life, he remained abroad for many years, returning at last to his native village.
His iiame was Peter asket.

The Indian population ai Cross Point changes little from year to year.
An mcrease of forty or so is the record of half a century. Several years ago,
Sam Suke, the then chief, took a very gloomy view of the situation, and
declared that strong tea, wet feei and rum caused consumption among his
people, and that the race was fast passing away. Some of the present gener-
ation appear very comfortable in the small frame houses \thich have taken the
place of the camps, and during the summer many of them earn good wages
by acting as guides, in wfiich they are experts. The simple faith of the red
man is sadly misplaced at times, iiowever, wh ^n by his improvidence he finds

himself very poor when the summer is past and the prospect of hunger and
cold faces him for the long and dreary winter.

Both boating and bathing may be enjoyed to any desired extent in the
waters around Campbellton, and the fame of the Restigouche salmon and trout
speaks as to the fishing. It was a Restigouche salmon that tipped the scale
at fifty-four pounds, and numbers have been caught which were of the respect-
able weight of forty pounds each. Salmon fishing begins about the middle of
May, and all the rivers abound with these great and glorious fish.

Fishing for the abnormally large trout already mentioned is i...d both in
summer and winter. It 's usual to begin fishing through the ice about the
first of March. After the river is clear, early in May, plenty of five and seven
pound trout can be caught in the tide with bait. From the middle of May
until July they will take either fly or bait, but for good fly-fishing take the
month of July, riere are some of the favorite haunts : Escuminac, 1 5 miles
distant; Little Nouvelle, 22 ; little Cascapedia, about 45 or 50 by steamer;
Parker Lake, 3 ; Head of Tide, 5 ; and Mission Lake, 3 miles from Cross Point
on the opposite side of the river. Guides are easily obtained and are reliable
men.

The nvers in question are on the north side of the Baie des Chaleurs, in
the Province of Quebec, and further reference is made to them on another
page. As regards the lakes in the immediate vicinity at Campbellton, the
man who seeks for trout will never be disappointed. The favorite resorts
are Parker Lake and inner Parker Lake, the former of which has a wide fame.
It is not a large body of water, as lakes go in this country, but in its length of
half a mile or so every square yard would appear to contain a trout weighing
from half a pound to two pounds. !t is of no avail, however, to go there
with fancy tackle and a book of assorted flies, for save at occasional times
in the month of June the fish will not be tempted to rise to the surface. The
favorite bait is the agile grasshopper, and it never fails to do its work. One
of the many instances of successful fishing here, within the writer's knowledge,
is that of three men who in *hree hours filled a huge wooden bread tray and
two large fishing baskets, and were then obliged to leave a quantity of trout
because they had no way of carrying them home, even though the road to
Campbellton was all down hill. Parker Lake is situated on the back of Sugar
Loaf Mountain, and the ascent to it is a trifle toilsome, but an hour or two
around it will well repay even a climb on foot. Good camping ground is
found here, as indeed is almost invariably the case with the lakes in this part
of America. The lake is on private property, but a gentleman will not find
it difficult to obtain a permit to satisfy himself as to its resources. Station
Agent Bavbarie, or any of the hotel-keepers, can give him all the information
he desires ^., to the fishing in any part of this country.

In the autumn and spring the wild geese hover around the shores of the
Restigouche in immense flocks, while all the many species of duck known to
this latitude are on the wing by thousands. Nor do the wild fowl look up-

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on the mouth of the Restigouche as a mere way station in their journey.
They linger there, and where there is open water they are prone to linger
long. The Baie des Chaleurs and the rivers that empty into it have been
their favorite haunts since a " time whereof the memory of man runneth not to
the contrary." A few years ago a man killed fourteen black duck at one shot,
on the Little Muni river.

As a matter of course partridge are plenty, and so are snipe, in their
season. Plover are found at times, but not in large numbers.

Caribou are very abundant on both sides of the river. They occasion-
ally show themselves around the barnyards of farmers in the smaller settle-
ments, and it is only a few years since one was caught at the railway freight
house in Campbellton. Moose and deer cannot now be legally killed, in New
Brunswick, until after the year 1892. Before 1889 they could be had by the
man who knew how to look for them, and one of their resorts was between
Patapediac and Tracy Brook. On the Nouvelle River, north shore, William
Murray, of Campbellton, once shot four of the kingly creatures in one day.

The bear and the loup cervier are generally encountered when least
looked for, but as long as the blueberries remain on the bushes the former are
usually to^be found on the barrens.

ON THE RESTIGOUCHE RIVER.

The Restigouche is part of the northern boundary of New Brunswick,
and if its length of two hundred miles were in a straight line it would reach
quite across the province. The line is not only not straight, but makes some
extraordinary bends between its source near Lake Metis, and its mouth at
Baie des Chaleurs. The distance between Metapediac and Patapediac, for
instance, is 37 miles by the river, but only 21 miles in a direct line. It is but
six and a half miles from Upsalquitch to Brandy Brook by land, but it is not
less than thirteen miles by the river. Even more remarkable is the bend at
Cross Point, a few miles further up, where a walk of four hundred yards or so
across a strip of land will save a journey of about a mile by water. Yet the
river is not really crooked; it simply has abrupt bends, with long stretches of
straight distances between them. The occasional rapids are not dangerous,
and a canoe voyage over the broad and beautiful stream is an experience
• "hich must be long and pleasantly remembered. The high and thickly
wooded hills form steep banks in many places, and their rich verdure is re-
flected in the calm waters as in a mirror. Looking farther into the clear depths
the salmon may be seen moving lazily on the pebbled bottom, waiting only
for the tempting fly to lure them to the surface. This is no uncommon sight
on any part of the Restigouche. Even at the railway bridge as many as a hun-
dred salmon have been seen swimming slowly around at one time, and it i«!
probable that more or less of them could be seen almost any day in the season
were the train to stop so that the passengers could have a look at the v/ater,

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It is no idle boast to say that the Restigouche is the finest sahnon river in
the world.

Some ma • wonder that the Indians, with their matter-of-fact habits of
nomenclature, did not bestow the title of the River of Fish on this noble
stream. That they failed to do so may be accounted for on two grounds :
First, that salmon weie then even more abundant in all the rivers than they
are to-day ; and next, because they had another and more significant title.
The word "Restigouche"' has had various interpretations given it. Many
have believed that it signifies " river that divides like a hand," but the late
Sam Suke was of opinion that those words were the translation of *' Upsal-
quitch." Others have asserted, upon some unnamed authority, that Resti-
gouche is " Broad River," but the best evidence is that given by the old
missionary chronicles, which give the meaning as " River of the Long War."
The traditions of that war have perished, even as the meanings of the ancient
names of the country are well nigh forgotten by the Indtdns of the later days.

The aboriginal designation of all this region was Papechigunach, the
place of spring amusements, which doubtless had reference to some great an-
nual pow-wow in the times of peace. It is the place of the white man's sum-
mer sport to-day.

The head waters of the river lie near Lake Metis in one direction and
the tributaries of the St. John in another, and for much of its length it flows
through a dense wilderness as yet undesecrated by man. The country
drained by it and its tributaries includes more than two thousand square miles
in Quebec and New Brunswick, and is a land of mountains and valleys — the
former rising grandly two thousand feet towards the clouds ; the latter having
forests, in which solitude and silence reign. In these regions there are lakes
where the beaver has no one to molest nor make it afraid ; ti">ere are gorges
whose rocks have never echoed the report of a gun ; there a p miles upon
miles which have never been explored, and where the creatures of the forest
roam as freely as they did a hundred years ago. One can retire into the heart
of New Brunswick and reach rivers which lead to all points, such as the
Tobique and St. John, Nepisiguit, Miramichi, and others of lesser note, as
well as the rivers which run to the St. Lawrence.

The estuary of the Restigouche is a beautifui sheet of water, more like a
lake than the outlet of a river. It extends from Dalhousie to where the tide
and the fresh water meet, eight miles below Metapediac, and in some places
is three miles wide. Ascending the river, the first place of interest is the site
of Petit Rochelle, three miles above Point Bourdo, destroyed by the British,
under Captain Byron, in July, 1760. Byron, with a fleet of five vessels, at-
tacked four French vessels which had run up the stream to this point. After
five hours of fierce combat, two of the French frigates were sunk. The re-
maining two sought shelter under the stone battery at Indian Village, but in
doing so one of them, Le Marquis de Marloize, went ashore, leaving Le Bien-
faisant at fearful odds against the five vessels of the English. The captain

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was ordered to liaul down his flag, but instead of obeying, he went below, ap-
plied a light to the magazine and blew his vessel to atoms. Byron then went
ashore with his men and burned the villages at Bourdo and Petit Rochelle,
and only the ruins of what was then a place with a population of 300 families
are to be seen at the present day. It is not many years since the remains of
the hulls of the sunken frigates could be seen at the bottom of the river, and
many interesting relics of the fight have, from time to time, been found and
preserved.

Passing the mouth of the Metapediac, a distance of seven miles brings
the voyageur to the mouth of the Upsalquitch, the " river that divides like a
hand." Here is seen Squaditch, or the Squaw Cap, a mountain 2,oco feet in
height, and if one cares to ascend to Upsalquitch Lake he will find another
conical cap which rises to the height of 2,186 feet. Should he continue his
journey beyond the lake, he will reach the head waters of the Nepisiguit, by
which he can reach Baie des Chaleurs at Bathurst, or the head waters of the
Tobique, by which he can descend the St. John to the Bay of P'undy.

He will not do this until he has seen the Restigouche, and it may be
that before he leaves the latter river he will choose himself a site for a sum-
mer habitation, or, possibly, a camping ground for a hunting lodge in the
winter on its upper waters. At one place, known as Chain of Rocks, Mr.
Andrews, of New York, had a very snug house a few years ago, and though
it was afterwards swept away in a heavy freshet, it is probable that he felt
well repaid for his trouble by the recollection of the fact that the river at this
point had made him the proud captor of a fifty-pound salmon.

Another instance of a wealthy settler is that of a Southern gentleman
who bought a farm which an industrious granger had cleared, about fifty
miles from the mouth of the river. There was no salmon pool near at hand,
but the purcliaser made art assist nature, and constructed one by a judicious
arrangement of the rocks in the water. The results fully justified his trouble.

About twenty-nine miles above the Upsalquitch is the Patapediac, by
which tlie Metis and other rivers emptying into the Lower St. Lawrence may
be reached. Then comes the Quatawamkedgwick, and a trip of about six
miles up its waters will bring the angler to a spot famous for seven and eight
pound sea trout. This river leads to the head waters of the Rimouski.

By following the Restigouche into the \V'^agansis, a portage of about
three miles will bring one to the Grand River, a tributary of the St. John.
The Temiscouata and Squatook Lakes may also be reached — indeed, the by-
paths in the wilderness are innumerable, for streams run in all directions.
All of any size are safe for canoe navigation, even with ladies in the party,
and all abound with the finest of fish.

The Restigouche is not under lease above the Quatawamkedgwick, as
its upper waters are not notably good for salmon fishing. Below that point,
the main river and the streams running into it are in the hands of lessees,
who pay rentals amounting to nearly $S,ooo, while a few years ago the

(■

amount was but a little over $2,000. Under these circumstances, the waters
are well protected, and some of the streams are not fished, being preserved
that the Restigouche may reap the benefit. The Quatawamkedgwick is one
of these, though the Restigouche Salmon Club pays $1,000 a year for the
right, and the salaries of two guardians each season. The New Brunswict
portion of the Patapediac is held in the same way, but at a less cost. The
Upsalquitch, held by an American gentleman, who pays $570 a year and the
salaries of two guardians for the privilege of an annual average catch of fifty
salmon. The waters of the Restigouche for ten miles below the Quatawam-
kedgwick, except where riparian proprietors have rights, are leased to another
American lor $1,280 per annum. It will be seen by these figures, which are
given on the authority of Fishery Commissioner J. Henry Phair, that the gen-
tlemen who frequent these waters for a few weeks each season, are prepared
to pay for their sport. Take, for instance, the season of 1889, during
which 1130 salmon, with an average weight of 22]!i^ lbs., were killed on the
main river. A statement furnished by J. Robinson, the manager of the Club,
shows that the amount paid for rents, labor, provisions, etc., not including
such incidentals as servants' wages, railway fares and express charges,
amounted to $29,162, or more than $25 for every fish captured. Had they
merely wanted salmon for the sake of eating them, they might have saved
money by making their purchases at Faneuil Hall or Fulton Market.

It is quite evident that was not the idea, for the salmon caught in 1 890
cost even more, the average being nearly $37 each. The number killed was
about 1480, and the expenses were $54,614. Here are the items :

Expended for scowing $ 900

do canoeing 7)'94

do provisions Ajoij

Rents to Government 7,800

do pnvate owners 2,070

Filling ice houses , 250

Guardians 4,000

Interest on land purchases 3i2oo

Amount exp>ended for purchasing riparian rights 21 ,000

Expended for new buildings and purchase of land 3i5oo

Total $54,614

DALHOUSIE.

One of the fairest spots on the line of the Intercolonial is found at the
town of Dalhousie. Even when this place was not connected with the rail-
road it attracted large numbers of visitors, and now that it is so easy of
access it is one of the most popular of summer resort?. Its location at the
mouth of the Restigouche, where the glorious Baie des Chaleurs begins,
would in any event make the site one of unusual beauty ; but nature has done
much for Dalhousie in giving it hills and heights which command a prospect
of sea and land as far as the eye can reach. All varieties of scenery may here

be found, from the gently murmuring groves to the rugged rocks of most
fantastic form which in places skirt the shore. The harbor, with a depth of
more than ten fathoms, and in places from fifteen to twenty fathoms, is an
excellent one for all purposes. Protected by a natural breakwater of islands,
it is perfectly safe for all kinds of boating, and is large enough to afford
an abundance of room for recreation. Beyond it are the broad river
Restigouche and the Baie des Chaleurs. Fine beaches and water of
moderate temperature tempt the bather. The sheltered position of the
place gives it a freedom from raw winds, and fog, that terror of so
many tourists, is never known around this shore. It is not only a spot
where the strong and healthy may enjoy themselves, but it is one where the
weak may become strong, and the invalid take a new lease of life.

Dalliousie has a special attraction for those who desire to enjoy the
comforts and luxuries of a fashionable watering place. The Inch Arran
House is to the Maritime Provinces what the St. Lawrence Hall, at Cacouna,
is to the Province of Quebec — the leading sea-side hotel. It is beautifully
situated, close to the shore, and has at its doors a long stretch of beach on
which the most timid need not fear to experience the delights of salt water
bathing. The hotel itself is admirably designed, and has accommodation for
300 people. Every sleeping apartment is of good size, well lighted, and so
situated as to command a plea'-ant view of tiie Bay or the surroundi.ig
country. Were the house crowded to nearly its full capacity no reason ible
man would be found to complain that he had arrived too late to get a good
room. About 200 jiersons can be comfortably seated around the table.' in the
dining hall at one time, and should the weather be unpleasant, they can take
their after-dinner promenade on the unusually broad piazza, which extends
around the main building to the length of a fifth of a mile.

The view from the Inch Arran is such as to charm every lover of the
beautiful. To the north the bay at the mouth of the Restigouche is only
about six miles wide, so that Point Maguasha and the hills on the Gaspe side
are seen to the best advantage. Nearer at hand, the varying shades of the
summer foliage are seen in striking contrast with the bright red rock which
here and there stands out in bold relief upon the hillside. To the southward
and westward La Baie des Chaleurs widens to the magnificent proportions
which entitle it to the name of a sea, while as far as the eye can reach along
its southern shore are seen the white houses and the tapering spires of the
distant villages.

The visitor to Dalhousie need never lack for recreation, apart from the
sailing, bathing and fishing. There are good roads, and they are never
muddy. They dry quickly after the heaviest rains, and it is always a pleasure
to drive over them. They lead to many pleasant places, and one of these is
Mount Dalhousie, two miles from the Inch Arran. The road to it has not
been kept in as good repair as it should be, because it has not been much
used, but in the future it is likely to have the attention it deserves. From this

mountain there is a fine view of the country, but notably attractive is that
which embraces Campbeilton and the Restigouche River.

Boats and boatmen can be had at the beach at all times, and excursions
may be made to various parts of the bay at a moderate cost. The favorite
trips are to Carleton and Maguasha, on the Gasp^ side, and Eel River and
Charlo, on the New Brunswick shore. Should one wish to see all the Gaspi
coast, as far as Perc6, 140 miles, a staunch steamer leaves Dalhousie twice a
week, and $3.50 will cover the cost of the passage. There is much to be seen
and enjoyed on tiie trip.

Dalhousie beach, in the vicinity of the hotel, gives opportunities for many
pleasant strolls. Some curious rocks are to be seen along the shore, and
among them is a natural stone archway. Further on, a little research may
be rewarded by the finding of good specimens of fossil remains. About a
mile from the hotel is an interesting relic of the French occupancy, in the
form of a house of unpretentious exterior, having an interior <7nish of carved
mahoganay, the work of Parisian artists.

The town of Dalhousie has a number of hotels, and some of them have long
enjoyed an excellent reputation with the general public. Some of the most
genial soul:} on the North Shore — and that is saying a great deal — are to be
found within a radius of a mile or so from the court house of this the shire-
town of the country. It is a busy town, also, shipping not only large
quantities of the lumber manufactured by its mills, but a good deal of that
which is the product of the mills of Campbeilton. Ships carrying the flags of
all commercial nations lie at its wharves, and the captains who get acquainted
with the men who are worth knowing always take leave with the hope of an
early return.

ALONG THE CASPE SHORE.

The steamer that leaves Dalhousie twice a week for Perc6, calls at all the
places of interest on the Gaspc coast. Among these are Carleton, New
Richmond, New Carlisle, Paspebiac and Port Daniel, and such famous fishmg
rivers as the Cascapedia, Bonaventure, Escuminac and Nouvelle, Little
Pabos and others. Of these, the most famous is the Cascapedia, the river
of the Governor General of Canada. Salmon weighing within a few ounces
of fifty two pounds are not at all uncot imon. Let it not be thought, however,
the record of big fish has been beat^-n here, for a sixty-three pound salmon
was once found in the nets at the mouth of the Restigouche. To take a
fifty pounder with a fly, even ra the Cascapedia, may well be considered a
feat of no mean merit

The Bonaventure is ar other beautiful stream. A score of years o: so
ago W. H. Thorne, of St. John, N. B., had a lease of it for $20 per a-mum.
He now pays $1,250 which with other expenses, make the total cost about
$2,000 each year. The salmon have an average weight of eighteen pounds.
A record of what is called a nice day's fishing is that of five and a half hours,

part in the morning and part in the afternoon, during which two men landed
fifteen salmon with an average weight of twenty-two pounds each. They could
have killed many more, had mere killing been the object, as it was not. As
many as sixty-three good sized fish have been counted lying lazily in a pool
on d n August day, when the water was low and warm, and when they not
only refused to rise but scarcely deigned to move when stirred up with the end
of a rod. They were not hungry. .

By the way, does anybody know whether a salmon ever does get hungry
in fresh water, or whether it merely rises to the fly "for the fun of the thing,"
just as an otter makes a slide where there is a sloping river bank covered with
snow ? It has been asserted by many that the royal fish finds its food in the
ocean and keeps a long fast from the time it ascends the rivers until it returns
to the sea. It is said that smelt have been found in the stomachs of some
caught in Nova Scotia rivers, but old New Brunswick fishermen declare that
they have never been able to find a trace of food in the hundreds they have
opened.

The Nouvelle and Escuminac rivers are famous for the size and quality
of their sea trout, which will average from four to six pounds each. They
are very abundant and easily caught. The bait which appears to have a par-
ticular fascination for them is a stuffed mouse. Some good fishermen have
been in the habit of skinning field mice and filling the skins with cork cut to
the proper shape. Mice are not hard to find in this vicinity, and the best
quality of corks are to be had, at times, by following in the path of the last
fishing party.

The sea trout is not fastidious, however. Unlike his near relative, Salma
Salar, he has an enormous appetite when in the rivers, and will gorge himself
whenever the opportunity offers. At certain times almost anything, even a
bit of red flannel, will serve as well as the most artistic fly. One trout caught
in the Metapediac had the remains of eleven mice in its stomach, and judging
from the avidity with which it took the bait, would have been able to dispose
of several more. An instance of the Oliver-Twistian appetite of this species
of fish is told by a St. John man who is not in the habit of carrying a cork-
screw, and is very reliable in other ways. He went up the Jacquet river, but
finding it full of logs and the water in bad condition, had no hope of securing
any fish. Finding an old inhabitant using smelt for bait, he resorted to the
same expedient, fastening the bait to the hook after the fashion of the natives.
He had great luck, and among his trophies was one big sea trout which had
swallowed so many smelt that its stomach could hold no more, for while the
head of the last one was down as far as the accumulated mass would allow it
the tail was stiking out of the trout's mouth. And yet it was " asking for
more" when it encountered the hook.

Gapeche, as the Indians termed Gaspe, means " land's end," and when
one is told that a few hours sail will take him to the Island of Anticosti, he
does not wonder at the name. Nature s architecture, as shown at Perce, the

pierced rock, will well repay his inspection, and if he have a taste for legends
aiid traditions, there is much that will reward him for his time and trouble.
The Indians, with their keen sense of the sublime, peopled this land with
spirits, good and evil, while still more weird stories come down to us from
the French regime. There are phantoms, they say, at Cap d'Espoir, which
justify the English corruption of the word to its antithesis of Cape Despair,
and "le genie de I'ile Perc6," the n.isty form of a female with arms outstretch-
ed as if in appeal, has been seen, so they tell, in the height of the raging
storm. Somewhere in this vicinity is Devil's Land, where it is narrated that
Roberval abandoned his niece. Marguerite, in 1542, in company with her
lover and an old Norman duenna. When the two latter died. Marguerite wa<i
the lone occupant of the dreary coast, continually contending with devils
which appeared to her in the forms of bears.

LA BAIE DES CHALEURS.

La Baie des Chaleurs is one of the most beautiful havens in America.
Ninety miles long, and from fifteen to twenty-five wide, there cannot be found
in its waters either rock or other hindrance to the safe passage of the largest
of ships. Jactjues Cartier gave the bay its present name to commemorate the
grateful warmth which he there felt after coming from the cold shores of New-
foundland. The Indians called it Ecketuan Nemaachi, or Sea of Fish, a name
far more appropriate, though less musical, than that which it now bears, for in
this genial climate, with its breezes from the sea, the weather is never hot, as
Americans understand heat. Cartier, however, may be pardoned for his
enthusiasm, for he had happened to touch at a particularly bad part of the
north coast of Newfoundland, where he " found not a cartload of good earth,"
and the mainland seemed to him like a vision of Paradise. " The countrey
is hotter than the countrey of Spaine," he recorded, " and the fairest that can
possibly be found, altogether smooth and level. There is no place, be it
never so little, but hath some trees (yea, albeit it be sandie), or else is full of
wilde come, that hath an ear like unto rie : the come is like oates, and small
peason as thicke as if they had been sowen and plowed, white and red goose-
beries, strawberies, blackberies, white and red roses, with many other floures
of sweet and pleasant smell. There be also many good meadows full of
grassy, and lakes wherein great plentie of salmon be. * * * Wg named
it the Bay of Heat."

It is but justice to Captain Cartier to state that the spelling is not his,
but that of the translator, as shown in the records of Hakluyt.

For many miles the Intercolonial Railway runs close to the shore, and
few fairer sights are to be seen than the broa; and beautiful expanse of water,
with its numerous little inlets on tb? New Brunswick side and the lofty and
imposing mountains rising grandly on the shore of Quebec. For miles, too,
the land is settled, and the green fields of well-tilled farms add another charm
to the scene. Of a summer day, with a gentle breeze rippling the smooth sur-

face of tlie water, the yachtsman feels that he has at last found the object of
his dream. There is no finer yachting bay on the North Atlantic coast.

The waters of the hay atx)und with net fish, and there is also a fine
<Jianc» for line fishing. Catching mackerel is a favorite recreation, the season
lasting from early in July until the last of September or later. The fishers go
out in small boats and use lines from ten to twenty feet in length. Fine-
chopped herring are thrown overboard to attract a " school," and soon one
has work enough to tend his lines and haul in the mackerel as fast as caught.
Where two lines are used it is lively sport, and a hundred an iiour is a com-
mon catch. The Gulf of St. Lawrence mackerel are large in size and are
usually in splendid condition. There is another kind of mackerel fishing —
that for the huge and oily horse-mackerel, or tunny, which is sometimes a
dozen teet long, and has been known to attain the weight of half a ton. The
specimens caught here are usually smaller than this and not hard to manage.
A heavy chain and hook are used, the water is •' baited," and when a big fish
takes the hook all there is to be done is to haul in the chain and keep his
head above water until he can be speared in a vital part. It is "as easy as
rolling off a log " — after you get in the way of it.

All the rivers which flow into the bay are good fishing streams. Sea
trout are found in the estuaries, and brook trout in the streams above. While
not so large as those found in the streams further north, they are of good size
and excellent flavor. The sea trout will average four and five pounds ; the
others run all 't'he^way from half a pound to four pounds.

The Charlo is a fine river for this kind of angling, and it is at its best
after the middle of August, though there is good fishing at any time from the
first of July to the middle of September. The best brook trout are found on
the South Branch, above the falls, the latter being three miles from the rail-
way, and the fishing is good from there for a distance of fifteen or twenty
miles back. A basketful, containing from 150 to 200, averaging about ten to
the pound, is not an unusual record of a day's fishing by one man. Sea trout
are caught anywhere in the three miles between Henderson's bridge and the
bay, and some famous catches have been made. On the day before the
writer's last visit there, in the season of 1890, one man landed eighty, which
made as much of a load as he wanted to carry. The lot weighed about forty
pounds, and it was necessary to carry some of them on a stick, as there was
no room for them in the basket. On another occasion the same man filled a
big tin bread pan with the results of a day's fishing. Good sport is also to be
had at the lakes, a few miles from the village.

Another well known stream, both for salmon and trout, is Jacquet River,
about fifteen miles below Charlo. The scenery on it is wild and striking, the
waters running between precipitous rocks, roaring in cascades and foaming
amid the boulders in the rapids. Guides are to be had at the village. If one
wishes to be unattended, he can go up by a good portage road, and will find
excellent fishing as he travels. He is sure to have it at Sunnyside, eight miles

from the station, or at the Pot Hole and Kettle Hole, four miles higher up.
The best plan is to fish all along between the two places, and one is sure to
have good luck. Another choice spot is at the first fails, twenty miles from
the station. Belledune Lake, six miles from the station, in another direction,
also has a good name for gamey trout, running from a half to two pounds in
weight.

The shooting along the bay and in the woods further inland is of the
same fine character as that mentioned in connection with the Restigoache —
ducks and geese near the tvater, and bear, caribou, moose, etc., in the forest.

A view of the Baie des Chaleurs, ^rom the New Brunswick shore, is at
all times pleasmg, but never does it impress the mind more than in the silence
of a calm, clear night in summer or autumn, when the moon gives a silvery
softness to everything on land and sea. At Charlo, for instance, where the oppo-
site shore is not so far away as to be obscure, the sight is one to inspire the
most prosaic soi 1. Not the least striking object in the scope of vision is Tra-
cadieguash Mountain, nearly 2,000 feet high, which, though ten miles distant
across the water, seems in the clear air of this climate as if it were but a league
away. ' '.:■'-■■. ? » »

The bay has its legends, and there are tales that the old people are loath
to tell, lest they be assailed with the ridicule of this scoffing and materialistic
age. There is yet one uncanny thing which relies not on legend for its fame,
but asserts itself by appearing from time to time to mortal eyes. It is the
phantom light of Le Baie des Chaleurs.

For the last hundred years, at least, or as far as the English residents
have had the story orally transmitted from their grandfathers, this light has
been seen in various parts of the bay from above Jacquet River as far down
as Caraquet, and its advent has been a ccepted as the presage of storm and
tempest. Nobody knows what it is, for it has never approached within less
than a mile or two from shore, and it has di sappeared from the view of the
few bold sceptics who have sought to reach it by the aid of boats. Sometimes
it has the semblance of a burning vessel, many miles away. More frequently
it looks like a ball of fire, apparently close at hand. Now and then it darts
like a meteor, and again glides along with a slow and dignified motion.
Occasionally it mounts rapidly in the air, sails away and descends on a distant
part of the bay. It is altogether mysterious and eccentric. One may watch
for months and fail to get a glimpse of it, but many reliable persons have seen it
time after time. It is usually followed by a storm, and the most singular part of
the story is that it has appeared above tne ice in the depth of winter. There
is, of course, a tradition, and it is to the effect that just before the light
appeared for the first time, a part of the crew of a wrecked vessel were mur-
dered by their companions, who appropriated all the plunder they could get.
The piratical sailors were subsequently lost during a storm, and immediately
after the event "be light began its vagrant existence. It is one of the strange
things that come in with the tide.

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BATHURST and the NEPISICUlT
The early settlement of what is now Bathurst dales hrck to the first half
of the seventeenth century, when the French nv-re nusteis of the land. As
early as 1645 ^^^ Jesuits had a station ac the mouth of the Nepisiguit, and
two years later they built a chapel near the site of the present town. The
first Englishman to make the place hii homo was Hugh Sutherland, who came
in 1789, and the Sutherland n?.me, as well as the manor, may be found there
to this day. The settlement was originally known as Indian Point, and the
harbor as St. Peter's Bay, bat when Governor Sir Howard Douglas designed
the plot of the town, he ^ave it the name of Bathurst. It is well laid out, and
was duly founded in 1S28, when Sir Howard visited it for that purpose, and
drank all the wine in the place. In those days there was no Intercolonial,
and no chance to procure supplies at short notice. The announcement of the
proposed offi( ial visit filled the public with dismay — there was but one bottle
of that v/hich raaketh glad the heart to be had foi love or mone)\ The
reception committee was equal to the occasion. When the banquet was
spread, the wine was placed before Sir Howard, while the natives drank the
toasts in water so ingeniously colored that His Excellency never suspected
the pious fraud. It is but simple justice to add that such a dearth of refresh-
ment has never been known in the recollection of the generation o" to-day.

The streets of Bathurst intersect each other at right angles ; they are
well graded, roomy and shaded by numerous trees. The soil is so sandy that
mud is never seen, and altogether the town is a very agreeable place for both
residents and visitors. There are numerous pleasant drii'es. One is to the
Tete-a-gauche, or Fairy River, the falls of which are about seven miles from
the town, and flow through a rocky gorge. Another drive is up the Nepisi-
guit to the Pabineau Falls, a distance of seven miles, taking in the Rough
Waters on the reiurn. At the latter place the river has a very lapid run for
about a mile, roaring amid huge granite bould rs, fragu.snts of the pre-
historic rock ever v/hich the sea flowed in the centuries of the unrecorded
ages. It is froni this place that the Nepisiguit takes its name, the Indian
word Nepiguit, or possibly Winkepiguit, meaning rough or troubled waters.
There are numerous other drives and walkb in the vicinity of the town, and
good bathing may be had at the Point, three miles from the station, where
there is a fine sand}* beach. Boating is had in the harbor and around the
bay. Mackerel and smelts are fished for with good success, with lines.
Some of the smelts measure a foot in length.

This is a great country for salmon and trout. The former are taken on
the Nepisiguit as far up as the Grand Falls One of the favorite places for
them is at the Rough Waters, but good pools are (bund all along the river.
In former years a man has gone from Bathurst to Grand Falls, fishing up,
and returned the next day, fishing down, and brought home thirty salmon,
weighing thirty-five pounds each and under. The Grand Falls are, of them-

selves, well worth seeing. They pour over the rocky height in two pitches,
with a total descent of 105 feet. The Pabineau Falls are rhore in the nature
of a series of rapids.

The Nepisiguit is about eighty-four miles long, to the head of Upper
Lake. At the Devil's Elbow, about half-way up the river, is a famous trout
pool, and there are other spots where the angler is well rewarded for his
trouble. At the head waters are five lakes, around which may be found, at
times, an abundance of duck and geese. From these lakes one can portage
to the Upsalquitch, and thence to the Restigouche, to the Tobique, and
down to the St. John, and to the Northwest Miramichi and thence to New-
castle. The country is wild enough in the interior, and abounds in lakes and
streams not laid down on any of the maps. These forests are peopled with
all kinds of game.

Trout fishing with bait commences about the loth of May, and large
quantities of sea trout, weighing from half a pound to six pounds, are taken
in the harbor. About the last of June, or first of July, the rivers begin to get
good and continues so until the middle of September. During the summer a
red, or brown, or small grey fly brings good success, and in the fall, when
the fish take bait readily, one who prefers a fly would do well to take a white
one with a good deal of tinsel. All the rivers and lakes have trout. A man
can cast a line arvwhere and something will rise to it.

A country which has hitherto been little known to the tourist is now
opened up by the Caraquet railway. This road runs from Gloucester, five
miles east of Bathurst, to Shippegan, a distance of sixty miles. Its course i-.
along the shore of the Baie des Chaleurs, and the journey is a most ittractive
one to the lover of nature. Along the route are the villages of Salmon Beach,
Clifton.- New Bandon, Grand Anse and Caraquet. The latter, au old and
quaint Acadian settlement, will be found worthy of the study of the stranger.
Good shooting and fishing are found all along the line.

A fine country for sport lies between Bathurst and Newcastle, The
Tabusintac River, about half-way, is one of the best sea trout rivers in
America. The fish stories told of it are perfectly astounding to a stranger.
The trout are said to be as large as mackerel and so plenty that the fishing cf
them is like being among a mackerel '* school." This may be taken with a
little allowance, but there is no doubt that the river is an unusually fine one
for sport. A horse and canoe are useful on the journey. The Trcicadie
River has also a splendid reputation. There are several other trout streams
in the district, but this one is most worthy of mention.

Caribou ! Yes, the caribou plains extend from the Northwest Miramichi
to the sea coast ; and as to bears, the Bartibogue regions points proudly to
the record of hounties paid on the bruins slain in its midst. Partridges are
plenty in everj^ part of this country, and fly across the path of t'ue traveller on
every highway.

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MIRAMICHI'

A Canadian writer, John Talon-Lesperance, has said that when the first
Bishop of Quebec, Francis Laval, stood upon the steps of the high altar of
the cathedral of the Ancient Capital " he could wave his crosier over a whole
continent, from the Gulf of St. Lawrence to the Gulf of Mexico, and from the
Red River of the north to the waters of Chesapeake Bay." The church had
brought the symbol of the cross to lift it up in the wilderness and waste
places, yet before the first evangelist had set foot on the western world the
cross was known and reverenced by the savages of the Miramichi — the River
of the Cross.

From a translation by S. W. Kain, of an extract from a rare book, by
Monseigneur Jean St. Valier, second bishop of Quebec, published in Paris in
1688, it is learned that the Indians of this river knew the symbol of Chris-
tianity without comprehending its meaning. They had a tradition that in a
time of famine, long before their day, a vision of the cross, by a reliance on
which their deliverance would be wrought in all times of troul)le, had been
seen by one of their old men. He put his trust in it, and his faith became
that of the whole tribe. Every canoe carried a wooden cross in the bow, and
a similar sacred symbol was worn by the people and buried with them in their
graves. Thu? it was that the Miramichi was called the River of the Cross,
whatever tl:e Indian words were, and that the name it bears to-day not only
does not mean " happy retreat," as most people think, but it is no more an
Indian word than it is Latin or Greek. Neither the red man nor the students
of their dialects recognize it. In the first edition of this guide, in 1882, the
writer was of opinion that the name was a corruption of Miggumaghee — Mic-
mac Land — a word v hich he had found in the writings of Rev. Eugene Vetro-
mile, but since then the investigations of Prof. W. F. Ganong show thnt the
original word was something that sounded like " Micheomal," though no
really satisfactory conclusion can be reached.

There was a time when one man, Denis de 1 1 onsac, owned the whole
of this pai*; of the country, and yet felt himself less important than does many a
bank clerk to- day. Land in those times was of value to a proprietor only
when it was already cleared and convenient to the shore. If Denis had been
obliged to pay taxes on the 2,oco square miles granted to him in 1690, he
would have had to make an assignment for the benefit of his creditors.

Since thjn the value of real estate ha' increased, and men have made for-
tunes on bits of lar.d that Denis would have given to have his flask filled when
he ran out of supplies on a fishing trip. In these later days the name and
the fame of Miramichi have extended o/ev the civilized world. Ships of every
nation carry its lumber ar.d its fish to distant lands, and before the days when
Chicago, Boston, and St. John, astonished nianknd with their pyrotechnics,
it stood pre-eminent as the scene of the biggest ^ire on record.

Theltraveller is at Miramichi when he stops at Newcastle, a town fair to

look upon as it slopes gently to the waters of the great river, which here
broadens into an arm of the sea as it meets the waters of the Gulf of St. Law-
rence. Saw mills in every direction tell of the extent of the lumber industry,
and at the proper season will be seen substantial indications of the wholesale
export of fish. Trade of other kinds is brisk, and there is a general air of
prosperity. Six miles below, by the river, is Chatham, a compact and busy
place, which may be reached by an enjoyable trip on the steamer which plys
between the two towns. It is the seat of the Roman Catholic Bishop of
Chatham Diocese, and has numerous fine buildings, both public and private.
The Chatham Branch Railway, nine miles in length, connects the town with
the Intercolonial, and excursions are made by steamer from Chatham to Bay
du Vin, a distance of 25 miles, the round trip costing the moderate sum of fifty
cents.

Th(.' country in the vicinity of Chatham and Newcastle is well settled,
and there are many opportunities for drives in which the stranger will find
much to admire. Miramichi is a pretty place and has always been praised by
its visitors. Jacques Cartier came all the way from France to have a look at
it in 1535, and gave it a first-class notice in the guide book to Canada which
he subsequently wrote. Every other guide-book man has done the same, and
every one has told the truth. It is a stirring, wide-awake country, and its
people have a right to feel proud of it and to praise it.

Three and a half centuries have passed since Jacques Cartier f tepped on
the continent of America, at the mouth of this river. He had, indeed, stop-
ped at Newfoundland, but happened to find a very bad part of its coast. " I
believe it to be the land that God allotted to Cain," he wrote, and so he sailed
westward until he reached what is now known as Point Escumniac. He was
delighted with the forests, soil and climate, but had he sailed up the river he
would have found even more to excite his admiration and evoke his praise.
The county of Northumberland, with an area of 2,756,000 acres, is not only
the largest in New Brunswick, but it is one of the fairest and most flourishing.
Its people are among the most enterprising and hospitable in the Lower Pro-
vinces and they are a busy people as well, for as many as eighty square-rigged
vessels have been seen in the port of Chatham at one time, loading for foreign
markets. The Canada Eastern Railway connects Chatham and New-
castle with Fredericton, the capital of the province. Its route is through the
rich and beautiful Miramichi Valley, a distance of no miles, and the road
must materially advance the interests of this already flourishing county.
Another railway is a branch of the Intercolonial which runs to Indian Brook,
about fourteen miles from Newcastle^ __ 1 _. • x^ - . ,

The s[)ort3men in search of wild fowl will find one of the best localities
in the country at Point Escuminac, which rivals even the famed Point Miscou
as a resort of ducks and geese. Then, too, those who are not sportsmen may
find much to interest them at various points along the river. If they ha\ e
read Canadian history, they will remember that the ship which carried General

Wolfe's body from Qu ebec to England put in at Miramichi for fresh water.
Six men were sent ashore at Henderson's Cove, where Gilmour & Rankin's
mill was after>vards built, and were murdered by Indians. The captain, sup-
posing thav the French had committed the deed, proceeded to silence the
battery at French Fort Cove, then went to Canadian Point, destroyed it and
killed most of the people, and on his way down river stopped long enough to
burn the church at what has ever since been known as Burnt Church Point.
He appears to have been a man of considerable energy, but it was an awful
mistake and exceedingly rough on the Acadians.

These unfortunate people must have thought that their lines were cast in
very unpleasant places in those times. They had been struggling against
famine and pestilence, which had carried off more than eight hundred of them
durmg the previous winter, and if the traveller goes up the river to Beaubair's
Point, he will find where most of them were buried. They were still suffering
from hunger and disease when fire and the sword came among them.

The Miramichi River is seven miles wide at the mouth and 225 miles
long, its head-waters lying in Carleton and Victoria counties, within easy
reach of the St. John and its tributaries. The Northwest Branch begins near
the head-waters of the Nepisiguit, and the two branches unite at Beaubair
Island, a short distance above Newcastle. Both are fed by numerous large
streams, and the river drains over 6,000 square miles of country, an area
equal to about a quarter of the province. It is navigable for large vessels for
forty-six miles from the mouth, and for canoes for many hundred miles. The
vast country which it drains has never been thoroughly explored ; even the
ubiquitous lumberman has but a partial knowledge of it ; and it will readily be
seen that its resources for the hunter are practically without limit. Moose,
caribou, deer, bears, wolves, foxes, racoons, loop-creviers, and all the smaller
animals range these forests, while fish leap from every lake and etream. By
this great natural highway, and its connections, one may reach every section
of the province where a hunter wishes to go. No pent-up shooting park con-
tracts his powers ; it is tor himself to name the extent of his journey.

One whose time is limited does not need to wander far from Chatham or
Newcastle in order to find abundant sport. As for fishing, he is in a fish
country, from which the annual exports of salmon, smelts, bass, etc., are
something incredible. Rod fishing may be had in every direction, and some
of the lakes have never been fully explored. Whenever there is a high bank
on one side and a low beach on the other, will be found a pool to which
salmon are sure to resort. The Ox Bow, on the Little South West, a mile
above Red Bank, is a favorite spot for fishers. The main North West is a
particular good river ; one of the noted places on it is the Big Hole, five or
six miles above the Head of the Tide. There salmon or grilse can be caught
at almost all times, but are particularly abundant immediately after a rain.
The Big and Little Sevogle^i, which empty into the river just named, have a
good reputation. The former is a very pretty river with a fine water-fall, in

the basin beneath which is excellent fishing at certain seasons. Immediately
below is the Square Forks, where the north and south branches n^eet, a place
with scenery of rather striking nature. The Miramichi salmon is not large,
ten pounds being a fair average, but its flavor is very fine. Grilse average
about five or six pounds. They are very gamey, and afford splendid sport.
The run of salmon in these rivers in 1890 was greater than for many previous
years. An instance of this is the fact that ninety-five salmon and 177 grilse
were killed in the waters of Hon. Michael Adams, on the North West.

Trout fishing is had in all the rivers, brooks and lakes. The Tabusintac
has already been mentioned. The sea trout in it and in theTracadie are very
large. On both rivers there is good fishing for many miles from the mouth.
Early in June, when the water of the Miramichi is low, fine sea trout are
caught as far up as Indiantown. As for flies, the " Jock Scoti" is considered
good for all purposes. The " Silver Doctor" is another favorite, while for
spring fishing a red body with white wings is found to have " a very taking
way."

During the summer, mackerel and codfish are taken with the hook in the
Miramichi Bay, and in the summer there is also good bass fishing inside the
Horse Shoe Bar, at the mouth of the river. The winter fishing for bass, with
bow nets, is followed on the North West River, and fish as large as wenty
pounds are taken. The winter smelt fishing has also grown to a great in-
dustry. Smelt take the hook as well, and are fished for in the fall and winter
with jiggers, four hooks being used.

Partridge are very plenty. Plover and snipe are also found in the fall,
and a few, but not many, English woodcock. The great fall and spring sport
is the shooting of geese, brant and ducks of all kinds. They are found at
Tabusiniac Gully, mouth of Tabusintac, Neguac Gully, Black Lands Pomt
and Grand Anse, on the nonh of the river, and Baie du Vin, Fox Island,
Point Escuminac, and other places on the south side.

THE GREAT FIRE.

*' All it required to complete a picture of the General Judgment was the
blast of a trumpet, the voice of the archangel and the resurrection of the
dead." In these words the local historian, Cooney, gives his impression of
the fire which swept over Miramichi, in the year 1825. In the three score
and odd years which have passed since then, nearly all the traces of that
great calamity have been effaced, and probably all of those who were of an
age to realize the terrible grandeur of the scene have passed away beyond
recall.

It was the good fortune of the writer, several years ago, to hear from the
lips of some of the aged survivors the story of that dreadful day, and to write
the facts as they told them. The pictures which their minds retained were
thrilling in the extreme ; the reality must have been appalling in its horrors.

They remembered the Miramichi of their youth as a country rich in

resources, with a large and rapidly increasing timber trade. Newcastle had
then a population of about i,ooo while probably a third of that number were
settled at Douglastown, a few miles below. The vast region through which
the river and its tributaries flowed contained a wealth of magnificent timber,
of sueh a character that it would be difficult for one to calculate its value if
it were available at the present day. An idea of its size has been gained from
the remains of the immense stumps of charred pine unearthed from time to
time during the building of the railway, the like of which cannot be found in
what is even now a wonderful lumber country.

The summer of 1825 was a prosperous one, and hundreds of men in the
woods and settlements looked for\vard to still more extended operations in the
winter. The autumn came with even more than the usual splendor which
attends it in this northern land. The sky was unclouded for weeks. Not a
drop of rain fell over the vast range of country, and the forest cracked with
unwonted dryness, while the grass withered and the flower faded. The little
rivulets ceased to flow, and the great river shrank far from its accustomed
bounds. The ground was parched as in midsummer drouth, while the air was
close and a sultry heat oppressed the senses. October came, and as the days
of its first week passed the air grew more stifling and the heat more oppres-
sive, though the sun was less bright than it had been and shone like a disc
of copper through a faint smoke which seemed to come from a distant region.
Some said that the woods were afire far to the north and west, but for this the
dwellers on the Miramichi cared little. The axe rang in the depths of the
forest, the harvest was gathered in the settlements, and trade flourished in
the growing town of Newcastle.

On Friday, the 7 th of October, the townspeople observed a dark cloud
above the woods on the North-West Branch, but no apprehension was felt.
So little thought was given to any danger by fire that some believed that which
was smoke lo be a rain-cloud, and they rejoiced at the prospect of the refresh-
ing showers by which it would be followed. The twilight of that day was fol-
lowed by a darkness so deep that those who were abroad in the town had to
grope their way along the roads. A colored man, named Preston, was preach-
ing in one of the houses, and a number of people had gathered to hear him.
During the service they were disturbed by the loud beating of a drum outside.
They supposed it was in derision of the preacher, and gave it little thought.
That drum was beaten by William Wright, who had come from the lumber
woods, and knowing that a great fire was sweeping over the country, thus
sought to warn the people of its approach. Few heeded the warning.

The sermon was finished, and those who had comprised the congregation
started for their homes. The night was still very dark, for as yet no light
from the fire was visible in Newcastle, save the outline of a lurid and seemingly
distant zone, wliich gave the peoj^le no intimation of present danger. The
air was full of smoke, the v/ind had increased to a gale, and borne upon it was
a hoarse roar, like distant thunder. Suddenly a bright light pierced the dark-

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ness, and a moment later a sheet of flame flaslied from the woods at the top
of the hill. Near this place was the new Presbyterian church, the corner
stone of which had been laid by Sir Howard Douglas, a few months before.
It was the first building to take fire, and it vanished almost in an instant.
The wind had increased to a hurricane, and the burning brands were carried
over the town, spreading destruction in their path. There was no longer
darkness, and in the awful light the terrified people were seen hurrying for
their lives and knowing not where to look for safety. It was not strange that
many of them believed the Day of Judgment was at hand, and, panic-stricken,
ceased their struggles, to implore merey from Heaven.

On what is now the public square stood the court house and jail. The
court had that day finished its assize, and several prisoners had been sen-
tenced. Two or three had been condenmed to death, and one of them was a
negro woman who had murdered her child. When the fire burst upon New-
castle, the prisoners saw their danger, and a fearful shout, a wail of supplica-
cation mingled with the agony of despair, came from the windows of the
prison. Some men who were on the street paused long enough in their flight
to burst open the outer door, but by the time the prisoners were at liberty a
sea of flame and smoke surrounded them. The woman ran out, but scarcely
had she cleared the portal when she fell to the earth and yielded up her life
to the flames by which she was surrounded. The scene at this awful hour
defies description. Half naked men and women, shouting and shrieking,
were fleeing for their lives, some seeking only their own safety and others
striving to rescue those who were helpless by reason of childhood, age or
infirmity. The greater portion fled to a marsh west of the town, and among
them were several suffering from typhoid fever and small-pox. Few of the
fugitives attempted to save any of their worldly goods. Even the money in
the tills was left untouched, and one man fled from his house without stopping
to take one of a thousand silver dollars which it had required years for him to
accumulate. One man has told the writer that he would have left a peck of
doubloons undisturbed, so certain was he that the end of the world had come.
Others, less excited, threw their money and valuables in the river, and then
sought safety for themselves. Some tried to escape by crossing the Mira-
michi on sticks of timber, but as the river was like an angry sci, many met a
death in its waters. An entire family, consisting of husband, wife and several
children, were among those drowned. In another instance, at Bartibogue,
one girl was the survivor of a family of nine who perished in the flames.

The fury of the fire made its duration brief after its further progress was
checked by the broad river. In three hours Newcastle and the settlements
in the vicinity were in ashes. Only one or two buildings in the town escaped,
and one of these, the Leyden House, is still standing. At Douglastown the
only house spared was that in which lay a corpse awaiting burial.

Those who were in the woods have told how they owed their escape to
their taking refuge in the river and plunging their heads beneath the water

from minute to minute during that terrible night. All around them, in some
instances, were alike the fiercest and most timid beasts of the forest, harmless
and trembling in their terror of a common danger. Even the water was
Jjut-a partial refuge, for so hot was it in the shallow places that myriads of
fish were literally cooked to death.

Briefiy stated, the Miramichi fire was one of the greatest of which the
world has any record. It swept over the country, from the head waters of
the river, in a sheet of Hanie one hundred miles broad, and burned all before
it in an area of more than four thousand square miles, four hundred miles of
which was settled country. It will never be known how many lives were
lost. Cooney says there were one hundred and sixty, but as many who per-
ished in the woods were strangers without kindred to trace their disappear-
ance, the estimate is undoubtedly a low one. Whole families were destroyed,
and hundreds made homeless and destitute, though abundant relief came to
them later, not only from the British possessions but the United States.
Apart from the incalculable loss in the forests, the fire destroyed about a rail-
lion dollars' worth of property, including six hundred houses and nearly nine
hundred head of cattle. The light of it was seen as far as the Magdalen
Islands, and its cinders were scattered over the streets of Halifax. In the
fury of the hurricane huge tree tops and burning roofs were whirled high in
the air, and as they descended were believed by those at a distance to be
balls of fire rained from the heavens in token of the Almighty's wrath. No
element of horror which the mind could conceive was wanting in that fearful
scene.

MIRAMICHI TO MONCTON-

After leaving Newcastle, the Miramichi Railway bridges are crossed.
Every one admires their beauty, and no one is surprised when told that the
cost of this part of the road was in the neighborhood of a million dollars.
This represents a vast amount of work, much of which is hidden under the
water. Each of the bridges is 1,200 feet in length, and they are models of
strength combined with beauty.

From Miramichi until Moncton is reached the railway passes through a
country which has no particular attractions for the eye. It is so far from the
shore that none of the flourishing settlements are seen, and the traveller is apt
to gain a poor idea of the country. There is, however, a fine farming and
fishing district all along the coast, and some large rivers, of which only the
head waters are crossed. The Richibucto is one of these, and the town of
the same name, reached by a branch railway from Kent J unction, has much
to recommend it as a summer resort. The bathing and boating privileges are
unlimited, and the scenery is never marred by the presence of fog. The village
of St. Louis, seven miles distant, is noted as a resort for the sick and infirm,
who seek the healing waters of a grotto in tNe nature of the famed one of Our
Lady of Lourdes, and return to their hom.es with their afflictions banished.

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The vicinity of Richibucto affords many other walks and drives of interest,
while all kinds of game invite the sportsman, and fine fishing is found on the
river and in the harbor.

MONGTON.

Moncton is a city, and a live om. It has 10,000 inhabitants at the time
of writing, and possibly by the time the public read this there will be a
thousand or two more. When the Intercolonial first issued a guide book,
fifteen years ago, the man who wrote it thought he would tickle the vanity of
the residents by putting the figures at 5,000, even if he had to include Lutz
Mountain, Lev/isville and Fox Creek in order to satisfy his conscience. The
people were amazingly pleased, and whispered to each other that it was
" just as well to say so, anyhow ; it will give strangers a better impression."
Three or four years ago the population puffer* talked about 7,000, but had to
admit that IVloncton was only a town. Now, he impresses upon strangers
the fact that it is a city, and that 9,999 is a hundred or two less than the
number of the mhabitants thereof

Moncton is a railway centre, the heart of the Intercolonial, from which
the busy operations of the system are conirolled. There is a railway odor in
the air, bells ring and whistles blow at all hours of the day and night, and
railway men are found at every turn. The general oflSces and workshops
employ a small army, and as this army is paid in cash it is very popular with
all classes of society. All important events are calculated from their
relation to na.y day, and the night following it is to Moncton what the Satur-
day night before Christmas is to less favored places. It is the storekeeper's
harvest — everybody's harvest — and it comes no less than twelve t'mes a year.

There was a time when Moncton was not much of a place, and had not
even a name worth mentioning. It was called The Bend, not from any
characteristic of its own, but because the river course hereabouts was of a
design similar to a dog's hind leg. In those days the railway was scarcely
more than a vision and a dream, but in the last decade or so a mighty
change has been wrought. The city is still growing, and its growth is both
a rapid and healthy one.

The railway has done a good deal for Moncton, and Moncton has done
a good deal for itself. The people are enterprising as well as enthusiastic,
and have not only a courage in the present but an unbounded faith for the
future. They have a sugar refinery, a cotton factory and many other indus-
tries of importance. They have erected fine public and private structures ;
and while they have outstripped the citizens of larger places in availing them-
selves of applied electricity, they are now coming to the front with an electric
railway. The old-time shops have given place to " real stores, with plate
glass fronts and the electric light," while in the less busy streets are residences
of lasteful design, usually in the midst of admirably arranged grounds. It is
not strange that the Monctonian is loyal to his city, and that whether he

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departs from it with the common carpet-bag of commerce or the gay and
gaudy yellow valise of the great man, he is always glad to get back again.

It is but just that this tribute should be paid to a promising city and its
people, because many strangers merely stop off between trains and have no
opportunity to judge for themselves. If there is smoke in the air, at times, it
is because y.rtizans are adding to the wealth of the country ; and if the streets
are a trifle muddy, in the wet weather, it is because there is a constant tide of
traffic on them. It is easy enough to have clean streets in a town where a
hearse or a milk waggon is the most conspicuous vehicle, but Moncton is not
that kind of a place.

The Petitcodiac is one of the kind of rivers to which the traveller must get
accustomed ere he proceeds much further on his journey. At high water it is
quite a majestic stream, though a trifle discolored ; at low tide the river dis-
appears, with the exception of some water in the channel, and acres of smooth,
slippery mud appear. The mud is not a nice thing to get into, but as a fer-
tilizer it is a great success — the manure with which Nature enriches the vast
areas of marsh which are found at the head of the Bay of Fundy. llie river,
at Moncton, is a good place to see the tide come with a " bore." Thousands
of well-read people, trusting to books written by men of imaginative minds, have
lived and died in the belief that the tide at the head of the bay rose 1 20 feet.
Old editions of the Rncyclopadia Britannica used to say so, and one geo-
grapher is responsible for the statement that this extraordinary flood was seen
thirty miles away approaching in one vast wave with a prodigious noise. The
truth is that the Bay of Fundy tides rise as high as sixty feet and upwards,
and with great rapidity, but take plenty of time to fall. When they enter
certain long and narrow estuaries a bore of six feet, and in some cases even
higher, is foraied. This is, however, worth seeing, and worth keeping out of
the way of, if you are out in a boat and don't know how to manage it ; but a
traveller who has set his heart on a bore of sixty or a hundred feet is apt to
be disappointed.

A watering-place convenient to Moncton, and in favor with its people, is
Buctojche, reached by a run of thirty-two miles over the Buctouche & Monc-
ton Railway.

Seven miles beyond Moncton, on the Intercolonial, is Painsec Junction,
from which a branch runs to Shediac and Point du Chene. Painsec is tRe
French for dry bread, though nobody appears to know why the title was
bestowed on this part of the country. It need not frighten the traveller, for
he is on his way to a land famous for oysters and other good cheer, to say
nothing of many other things that will contribute to his pleasure.

SHEDIAC

Every one has heard of the Shediac oysters, those marvels of flavor on
the half shell or in an A i stew. This is the place where they live when they
are at home, and where one may admire their open countenances as they

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come fresh from their native element. Shediac has more than oysters to
recommend it, however, for it is one of the most pleasant summer resorts on
this shore. As yet, strangers have hardly found it out, but its beauties are
well known to the people of New Brunswick, many of whom pay it a visit
during the summer months. All who go to Shediac enjoy themselves. The
village of itself is a pretty place, and the locality is a charming one. The
harbor is a beautiful sheet of water, about a mile and u. half wide, and from
three to five miles long. All around it is a smooth and gently sloping sand
beach, affording every facility for bathing in the pleasantly warm water. Bath
houses have been erected for those who desire them, and though the water is
the salt sea, from the Gulf, there are no under-tows to play tricks upon the
weak and unwary. There are neither squalls nor rough seas in the harbor,
and it is a splendid cruising ground for pleasure boats. Shediac Island, a
short distance away, is much in favor for pleasure parties. A visit to the Cape,
one of the prettiest places in the vicinity, will wei) repay one for the trouble.

Point du Chene, two miles below Shediac, is the deep water terminus and
port of shipment. Here, in the summer, may be seen large number of scjuare-
rigged vessels, loading with lumber for places across the ocean. Daily com-
munication is had with Prince Edward Island by steamer. AH that has been
said of Shediac applies with equal force to the Point, and the latter has for
the tourist additional advantages. The view from the shore on a c£'.lm sum-
mer day is one which cannot fail to charm. Add to this the fresh, invigorating
breezes from the water, excellent bathing and boating, with the advantage of a
good hotel, and Point du Chene is one of the places to be sought as a quiet,
healthful and restful retreat.

A great deal of quiet enjoyment may be had from the trout fishing in this
vicinity. The streams most sought by the angler are the Shediac and the
S^adouc. On the former, good places are found at Bateman's mill, four miles
from the village, and at Gilbert's mill, two miles beyond. Between these
places and Point du Chene sea trout may be caught, weighing thvee and four
pounds each. Fishing begins in the latter part of May, and the fly preferred
is the red hackle. Down the shore, good fishing is had at Dickey's mill,
three miles, and at Aboushagan, eight miles distant. Good bass and mackerel
fishing is had in the harbor and off the island, in the fall. In September and
October, three and four pound bass can be caught from the wharf at Point
du Chene.

Oysters, of course, are abundant, while sea-clams, mud-clams and lobsters
are found everywhere along the shore.

Plover shooting begins on the ist of September, and good success
is had on the shore from Point du Chene to Barachois, a range of about four
miles. This shore is also a good place for geese, brant, and ducks, in the
spring and fall, and another good shooting ground is at Grandigue, about
eight miles distant by road.

Board is very reasonable and excellent accommodation is provided. At

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the leading hotel, which runs a free carriage to and from the steamers at
Point du Chene, the rate is only $1.50 a day, and board may be secured for
$5 and $6 a week. The Gulf j'ort steamers call at Point du Chene, and a
large traffic with Prince Edward Island is carried on during the summer, by
daily steamers to and from Summerside. With fine climate, fresh sea breezes,
sunny days and cool nights, the place is remarkably healthy ; more than that
it is exceedingly pleasant.

The traveller can go from Shediac direct to Prince Edward Island, he
can return to Moncton and thence to St. John, or he can return to Painsec
and continue his journey south. Taking the latter course, he enters upon a
fine country, which becomes more settled and better cultivated as he pro-
ceeds. Memramcook is a settlement largely composed of Acadian French.
St. Joseph's College and other Roman Catholic educational institutions are
the chief features of intereiit and are very pleasantly located on the gentle
slope of the fertile valley. A few miles beyond is Dorchester, prettily situ-
ated on gently rising ground. The Maritime Penitentiary, for long term
prisoners from the Lower Provinces, is a conspicuous object on the hill side.
Dorchester is the shire town of Westmoreland, and a stranger who happened
there at court time might infer that the staple industry was litigation. The
village has given more bright lawyers to the profession than any place of its
size in the country, to say nothing of a governor for the province and poli-
ticians without number. It has other industries, however, and some of the
finest of New Brunswick ships have been built around its shores.

Eleven miles beyond Dorchester is Sackville, a place which would be
quite an imposing looking town if the houses were close together. As it is,
the principal street is about seven miles long, and most of the people have
their residences on it. Farming is extensively carried on and some of the
finest cattle in Eastern America are raised here, to be exported to England, at
times, to compete successfully with the beef of the British markets. Here
and there, on the way from Moncton, the traveller has caught glimpses of
broad stretches of verdant marsh. When he leaves Sackville he begins to
realize the extent of them in this part of the world. The thousands of acres
which he sees are but a small portion of the ever fertile areas which are
found around the head of the Bay of Fundy, and which have been a rich
heritage to its people from the earliest days. In the dark continent the thrifty
suitor may value his prospective father-in-law by the amount of ivory he pos-
sesses ; among the Four Hundred of New York love's ardor may have a rela-
tion to stock and bonds ; but the lover who walks from Westcock to Four
Corners to proffer his affection finds a sweet compensation for his toil in the
odors which exhale at e%'e from the marshes of his dear one's awful dad.

Mount Allison college and academies for both sexes make Sackville the
educational centre for the Methodist denomination. They have furnished
Canada with some of its most prominent men in the professions and in the
legislative halls.

The New Brunswick and Prince Edward Island Railway runs from Sack-
ville to Cape Tormentinc, and a steamer between the latter place and Cape
Traverse gives ready communication with the " Garden of the Gulf," in the
summer season. Before a suitable steamer ran from Pictou to the Island the
only method of conveying mails and pasHengers in winter was by means of
ice boats between the capes, a journey always attended with excitement and
often with danger. The distance across is nine miles, and between the two
shores, in cold weather, lies a formidable barrier of broken and irregular ice
fields, through which no vessel can pass, and over which no land vehicle can
travel. Drift ice from the Gulf of St. Lawrence adds to the accumulation,
and piles it up in hummocks like those encountered in the Arctic regions.
In some places there will be open water, while again there will be stretches of
lolly, or a . lixture of broken ice and water through which long and hard toil
is required to force a passage. The ice boat which can overcome all these
obstacles is not the craft which bears that name on the Hudson and the great
lakes. That is a triangular platform on runners, fitted with a sail and speed-
ing over the smooth frozen surface at a rate no other craft can equal. The
ice boat of the Strait is a strong, but not heavy, row boat, whir.h can fioat on
the water or be dragged over all kinds of ice, as occasion demands. Straps
are attached to its sides, and each man, passengers included, has one of these
slung over his shoulder when the craft is dragged. In this way he not only
assists in the work, but is saved from going beneath the surface should he
step in a treacherous place. Ladies and invalids, as well as dudes who are
willing to pay double passage money, are allowed to remain in the boat and
become part of the burden. The crossing will not be made if the weather
and other conditions are not favorable, and many a traveller can recall his
day after day of waiting, while high carnival was held in Tom Allen's hos-
pitable ranch. With the precautions now taken, there are no fatalities, but
there have been in the past. Years ago a party started to cross, but when
well on their way a blinding snowstorm swept over the Strait, and no mortal
eye ever again saw trace of the boat or its occupants. It is supposed they
were carried out to sea, and there miserably perished. Now-a-days the travel-
ler is safe, and if he be properly clothed, is reasonably comfortable. The ex-
ercise keeps the blood in circulation and prevents any bad effects. Some-
times the traveller is up to the waist in the cool and refreshing water, but
such mishaps are laughed at when the passage is safely accomplished.

Local sportsmen find fair goose and duck shooting around the lakes in
the vicinity of Sackville, while they tell of some good bags of snipe and
plover in the proper season.

Leaving Sackville, the road takes its way over the Tiniamarre Marsh for
several miles, close to the head of the Bay of Fundy. Au Lac station was
the point at which the Baie Verte Canal would have commenced, had it been
built. The isthmus at this point is a little over eleven miles wide from water
to water, and it is not twenty miles from one anchorage to the other. The

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country is well settled between the two shores, and its people include pro-
gressive farmers who have learned to regard agriculture as a science.

A word of caution as to proper names may not be out of place here.
If the stranger wants to talk to the people about the marsh, he will save him-
self from correction by calling it *' Tantramar," though there is no reason
why the French "Tintamarre " should ever have been so corrupted. In the
same way Buet's Bridge — "Pont de Buet " — is known only as Point de
Bute, while Jolic(i.'ur will be Jolicure to the end of time. The early English
settlers here had little patience with the French or their nomenclature, and
the French themselves have long since departed from the land.

They did not go without a struggle. Just beyond Au Lac is the ruined
monument of the last dayK of their occupancy. It is all that is left of the
solidly built Fort Beausejour, erected nearly a century and a half ago, when
the thriving settlement of Beaubassin had 2,500 communicants and was the
largest in Acndia. One may still stand within its solid casemates, or trace
the bastions which have thus far resisted the hand of time, and he may ponder
on the last struggle of the French regime to hold its own against the invading
forces of England. The importance of the isthmus between the provinces
was recognized only when it was out of the power of its holders to retain it.
This fort had accommodation for eight hundred men, and had what was, in
those days, an elaborate system of outworks. It was taken by Col. Moncton,
in June, 1775, and with its fall the struggle in Acadia was at an end. The
English gave the place the name of Fort Cuml)erland. As the years rolled
by it was suffered to fall into decay, and now only the ruins remain.

Within a cannon siiot to the south is the site of Fort Lawrence, which
was built and occupied by the English. It is only the site, for the ground is
now a well tilled farm, and not a trace of the original works is left to remind
one of its story.

Near Fort Lawrence may be seen the western end of that wonderful
piece of work, the Chignecto Ship Railway, the first of its kind in the world.
When completed, vessels of any size can be carried overland between the Bay cf
Fundy and the Gulf of St. Lawrence, a distance of seventeen miles. Received
in docks at either end of the line, they will be raised by hydraulic lifts, con-
veyed on trucks over the perfectly straight railway and deposited in the waters
of the other side of the isthmus. In this way an immense saving of distance
will be made between the Gulf ports and those of New England and the Bay
of Fundy.

AMHERST.

Within a quarter of a century the population of Amherst has more than
doubled, and the town is now one of the most thriving in the Maritime Prov-
inces. The stranger who visits it at intervals of a year or two, sees new and
substantial evidences of growth and prosperity every time he comes and
looks around. New and substantial buildings are to be seen each year, and

the already varied and important industries are continually receiving addi-
tions to their list. Everyone who visits the town gets the impression that it
is a live place. The business portion is compactly built, and there is a stir
upon the streets at all hours of the day and evening. The people move around
as if they had something to do and meant to do it, and the stores are in line
with the surroundings. The locatic^, too, is a pleasant one, on gently rising
ground, and the centre of the town is sufficiently near the railway to save
troiible and yet not near enough to have discomfort from the noise and bustle
of the station yard. The private residences show good taste as well as a
regard for comfort, and every street has its flower gardens, which show care-
ful attention on the part of their possessors. The adjacent country abounds
witli flourishing settlements which make Amherst a centre, and ey.n the
villages across the border favor it largely with their custom.

Numerous pleasant drives may be had in the vicinity. One of these is
to Fort Cumberland, from which there is a splendid view of the Bay and the
surrounding country for many miles. A trip to Baie Verte and vicinity will

also prove of interest, and, indeed, as the country is well settled, and good
farms meet the eye in every part, it is hard for one to take a drive which will

not afford pleasure.

The shore to the eastward abounds with duck and geese at the proper
seasons. This part of the country is well settled and has some fme
harbors. That of Pugw^ash is an exceptionally good one, safe, commodious,
and deep enough for vessels of any size. Moose are found among the moun
tains to the south of Amherst, and in other places not far away. The east
branch of RivK,r Philip, 27 miles distant, and Shulee, 40 miles, are both moose
grounds.

The best fishing to be had is at Fountain Lake, Westchester, which is
reached by going to Greenville station, from which a drive of five miles brings
'^ne to Purdy's hotel. Here there is capital accommodation. The lake is
about six miles beyond this, a pretty sheet of water, which contains very
gamey salmon trout.

WHERE THE WATERS BRINC WEALTH-
In the year 1612, when Champlain was, as he believed, laying the foun-
dations of an empire at Quebec, a little ship sailed from Port Royal to spy
out the land at the ht-ad of La Baie Francoise. It was commanded by M. de
Briencourt, a young nobleman, and Pere Biard, a missionary priest. When
they reached the shores of Chiquiniktouk — known to us as Chignecto — tht.y
were astonished and delighted at the vast areas of natural salt marshes, ex-
tending as far as the eye could reach. They named the place Beaubassin,
because of its beauty.

The marshes at the head of the Bay of Fundy have no equal on the
continent. Before the traveller crosses the boundary river Missiguash, he has
passed by 100,000 acres of them in the last forty miles of his journey through

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New Brunswick, and, when he reaches Amherst, he is in the vicinity of 70,000
more, '^f which 40,000 are close at hand. Many thousands of these have been
reclaimed from the sea in recent times, but the greater proportion has been
steadily mown for the last two hundred years. A marsh, once established, is al-
ways fertile. It needs no manure, save that supplied by nature in the deposit of
rich alluvium which is left when the turbid tides are allowed to overflow the
land. It is said that four inches of this muddy sediment, supplied in layers
of perhaps a tenth of an inch at any one tide, will insure abundant crops for a
century. One of the Cumberland marshes is known as the Elysia.i Fields,
but all of it may be termed a Bovine Paradise. The famous Westmoreland
and Cumberland cattle here revel in rich grasses in which their hoofs are
hidden from sight, and here are supplied the bone and sinew of the horses in
which the farmers delight. Marsh land is worth from $100 to $200 an acre,
according to the care that has been given it, and three tons of hay to the acre
is a common yield. If need were, much more than hay might be produced
from these fertile fields, but, under existing conditions, the old-time staple is
the most profitable to \he farmer. His marsh is a bank which insures him
more than compound interest, and can never fail.

The government experimental farm is situated at Nappan, a few miles
beyond Amherst, and the next station is Maccan, where the Nova Scotia coal
fields begin to show themselves. A branch railway connects the Intercolonial
with the Joggins Mines, which have a heavy annual out-put, and beyond them
is Minudie, famous for its grindstones. Beyond Maccan is Athol, from which
one may take the stage for Parrsboro', and have a pleasant drive through a
very beautiful country. If he prefer to go to the latter place by rail, he can
leave the Intercolonial at Springhill Junction and make a journey of 32
miles on the Cumberland Railway. On the way he may stop at the Spring-
hill Mines, where he will get an idea of what a Nova Scotia coal mine can
yield.

The mines at Springhill have an annual output which is double that of any
other mine in this province of coal fields. The quantity brought to the sur-
face at this place in 1890 was 376,550 tons, an increase of nearly ro,oootonf;
over the output of the preceding year. Yet it is only about a quarter of a
century since any effort was made to develop these magnificent areas, and it
is within a score of years that any attempt has been made to operate them
on anything like a large scale. In that time a town ot 5,000 people has
arisen where before stood only a few log houses and the solitary country
store.

The most terrible mine explosion ever known in this part of Canada oc-
curred here on th6 21st of February, 1891, causing the loss of 125 lives, and
sending sorrow into many hundreds of homes. Had it not been for the
prompt relief sent from cities and towns far and near, blank destitution would
have been the fate of the most of the stricken widows and orphans.

PARRSBORO.

In a^beautiful country, and on the shore of the Basin of Minas of which
poet'i have sung the praise, Parrsboro has many attractions for the tourist in
quest of quiet enjoyment. It 's a place of no mushroom growth, for it was
settled by the American Loyalists, who named it in honor of the first governor
of Nova Scotia, which then included all of what is now New Brunswick. The
village is a busy place, and does a large business in the shipping of coal and
lumber, but what is of more importance to the traveller, it is a very pleasant
place of sojourn. A little distance inland is the warm breath of summer,
" with spicy odors laden " from the forests and fields, while upon the shore
are the gentle salt-water breezes, not raw and chilly as upon the Atlantic sea-
board, but tempered until they become most grateful to the senses. The fogs
which sometimes enter the Bay of Fundy rarely intrude here, and never
remain sufficiently long to cause a feeling of discomfort.

The most pleasant spot in the vicinity of Parrsboro is Partridge Island,
about two miles from the village. It is a peninsula with an area of fifty acres,
but becomes an island during high tides, when the water covers the low
ground in the rear. From this low ground the land rises grandly to a height
of about 250 feet, and exposes a bold and majestic bluff to the waters of the
basin. Through the beautiful woods by which it is covered, a road winds
gracefully to the summit, the timber being cleared at intervals to allow unob-
structed views of the surrounding country. These views are simply glorious.
The Basin of Minas, famed for its beauty, is here seen to its best advantage.
A splendid panorama of sea and land flashes upon the spectator. Far down,
where the waters of Fundy become broad and deep, is seen Cape D'Or over-
looking the bay. Nearer, as the channel enters the basiii, stand Capes Sharp
and Split, like sentinels to guard the pass, while Blomidon, rising from the
waves, looks down upon the fair and fertile marshes of Grand Pre — the land
of Gabriel and Evangeline. Within the basin, the eye ranges far up into
Cobequid Bay and across to where the broad waters of the Avon seek their
journey to the sea. All round the shores are seen the tokens of a goodly
land and a prosperous people. Here and there are islands of rare beauty,
while on all sides the mountains, valleys and plains, blend with a harmony
which no painter can portray.

The drives and walks in the vicinity of Parrsboro are numerous and
most enjoyable. The roads are always good, for the soil is of clean gravel,
and mud is unknown at any season of the year. In whatever direction one
goes, there are roads upon which it is a pleasure to drive. If another good
view is desired, a drive of two miles up the basin to Fraser's Head, or Silver
Craig, will be of advantage. Cascade Valley, three or four miles from the
village, has a picturesque waterfall, and another, having a descent of perhaps
a hundred feet, is found at Moose River, seven miles distant. One of the
most attractive drives, however, is to the beautiful Five Islands, twelve miles

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away. Much of the road thither is romantic in the extreme, presenting all
kinds of scenery. For four or five miles the way lies in a gorge between the
mountains, while the towering cliffs overshadowing the scene awaken the
most sublime emotions. The beauty of Five Islands, too, is something to be
long remembered, and, indeed, the place has long had a wide fame, among
searchers for the picturesque in nature. Many prefer to visit Five Islands
by sail-boat, and excursions are very frequent.

Those who have never seen one of the curious natural roadways knows
as horsebacks should take a drive in the direction of River Hebert. Thin
horseback begins at Fullerton's Bridge, ten miles from Parrsboro, and con-
tinues for about eight miles. It much resembles a railway embankment,
having the river on one side and low, marshy land on the other. It formed
part of the old Military Road to Fort Cumberland, and bears the not specially
poetical name of the Boar's Back. Geologists say that it was formed at two
branches of contract of the polar current, moving side by side but with
different velocities, thus giving the effect of an eddy. The Indians had a
different idea of its origin, and ascribed it to Glooscap, surnamed The Liar,
the mighty being who had his summer resort at Partridge Island, which they
called Puleweek Munegoo. When Mr. Glooscap felt indisposed to take his
exercise by leaps of nine miles or so at a time, he amused limself with the
more gentle recreation of riding around the bay on the back of a whale. This
Boar's Back, which was Ou Wokun — the causeway — was thrown up by him
in a hurry one day, while his companions were discussing which was the
shortest road from Fort Cumberland to Partridge Island. He is credited
with some other equally remarkable feats in this vicinity. Some beavers
built a dam from Blomidon to the opposite shore of what is now Minas Basin,
but when Glooscap cut thi eastern end of it, the whole mass swung around
without breaking and formed Cape Split. He must have had a hand like a
steam shovel, for the few handfuls he threw to hasten the beavers' retreat
formed what is now known as Five Islands. Picking up a rock that was in
the way, he playfully threw it to a distance of one hundred and fifty miles,
after which, it is to be presumed, he concluded to *' knock off and call it
half a day." Leland's Algonquin Legends has further and fuller particulars
about this remarkable individual. Me was not called The Liar during his
residence in these parts. Forbearance was not one of his distinguishing
virtues, and the fact that there were no accident policies in those days had a
tendency to repress anything in the nature of candid criticism. When he was
about to leave the earth, because the style of some of the society circles made
him tired, he invited all the beasts of the forest to a sort of five-o'clock-tea at
Partridge Island, and surprised them by putting the Algonquin equivalent of
pour prendre conge on the menu card. In the midst of the gossip, while the
charming Miss Beaver was telling the engaging Miss Muskrat about papa's
new house, while Mrs. Rabbit was showing the admirable fit of her dark
summer drtss, while young Wolfe was grinning away back to his ears at the

playfulness of the She Bear, Glooscap got into a canoe and sailed away sing-
ing, in a kind of a "see you later" sort of a way. Before he left, he said he
would come back again, but as season after season passed and he failed to
return, it was considered safe to call him a liar, with all that the na'ne
implied. It would seem no more than just that a similar title should be be-
stowed upon the aboriginal gentleman who acted as his biographer.

The Basin of Minas receives the waters of nineteen rivers and their tribu-
taries, and at the upper end of it the spring tides rise to a height of sixty
feet, a record which no other part of America can equal. Around the shores
of this large haven the visitor will find much to engage his attention, visiting
Blomidon, the Islands, and the numerous peaceful bays. Sheltered from rude
winds and heavy seas, safe, capacious and beautiful, the Basin has all that
pleasure seekers may desire.

Thirteen miles to the north and west of Parrsboro, at Sand River, is-
found some of the best caribou and moose hunting in Nova Scotia. Here
there is a large area in which, from the middle of September to the last of
January, an abundance of shooting may be had, both of this game and of
bears. Nearer to Parrsboro are large numbers of partridge, so plenty indeed,
that as many as thirty-two have been shot in one afternoon. Geese, brant,,
ducks, and other sea-shore game are abundant around the shores. This part
of the country always had a good reputation for sport. Two hundred and
fifty years ago, it is written, game was so plenty that the Indians of this part
of Acadia had so little exertion to make in hunting that they were considered
sedentary in their habits. They have also disappeared, but the game is still to
be found.

This is not notably a salmon country, though some are found in Par-
tridge Island and Five Island rivers, and are present, to a certain extent, ir*
others. The trout fishing is fair, there being plenty of medium size. Par-
tridge Island, Moose, Diligent and Half Way rivers are the best fishing
streams. Some sport may also be had at Leak's Lake and Lake Pleasant,
close to Parrsboro ; at FuUerton's Lake, nine miles away, and at Gaspereaux
Lake, six or seven miles distant. Good salt water fishing may be had in the
Basin, where cod, halibut, hake, pollock, and haddock, are found in abund-
ance. Fresh fish may, therefore, be had all through the season, while the
best of farm products are got from the adjacent country.

Little idea of the country is gained by the traveller from what he can see
from the car windows between Truro and Amherst. He will learn this from
his trip to Parrsboro, but he has very much more to learn as he proceeds.
When he reaches Oxford Junction, for instance, he does not see the busy Ox-
ford which sends its famous homespuns to the markets of many lands, and so
in other cases he will find that drives of an hour or so will lead to some of the
fairest and most flourishing places in Nova Scotia. Some of these are around
the magnificent harbors of the north shore, such as that at Pugwash, which is
one of the finest in the province, and some are in the fertile farming districts

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which lie between the railway and the sea. The Oxford & Pictou branch of
the Intercolonial passes through some of these. It extends from Oxford
Junction to Pictou, a distance of 69 miles, and may be made part of the
route to Prince Edward Island, or Cape Breton, or it may be utilized on the
return journey. The road is finished with the same careful attention to de-
tails as is so noticeable on the main line, and it opens up a very important
section of the country. By it access is had to Pugwash, Wallace, Tatama-
gouche, River John, and other places which have long had a prosperous ex-
istence and a more than local fame. The road runs quite close to the shore
at Tatamagouche, and the traveller may see from the train the physical
feature from which it is possible the place got its name. The word Tatama-
gouche is said to mean "like a dam," and a ridge which rises from the water
may have suggested the idea to the practical mind of the red man. This dis-
poses of any theory that the term was used in a profane sense. The Indians,
neither having to team oxen nor put up stove pipes, had no use for swear
words. It is highly improbable that they ever said ** tatamagouche " in the
way of ironical comment.

Wallace and River John are villages in which a brisk trade is done, and
they are admirably situated for the purpose of the summer tourist. The
facilities for seaside recreation and the abundance of charming scenery cannot
fail to make a sojourn there a season of recreation and rest. River John, in
particular, is a delightful place, and the good roads in the vicinity give oppor-
tunities for short and inte.asting drives. Such places as Cape John, with its
long beaches of white sand, McDonald's Cove and Brule, are within a radius
of five miles from the village. On the way to Brule, on a September morn-
ing, hundreds of seals may be seen sporting in the water close to the shore.
Then, too, there is "lir fishing in River John, while trout are found in great
abundance in all the lakes.

Apart from the attractions to be found along the shore, this branch of
the railway runs through a settled country where the land has long been
tilled with profit and the people are of the substantial farming class. It needs
but a brief glance by a stranger to note the abundant evidence of the energy
and thrift of the owners of the soil.

Pictou will be referred to more fully in connection with other places in
the coal regions. Resuming his journey on the main line, the traveller is
carried over the Cobequid Mountains, and when he reaches FoUeigh Lake he
is 607 feet above the sea, if he stands on the track, and somewhat higher if he
is in the upper berth of a sleeping car. This is the highest point on the In-
tercolonial, with the exception of a summit beyond the Metapediac, and the
air is very bracing. Before the days of steam, electricity and lawn tennis,
the people in this part of Nova Scotia used to live to an abnormally old age,
and fine specimens of the old inhabitant are to be found in every settlement
to this day. The scenery among the mountains is more than picturesque.
The traveller can supply his own adjectives, according to the mood he is in

and the state of the weather. Sometimes the eye will catch a pastoral picture
of a winding valley, dotted with cottages in the midst of fertile fields, while
far below him a glistening of water tells where the river flows through the
bright green intervales, or leaps in fairy- like cascades in its journey down the
hillside.

At other times the train passes through long and deep cuttings, where
the masses of rock bear witness to the labor required to break down the bar-
riers of nature. Then again the road takes a short cut from hill to hill, as at
Folleigh Valley, which is spanned by a viaduct six hundred feet long and
eighty-two feet above the little stream which trickles below.

At Londonderry a branch railway runs to the Acadia Iron Works three
miles distant, the operations of which will be of much interest to those not
familiar with the manufacture of iron from the ore. Stages also run to the
mines, and to Great Village, Economy, and Five Islands.

The Londonderry iron is said to be second in value only to the Swedish
for the manufacture of steel, and its well-known strength causes the occurrence
of its name in the stipulations of many an important contract.

TRURO.

In the month of May, 1761, the "first families " of Truro began to
build what is now not only one of the fairest but one of the most progressive
towns in the length and breadth of the Maritime Provinces. There were 53
of such families, numbering 120 persons, and in addition to their farming
tools and household goods their wealth consisted of 1 1 7 cattle, some seed
corn and potatoes. They were Irish, and from the North of Ireland at that.
They had been living in New Hampshire, where their posterity might have
been at war with a rocky soil to this day if the British Government had not
experienced one of the few happy thoughts which occurred to it in regard to
the colonists in the early years of the reign of His Majesty George the Third,

This was no less than to utilize loyal subjects of the crown as an anti-
dote to the Indians and the Acadians. The latter had been banished from
Nova Scotia six years before, but some of them still lurked in the woods, and
Cape Breton, with its forces at Louisburg, was still held by France. Under
these circumstances, liberal inducements were offered to New England colo-
nists to come and help build up the country. There were not wanting plenty
with pluck enough to accept the invitation, and that part of the Cobequid
district which is now Truro was one of the Meccas in the colonial pilgrimage.

There was little to be seen there but woods, water and mud. The agents
of Governor Lawrence had been so zealous in their work of exterminating the
French that even the score or two of houses which had been scattered over
this part of the country had lighted the fugitives with their blazing thatches.
The new comers found no cottages to shelter them. Five or six miles down
the river were two sorry looking buildings in which hay had been stored, and
with practical Celtic sense they called that place " Old Barns." So it is

7«

called by all truly conservative people to this day, despite thelefforts of the
iconoclast to ignore what Governor Sir Adams Archibald hasjvery properly
designated a ' name of historical value.'' Fortunately for the peace of the
truly fashionable society of Truro to-day, no relic, not even an old horse, was
found on the site of the town, and so it received a euphonious, unhackneyed
and decidedly aristocratic name. It deserves it, and the older it grows the
more apparent is this fact. It is admirably situated on gently rising ground,
with the railway running along the valley at its base, near enough to be con-
venient to the business centre and yet not near enough to interfere with the
attractions in which good taste has been combined with what nature has done
to make the place beautiful. The long, wide streets are adorned with
shade trees ; the houses, great and small, have well kept lawns and
tasteful flower gardens, and visitors are always well pleased with the town.
Yet the town is more than good looking ; it is active and enterjjrising. A
number of factories of various kinds are in operation, and others are pro-
jected. The stores do a brisk business ; some of the merchants are direct
importers to a large amount ; and, as a whole, the commercial aspect is that
of a live place. The population is about six thousand, and is increasing at a
rapid rate.

While at Parrsboro, the visitor had a chance of looking up to Cobequid
Bay. From Truro he can reverse the picture and look down. By ascending
Penny's Mountain, three miles from the Court House, a splendid view is had,
taking in the range of the North Mountains, terminating at Blomidon, while
the river meanders gracefully through the valley on its way to the troubled
waters of Fundy. From Wollaston Heights, a mile from the Court House, is
found another fine view of the surrounding country, while the best views of
the town, down to the bay, are had from Wimburn and Foundry Hills. A
drive to Old Barns, otherwise known as Clifton, will be found of interest,
stopping at Savage's Island, a mile and a half from the town. Here are the
traces of a burial ground, first set apart by the Acadians and afterwards used
by the Indians, but this circumstance did not give rise to the name of the
island. It was called after an old-time owner of the soil — a Savage by name
but not by nature. The wooden monuments of the ancient race can still be
seen ; and at times the tide, washing away portions of the bank, lays bare the
bones of those long since departed " to the Kingdom of Ponemah." The
Shubenacadie has a bore, similar to that of the Petitcodiac, which may be
seen rushing past the island as a part of the highest tide on the continent.

Close to the town, yet wholly apart from the surroundings of every-
day life, is Victoria Park, a place which nature has admirably adapted to
the purposes of a pleasure-gror.nd. One portion of it is a picturesque gorge
through which tumbles a silent brook. Following its windings and travelling
the paths which lead around the well-wooded hillsides, the visitor finds a
cascade of singular beauty, pouring over a barrier of rock that rises to a height
of fifty feet or more above the pool which the waters form at its base. This

is the place of which the gifted Joseph Howe wrote, three score years ago,
that " never was there a more appropriate spot for our old men to see visions
and our young men to drHuia dreams." Tt is the idc^l ot a lover's trysting
place, where to-day as is in the olden time, " many an expression of pure and
sinless regard has burst from lips that, after long refusal, at length played the
unconscious interpreters to the heart." After such a tribute, it is but just
that the memory of its author should be honored in the name of the Joe Howe
Falls. Further up the stream is another waterfall amid romantic surround-
ings, while the park, as a whole, is so charmingly rustic that the best of
judgment will be required to guard against too much of alleged improvement
by man.

If one has not seen the Acadia Mines, a drive to them from Truro, a
distance of twenty miles over a good road is well worth the trouble. Another
drive of twenty miles over Tatamagouche Mountains to Farm Lake takes one
through A rich variety of mountain scenery. All the trees of the forest are to
be seen on the lofty hills and in the pleasant vales. In many places the
branches overarch the road, and amid these umbrageous shades the voices of
the birds and the music of the brooks falls sweetly on the ear. At the lake,
elevated over a thousand feet above the sea, the fisherman may enjoy a calm
content amid Nature's beauties, and have a further reward in an abundance
of excellent trout. Trout of the best quality are found in all of the numerous
lakes in this vicinity.

Salmon exist in the waters around Truro, but the pursuit of them is
usually under difficulties. Sometimes they take the fly, but more times they
do not. The North and Salmon Rivers have been restocked from the Gov-
ernment establishment at Bedford, and will doubtless afford good sport in
time. In the latter river graylings are caught in large quantities. Some
allege that this fish is a trout, and others that it is a young salmon. What-
ever it may be, it is a lively player under the rod. It ranges from two to six
pounds in weight. When large salmon are caught, it is in the month of
August. None of the Nova Scotia rivers are under lease, and it costs nothing
to try one's luck, which may, at times, prove very good. The Shubenacadie
and Stewiacke are worth a trial, and Crystal Lake, near Brookfield, has
afforded sport in the past. In the last named rivers the " Admiral " is the
favorite fly. Trout and grayling are found in the streams already named, in
the Folleigh and Debert Rivers and in Folleigh Lake. The latter is a pretty
sheet of water, with clusters of islands, and boats are kept for the use of
visitors. The lake has also been stocked with white fish from Ontario. The
" Red Hackle" is a good fly for any of the lakes ; tlie " Brown Hackle" is
good in all places, while the " May Fly" does excellent service in the early
part of the season.

A thick forest covers all of the range of mountains from Truro to Tata-
magouche Bay, and affords good sport. The best moose ground, however, is
among the Stewiacke Mountains, commencing, say, fourteen miles from the

J»Ulh'>*Ll

town. Johnson's Crossing, five miles, and Riversdale, twelve milea, have
also good reputations . Caribou are migratory, and not to be depended on,
but a likely place for them is at Pembroke, tventy-three miles distant. Indian
guide*: can be hired in Truro for about a dollar a day. They will do all the
cooking and camp work, and are to be relied on in matters of woodcraft.

Partridge are plentyj and, after the latter part of July, snipe, plover and
curlew may be bagged on the marshes within a hundred yards of the court
house. Ducks, geese and brant frequent the lakes in the fall and spring.

The most profitable kind of game in this part of the country is the fox —
when it does not make itself too scarce. The silver and gray reynards are
not to be despised ; but that rare and valuable creature, the black fox, means
something ove. a hundred dollars a pelt. One of the residents struck a bon-
anza, a few winters ago, by trapping four of them, and exchanging their skins
for over four hundred dollars in cas'^ It is but just to add that black foxes
are not sufficiently numerous to be a nuisance to the farmers, nor is the trap-
ping of them to be depended on as a permanent means of livelihood.

Nor are the people of Truro and Colchester of the class who trust to luck
and wait for good fortune to come to them. They are workers, who put their
shoulders together to boom the land they live in. Their list of manufactures
ranges from shoe pegs and bottled " pop " to millions of feet of lumber for
export and tens of thousands of tons of the best of iron and steel. Some of the
farms have shamed the boundless West by a yield of forty-six bushels of wheat
to the acre, and where a poor farmer is found he may be safely put down as
an immigrant who has newly ai rived from some other place. The leading
bi'siness houses of Truro would befit a city of five times its size, while some
of the private residences speak for themselves of the culture and refinement
of those who preside at their hospitable boards.

From Truro to Halifax is a distance of sixty-two miles, but it may be
that the traveller is on his way to Cape Breton, to visit both Halifax and St,
John later in the joi'tney. In such case he will take thePictou and Mulgrave
train on that part of the Intercolonial once known as the Eastern Extension,
calling at several places of interest on the way to the Strait of Canso.

DOWN AMONG THE COAL MINES.

Nobody knows how much coal there is in Nova Scotia. Geologists
have , ide estimates in regard to the areas of which they have knowledge,
and not even the Argus-eyed ** Old Subscriber," who keeps a scrap-book for
the purpose of correcting the newspapers, has ever attemj)ted to disprove
their statements. Enough is known to shov that the eastern part of tlie pro-
vince, including Cape Breton, was not big enough to hold the immense
deposit, and that if the seams were followed out under the Gulf of St. Law-
rence and the Atlantic Ocean, fuel would be found in sufficient quantity to
convert ever}' iceberg of the Polar Sea into boiling water.

The dav is far distant when resort must be had to the submarine mines.

The pick has been plied since the French began the work at the Joggins and
in Cape Bi;;eton, more than two hundred years ago, and the yield is growing
greater every year. More than one and three-quarters of a million tons were
taken out in 1889, an increase of two hundred per cent over the output of a
quarter of a century before. There are millions of tons more for the genera-
tions of the future.

Three-fifths of this valuable comniodity comes from the mines of the
counties of Cumberland and Pictou. They are good neighbors for the county
of Colchester, with its inexhaustible supply of iron. In the Pictou field,
according to Sir William Logan, there are 5,567 feet of strata, containing 141
feet of coal, in sixteen beds, which vary in thickness from three to thirty-four
feet. Later exploration has developed one seam of forty feet.

It will thus be seen that coal is king in this part of the country, and to
speak of a respected resident as a " Carboniferous " man is simply a compli-
ment equivalent to "as good as gold" in other places. It answers the same
purpose to say that his conduct as citizen is solidly " based upon conglom-
erate and amygdaloidal trap ;" it is purely a matter of taste as to which is the
more elegant term.

Nova Scotia is, accordingly, a very carboniferous sort of country, and
coal seams are found in a great many places. The strata seen at the Joggins
mines, where the sea washes the cliffs, is said to be the best display of the
kind in the world. Pictou shows a continuation of the same field — the great
Nova Scotia coal field, with its 76 seams of coal and a thickness of no less
than 14,750 feet of deposits. It took along time for all this to form. It was
so long ago, that every kind of animal which roamed in the forests of the period
has been extinct for thousands of years. Yes, the coal fields are pretty old ;
it took ages to form each one of the seams ; and yet when the fisherman barks
his shins on the granite rocks of the Nepisiguit, on Baie des Chaleurs, he
feels something that is a good deal older. It may mitigate his wrath and re-
press his profanity to know that he is bruised by what was part of the bottom
of an ocean, ** before a single pi nt had been called into existence of the
myriads entombed in the coal deposits." So it will be seen that coal is quite
a parvenu^ as compared with some of the geological families ; but it is old
enough for all practical purposes where man is concerned.

The town of Pictou is reached by a branch of the railway fromStellarton,
another famous mining place.

PICTOU.

Here is a place which has some claim to be called old. Wood, fashioned
by savage implements, has been found in the earth over which grew trees
that bore the ring marks of nearly three centuries. The Indians had been
there long befure that tree began to grow, for at a remote period their ances-
tors had feared the place, because of an ever burning fire. Therefore, they
called it " Pictou," or possibh " Bucto," just as " The River of Fire " in New

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Brunswick was named Rigi-buctou. The untutored mind did not under-
stand that a camp fire, a stroke of lightning, or spontaneous combustion, had
started a flame in a coal seam, which burned from one generation to another.
It may sound like an anecdote of the lamented Glooscap, but it is really the
statement of Prof. H. C. Hovey, that when he visited Albion Mines, a few
years ago, an ancient bed of ashes, with an area of two acres, still retained the
heat of the fire which must have ceased to burn nearly three centuries before.
It is probable that some of the heat lurks there to this day.

Pictou is an old, substantial town, with the best harbor to be found in
this part of Nova Scotia. Rising on a hill, as it does, it makes a fine appear-
ance when viewed from the water, or from the train as one approaches the
station. A closer inspection shows some handsome public and private build-
ings. Vessels of all sizes and rigs are in the harbor and at the wharves, and
the scene is altogether an inspiriting one. The town does a large shipping
business, and vast (juantities of coal are sent from here to places near and
far. Trade of other kinds is brisk, and large numbers of travellers visit the
place during the summer. A line of steamers runs to Prince Edward Island —
making daily trips to Charlottetown.

Some good scenery may be found in the vicinity. An admirable view of
the surrounding country and the waters to the north and east may be enjoyed
from the roof of the Academy. Drives in the vicinity of East, West, and
Middle Rivers will also repay one. Fitzpat: .ck's Mountain and Green Hill
have already been mentioned, and another good view is from Mount Thom.
Another drive is down the shore to Caribou Point and between Caribou River
and River John. For bathing, a good place is at Caribou Cove, less than
two miles from the town, where there is a fine sandy beach. Other good
bathing places may also be found with little trouble. The country, with its low
land along the shores and hills and valleys in the interior, its lakes and its
rivers, hafS many scenes of real beauty.

The fishing vicinity is chiefly confined to trout. Salmon enter the
streams only in the spawning season, about the first of September, and go out
before the ice begins to form.

Barney's, French, and Sutherland Rivers and River John have good sea
trout during the summer. Middle and West Rivers have small runs of trout,
but, taken as a whole, the rivers in this vicinity have been pretty well " fished
out." Fine trout are, however, taken at times in Maple and McQuarrie's
Lakes. Some good sport may be found in fishing for mackerel, cod, etc., on
the coast.

The country to the southward of Pictou has an abundance of moose. Let
one take a trip, with guides, from West River, through Glengarry, Stewiacke,
Nelson's and Sunny Brae, and over to Caledonia, or Guysboro, and he is
pretty sure to have fair luck. Caribou are found at times, but moose is the
chief game to be relied on. Bears are plenty, and so are partridge. Along
the shore, snipe, plover, curlew, geese and all kinds of ducks, are found in
large numbers.

New GLASGOW

There is no possibility of any learned discussion as to the meaning of the
name of this busy town. It may be questioned whether Pictou owes its title
to the Indian word " piktook," a bubbling up, or as has just been alleged, to
" Bucto," which means fire ; there is no doubt as to the significance of desig-
nation of the settlement of the men " frae Glasgae." It needs but a short
ramble along the curiously winding main street for the stranger to see that
the North Briton possessed the land in generations past, and that his children
and his works do follow him. Here, as in much of the country to the east-
ward, everything is as essentially Caledonian as it can be, even af:er the
growth of a century or more on the soil of America. Old and immortal
names in Scotland's history adorn shop after shop, and the descend;ints of
tiiose who fought with Bruce and Wallace stand behind the counters, sur-
rounded with all the insignia of peace.

There are a great many of these shops, and there are many useful indus-
trials, some of which are of more than ordinary importance. The extensive
iron, steel and glass works are samples of these, while factories of various
kinds add to the hum of industry. Shipbuilding has been carried on here
with great success, while the adjacent coal mines have, of course, an impor-
^nt effect in adding to the prosperity of the town. New Glasgow is a live
place, and Icz people are full of enterprise. «•»

The nearest place from which a good view of the surrounding country
can be obtained is Frarer's Mountain, about a mile and a half from the town.
This view takes in Prince Edward Island, Pictou and Pictou Island, and
down the shore as far as Cape St. George, besides the country in the rear.
He who wants to see coal mines and some good scenery as well, should
drive to Stellarton, through the collieries, calling also at Middle River and
winding up at Fitzpatrick's Mountain, Green Hill. From the latter place the
country can be seen in all directions for a distance of something like forty
miles. A drive to Little Harbor, six or seven miles, and a bathe in the salt
water, will also have attractions for the pleasure seeker. At Sutherland's
River, six miles distant, is a fine waterfall with picturesque surroundings.

Traveller in this land of plea<?ure, do you want a new sensation ? If so,
take off that natty travelling suit, borrow or buy some old clcihes, and explore
a. coal mine. There are plenty of them in Pictou county, but if you expect
the light, airy Mammoth-Cave-sort of a place that the imagination of artists
has depicted, you may not find it. There is light enough for the workers,
and there is, too. an abundance of darkness, dirt and water which pours from
the springs of the invaded earth. Is there danger ? Not to you, probably ;
though your guide may tell you that his father, brother or son was one of the
three score who perished in the Drummond Colliery explosion, or who sur-
vived to be one of the forty and more who perished in the famed Foord Pit.
It may give you a gruesome feeling to think of this when you are a thousand

so,

feet or so under the earth, and you will be glad to see daylight again. Some
one has said that no one can appreciate cold water so well as a man who
suffers from the thirst which, it is said, follows a debauch. Be that as it may,
no one can better realize the beauty of green fields, the blessing of pure air
and the glory of the sunlight, than he who has been down among the coal
mines.

ANNO MURIUM-

Somewhere around this part of Nova Scotia the stranger may be fortunate
enough to find one of the very oldest inhabitants who was an eye-witness to
those most extroardinary events which happened in the Year of the Mice.
The younger generation appear to know little about it, though it was a memor-
able epoch in the history of the country. It was, in fact, a plague of mice,
which visited Pictou, Colchester and Antigonish, as well as Prince Edward
Island. As long ago as 1699, Dierville wrote that the latter place had a
plague either of mice or locusts every seven years, bu<" in more modern times
the phenomenon has beeu witnessed but once. That once was enough.

It was in the year 1815 that the mice took a " Grand Farewell Benefit,"
in the presence of a large but far from admiring audience. They began to
show themselves at that period in the year when the Spring Poet warbles and
the sap runs from the maples, and the first intimation of their presence was
the finding of their bodies in the troughs which the industrious sugar makers
had placed in the woods. An occasional mouse would do no harm in such
instances — it might give a " body " to the syrup ; but when it came to pass
that the mice who emulated ** maudlin Clarence in his malmsley butt" left little
room for the sap, there was a mingling of wonder and wrath.

They were not the timid little creatures seen nowadays, which sometimes
die of fright. They were field mice of the largest kind, like half-grown rats,
and they had a boldness more than proportioned to their size. They came
from tlie woods, but how they got into the woods nobody has attempted to
explain ; and it is in just such cases as this that the nineteenth century misses
the ingenious liars who invented the legends of the Greeks, Romans and
North American Indians. Nobody knows where the mice started, but " they
got there, just the same." By planting time they had reached the settlements,
and their number had been augmented to an extent which struck terror to the
hearts of the people ; and the cry was : " Still they come ! " If Burns, who
had such compassion for the field mouse, had been there he would not have
stopped to write poetry, but would have got out a field roller and crushed
them by the thousand. They ate everything that mice can eat, and nearly ate
up the people, for when molested they sat on their haunches and squealed
defiance with their glistening teeth laid bare. As with the rats at Hamelin
Town in Brunswick :

" They fought the dogs and killed the oats,
Made nests inside men's Sunday hats.
And even spoiled the women's chats,

By shrieking and squeaking
In fifty different sharps and flats."

7»

It took a brave dog to face a mob of them, and ordinary cats proved that
goodjgeneralship is often shown by a timely and skilful retreat. Dr. Patterson,
in his History of Pictou, is authority for the statement that a farmer attempted
to sow oats at Merigomish, and was disgusted to find that the mice ate them
as fast as he sowed. Finding that his labor simply amounted to feeding part
of a hungry horde, he finally got out of patience, threw all his oats at them
and went home in intense disgust. Spreading over the country as the season
advanced, they devoured ail before them. Acres were stripped of growing
crops, and still the mice grew and their appetites increased apace. Trenches
were dug and all sorts of expedients resorted to, but in vain. The mice ques-
tion became an absorbing one, when all at once the intruders made up their
minds to get up and get. But, as withthe army of Napoleon in Russia, and the
followers of De Soto to the Mississippi, death marched in their midst. Thou-
sands of those that had achieved such brilliant conquests lay down and died.
Thousands more reached the sea-shore, but only to die. All along the coast
their bodies lay piled up in masses like lines of sea-weed, and for many weeks
the fish caught in the bays were found to have their maws filled with the
remains of the annihilated army of mice.

For many years after this remarkable visitation, it was the custom of
many of the people to reckon births, marriages, deaths, etc., as being such
and such a time after the year of the mice. Anno Mtirmm took the place of
Anno Domini ; but as succeeding generations grew up, this system of chron-
ology became obsolete, and it has long since ceased to be known, save to
those who have learned it from the traditions of their fathers,

ANTICONISH.

If you want able-bodied men, go to Antigonish. Here you will find the
descendants of Highlanders, who look able for all comers. Six feet and odd
inches tall are they, and stout in proportion.

Antigonish is called the prettiest village in Eastern Nova Scotia. Its
neat, tidy dwellings stand amid beautiful shade trees on low ground, while
the hills rise in graceful cones near at hand. Among these hills are sweet
and pleasant valleys and the brooks are as cleav as crystal. The village is
the capital of the county, and is also the seat of the Bishop of Antigonish.
St. Ninian's Cathedral is a fine edifice, built of stone and erected at a large
expense. It is said to seat 1,200 persons. St. Francois Xavier College is
situated near it, and has many students. The community is largely com-
posed of Scotch of the Roman Catholic faith, and as many of the older people
speak Gaelic only, sermons are preached in that as well as the English lan-
guage. The harbor is eight miles away, and has a good, though rather shal-
low, beach. The village has several hotels.

It is believed that the word " Antigonish " is a corruption of the Indian
" Nalkitgoniash," which means either Forked River or Big Fish River, The
latter interpretation does not have any significance in these days, for there is

little to attract the angler. The shooting, also, is poor, but good scenery is
plenty. The *' Lord's Day Gale " and other]storms have done a large amount
of injury to the forests, but enough beauty remains to satisfy the sightseer.
By all odds, the most attractive spot is at Lochaber Lake, on the road to
Sherbrooke, six miles from the village. This lake is about six miles long, and
the road runs along its bank for the entire distance, amid foliage of the most
attractive character. The water is very deep and remarkably clear and pure,
while the banks rise abruptly from it and have a very beautiful effect. It was
of this lake that the late Hon. Joseph Howe said —

" Far down the ancient trees reflected lie ;
Stem, branch and leaf, like fairy tracery,
Wave 'round the homes of some enchanting race,
The guardian nymphs of this delightful place."

The Sherbrooke road is a good way by which to reach some of the fish-
ing and hunting grounds of Guysboro. By going about twenty miles, St.
Mary's River is reached, at the Forks. Here there is good fishing all along
the river, and good accommodation may be had at Melrose. From here to
the Stillwater Salmon Pools is seven miles, and some fine salmon may be
caught. Sherbrooke, a few miles lower down, is a very pretty place, and
here one may catch not only fine sea trout, but salmon ranging from fifteen
to forty pounds in weight. The fly best suited to this river is one with light
yellow body and dark yellow wings. In the other salmon rivers the
" Admiral " is a favorite, as well as another with turkey wing, gray body and
golden pheasant tail. Guysboro Lakes have fine trout in them. The moun-
tains of this county, too, are the haunts of moose and caribou. It is an excel-
lent country for sport.

The true artist — and by this is meant everyone who can appreciate the
panorama of nature — will find much to admire in this country, even as he
journeys on an express train. He will begin to see it even before he reaches
Antigonish. Such a name as that of Barney's River may not charm the car,
and it needs not an imaginative mind to make Marshy Hope the synonym of
all that is full of desolation and despair. Happily, the names are not indices
of the nature of the country. After leaving Barney River (why don't they
spell it Barony ?) the road runs through a canyon, extending for a number of
miles, and which is part of the beautiful Piedmont valley. Far away and
near at hand rise tree-clad hills, on which the sunshine gives a glory to the
varying hues of summer foliage, to show in vivid contrast with the shadows
cast in the vales beneath.

Near Antigonish is Sugar Loaf Mountain, with a height of 750 feet, —
from which is a view of sea and land that includes even the shore of Cape
Breton. On another hill the traveller will see where a civil engineer, C, C.
Gregory, has shown his appreciation of the beautiful by choosins the summit
as the site of his residence and grounds. Only a few miles from Antigonish

is Gaspereau Lake, which is five hundred feet above the water in the harbor,
so it will be seen that there is no lack of hills, with all kinds of scenery, in
this part of tie world.

Leaving Antigonish, South River is the first place to claim attention,
with its picturesque islands and green hills, while here and there the white
plaster rock brings out the colors of the forest and field in brighter relief. If
the journey be made in the autumn, it is almost a certainty that wild geese
and ducks will be seen at South River. It is no uncommon thing for an
approaching train to cause several flocks to rise from the river close at hand,
while at a distance may be seen the heads of thousands of others, as they
float tranquilly on the water.

Tracadie, a little more than half way between Antigonish and Port Mul-
grave, has a fine harbor, which opens into the broad and beautiful St. George's
Bay. Near here is an Indian reserve, but the most interesting community in
this part of the country is that of the Trappist Brothers, who have a monas-
tery, and are among the most expert of farmers. Despite the hills and rocks
seen on the journey, this is a fertile land, not only for staple crops, but for
the various fruits which can be brought to maturity in this latitude.

ON AN OCEAN BYE-WAY.

If the Atlantic be a highway for the commerce of nations, what but a
bye- way, or convenient short cut, is the Strait of Canso. It is the griat canal
which nature has placed between the ocean and the Gulf of St. Lawrence, by
which not only is distance shortened, but the perils of the sea are, in many
cases, reduced to a minimum. Fourteen miles or so in length, and about a
mile in width, its strong currents assert its claim to be part of the great sea
beyond, while the thousands of sail passing and repassing year after year, tell
of its importance to the trade of the whole Atlantic coast.

The Intercolonial Railway reaches the Strait of Canso at Mulgrave.
Here the high land on the western shore affords some glorious views, both of
the long stretch of water, dotted with all kinds of craft, and of the sloping hills
of the island beyond. The most prominent of the heights on the mamland is
Cape Porcupine, from the summit of which the telegraph wires once crossed,
high over the waters, to Plaister Cove. In the early days of ocean cables,
those slender threads in mid air were a part of the tie which united Europe
and America. When breaks occurred — and in such an exposed situation
they were bound to occur — the link between two worlds was broken. The
adoption of submarine cables solved the problem for all time.

If one is not in a hurry to proceed to Cape Breton, he may spend a few
days to advantage in the vicinity of Mulgrave, where there is not only some
impressive scenery, but good bathing and fair fishing. Morrison's Lake,
which lies under the shadow of Cape Porcupine, is two miles from the wharf,
and is reached by easy road. Big Tracadie Lake is three and a half miles
distant ; and Chisholm's Lake lies between the one last mentioned and the

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highway. The road is a good one and through a settled country. To the
southward of the wharf are the Goose Harbor Lakes, a chain which extends
from three miles beyond Pirates Harbor to the southern coast of Guysboro*.

" Where and what is Terminal City ? " may be asked by somebody who
has been trying to study up this part of Nova Scotia in advance of his journey
The "irst part of the (juestion is easily answered. It is about five miles south
of the railway at Mulgrave, and overlooks the Strait where it widens into an
indentation of the North Atlantic. What is it, is a question for the future to
answer. All that is known to the general public is that a syndicate of United
States capitalists has secured a block of land about eight miles long and run-
ning back three miles from the water, as well as a large block on the opposite
shore. The city is not yet built, but its streets have been laid out, the lots
located, and many other preliminary steps taken, as by reference to the plan
will more fully and at large appear. A large amount of money has already
been spent, and it is p/oposed to spend a good deal more in putting up a
mammoth hotel and privite residences. And then 1

Why then, say the projectors, Terminal City is to be not only a famous
summer resort, but a gt'at commercial metropolis. It is to be the point of
departure for the ocean greyhounds between England and America, and these
greyhounds will take but four days to reach Liverpool. The route will be
400 miles shorter than from the nearest United States port, and when the
proper railway coimections are made, more days will be saved in the journey
from Chicago and the West to this point on the seaboard. These, they say,
are some of the reasons why the city should be built, and they intend to build it.

CAPE BRETON.

Cape Breton is usually spoken of as an island, but it actually consists of
a number of islands, while there are numbers of peninsulas out of which even
more islands could be made, were there any occasion for the work. Water,
fresh and salt, has been distributed very liberally in this part of the world,
and it is to this that Cape Breton owes much of its charm as the paradise of
the summer tourist.

The land does its share as a part of the beautiful picture. There is
enough of it and some to spare, for of the more than two and a half million
acres only about a moiety is fit for cultivation. The rest of it is good for
other things. The productive coal measures, for instance, cover about 250
square miles, and there are other sources of wealth in the earth, some of
which are known and some of which have yet to be developed. Whether the
land is good or not is of little moment to the pleasure seeker, for it is enough
for him that it is one of the finest places in America for a sunimer outing.
It has been so far removed from the bustle of the world in the past that there
is a freshness about it that may be sought for in vain along the beaten high-
ways of travel. The primitive simplicity which amused Charles Dudley
Warner and other humorous writers is still to be found in many districts, but

JtMHMM

it is no longer a troublesome journey to reach even the mysterious Baddeclc
from any part of the continent. The Intercolonial system has opened up the
land, and the Cape Breton railway reaches from the Strait of Canso to the
harbor of Sydney, on the eastern shore. For much of the distance it runs
along the borders of that wonderfully beautiful inland sea, the Bras d'Or, or
of the rivers and bays that are tributary to it. The scenery is never tame,
because it is ever varied, and there are places where the speed of the slowest
train will seem but too fast to the lover of nature's beauty.

The railway begins at Point Tupper, just across from Mulgrave, and has
a length of ninety miles. At the outset, in aiming to provide a route as direct
as possible, it necessarily passes through a part of the country a little removed
from such settlements as those which cluster around River Inhabiiunts and
other places of note. For the same reason, it bridges some big gaps whica
the valleys have made. The trestle over McDonald's Gulch, with a length
of 940 feet, and a height of 90 feet above the bed of the stream, is the second
longest in Canada.

So it is that in the first half of the journey but little is seen of the people
of the country. The country itself, however, begins to give glimpses of its
beauty at such places as Seal and Orange Coves, McKinnon's Harbor, and
the various inlets of Denys' River. Then comes the famed Bras d'Or.

Who can describe the beauties of this strange ocean lake, this imprisoned
sea which divides an island in twain ? For about fifty miles its waters are
sheltered from the ocean of which it forms a part, and in this length it
expands into bays, inlets and romantic havens, with islands, peninsulas and
broken lines of coast— all combining to form a scene of rare beauty, surpass-
ing the power of pen to describe. At every turn new features claim our
wonder and admiration. Here a cluster of fairy isles, here some meandering
stream, and here some narrow strait leading into a broad and peaceful bay.
High above, tower the mountains with their ancient forests, while at times
bold cliffs, crowned with verdure, rise majestically toward the clouds.
Itfothing is common, nothing tame ; all is fitted to fill the mind with emotions
•of keenest pleasure.

The Bras d'Or waters have a surface area of 450 square miles, and while
the width from shore to shore is as much as eighteen miles in one place,
there are times when less than a mile separates shore from shore. So, too,
. the depth varies in somewhat the same ratio as rise the surrounding hills. In
^ne part of Little Bras d'Or there is a depth of nearly 700 feet, the
ufipression equaUing the height of the surrounding, land. Every variety of
landscape meets the eye of the delighted stranger, and it is because of this
variety that the eye never wearies and the senses are never palled.

It would be useless, and doubtless impolitic, to attempt to convince the
traveller that ** Bras d'Or " is only the corruption of a word that is not French
and has a wholly different meaning. As one sees the calm surface made
glorious by the rising or setting sun, with an ambient light like that which

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shone in the subtle distillations of the alchemists of old, there comes the
thotight that no other title than the " Ann of Gold " so well befits this Medi-
terranean of the Acadian Land. Yet there are not wanting those who argue
that this summer land had its name in common with that of " the cold and
pitiless Labrador, ' and that both are from the Spanish Terra de Laborador —
land thiiL may be cultivated. This would apply to the sPTOunding country,
but there is another theory which has been used in reference to the recog-
nized Labrador, and will apply with equal force here. It is that of M. Jules
Marcou, in a paper " Sur I'Origine du Nom d'Amerique," to be found in the
Transactions of the Quebec Geographical Society for i888. He avers, but
furnishes no corroborative evidence, that the name " Brador," or "Bradaur,"
is an Indian word which means " deep and narrow bay," pushing forward
through the land and corresponding to the Norwegian fiord. It may also be
remarked that Denys' map, dated 1672, shows "Le Lac de Labrador/' in
what is now Cape Breton.

Between the claims of the Indians, Spaniards, French and English, in-
cluding the abominably bad spellers who undertook to write books and make
maps, there is a good deal of haziness about some of the names in this
country. Some people prefer " Canseau " to the common Canso of commerce,
because it has more of a French look, but it is a debateable quertioa whether
the word is not a corruption of the Spanish Ganso, a goose, or the Indian
Camsoke, meaning high bluffs. Even the people who live hereabouts can
throw no light on the subject.

In following the railway, the stranger will occasionally see what looks
like a shallow pond, a hundred feet or so in diameter. It may surprise him
to learn that the bottom is sixty or a hundred feet from the surface. This is
a country of heights and depths, where at times the train runs through long
cuttings where the white plaster rock looms up on each side, to travel for
hundreds o^yards on high embankments in which the excavated material has
been made to bridge a valley. There is nothing flat about the scenery, unless
it may be the water, and even that is so only in a purely literal sense.

Nor is that always as flat as some would like it to be when they have to
cross the Bras d'Or after a heavy gale. The inland sea is bat a part of the
Atlantic, and an outajde storm may sweep its waters into fury. The direction
of the wind makes all the difference in the world.

Grand Narrows is the half-way point between Mulgrave and Sydney, and
a very comfortable stopping place it is, with the advantage of an hotel run on
modern principles. Here the Bras d'Or changes from a broad basin to make
its way through a passage less than a mile in width, the name of which is
Barra Strait. Why the village does not have the euphonious name of Barra,
instead of the less tasteful one of Grand Narrows, is a (Question for some of
the residents to ans^'-^r. It is a pretty enough place, with many opportunities
for the tourist to find summer recreation. The climate in all this part of the
country is delightful. \^th all the benefits of salt water breezes, there is very

little fog, and what there is of it is neither frequent, thick nor of long duration.
A prominent resident of Grand Narrows is authority for the statement that he
has known five consecutive summers to pass without a trace of this moist
visitant.

Grand Narrows is centrally situated as regards some of the most[inviting
spots in Cape Breton. Baddeck is only twelve miles distant, by water, and
a trip of twenty miles from it takes one to the beautiful Whycogamagh. It is
hardly necessary to]say that opportunities for good bathing and safe boating
are found everywhere in this diversified region of land and water, while there
is an abundance of fishing. Trout are caught with the fly from the Bras d'Or ,
as close to the hotel as the railway bridge, and what is more singular, fine fat
codfish also rise to the fly and are easily taken. Good sized trout are also
found at Benacadie, a few miles away, and at Eskasonie,' a litde further
removed. The River Denys has also a fine reputation among anglers.

The Bras d'Or is famed for its fine codfish, and the catching and curing
of them has been an important source of revenue to the people. Lobsters
are also abundant, and smelts are equally plenty in their season.

Then as for game, the sportsman may find all the partridge he seeks in
the woods, and thousands of plover, black duck, curlew and other sea fowl,
at all the inlets along the shore for many a mile along the line of railway.
Grand Narrows has not a monopoly of the good things, but it is convenient
because of its central situation.

The railway bridge which crosses Barra Strait at Grand Narrows is a
handsome as well as sustantial structure, with a length of 1697 feet. It is the
link which connects the eastern and western divisions of the road. It was
formally opened in October, 1890, by Lord Stanley of Preston, Governor-
General of Canada. His Excellency stood in the cab of the engine and
acted as driver during the passage across.

Everybody who wants to see the beauv'es of Cape Breton will go to
Baddeck, that picturesque village which rises gently on a graceful incline
from a land-locked harbor. The situation is a r ost happy one, while no
description can convey an adequate idea of t charms of the scenery.
Everything looks bright and beautiful ; sky, sea and green clad hills are
shown in their fairest hues, while all the surroundings are such as to fill the
soul with a sense of peace and rest. An entrancing sail of twenty miles along
St. Patrick's Channel and through Little Narrows, will bring one to Whyco-
comagh, another village famed for its beauty, to which much that has been
said of Baddeck will apply. This is a good point from which the fishing
resorts at Lake Ainslie and Margaree River, where both salmon and trout are
found, may be reached. From here, also, easy access may be had to River
Denys, to which reference has already been made.

To the north of this part of the country is an area of ibout 1,100 square
miles, consisting of a vast plateau which is at times at an elevation of 1,200
feet above the sea. This is still wild and unsettled, and a journey of a f rw

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hourslfrom Baddeck will take the hunter into the land of the moose and
caribou. Should one be ambitious to reach the most northerly point in Nova
Scotia, and be in a higher latitude than when in the city of Quebec, he can
follow the lonely roads along the coast to Cape St. Lawrence and Cape
North. From the latter it is a little more than sixty miles to Newfoundland,
while the gloomy rock known as St. Paul's Island, the terror of mariners in
former times, lies between. It has well been said that this part of Cape Bre-
ton^is the key to the St. Lawrence.

From Cape St. Lawrence the distance to the Magdalen Islands is but
fifty miles. The waters which lie between have been the scene of many a
tragedy in the past. One of the most memorable of these was the Lord's
Day Gale, of 23rd of August, 1873, which brought mourning to so many
fishermen's families in New England and the Provinces. Traces of this
terrible visitation are to be found all along the shore on this part of the
Gulf. The graphic description by E. C. Stedman is only too faithful.

Cape Breton and Edward Isle between.

In strait and gulf the schooners lay ;
The sea was all at peace, I ween,

The night before that August day ;
Was never a Gloucester skipper there,
But thought erelong, with a right good fare,

To sail for home from St. Lawrence Bay.

The East Wind gathered all unknown,—

A thick sea-cloud his fourse before ;
He left by night the frozen zone

And smote the cliflFs of Labrador;
He lashed the coast on either hand.
And betwixt the Cape and Newfoundland

Into the Bay his armies pour.

ITe caught our helpless oruiserg tliere
As a gray wolf harries the huddling fold ;

A sleet — a darkness— filled the air,
A shuddering wave before it rolled :

That Lord's Day morn, it was a breeze,—

At noon, a blast that shook the seas,—
At night— a wind of death took hold !

From Saint Paul's light to'jEdward Isle
A thousand craft it smote again ;

And some against it strove the while,
And more to mpke a port were fain :

The mackere'. gulls flew screaming past.

And the stick that bent to the noonday blast
Was split by tne sundown hurdMuia

There were twenty and more of Breton sail,
Fast anchored on one mooring ground ;

Each lay within his neighbor's hail,
When the thick of the tempest closed them round :

All sank at once in the gaping sea, —

Somewhere on the shoals their corses be,

The foundered hulks, and the seamen drowned.

On reef and bar our schooners drove

Before the wind, l)efore the swell ;
By the steep sand cliff their ribs wnre stove, —

Long, long their crews the tale sDall tell !
Of the Gloucester fleet are wrecks three score ;
Of the Province sail two hundred more

Were stranded in that tempest fell.

Returning to the Bras d'Or, and resuming the railway journey eastward,
one has little time or inclination for gloomy sentiment in the scenes amid
which he finds himself. It has been said that the interior of Cape Breton
more nearly resembles some parts of Scotland than does any other part of
Canada. Be that as it may, one will find whole settlements of Highland
Scotch, who stem perfectly at home amid their surroundings. In some dis-
tricts Gajlic is spoken almost to the exclusion of English, and it is still the
tongue heard from many a pulpit. Very often they will be found to be a
primitive people, with a simplicity of character which shows their unfamil-
iarity with the ways of the world beyond the confines of their birthplace. The
stranger is always welcome, and when he requires a service they are on the
alert to gratify his wishes. They do it with an air of being anxious to oblige,
ai^i very often look surprised when offered compensation. Roman Catholics
in their faith, the priest is a mighty power among them, and in no way is this
more clearly shown than in the restriction of the sale of liquor in some of the
country parishes. The voice of their spiritual adviser will do more than all
the acts which parliament may pass and the authorities seek to enforce.

From Barra Strait to Sydney, a distance of forty-five miles, the railway
journey permits some extended and beautiful views of the Little Bras d'Or.
Soma of the land attains a high elevation as it recedes from the shore, and
though this part of the Bras d'Or may be called " little, " %e greatest depth
of water in Cape Breton is found between Boisdale and Boularderie. The
latter is one of the several islands into which this country is divided,
and is in the shape of a tongue some twenty-six miles long and only two or
three miles wide, except at the eastern portion where it widens to about
double that distance. Some attractive scenery is found at Long Island,
which lies close to the shore traversed by the railway, in the vicinity of
George's River.

The country is net only more settled but more fertile as the traveller
proceeds, and in the vicinity ^theSydneys the evidences of thrift and

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prosperity are seen on every hand. One can hardly believe that two centuries
ago the Indians and one or t\. o missionaries were the only occupants of all
this part of America. The practical settlement of Cape Breton by the
English dates back to but little more than a hundred years ago.

Sydney, which dates its foundation back to 1783, is not an old town,
as towns go even in Canada, but it has a wide and enviable reputation. Its
bituiucnc us coal is of a quality for which people everywhere are willing to
pay the highest price, and there is a never-failing supply of it. The quantity
available in the fields of Cape Breton is estimated at a thousand million tons.
This does not include the numberless seams less than four feet in thickness,
nor the vast body which lies under the ocean between Cape Breton and
Newfoundland, one area of which is believed to contain 2,500 acres, with an
estimated yield of thirty -five million tons.

A good harbor is one of the features of Sydney, and here in the busy
season may be seen all kinds of shipping, from the ocean steamer to the
coasting schooner. Around the harbor proper are grouped the mines and
the lively town of North Sydney, which is also reached by rail from North
Sydney Junction.

If the tourist has the time it may repay him to take a trip to Cow Bay
or Mire B^iy, on the eastern shore. At the latter place he will find not only
a large and beautiful harbor but a very curious river, which has been properly
described as being more in the nature of a long, narrow and crooked lake.
From here, also, he can, but is not likely to, satisfy his ambition by standing
on the very furthest Down East Point in the Dominion of Canada, south of
the Province of Quebec. It is on Scatari Island, and standing on its shore
one may realize that for more than 2,300 miles to the eastward and over
1 ,600 miles to the southward, lies the unbroken Atlantic ocean.

On this coast, too, is a place made famous ere the English flag waved
i:a supremacy over Canada. It is Louisburg, once one of the strongest
fortified cities of the world, but now a grass-grown ruin where not one stone
is left upon another. Once it was a city with walls of stone which made a
circuit of two and a half miles, were thirty-six feet high, and of the thickness
cf forty feet at the base. For twenty-five years the French had labored upon
it, and had expended upwards of thirty millions of livres or nearly six million
dollars in completing its defences. It was called the Dunkirk of America.
Garrisoned by the veterans of France, and with powerful batteries command-
ing every point, it bristled with most potent pride of war. To-day it is
difficult to trace its site among the turf which marks the ruins. Seldom has
demolition been more complete. It seemed built for all time ; it has vanished
from the face of the earth.

Every New Englander should visit Louisburg. Its capture by the un-
disciplined New England farmers, commanded by William Pepperal, a
merchant ignorant of the art of war, is one of the most extraordinary events
in the annals of history. The zealous crusaders set forth upon a task, of the
difficulties of which they had no conception, and they gained a triumph
which should make their names as immortal as those of the " noble six
hundred." It was a feat without a parallel — a marvel among the most
marvellous deeds which man has dared to do.

Restored to France by the peace of Vix la Chapelle, Louisburg was
again the stronghold of France on the Atlantic coast, and French veterans
held Cape Breton, the key to the Gulf of St. Lr^wrence. The brief truce was
soon broken, and then came the armies of England, and Wolfe sought and
won his first laurels in the new world. Louisburg fell once more and the

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knell of its glory was rung. The conquest of Canada achieved, the edict
went forth that Louisburg should be destroyed. The work of demolition
was begun. The solid buildings, formed of stone brought from France,
were torn to pieces ; the walls were pulled down, and the batteries rendered
useless for all time. It took two years to complete the destruction, and
then the once proud city was a shapeless ruin. Years passed by ; the stones
were carried away by the dwellers along the coast ; and the hand of time was
left to finish the work of obliteration. Time has been more merciful than
man ; it has covered the gloomy ruin with a mantle of green and has healed
the gaping wounds which once rendered ghastly the land that Nature made
so fair. The surges of the Atlantic sound mournfully upon the shore — the
requiem of Louisburg, the city made desolate.

Another Louisburg exists to-d.iy, across the harbor from the site of the
former city. It has a population of about i,ooo, and is reached by the
Sydney & Louisburg Railway, a narrow gauge line, thirty-one miles in length.
The site of old Louisburg may be visited and the lines of some of the fortifi-
cations traced, and one who has a history which gives a good account of the
sieges may be interested and instructed in following out the plans of the
attacking parties. There is a magnificent harbor which opens on the broad
ocean, and one may enjoy all the pleasures of life by the sea-shore, on the
ground whcn^ the treasures of a nation were squandered.

The Bras d'Or, in all the beauty of its many nooks and bays, may
be seen by taking one of the steamers that make daily trips between
Sydney and Mulgrave. East Bay, which is not seen from the railway, may
be visited by this route, while the southesn passage between Bras d'Or and
the ocean will be found at St. Peter's Canal. This is another place where
Cape Breton gets the addition of an island by a narrow passage between
two sections of the land, though man, rather than nature is responsible for
it. Formerly the whole 450 square miles of water in the Bras d'Or had com-
munication with the sea only on the north-east coast, thougli at St. Peter's
Bay, only a half mile or so of isthmus prevented a south-west passage, with
the avoidance of all the risks of navigation around the coast and a vast
saving of time and distance. The construction of the canal solved the
problem in a very simple and satisfactory way.

There are times when some of the most glorious of nature's panoramas
can be seen in the vicinity ot St. Peter's. On a calm summer's morning the
peaceful sea is a mirror which reflects in rare beauty the red, purple and
golden hues which the sunlight gives the hills. On the land the colors are
strangely bright, while the waters soften and blend the whole into a picture
vhich must ever linger in the memory.

Around and among the islands, past high bluffs, gentle slopes of vivid
green and sombre mountains rising far away, the traveller enters the Strait
of Canso once more. According to his opportunities and inclination, he has
seen much or little of the beauties of Cape Breton. Few indeed are likely to
feel that a hasty journey has been sufficient to show them all they would like
to see. They will come again another year — and it may be, yet another —
never wearying in their wanderings in this peaceful summer land.

trUro to Halifax.

From Truro to Halifax the railway runs through a fine country, the
most flourishing portion of which is not seen by the traveller. Large tracts
of rich intervale and excellent upland combine to make one of the finest
farming districts in Nova Scotia. Through this flows the Stewiacke River,

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which takes its rise among the hills of Pictou and flows for forty miles or so,
until it empties into the Shiibenacadie at Fort Ellis. The Shubenacadie is a
large and swift stream, and was at one time looked upon as the future high-
way of commerce across the province. More than half a century ago the
people of Halifax grew excited over the idea that the trade of the ba.sin of
Minas was being carried to St. John. Nature had placed a chain of lakes at
the source ot the river, and it would seem that art would have little trouble
in constructing a canal. Meetings were held, surveys and speeches were
made, money was subscribed and the work was begun. It was never
finished, and never will be. The enthusiasm subsided, the supplies ceased,
and the Great Shubenacadie Canal was abandoned. The ruins still exist,
but the railway has taken the place of a canal for all ti.ne to come.

Both ihe Slewiacke and the Shubenacadie have good fishing, and so
have the lakes beyond the latter as Windsor Junction is approached, (irand
Lake has fine fishing in June, July, September and October. Some years
ago, 120,000 whitefish were put into this lake and are doing well. All the
lakes of Halifa.x county afford good fishing, but the rivers, with few excep-
tions, are short and rapid streams which become very low during the summer
sea.son.

As for game, the fact that, in September, 1890, an express train ran
down and killed three moose, within a hundred yards of Wellington station,
twenty-one miles from Halifax, speaks for itself.

The country from Shubenacadie east to Canso abounds with moose
and otlier game, as has alreadv been intimated in connection with Guysboro.

Windsor Junction, fourteen miles from Halifax, has admirable facilities
for the pasturage of goats, and the procuring of ballast for breakwaters.
Here the line branches off to Windsor, and down the Annapolis Valley by
the W. & A. Railway. Passing by the Junction, the next station is Bedford,
nine miles from Halifax, and here is seen the upper end of that beautiiul
sheet of water — Bedford Basin. Along its shores the train passes and, as
the city becomes nearer, the beauty of the scene increases. At length the
city is reached and the traveller alights in one of the finest of the Inter-
colonial structures, the North Street Depot.

Halifax.

Everybody has heard of Halifax, the city by the sea, and of its fair and
famous harbor. This harbor, they have been told, is one of the finest in the
world — a haven in which a thousand ships may rest secure, and yet but a
little way removed from the broad ocean highway which unites the eastern
and the western worlds. They have been told, also, that this harbor is
always accessible and always safe ; and all of this, though true enough, does
the harbor of Halifax but scanty justice. All harbors have more or less of
merit, but few are like this one. Here there is something more than merely
a roomy and safe haven — something to claim more than a passing glance.
To undei'stand this we must know something of the topography of the city.

Halifax is located on a peninsula and founded on a rock. Easi and
west of it the sea comes in, robbed of its terrors and appearing only as a
thing of beauty. The water on the west is the North-west Arm, a stretch of
about three miles in length and a quarter of a mile in width. To the
south and east is the harbor, which narrows as it reaches the upper end of
the city and expands again into Bedford Basin, with its ten square miles of
safe anchorage. The Basin terminates at a distance of nine miles from the
city, and is navigable for the whole distance. The city proper is on the

eastern slope of the isthmus and rises from the water to a height of 256 feet
at the citadel. On the eastern side of the harbor is the town of Dartmouth.
In the harbor, and commanding aU parts of it, is the strongly fortified
George's Island, while at the entrance, three miles below, is McNab's Island,
which effectually guards the passage from the sea. This is a brief and dry
description of the city. It would be just as easy to make a longer and more
gushing one, but when people are going to see a place for themselves they
don't take the bother to wade through a long account of metes, bounds and
salient angles. Halifax must be seen to be appreciated.

Halifax is a strong cuy in every way. It has great strength in a military
point of view ; it has so many solid men that it is a tower of strength finan-
cially; it is strongly British in its manners, customs and sympathies ; and it
has strong attractions for visitors. Let us analyze some of these points of
strength.

First, the military. There was a time when the military element was
necessarily the first to be considered. One of the first acts of the settlers
was. to fire a, sali.ie in honor of their ar. ival, and as soon as Governor Corn-
wallis had a roof to shelter his head, they placed a couple of cannon to
defend it and mounted a guard. They had need of military. Indians saw
in their arrival a probable " boom" in scalps, and every Indian in the neigh-
borhood sharpened his knife for the anticipated "hum." These Indians
were neither the devotional ones whom Cowper holds up for the imitation of
Sunday school scholars, nor yet the playful and docile ones who borrowed
tobacco from the late William Penn. They were Savages, as destitute of
pity and sentiment as they were of decent clothes. It was, therefore,
essential that the men of Halifax should be of a military turn of mind, and
every boy and man, from sixteen to sixty years of age, d'd duty in the ranks
of the militia. Later, the town became an important military and naval
station ; ships of the line made their rendezvous in the harbor and some of
England's bravest veterans were quartered in its barracks. Princes, dukes,
lords, admirals, generals, captains and colonels walked the streets from time
to time ; guns boomed, flags waved, drums beat and bugles sounded, so that
the pjide and panoply of war were ever before the people. And so they are
to-day. The uniform is seen on every street, and fortifications meet the eye
at every prominent point.

Chief among the fortifications is the Citadel, which crowns the city,
commenced by the Duke of Kent, and altered, varied and transposed until
it has become a model of military skill. Its history has been a peaceful one
and is likely to be. If it should be assailed it appears well able for a eiege.
The citizens, too, are truly loyal to the, crown ; and the people who expect
to hurrah when the British flag is lowered in submission to Provincial Home
Rulers or foreign foes will have a long while to wait. Visitors were once allowed
to inspect the works, but of late the regulations have been more stringent. If in
future they should be relaxed, the man who always follows Captain Cuttle's
advice to make a note of what he sees, is recommended to refrain from using
pencil and paper within the limits of any of the forts. It is bad taste ; and,
besides, the authorities will not permit it.

The seeker after a good view of the city and its surroundings may have
the very best from the Citadel. It commands land and water for many
miles. The Arm, the Basin, the harbor with its islands, the sea with its
ships, the distant hills and forests, the city with its busy streets — all are
present to the eye in a beautiful and varied panorama. Dartmouth, across
the harbor, is seen to fine advantage, while on the waters around the city

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are seen the ships of all the nations of the earth. No amount of elaborate
word-painting would do justice to the view on a fine summer's day. It must
be seen, and once seen it will not be forgotten.

The fortifications on McNab's and George's Islands, as well as the
various forts around the shore, are all worthy of a visit. After they have
been seen, the visitor will have no doubts as to the exceeding . trength of
Halifax above all the cities of America. The Dockyard, with splendid
examples of England's naval power, is also an exceedingly interesting place,
and always presents a picture of busy life in which the " oak-hearted tars"
are a prominent feature.

The financial strength of Halifax is apparent at a glance. It is a very
wealthy city, and as its people have never had a mania for speculation, the pro-
gress to wealth has been a sure one. The business men have always had a
splendid reputation for reliability and honorable dealing. The banks are safe,
though the people did business until comparatively recent times without
feehng that such institutions were necessary. A cash business and specie
payments suited their wants. At length several leading men started a bank.
They had no charter and were surrounded by no legislative enactments. No
one knew how much capital they had, or what amount of notes they had in
circulation. No one cared. They were " solid men," and that was enough ;
and so they went on for years — always having the confidence of the public
and alwa} s being as safe as anj'' bank in America. The chartered banks of
Halifax now do the work, but the solid men of Halifax are still to be found,
in business and out of it.

Halifax is the most British city on the continent. Long association
with the army and navy has accnmplished this. There are some Provincial
people who, after a six-months' sojourn in the United States, are very much
more American than the simon pure Yankee. This could not happen
in Halifax. They are, for once and for all, the faithful and liege subjects of
Her Majesty, her heirs and successors, and the fashion and tastes of the
people must be governed by the land beyond the sea. So the people have
all that is admirable in English business circles and polite society. That is
to say, they preserve their mercantile good names by integrity, and their
homes are the scenes of good old-fashioned English hospitahty. A stranger
who has the entree into the best society will be sure to carry away the most
kindly recollections of his visit. In no place will more studious efforts be
made to minister to the enjoyment of the guest — it matters not what his
nationahty may be.

The strong attractions for visitors are so numerous that a city guide
book is necessary to explain them in their proper order. The drives can be
varied according to the taste and the time of sojourn. To skirt the city one
may drive down the Point Pleasant road and up the North-west Arm. This
gives a fine view of the harbor and its objects of interest The Arm is a
beautiful place, and around it are many elegant private residences, the home-
of men of wealth and taste. This is one of the most pleasant parts of Hali-
fax. P>om the Arm one may drive out on the Prospect Road and around
Herring Cove. The view of the ocean had from the hills is of an enchanting
nature. Another drive is around Bedford Basin, coming home by the way
of Dartmouth ; or one may extend the journey to Waverly and Portobello
before starting for home, the drive being in all twenty-seven rniles. If one
has a fancy for bathing in the surf, he should go to where the sea rolls in
with a magnificent sweep, at Cow Bay. This beautiful place, which furnishes
another instance of the horribly literal nomenclature of the early settlers, is

ten miles from Halifax, on the Dartmouth side. The drive to it is through a
pretty piece of cou .try. All around Halifiix are bays, coves, islands and
lakes, any one of which is worthy of a visit, so that the tourist may see as
much or as little as he pleases. Excursions to McNab's Island, at the
mouth of the harbor, are also in order during the fine days of summer.

In the city itself, there is a great doal to be seen. It is expected that
strangers will visit the Fish Market, and it will be well to attend to this
before it forgotten. The people are proud of it — not the building, but its
contents — and the visit is a very interesting one to those who like to see
fish. The. of course, one must go to the Province Building, which Judge
Haliburton claimed to be " the best building and the handsomest edifice in
North America." Then comes the new Province Building, with its fine
museum, open to the public. After these come the churches, asylums and
all kinds of public institutions — some of which bear glowing tribute to the
charity and philanthropy of the people. Halifax has a large number of
charities in proportion to its size, and the results cannot fail to be good.
The Public Gardens belonging to the city will be found a most pleasant
retreat, with its trees and flowers, fountains, lakes and cool and shady walks.
Here one may enjoy the fragrance of nature in all its glory, while the eye is
feasted with nature's beauties.

One should have a sail on Bedford Basin, that fair expanse of water,
broad, deep, blue and beautiful. Here it is that yachts and boats of all
kinds are to be found taking advantage of so fair a cruising ground, spread-
ing their sails before the breezes which come in from the Atlantic. It was
on the shore of this Basin that the Duke of Kent had his residence, and the
remains of the music pavilion still stand on a height which overlooks the
water. The '* Prince's Lodge," as it is called, maybe visited during the land
drive to Bedford, but the place is sadly shorn of its former glory, and the
railway, that destroyer of all sentiment, runs directly through the grounds.
It was a famous place in its day, however, and the meniory of the Queen's
father will long continue to be held in honor by the Halifax people.

Halifax has communication with all parts of the world, by steamer and
sailing vessel. Hither come the ocean steamers with mails and passengers,
and numbers of others which make this a port of call on their way to and
from other places. A large trade is carried on with Europe, the United
States and the West Indies, and from here, also, one may visit the fair Ber-
mudas, or the rugged Newfoundland. Steamers arrive and depart at all
hours, and the harbor is never dull. One can go to Europe or any of the
leading places of America without delay — Liverpool, Glasgow, the West
Indies, New York, Boston, Portland, Newfoundland and Quebec — these are
some of the points with which direct communication is had by steamer.
The man who wants a sea voyage can take his choice. »

This port is also a deep water terminus of the Intercolonial Railway,
and has a grain elevator, built at the cost of $100,000, with a capacity of
150,000 bushels. Its cotton factory has a capacity of 10,000 spindles and
is called the finest in the Maritime Provinces. The Nova Scotia sugar
refiner}' cost haif a million dollars and it has a capacity of 2000 barrels a day.
There is another large refinery in Dartmouth, on the opposite side of the
harbor. Halifax has also a marine railway, but the most important of die
works around the harbor is the dry dock. This dock is not only one of the
great features of the place, but a work of which all Canada may be proud.

The harbor of Halifax is well termed one of the finest in the world.
The commercial interests of the city have always been most extensive, and

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shipping is always around its waters in craft of all kinds and of every nation
which has a foreign trade. This harbor is six miles long, with the average
width of a mile, and it is not only a capacious slieet of water but a very
beautiful one.

OUTSIDE OF HALIFAX.

The county of Halifax extends along the Atlantic coast nearly a hun-
dred miles and has a number of fine harbors. Its fisheries are seeond in
value only to the great fishing county of Lunenburg, and are valued at
nearly a million dollars a year.

The traveller may go east or west along the shore, according as his taste
may be for sport or for a mere pleasure trip. To the eastward is a some-
what wild country, on the shores of which fishing is extensively carried on, and
which has numerous arms of the sea which admirably suit the occupation of
its people. Back from the shore, the country abounds in heavy forests, and
is abundantly watered with lakes. This is the great country for moose and
caribou. They are found in all the eastern part of the country, and within
easy distance of the settlement. Here is the place for sportsmen — a hunter^s
paradise. It was down in this country, at Tangier, that the first discovery
of gold was made in Nova Scotia. The finder was a moose hunter, a cap-
tain in the army. Gold mining is still followed, and some of the leads have
given splendid results.

To the west of Halifax the great attraction is to take the Lunenburg
stage line and go to Mahone Bay. The drive is one of the most beautiful to
be found. For much of the way the road skirts a romantic sea shore, with
long smooth beaches of white sand, on which roll the clear waters of the
ocean. The ocean, grand in its immensity, lies berf'ore the traveller. Along
the shore are green forests, wherein are all the flora of the country, while at
times lofty cliffs rear their heads in majesty, crowned with verdure and glor-
ious to behold. One of these is Aspotagoen, with its perpendicular height
of five hundred feet, the first land sighted by the mariner as he approaches
the coast. All these beauties prepare the stranger for Chester, a most allur-
ing place for all who seek enjoyment. It is only 45 miles from Halifax, the
road to it is excellent, and the stages are models of speed and comfort. The
village has two hotels, and private board is also to be had, with all the com-
forts 9ne desires. The scenery of Chester is not to be described. It is
magnificent. Whether one ascends Webber's Hill and drinks in the glorious
views for mile upon mile, or roams or; ilic pure, silvery beach, or sails
among the hundreds of fairy islets in tiie bay, — all is of superb beauty.
No fairer spot can be chosen for boating, bathing and healthful pleasure of
all kinds than Mahone Bay and its beautiful surroundings.

The fishing of this part of Nova Scotia is, 10 a great extent, for sea
trout, which are found in the estuaries of all the rivers. Salmon is found
where the river is of goot. volume and the passage is not barred. Gold
River, at the head of Mahone Bay, has good salmon fishing in May and
June. In the other rivers to the westwr i the best time is in March and
April. The sea trout are found in the estuaries at all times during the sum-
mer. To the east of Halifax, ^ine sea trout are caught in Little Salmon
j<iver, seven niiles from Dartmouth, in the month of September, while
further down, both salmon and sta trout are caught from June to September,
in such streams as the Musquodoboit, Tangier, Sheet Harbor, Middle and
Big Salmon River. Besides this, it will be remembered that trout are found
in all of the many lakes.

Returning to Halifax, to bid it adieu, the visitor will have leisure to
examine the Intercolonial Depot, before the departure of the train. The

building is a fine specimen of architecture, — handsome in appearance, roomy,
comfortable, and in every way adapted to the wants of the travelling public.
It is so well fitted up, and so convenient, that the ordinary nuisance of
having to wait for a train is so thoroughly mitigated that it is converted into
a pleasure.

The trains of the Windsor & Annapolis Railway run from this depot,
and can be taken twice x day by those who wish to visit the fair Annapolis
Valley. The main line is left at Windsor Junction, and the traveller pre-
pares himself to see tht beauties of the "Garden of Nova Scotia."

Do not be in a Imrry ! The garden is not in sight yet — these rocks
and scraggy woods are not part of it — and it will be just as well not to look
out of the window fo) a while, until the land assumes a more cheerful aspect.
This will not bt long. The appearance of the country improves after a few
miles of travel and soon becomes Really attractive. Windsor is reached —
classic Windsor — and the broad Avon River i-- crossed by a splendidiron bridge.

No one can deny that Windsor is a pretty place, with its hills, meadows,
aipd the Basin of Minas within view. The Avon is a noble river at high
water — at low water its banks of mud are stupendous. It is the tide from
the Basin which gives the river its beauty, as it does nearly a score of other
rivers, great and small. Despite of the mud, Windsor has a peculiar charm
about its scenery, and well merits the name of one of Nova Scotia's beautiful
towns. Leaving Windsor, the road, ere long, enteis the country which
Longfellow has made famous. Since "Evangeline" was composed, no one
has ever written of this part of Nova Scotia, without quoting more or less of
the poem. It is considered the correct thing to do so ; but, for once, there
shall be an exception to the rule. The temptation is great, but is nobly
resisted. People know Evangeline, without having it done up to them in
fragments. Let the task be left to newspaper correspondents, and to the
noble army of those who have written " Lines on the death of Longfellow."

Grand Pre, as all know, means great meadows, and we have only to look
around to see how fitting is the name. The Acadians had about 2100 acres
of it when they had their home here, and there is more than that to-day. In
the distance is seen Blomidon, rising abruptly from the water, the end of the
North Mountain range. The Basin of Minas, which runs inland for sixty
miles, shines like a sheet of burnished silver in the summer sunshine. It is
a beautiful place which the sweet singer has made famous, and yet he lived
and died within two days' journey of it and never saw it. Do you know
why ? It was that he cherished a sweet ideal which he feared the reality
would mar. He need not have feared, for though he would have looked in
vain for the forest primeval, and might have found some of his statements
open to grave donbt, he could not have failed to admire the placid beauty of
the scene. It is not too much to say that the poem of " Evangeline " has done
more to make Nova Scotia famous than all the books which have ever been
written. The author could well have boasted, as Horace did, " £xegi monu-
mentum cere per ennius."

Few traces of the French village are to be found. It has vanished from
the earth, but the road taken by the exil<^, as they sadly made their way to
the King's ships, may still be tracefl by the sentimental tourist. Let such a
one not search too deeply into history, lest his ideas of the Acadians receive
-^ change, but let him be content with the poet's version, and feel that,

-*» " To their annals linked while time shall last,

, «' Two lovers from the shadowy realms are seen,

A fair, immortal picture of tke past,
! TTie forms of Gabriel and HVangeline."

Wolfville is another beautiful place, and beyond it is Kentville, where
the General Offices of the VV. & A. Railway are situated, and a point from
which Mahone Bay may be reached by stage across the country, Kent-
ville has many attractions for the lover of the beautiful as found in peaceful
landscape, and is well worthy of a visit. A little later the famed Annapolis
Valley is seen and traversed until Annapolis Royal is reached, at a distance
of 130 miles from Halifax.

ANNapoLis roYaL-

the ancient capital of Acadia, is the oldest European settlement in America,
north of the Gulf of Mexico. Hither came Champlain in 1604, four years
before he founded Quebec ; and soon after, the French colony was established
on this well chosen spot. It was then Port Royal, and it remained for the
English, a century later, to change the name to Annapolis, in honor of their
queen. Deeply interesting as its history is, it cannot be outlined here. It
is enough to say it has shared the fate of other Acadian strongholds and its
fort has become a ruin. To ascend the elevated ground and look, down
upon the broad river and on the hills and vales around, one sees much that
is beautiful to day ; and can well realize how Poutrincourt was charmed with
the vision that greeted his eyes when he and his comrades set foot upon this
shore. The early settlement was a few mile> ^'irther down the river than the
present town, but all we tread is historic ground. This fair river and goodly
land have been the scenes of many a fearful fray, and swift death has claimed
its victims on every hand. Now all is peaceful, beautiful. The " war drum
throbs no longer, and the battle flags are furled ; " the fort is the play-grouud
of the children, and the flocks of the farmers graze upon the earth-works
raised by man to resist his fellow-men.

The Annapolis Valley is famed for its fertility. It lies between the
North and South Mountain ranges ; and thus sheltered, with a soil unusually
rich, it has well earned the name of the G' len of Nova Scotia. For mile
after mile the railway runs past orchards white with apple blossoms or laden
with tempting fruit. The air is fragrant, and the eye never wearies of the
fair farjns and their fertile fields. One of the villages is called Paradise, and
the name does not seem misplaced. Farmers may here live, amid peace
and plenty, and toil little for a rich reward. It is a fine country — a
beauteous valley.

The whole coast, from Briar Island to Blomidon, a distance of 130
miles, is protected by the rocky barriers. The range rises at times to the
height of 600 feet, and effectually guards this part of Nova Scotia from the
cold north winds, and the chilling fogs which sometimes prevail in the Bay
of Fundy.

One can go from Annapolis direct to Boston, by steamer ; or he can
take the steamer across to St. John, a short and pleasant trip. On the way
he can stop at Digby, a fine watering-place, with the best of sea-bathing,
plenty of fruit, and much natural beauty.

PRINCE edWard isLaNd.

It is three score years since William Cobbett told the people of England
of " a rascally heap of sand, rock and swamp, called Prince Edward Island,
in the horrible Gulf of St. Lawrence." Cobbett was a smart man, in many-
ways, and the people of the Maritime Provinces are proud of the fact that
he was once a common soldier at St. John, and selected as his wife a girl

.^^tm-'S&iA . i

whom he found at a wash-tub on Fort Howe. An old chest of his, much
out of repair, and which would not bring fifty cents at auction, on its own
merits, is still preserved in that city, and its owners would not trade it for a
new Saratoga trunk of four times its size. Yet Cobbett was wrong in some
of his opinions, and he was very much astray in his estimate of the snug
little island that is now known as the Garden of the Gulf His visit must have
been made under very adverse circumstances, or else he was much in need
of a tablespoonful of anti-billious mixture, in a little water, three times a da^.

The only part of the indictment which has any semblance of truth, is,
that which refers to the sand. There is no swamp worth mentioning ; and,
as for rock, there is hardly enough of it on the whole island to build the
walls of a good sized cellar. But, it must !>.- admitied, there is sand, — and
plenty of it. Even what looks like an occasional stone, is only hardened
sand, which crumbles at the touch. But ;here is also plenty of good soil,
whicli is something more than sand. The man who expects to find a large
sized counterpart of Sable Island, or Nantucket, will be disappointed.
Prince Edward Island is one of the most fair and fertile areas in the Dominion
of Canada.

It has a history, too, unique in the annals of the English colonies in the
new world. The Indians called it Epayguit — anchored on the waves — and
when Champlain came he gave it the title of L' He St. Jean. It kept this
name, in the French or English form, for nearly two hundred years, but in
1800 it received its present designation, in honor of Edward, Duke of Kent,
the father of Queen Victoria. It may be well for the press of the United
States to remember that the duke did not own the island, and that there is
no authority for the use of the possessive case in connection with it.

When the island was ceded to England, in 1764, the government sent a
surveyor to find out what kind of a place it was. If he had taken the view
that Cobbett took later, a great deal of trouble would have been saved, for
the settlement would have been made in due time, in a natural way. As it
was, he gave such a good account of the soil and climate that the paternal
government decided to colonize it with the least possible delay. The Earl of
Egmont had a proposition by which he was to cut up high links, and be
monarch of all he surveyed. His happy thought was to establish a genuine
feudal system, in which he was to be Lord Paramount of the island. The
land was to be divided into baronies, held under him, every baron was to
have his castle, with men-at-arms, lords of manors, and all the paraphernalia
of the middle ages, adapted to the climate of America in the eighteenth cen-
tury. The government did not accept this extraordinary proposition, but it
did wliat was nearly as bad, and which led to all sorts of wrangling and
trouble for the next hundred years. It divided the island into blocks, which
it apportioned among some of the gentlemen who had real or supposed claims
on the favor of the crown. There were certain conditions annexed, as to
placing a certain number of settlers on each lot, but with an honorable excep-
tion, that was the end of the matter so far as the absentee landlords were
disposed to exert themselves. Thus it was that the land question was the
plague of the country until the island became a part of the Dominion, and
laws were passed for the appraisement and purchase of properties by tenants
who were tired of the old style of tenure.

From tip to tip of Prince Edward Island is about 130 miles, while the
width varies from two to more than thirty miles. In the two thousand and
odd square miles of country embraced in these varying widths the island has
more good land, ' ; proportion to its size, than any part of the Maritime

•-?"«./■

Provinces. It grows amazingly large potatoes and surprisingly heavy oatSi
while the farmers raise hundreds of the best of horses and thousands of the
fattest of sheep, every year of their lives. The eggs shipped away each
season are counted by the million. The people raise enough food to supply
all their own wants and have a^ much more to sell to outsiders. It is alto-
gether a flourishing country, and withal, fair to look upon, pleasant to dwell
in, and as cheap a place as one can find in a month's journey. There was a
time wlien it was even more cheaj) for strangers than it is now ; and it is a
positive fact that men have gone there, had a good time, and, while paying
for everything, found the expense amounting to nothing. The difference in
the currency did it. A man could buy up sovereign-^, "short quarters," etc.,
at their ordinary value in the other i)rovinccs, take them to the island, pass
them at their much higher local value, and make money by the operation.
Besides, every coin that was uncurrent anywhere else found a refuge here,
and, at times, almost any bit of metal which looked like a copper or a penny,
was current coin. The result was that the island had the most extraordinary
and heterogeneous currency to be found in America. This state of aflfairs
has improved of late years, but the island is still a place for a summer visit at
a very moderate expense.

The island is reached from the mainland, in summer, by taking the
steamer either at Point du Chene, N. B., or Pictou, N. S. It is a good plan
to go by one of these routes and return by the other. There is still another
route from Cape Tormentine to Cape Traverse, but the two first named
connect directly with Summerside and Charlottetown.

Leaving Point du Chene early in the afternoon, the run of forty miles or
so across the Strait of Northumberland is made in daylight, and is a most
enjoyable trip. Often, on a bright summer day, the water is as calm as that
of a placid lake. To the south is seen the New Brunswick shore, gradually
growing fainter as the shore of the island comes in view. As distant Cape
Tormentine dwindles to a faint line, with the smoke of a far-off steamer mark-
ing the passage between it and Cape Traverse, the bold outline of Cape
Egmont becomes clearer and clearer to the north. As the island shore is
approached, the red of the earth and the bright green of the verdure show
with most picturesque effect as a background to the smooth stre'eh of water,
in which is mirrored the glory of the sunlight from the western sky. Under
such conditions the first impressions of Prince Edward Island must always
be such as will long be remembered, wherever one may go.

Summerside is the landing place, by this route, and is prettily situated,
with much to commend it to the tourist. A beautiful little island, seen to
the right on entering the harbor, has been deemed a good site for a summer
hotel, while just beyond it is the mouth of the Dunk River, the best of the
tr;>ut streams. The town overlooks the waters of Bedeque Bay, and the
distance overland to Malpeque Bay, on the north shore, is but a few miles,
for this is one of the several places where but a narrow slip of soil separates
the waters of the Strait from those of the Gulf of St. Lawrence. It would
not be difficult to separate the various peninsulas and make four islands
where nature has placed only one, and thus rival Cape Breton as a much cut
up country. There is no need for it. The people are not greedy, and one
island is quite enough for them and their posterity.

From a hill in the rear of Summerside is a glorious prospect of the
country and of the waters to the north and south. Lof^'jing one way,
Bedeque Bay is seen, with all its attractive surroundings, while beyond it lies
Northumberland Strait, with the coast line of New Brunswick in the distance.

In the other direction is Malpeque Bay, and beyond it the Atlantic, while
the irregular line of .shore and the islands that dot the M-ater make a fitting
foreground for a truly entrancing picture.

Malpeque Bay is well worthy of more than a brief visit. It is a large
and beautiful sheet of water, and it is in this vicinity that sonie of the most
famous oysters are found. Oysters have had no small share in giving Prince
Edward Island its fame and they are not only of excellent quality but are
very abundant. Indeed, it was once the custom to dig them and burn them
in vast heaps, simply for the sake of the lime their shells would produce. The
prevalence of this practice was checked only when a law was passed to pre-
vent such wholesale destruction of this important source of wealth.

Charlottetown is the capital and leading commercial city ot the province.
Here are situated the General Offices of the Prince Edward Isbnd Railway,
a part of the system of Canadian Government Railways. Th's road is a
narrow gauge, and was not built as an illustration of the fact that a straight
line is the shortest distance between two given points. It is, on the contrary a
veiy crooked road, but it serves the useful purpose of giving easy access to
every part ol the island. Nearly everybody who has a piece of land of any
considerable size has the railway close to his property. By this arrangement
the majority of the islanders are more than satisfied, and the traveller is
afforded every opportunity to see what the country is like.

It is rela<^"d that the main avenue of ancient Ninevah was of a width to
allow two hundred chariots to ride abreast. The streets of Charlottetov. i
are of lesser magnitude, but they are wide enough for all possible purposes,
and transverse sections of them, if in some parts of the Province of Quebec,
would be considered good sized farm fronts. • The city has several fine
public buildings, and a market which is one of the chief sources of the
citizens' pride. Close to the latter building and the post office is one of the
most tasteful public squares to be found in th.- Dominion. It is not large,
but its flowers, fountains and oiher attractions are arranged so as to produce
a most pleasing effcet. The electric light and the presence of a band of
music make it the great resort of the people during the summer evenings.

Charlottetown is finely situated for those in search of recreation either
on land or water. The harbor, with its various arms, and Hillsborough Bay
with its inlets give good opportunities for boating and bathing, while there
are many places worth seeing within a trifling distance from the city. A
favorite resort is at Kepoth, across the harbor, from the high land of which
is a fine view, while no one is likely to be other than pleased after trips made
to Governor's and St. Peter's Islands, Low«:her and Squaw Points, Cherry
Valley, Pennarth, and East, We.st and Nr i.. Rivers. The rivers have gooc
trout, and fine sea-trout fishing is also to be hivd off the mouth of the harbor.
All kinds of white fowl are lound along the shores, and woodcock and plover
are abundant in their sea -on.

Rustico Beach is o.ie of the most popular of the sunnmer .csorts for
which the Island is noted, and is an ea,>y drive from Clmrlottetown. Fine
bathing, shooting and fishing may be had, as indeed, may be said of nearly
all the places on the Island shores.

Tracadie, fourteen miles from Charlottetown, is an excellent place, both
for sportsman and pleasure seekers. All kinds of sea-fowl, and excellent
trout fishing may be had. Five miles :rom this is Savage Harbor, and six
miles further is St. Peter's — both good for shooting and fishii'g.

In the journey over the Island, one thing that impresses the stranger
very favorably is the universal neatness which marks the farms and the

uce
of

hich
nade
lerry

;,ooc
rbor.

over

both
;ellent
id six

houses. The farmers are all of a well to do class, and r.iany of them are
wealthy. In the fields are seen hundreds of acres rich with growing crops,
V. hile the abundant pastures furnish the food of the horses and sheep which
have a fame wherever the name of Prince Edward Island is known. The
scenery, though not striking in comparison with that of some parts of the
Intercolonial is always attractive and often beautiful. The absence of rocks
and mountains is not felt in the pleasure derived from the contemplation of
more pastoral scenes, while the gently undulating surface of the land permits
most enjoyable journeys over well made, dry and level roads.

Speaking generally, the accommodation of most of the hotels is limited,
though some of the houses are very well kept. The stranger will never be
at a loss, however, as board can usually be obtained at th^ aouses of the
tidy English and Scotch farmers, who take a pride in supplying everything
that the .oimtry can furnish. The terias are very reasonable, and even at
the hotels, outside of the cities, a dollar bill will cover the cost of a large
amount of comfort.

What is called the " beauty spot" of the Island is at and in the vicinity
of Souris. Here, all the pleasures of the seaside may be enjoyed to the full,
and excursions, limited in numoer only by the time at the visitors* disposal,
may be made to all parts of the adjacent shore. Georgetown, a stirring place
with an especially good harbor, has also many attractions in its immediate
vicinity. The whole coast, in fact, abounds with facilities for summer outing.

The western end of the Island is the place for the sportsman. Plover,
geese, brant and duck of all kinds are found along the coast, and Cascura-
peque Harbor, close to Alberton, is a famous place for them. The woods
every wher abcfend with partridge, and there is plenty of fishing in the
streams. More attractive still to many is the fact that successful line fishing,
chiefly for cod and mackerel, may be enjoyed on all parts of the Tignish
shore during the summer months.

Fine sea trout are found in Huntley River, while good brook trout are
numerous in the Big and Little Tignish. Some of the finest, weighing two
and three pounds each, are caught in Milk River. Other localities in which
the fisherman is likely to have luck are at Conroy's Ponds and Big and
Little Miminegash, on the west shore. A circuit of six miles from Alberton
will include many good fishing streams. By going a trifle further, splendid
trout will be found in all the inlets of Egmont Bay.

The ordinary tourist will also find much to make life enjoyable in this
end of the Island. Some of the beaches are all that one could wish for surf
bathing, and as at Alberton, for instance, they are very easy of access.

Taking the Island as a whole, it is a pleasant land, with pure air and a
most invigorating climate. It should be included in the tour of every visitor
to the Provinces by the Sea.

MoNcToN TO ST- JOHN.

A journey of a little more than three hours is requii-ed to take one
from Moncton to the commercial capital of New Brunswick. The greater
portion of the distance is through a well settled country, attractive in
appearance, but devoid of anything striking in the way of scenery.

The first station of note is Salisbury, where connection is made with
the Albert railway, which runs to the village of Albert, a distance of 45
miles. The first part of this distance is through a monotonous wilder-
ness, but when Hillsboro is reached, with the Peticodiac River flowing by
the broad marshes, the beauties of the country are better appreciated.

100

The celebrated Albert mines were near this place, but they are now aban-
doned, and no other large deposit of the peculiar "Albertite Coal" has
yet been found. The quarryiag and manufacturing of plaster is, however,
still an important industry. As the road nears Hopewell, the country is
a fine one, with its mountains in the distance and vast marshes reaching
to the shores of Shepody Bay. There are few places where u short time
can be better enjoyed in a quiet way than in the vicinity of Albert, It
is a rich farming countr-^ and fair to look upon. Large crops are raised
and some of the finest beef cattle to be found come from Hopewell and
Harvey.

Continuing on the main line, the next station reached is Peticodiac,
a stirring village, from which a branch railway runs to Elgin and Have-
lock. From Peticodiac until Sussex is reached the various villages make
a fine appearance and give one an excellent impression of New Bruns-
wick as a farming country,

SUSSEX.

is one of tho places which is rapidly increasing in size and importance,
and has the promise of as fair a future as any village in the Lower Pro-
vinces, It is situated in the beautiful Valley of the Kennebeccasis, and
has some of the most famous of the New Brunswick farms. Nature has
made all this part of the country surpassingly fair to look upon ; and it is
just as good as it looks. The earth yields abundantly of all kinds of crops,
and the dairy products have a most enviable fame. Besides this, the
people have push and enterprise and are making rapid strides in all
branches of industry.

Some fair trout fishing is to be found in this part of the country. To
the east and south are Walton, Grassy, Theobald, Bear, White Pine, Echo,
Chisholm and other lakes, all within eighteen miles of the village. Eight
pound trout have been caught in Chisholm Lake, though fish of that size
are the exception. In Theobald Lake one man has taken ninety trout,
averaging a pound each, in two days.

The visitor who is interested in mining should visit the manganese
mines, ten miles from the village; and if he should like to see how the
best of table salt is obtained, his curiosity may be satisfied by going to
the Salt Springs, four miles away. As for views, the best to be had is
from Blanch's Hill, which overlooks the village and a large portion of the
surrounding country.

Geologists tell us that these hills and bold heights seen in the vici-
nity of Sussex are the effect of a terrific current which once flowed
through the valley, when all the country was submerged by a mighty
flood. It is thought that this was once part of the valley < I the St, .John
Eiver, but when that " once" is something as uncertain as the authorship
of Ossian's poems. It was a long while ago, at any rate.

From Sussex to St, John, a distance of 44 miles, the country along
the line is well settled, and abounds in beautiful villages, Hampton, the
shire-town of Kings County, is in great repute as a summer resort for the
people of Si. John, a number of whom have fine private residences here.
From this point the St, Martins & Upbam Railway runs across the coun-
try to the flourishing village of St, Martins, on the Bay Shore, Hamp-
ton is a very pleasant place, and like Sussex, is making rapid advances
year by year, Rothesay, nine miles from the city, has some handsome
villas, the residences of St, John business men and others, who find all
the pleasures of rural life within less than a half-an-hour's distance of

TOI

P-
es

■ne

their offices and counting-rooms. The ornamental trees and carefully ar-
ranged grounds have u very pleasing effect. The Kennebeccasis River
flowi close by the track for a distance of several miles, the hills rising on
the distant shore in picturesque beauty. As Riverside is reached, one of
the finest race-courses on the continent is seen. Here is the scene cf some
famous aquatic contests by such oarsmen as Hanl:,Ti, Ross, and others of
lesser note. It was here on a beautiful autumn morning, years ago, that
the i-enowned Paris and Tyne crews struggled for victory. It was nearly
opposite yonder wharf that a man of the English four was seen by the
excited thousands to fall from his seat, and as the Paris crew shot ahead
what a cheer echoed from that vast crowd of human beings ! Yet, how
quiet was all a few minutes later when from the shore beside the wharf
the Champion of EngUmd, Jame.s Renforth, was carried up the hill to die !
It was a strange, sad scene — the most menioi-able in the annals of this
noted spot.

ST. JOHN.

St. John has a history which extends back to the days when the land
was Acadia and the banner of France waved fi-om the forts of the harbor
and river. The story of La Tour and his heroic wife is one of the most
interesting in the annals of the colonies. Such a tale — a romance — de-
serves a better fate than to be presented in a mutilated form ; the space
at command in these pages would fail to do the narrative Justice.

Apart from its Acadian annals, the history of St. John has little
to interest the stranger. The city has no extensive fortifications, no
memorable battle fields, nothing ancient or quaint to fascinate the anti-
quarian. It is a modern city. Even the best part of ins old buildings
have been swept away by fire, and new and substantial edifice.s line the
great majority of the streets. , St. John is to be seen for what it is — not
for what it has been.

The city has had two great epochs in its history. The first of these
was the landing of the Loyallists, on the 18th of May, 1783, and the
second was " The Great Fire," on the 20th of June, 1817. In the one in-
stance, some patient and persevering settlers began to build a city on a
rock ; in the other the result of nearly a century of labor w&a blotte*! out
of existence in less than a clay. The fire swept over two uundred acres
of the business district, destroyed more than 1,600 houses, occupying

figures all the way

loss which has been estimated at

from twenty to thirty million dollars. The destruc-
tion was swift and complete. It is not strange that many of the people

nine miles cf street, and caused a

. '^t

felt pretty well discoui'aged, and that for .*everal years the phrase " since
the Fire" (always with a capital "F") was the phrase proper to be used
on all occasions when life seemed scarce worth living. It is true the wat-
ering cart was not seen less frequently in dusty weather thai in days of
old, nor were the winters less favorable for lumbering than they had
been, but a good many people appeared to think that the palmy days had
vanished, never to return again.

They were mistaken, and it took but a few years for them to learn
that St. John was again on the high road to prosjterity. Very little is
heard of the fire now-a-days. The newspapers refer to it occasionally, as
& matter of duty, and guide books have to mention it, as a matter of his-
tory. The stranger, however, may now visit the stores, public institu-
tions, places of amusements and churches, with a reasonable certainty that
he will not hear all about the big blaze and its effects, unless his own in-

xoa

quisitive nature provokes the citizen to be luridly reminiscent. On all
ordinary occaeions, the (Irea^ Fire h a back number.

There is ^ood reason for this. St. John is holding its own among
the cities of Canada, and its growth is a healthy one. It is a terminus of
the Intercolonial, Canadian ]?acific, and Shore Line Railways, and its
varied industries are giving it a wealth and importance of which it scarce-
ly dreamed in former years. By the addition of Portland, it has become
the fourth city of the Dominion, as regards population, and, thanks to
the many buildings of modern style, it is a good looking city as well.
Fine specimens of architecture are seen in the Intercolonial depot, the
Custom House, Post Oflfice, churches, and numerous other buildings, pub-
lic and private. The wido, straight streets cross each other at right
angles, and the location of the city is admirable in every respect.

Strangers, of whom increasing numbers visit St. John eveiy year, have
a choice of several attractive drives. One of those is on the Marsh road,
visiting the beautiful rural cemetery on the way. This city of tombs is
situated most admirably for its purpose and none can fail to be struck
with the quiet bes'uty which is everywhere seen throughout its shady
walks. Another, and very attractive drive is over the Suspension Bvidge.
The Eiver St. John takes its rise in the State of Maine and flows over 450
miles until it is emptied in the harbor on the Bay of Fundy. It, with its
ti-ibutaries, drains two million acres in Quebec, six millions in Maine,
and nine millions in New Brunswick. Yet this great body of water is all
emptied into the sea through a rocky chasm a little over 500 feet wide.
Here a fall is formed. It is a peculiar fall. At high tide the sea has a
descent of fifteen feet into the river, and at low tide the river has a like
fall into the sea. It is only at half-tide, or slack water, that this part of
the river may be navigatod in safety. At other times a wild tumult of
the waters meets the eye. Aci-oss this chasm is stretched the Suspension
Bridge, seventy feet above the highest tide, and with a span of 640 feet.
This structure was projeeted und built by the energy of one man, the late
William K. Reynolds. Few besides the projector had any faith in the
undertaking, and he, therefore, assumed the , hole financial and other
responsibility, not a dollar being paid b}'- the shareholders until the
bridge was opened to the public. In 1875 the bridge was purchased
fi'om the shareholders by the Provincial (rovernment and is now a free
highway.

A short distance above the Suspension Bridge is the splendid Canti-
lever Bridge which gives the Intercolonial connection with the Canadian
Pacific Railway aucl the vast system of the Dominion and the United
S'^ates. Until 18S5 travellers to and from Western New Brunswick and
the New England States were obliged to cross the haibor by ferry and
be driven across the city in order to make connection. In October of
that year the bvidge was opened for traffic, and the former gap of two
miles between the two railways was forever closed. The bridge is a
beautiful and most substantial structure. High above the rushing waters
its graceful outlines, seen from a distance, convey no idea of its wondeiful
solidity and strength. Solid and strong it is, however. All the resources
of modern engineering have been utilized in its construction, and its
foundations are upon the solid rock. The main span is 447 feet in length.
The bridge is not only a boon as i-egards the convenience of the travel-
ling public, but has a most important bearing in a commercial sense. It
gives direct communication between the Pacific Ocean, the United States

103

and the Lower Provinces, and in the facilities which it affords for through
shipment is giving a new stimuhis to many important industries.

Near the bridges, on the west side of the river, is the Provincial
Lunatic Asylum ; a little further, after passing Fairville, is that famous
drive, the Manawagonish (Maogenes) Road, a splendid highway, in full
view of the Bay of Fundy, with the line of the Nova Scotia coast visible
forty miles awiiy. This is one of the most pleasant drives to be had
around St. John, Eetui'ning, Carleton, which lies across the harbor, may
be visited, and one may see the ruins of Fort La Tour. As a matter of
fact, there is not much to be seen, save a small piece of grassy slope, a
part of somebody's back yard, which is said to be the fiice of a bastion.
Houses are built on the historic ground, and they are not by any means
imposing in their character; slabs and sawdust are numerous, and the
the air is at times pervaded with a decidedly plain odor of fish. Such is
Fort La Tour to-day ; such is the place where lived and died that famous
Acadian heroine, the wife of Charles La Tour.

In the vicinity of Carleton, or West End, as it is called in municipal
parlance, is the Bay Shore, which has excellent facilities for sea bathing.
So far, however, the absence of bath houses for the public has prevented
many from availing themselves of its privileges.

Driving through the North End, formerly the city of Portland, the
stianger may ascend Fort Howe, have a view of the harbor and city, and
then proceed to the banks of the broad and beautiful Kennebecasis. Or
one may go by the way of the Marsh Bridge to Loch Lomond, a fiamous
place for pleasure parties, where fishing, sailing, etc., may bo enjoyed to
perfection. Should a shorter and still pleasant drive bo desired, one may
ascend Mount Pleasant, have another magnificent view of the city and
vicinity, and proceed to Lily Lake. In fact, it were tedious to enumerate
all the pleasant ])lacea which may be visited by those having a team at
their disposal for a few hours of a summer day.

The harbor of St. John is one of its great features. Deep and capa-
cious, its swift cnrrcnts and high tide render it free from ice during the
most severe seasons. Ships of any size can lie safely at its M'harves or
anchor in the stream, well sheltered from the storms which rage without.
At the entrance is Partridge Island, a light, signal and quarantine sta-
tion; with this once properly fortified, and guns placed on the opposite
shoi'e of ttie mainland, no hostile fleetcould hope to gain the harbor with-
out a desperate struggle. The harbor proper bounds the city on the west
and south; to the east is Courtenay Bay, which becomes a plain of mud
when the tide is out. Some fine vessels have been built on this bay, and
it has excellent weir fisheries. The fisheries of this and other parts of
the harbor are prosecuted with gor)d success and give employment to
a large number of men. It is from these fishermen that such oarsmen as
the Paris crew, Ross, Brayley and others have risen to be famous.

St. John is essentially a maritime city. ItH wharves are always in
demand for shipping, and vast quantities of lumber, etc., are annually
expoi'ted to other countries. It is indeed the fcurth among the shipping
ports of the world, and St. John ships are found in every pai-t of the seas
of both hemispheres. Before the introduction of steam, its clipper ships,
such as the swift " Marco Polo," had a fame second to none, and voyages
were made of which the tales are proudly told even unto this day.

St. John has gootl hotel accommodiition, and the leading houses set
tables of which no traveller can complain. What hag been and still is

104

wanted is a large hotel, built and equipped in the most approved modei-n
style. Several schemes have been broached, but the latest is that which
proposes an enlargement of the Dutt'erin, so that at least 250 guests can
be accommodated without crowding durrng the height of summer travel.
The people of St. John have a groat deal of oft-hand frankness and
cordiality, in welcoming straui^ors to their midst. Th y like to see visit-
ors. Years ago, when there was no railway to Bangor, and but two trips
a week were made by the steamer to Boston, the arrival and departure of
the " Yankee Boat" were events of great local interest. About noon on
the days the boat was expected, people began to enquii-e at the express
office to learn the hour of her arrival at Eastport. So soon as the expected

INTERCOLONIAL RAILWAY STATION, ST. JOHN. .

telegram came, the agent, in order to have time to attend to his business,
put out a large sign, announcing the hour the steamer would reach St.
John. Men read the words, glanced at their watches, and regulated their
business so as to be on hand at the proper time. Ladies hurried their
shopping so as not to be late on the great occasion. Everyone looked'
pleased. Shortly before the hour named, lai-ge numbers would gather
round Reed's Point, and secure the most eligible places for the show. At
length the long, loud whii^tle would be heard upon the harbor, and at the
sound coaches, express wagons and private teams all came tearing down
town, while on the sidewalks men, women and children hastened with
joyful feet to the scene of action. The ceremony over, the people quietly

mmmi

105

dispersed, and strangors who had seen the orowd on the wharf, and saw
what they 8U))po8od to bo other crowds walking the streets, were m(Ht
favourably impressed with the life so apparent among the peoplo. The
times have changed in this respect since the increase of steamboat and
railway lines, and the advent of baseball leagues.

Tne ascent of the river to Fredericton is a very enjoyable trip.
Steamers also cross the Bay to Blgby and Annapolis ; and three regular
trips a week are made by the International Line to Eastport, Portland
and Boston. The Canadian Pacific railway runs daily trains to Frederic-
ton and Vanceboro', connecting at the latter place with New England
Railways for Bangor, Portland, Boston and all parts of the United States.
The main line, b^- way of Montreal, connects the shores of the Atlantic
with those of the Pacitic. The Shore Line Railway, which now connects
St. John with the border town of St. Stephen, is to be continued through
Maine, thus giving an additional medium of communication with the
cities to the south. Along this line is some good fishing, while excellent
duck and goose shooting may be had near Lopreau, an hour's journey or
so from St. John.

It will thus be seen that St. John is easily reached from all \)arts of the
continent. It is one of the gates that open into the fair land of the Mari-
tin^e provinces, and with excellent Tiotels, a bracing climate and a genial
people, it is a gate within which the stranger will delight to tarry.

ROD* AND RIFLE.

Along the Lower St. Lawrence, in the Metapedia Valley, and down
the north shore of New Brunswick, as iar asMiramichi, salmon are found
in all the important rivers. In Quebec, the regulations allow of fly tisli-
ing in lakes and non-navigable rivers, from the 1st of February to the 15th
of August. Non-residents are required to procure a license from the com-
missioner. The season for speckled trout is from January 1st to September
30th, while that for large grey trout begins a month earlier and lasts a fort-
night longer.

In New Brunswick the close season for salmon is from the 15th of
August to the 1st of February.

In Nova Scotia, the best salmon rivers are on the Atlantic, or south
coast, and have been referred to in the preceding pages. Salmon cannot
be fished for between the 15th of August and the 1st of February. None
of the rivers of Nova Scotia are leased.

Trout are abundant in all the lakes, rivers and estuaries along the
line of railway, and the fishing is a free one. The close seasons are:
In Quebec, from October 1st to December 31st ; in New Brunswick, from
September 15th to May 1st; in Nova Scotia, from October 1st to April 1st;
in P. E. Island, from October Ist to December 1st. The sea trout found in
the estuaries are tine fish, and though abundant in very man}^ places, they
are found in their perfection in the Tabusintac and Escuminac. They are
greedy biters, and it is said, will take almost any kind of fly. The arms
of the sea and numerous estuaries on the Atlantic coast of Nova Scotia
are particularly good places for these fish, which find their feeding
grounds among the sand flats and bars and among the beds of seaweed in
shoal water. June and July are the best months to seek them, though
they may be found at all seasons. They are a very gamy fish, handsome,
in appearance, and excellent eating.

io6

lilll:!

The brook trout, though very like the sea trout, is admitted to be a
different tish. It is found in its excellence in lakeM which have an outlet
in the sea, and is a very beautiful creature. The best tishing begins about
the middle of May ; but good sport is had all through the season, except
pei'haps during the hottest part of the summer, when the fish are a little
dull. So soon ns a few cool nights lower the temperature of the water,
the fish are again aiort, and continue so until the ice forms. In seeking
for the best flavored trout avoid muddy and swampy lakes, and choose
those with good bottom and clear watei-.

As to flies, it is difficult to give much advice. Some have been named
from time to time in the preceding pages, but no attempt has been matle
to give full information on this point. " Doctors differ," in regard to the
best flies for the best ])lace8, and a fiy which some claim to bo the best in
use for certain rivers, is pronounced worthless by
other equally good authorities. The sportsmen
should always carry a good assortment, and ho will
seldom fail to find out what is wanted in a particu-
lar water in which he fishes. Captain Ilardy, a
good authority, recommends a particular fly lor the
Nepisiguit — " a dark fly, body of black mohair,
ribbed with fine gold thread, black hackle, very
dark mallard wing, a narrow tip of orange silk, and
a very small feather from the crest of a golden
pheasant for a tail." The variety of flies is largo;
and instances are not rare where a fly hastily ex-
temporized from the first materials to be had has
proved to be most killing in its efl'ects. All fisher-
men know that there is a great deal in " luck."

The Lower Provinces aiford the best oppor-
tunities for moose and caribou hunting. The ,
country lying back of the rivers on the north- r
east shore of New Brunswick, and the forests of '
Cumberland, Colchester, Halifax and (Juysboro,
in Nova Scotia, will give all the sport desired.

In Nova Scotia the close season for moose and
caribou is from the 1st of February to the 15th ot'
September. No one person is allowed to take more
than two moose and four caribou in any one year
or season. The flesh is to bo carried out of the
woods within ten days after killing, and game
killed during the latter part of January shall be
carried out during the first five days of February.
The penalty- for the violation of these provisions
is from $30 to $50, and a fine of $25 is imposed for
hunting with dogs. The close season for partridge
is between tho 1st of .January and the 15th of

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107

Septembei", and that of woodcock, wnipe, and teal, between the l«t
of March and the 20th of August. Woodcock must not bo killed
before wunrino or alter sunHOt. Blue-winged duck must not be taken
befc»i'e the rirat days of April and Augunt, The annual licenses tor non-
ronidentH expire on the firnt of August. They cost $30 each, but in the
case of offlcerH of Her Mrtje«t3''8 service the charge is only S5 each.

In New Brunswick t\ie clos«» season for moose, cariljou, and deer, is
from the 15th of February to the 31st of August. The taking of cow
moose, at any time, is forbidden, under penalty of a fine of from 8200 to
$500. It is not lawful A>r any person to kill more than one moose, two
caribou, or three doer, in any one yeai-. The close season for partridge is
fi'ora the 1st of December to the 20th of September; for wotxlcock and
snipe to the 1st of September. Non-residents are recjuired to take out a
license, the cost of which is $20. The fee lor otficoi's of Her Majesty's
service is |5.

The close season for moose and deer in Quebec is from the Ist of Feb-
ruary to the 1st of September, and that for deer from the Ist of January
to the 1st of October. For woodcock, snipe, and partridge, it is from the
1st of February to the 1st of September, and for wild duck from the Ist
of May to the 1st of September. Non-iosidents are required to takeout
a hunting license, the cost of which iiN $20, and the penalty for the non-
compliance is double the amount of the fee.

The foregoing are some of the features of the Game Laws of the throe
provinces. There are other provisions, in regard to trapping, using nets
for wild fowl, hunting with artificial lights, etc., but as no sportsman will
resort to such practices, these need not bo quoted.

POSTAL INFORMATION.

LETTER RATES, ETC.

Canada.— Lett vrn postetl in Cjinadii, addressed to Hiiy place within the Do-
minion, 3 cents per oz. If unpaid, such letters eannot be forwarded, hut will l)e sent
to the Dead Letter Ofhee. If insuftieientlv prepaid, tlie letter will (jirovideci at least
a partial prepayment is inadei he forwarded to its destination an<l double the defi-
ciency charged on delivery. Letters mailed at any oftice for delivery at or from the
same office, provided that the office is not one at which free delivi-ry by letter car-
riers is establislied, are char^ied I cent per o/., and must be at least partially prepaid,
otherwise they are sent to the Dead Letter Othce. All postajje must be prepaid
by Postage Stamj)S. Letters of this nature mailed at, and for delivery from an otlice,
at which there is a free delivery by letter carriers, are liable to 2 cents \)vv o\mce.

Post Cards. -From any f)laVe "in Canada to any other place in Canada, ur to the
United States, 1 cent each. British and Foreign. 2 cents each.

rnitfd Kingdom.— Vor^tn^e on Letters, ."> cents per h oz.. whether by Canadian
or New York Steamers. If sent unpaid, doulile i)08tage will be charjjed.

Xeirfoundland.—AW classes of matter, same rates and regulations as to United
Kingdom.

/A'/'Htttc^a.— Letters, 5 cts. per k oz. Newspapers and printed matter generally,
1 cent per 2 oz.

United ."jYo^',"*.— The rate on letters to the United States is the same as in
Canachi, and at least oiu* •'at* must be prepaid.

REGISTRATION OF LETTERS.

Persons posting letters containing value, should be careful to require them ta
be Kegistered, and to obtain from the Postmaster a certilicate of receijit for
Registration.

io8

Tlu> clwirKc for Ref<lntriition (ump RegiHtration Stamp), in addition to thePoHtago,
In, on »ill ciiiHHi'M of niatf«>r, five conts.

Both tliu PoKtuge cliHi-gH und KugiHtratlun fee Hhould, in all uaneH, be prepaid by
fltaini).

Rpgisterod I/cf tor Stumps havci l)opn iHSued of the denomination of i^centn, which
may l)e ol)tuin('(i ut 'iny Stamp Agency.

IlegiHtnition StanipH ciinnot l>c UHcd in payment of ])OHtage.

RcK'iHtraMDii in not an ulmolutf guarantee againnt I lie miscarriage or 1o«m of a
liCtter; hut a Ilegistereii Letter can Iw traced where an I'nregistered Letter cannot,
and tlie posting and delivery or non-delivery can he proven.

BOOK POST, ETC

A Book Paclvct may contain any number of sejjarate Iwoics. Lindt of weiglit for
dom««tic i»ost, f) li>s. ; for foreign post I il)s. I-indl of size, two feet in lengtli, or ono
foot in widtli or deptli.

Hool< Paclvets must l)e open at both entia or both aides, nnd must not contain
nny I«tter or sealed inclosure.

The rate on IJook I'ackets l)etween any two piaceH In Canada is 1 cent per 4 oz.,

•which must l>e [irepaid hv stampH
The rate to (Jreat Britain

and tlje United States is 1 cent per 2 oz.

TRANSIENT NEWSPAPERS.

Transient newspapers and periodicals include all newspapers and periodicals

?tosted in ('anada. orhi >• tlmn ('ii»ni(o nnispaprrs .tint frnut f/tf ojficf "/" puhlicd-
ion, (tn<J /irifiih niic'^/jiifjirn jtostrd It// ueirs agents for regular stifmcribfra in
Canada. When addressi-d to any place within the Dominion, or the United States,
tliey must 1k' i)repaid the following rates l)y Postage Stamp: —
If weigliing less than 1 oz., lialf a cent each.

If w«'ighing over 1 oz., one cent |)er four oz. or fraction of f«)ur oz.

On transient newspapers addressed to tlie United Kingdom tl>e rate will l)e one

cent per 2 oz.— to t)e prei)aid l)y Postage Stamp. Canae'a newspapers poMted frotn

till- offire of piddicatinn to Mul>scril)er.s in the United Kingdom- if to l)e sent iii the

Mails forwarded viit New York, must l)e prejjaid bv I'ostage Stamp at tlie transient

paper rate of one cent j)ei' 2 oz. ; hut if sent l)y Canada I'acket, such papers may

paHS, as now on prepayment by the publisher, at tlie rate of one cent per pound. All

newspapers ami periodicals prenaid at the luiik rate of 1 cent per lb., must iie

.stainp'''l " Prei)ai(l bv Pul)lisher,' at th»' Post. OtHce, where the newspai)er or i)eriod-

ical is mailed. The ftnglish Post OiHce reipiires nwh iu'iriipa])er or ptriodivnl to be

stamped. If sent in packages the Knglish Post OtHce declines to accept them.

Intercolonial Railway.

LIST OF HOTEI.S.

HALIFAX.
Name of. Hotbl. Propribtor.

Halifax H. Hesselin & Sons .

Queen Atlantic Hotel Co. . .

Waverley House Mrs. Romans

Royal Miss A. Windsor. ...

Acadian George Nichols

No. Guests.

350

200

Carleton House Mrs. Margeson 40

BEDFORD.

Bedford J. C Morrison 50

JBellevue William Wilson 46

109

Name or Hotel. PBorRivroR. No. Own.

• TRURO.

Prince of Wales A. L. Mckenzie 60

Parlcer House Mrs. Bchnxler 55

Victoria N. A. Ross 40

Railway , .... A. H. Murphy 35

I^mruient A. H. Learment •••• 30

Grand Central A. Carter 30

PICTOU.

Revere C. L. Rood 50

Woldon House George Cieldert 20

Central D. P. Adamson 15

NEW GLASGOW,

Windsor Mrs. C. Mckenzie 60

Norfolk H. Murray 50

Vendome Thomas Beech 30

RIVER JOHN.

Riverside James Gammon . .

Acadia House Mrs. Sinitt)

TATAMAGOUCHE.

Sterling T. McLellan 40

WALLACE.

Wallace Mrs. Munroe 25

Hillside E. Edgett 20

PUGWASH.

Central E. D. Woodlock 35

Acadia Mrs. Wm. Chapman 20

American House W. H. Brown 20

Temperance House J. G. Smith 10

OXFORD.

Oxford N. S. Thompson 50

Eureka House Patrick Woodlock 30

Waverley House Mrs. Wm. Moore 20

PARRSBORO.

Grand Central C. E. Day 60

Queens D. McNamara 35

Minas M. Gavin 25

Kelse House (Partridge Island )J. T. Tipping 20

Cumberland House A. B. White 15

AMHERST.

Amherst George McFarlane 75

Lamy W. B. Ganong 60

Terrace Geo. D. Fuchs 40

SACKVILLE.

Brunswick G. B. Eastabrooks & Son 75

Intercolonial Arthur W. Dixon 50

Temj)erance House Mrs. R. K. Patterson " 40

DORCHESTER.

Dorchester House George F. Wallace ; . . 100

POINT DU CHENE.

Point du Chene House George L. Hannington 50

Zephyr House Edward McDonald 25

Uame op Hotel. PftopRiHrroR. No. GuBBXa

SHEDIAC.

Weldou House Jamea D. Weldon 60

Union R. S. Bourque 50

SAINT JOHN.

Victoria. D. W. McCormick 175

Royal- Thomas F. Raymond 150

Hotel DufTerin - Fre<l. A. Jc ues 100

New Victoria. J. L. McCoskery 100

Belmont John Sime 100

Clifton A. N. Peters 50

HAMPTON.

Vendome "W. T, Scribner 30

C. P. R James R. Humphrey .. 20

SUSSEX.

Depot House Mrs. A. McLean 40

Intercolonial .... P. Mckay - 35

PETITCODIAC.

Mansard House N. Doherty 35

Temperance House D. A. Jonah 15

MONCTON.

BruQSwick Greorg;e McSweeney 100

P.oyal William A. Wallace 100

Commercial William Brown « 50

Queen P. GuUaghar 50

RICHIBUCTO.

Kent P. Wood 50

Union. Mrs. Hannah 60

NEWCASTLE.

Waverley John Jardine 60

Mitchell House C. P. Atkinson 25

CHATHAM.

Adams House Thomas Flanagan

Canada House William Johnston

Bowser's Miss Bowser

... 50

BATHURST.

Keary House T. F. Keary 100

Carter's John Carter 30

International James Buchanan 20

Power House M. Powdr 20

Albert House ( Bathurst Vil.j-.Mrs. Grant 20

JACQUET RIVER.

Barclay's J. C. Barclay 25

Doyle's M. P.Doyle 25

DALHOrSIE.

Inch A rran Jerome i . Hall

Murphy's y Thomas Murphy

Chabur W^illiam Mclntyre

McAskill P.B.Trav

300

... 60

CAMPB-ELLTOiV.

Royal James Sproul 25

Intercolonial D. O'Keefe 25

Wests Wm. West 25

Queen H. O'Keefe 20

Lansdowne Hou&e Mrs. Doherty 15

Ill

Name of Hoteu

60
50

30
20

40
35

35
15

Propkiktor.
LITTLE METI3.

No. Gc'KSTS,

Seaside Wastte & Brass • 150

Turriff Hall R. Turriff 100

Cascade House 70

Woodland House J. ymith 50

Green Hill House W. Turriff 30

Eoy's A. Roy 20

RIMOUSKL

St. Lawrence Hall A. St. Laurent & Son

Rimouski F. St. Laurent

Ocean Steamers Ls. Leng;han

Windsor .... . Elz. Ouellet

60
60
40
30

BIC.

Prir'ite Boarding House Miss Julie Gagno 25

Bie ilichel P'.neault 20

Hattie Bay House Joseph Lavoi»» . • 20

CACOUNA.

St. Lawrence Hall T. D. Shipman 400

Mansion House Charles Bertrand 200

Adolpbe Serois A. Sirois . . . 125

Gagnon Mrs. F. Gagnon 76

Private Houses accom. about - 1000

RIVIERE hU LOUP.

Talbots Edward Talbot

Fraserville Jos. Deslauriers

Fontaines (Riv. du Loup Pt.) . . J. A. Fontaiu.

- 75

Victoria 40

KAM0URA8KA.

St. Louis W. Blai8 ' 150

LeBels • J. R. Le Bel 100

Tenipevance Miss 1 >e8chene8 60

Ward's Mrs. Thomas Ward 50

Langlais House Miss M. Langlais 40

ST. THOMAS.

Montmagny Louis Letourneau

Hotel du Gouvernment F. X. Bernier ....

Hotel St. Louis Zephirin Belanger

Mad. Cot^s MadaiT F. Cote

Hotel du Peuple F. X. Lamonde 'JO

LEVIS.

Keunel.'ec James -Lawlor 75

Terminus L. M. Blouin , 40

Levis Mathias (Tregoire. 30

Intercolonial Joseph Begin 25

QUEBEC.

St. Louis W. E. Russell , 500

Russell House " " " 200

Albion Jo3. Francoeur iOO

Florence B. Trudel 175

Heuchey's , H. Heachev 100

Mountain Hill House E. Dion ^i tie 80

Blauchard's Mde. Pelletier 35

Quebec P. Dory ;J0

113

Name of Hotel.

Propbibtob.
ANTIGONISH.

No. GuisSTs

Central House Rufus Hal 50

Cunningham Hotel Mrs. H. E. Cunningham 50

Smith's H. C. Smith 30

Randall's Mrs. W. Randall 20

MULGRAVE.

Sea Side P. A. Grant 50

Central. >^ C. Whooten iO

Murray ^ouse D. Murray I'O

McLeod " Mrs. McLeod , 20

HAWKESBURY.

American House Mrs. Cameron, 25

Farquhar " E. McGinnis 20

Chisholm House. .

HASTINGS.
Mrs. Chisholm 20

ARICHAT.
Sea "Vien. Mrs. Bosdt 20

MABOU.
Murray House Mrs. Murray 20

^^ GRAND NARROWS.

Grand flhll^^P McDougall and McNeil 60

BADDECK.

Frank Anderson 25

J. Dunlap 25

NORTH SYDNEY.

McLellan House . J. R. McLellan

Vendome ■ John Smith

Belmont John McDonald

40
35
30

SYDNEY.

Mckenzie House H. R Mckenzie SO

Clarke " Mrs. Clarke 30

Private Boarding House Mrs. Chas. M. Lorway 20