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Title: Summer Provinces by the Sea - A description of the Vacation Resources of Eastern Quebec - and the Maritime Provinces of Canada, in the territory - served by the Canadian Government Railways
Author: Railway, Intercontinental
Language: English
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                           _Summer Provinces
                              by the Sea_

   A description of the Vacation Resources of Eastern Quebec and the
 Maritime Provinces of Canada, in the territory served by the Canadian
                         Government Railways:—

                         INTERCOLONIAL RAILWAY
                      PRINCE EDWARD ISLAND RAILWAY



  1. Introductory                                                       5
  2. Historic Quebec                                                   28
  3. Summer Resorts of the Lower St. Lawrence                          68
  4. Across the Base of the Gaspé Peninsula; and Some Superb Fishing
          Streams                                                     105
  5. The Bay of Chaleur                                               120
  6. The Miramichi River and Nashwaak Valley Districts                142
  7. Fredericton, and the Upper St. John River                        153
  8. The City of St. John, and Lower St. John River                   173
  9. St. John to Moncton and Point du Chene                           192
  10. Prince Edward Island                                            203
  11. Moncton to the Atlantic, over the Halifax Division              229
  12. Halifax, an Ocean Gateway                                       246
  13. Nova Scotia, North and East                                     260
  14. Cape Breton Island                                              271
  15. Where to Go—Recommended Places                                  299

  [Illustration: Chateau Frontenac, Quebec]



One glance at a map of the Western Hemisphere is all that is needed to
show the splendid situation of Eastern Quebec and the Maritime Provinces
of Canada as the natural summer recreation centres for the people of a

Communicating with the world’s greatest system of inland waterways;
washed by the salt spray of the rolling Atlantic; blessed with
innumerable lakes, majestic rivers, dashing waterfalls and sparkling
brooks; clothed with noble forests; featured by towering mountain
chains, and swept by cool health-bringing breezes—these delightful
domains are surely the summer provinces of all America.

Who has not read with fascination and delight the thrilling pages of
Canada’s romantic history; or has not been stirred with deep emotion
over the adventures of that trio of great explorers: Cabot, Cartier and

The desperate struggles of the early colonists with the savage Iroquois
Indians; the long and fluctuating conflict for supremacy between France
and Great Britain; the incursions of the New England Colonists; the
mixed settlement of Colonial Loyalists, French, English, Scotch and
Irish; the Acadian Expulsion—all have combined to make Quebec and the
Maritime Provinces a field that is rich in interest and quite unlike any
other part of the continent.

Here buried treasures of legend and story are on every hand, promising
rich reward to the happy discoverers.


There is a fascination in seeing places where the people of long ago
have lived, and where epoch-making events have occurred; for there we
may learn at first hand and from personal observation many things that
cannot be read in the printed page.


How delightful to stand where Jacques Cartier planted his symbolic cross
with its emblazoned shield bearing the royal lilies of France, and to
remember that here his banners were first unfurled to the breezes of
this western land. And while the loyal sons of St. Denis saluted the
fluttering flags as the guns were discharged in joyful salvo to mark the
birth of an empire beyond the seas did the wondering Indians understand
the full meaning of the ceremony, or realize that this handful of men
was but the advance guard of a mighty host propelled by a still mightier
force—the power of civilization—that would compel the poor “sons of the
forest” to give way before the irresistible onrush?

This sixteenth century invasion of Canada seems very remote to us; but
long before Columbus, Cabot or Cartier set foot on the Western
Continent, other Europeans had visited it.

From the first contact of the white man with his red brother, the
Aboriginal tribes living along the North Atlantic coast had well defined
and century-old traditions of a wonderful ship that had been cast ashore
manned by strange white men who were all drowned. In Norse history,
also, there is the Saga of Eric the Red relating to the discovery of the
east coast of North America, before the Christian Era was a thousand
years old. Whittier refers to this in his legendary verses, “The

  “What sea-worn barks are those which throw
  The light spray from each rushing prow?
  Have they not in the North Sea’s blast
  Bowed to the waves the straining mast?

                                * * * * *


  Onward they glide,—and now I view
  Their iron-armed and stalwart crew,
  Joy glistens in each wild blue eye,
  Turned to green earth and summer sky;
  Each broad, seamed breast has cast aside
  Its cumbering vest of shaggy hide;
  Bared to the sun and soft warm air,
  Streams back the Norseman’s yellow hair.”

[Illustration: Riviere Ste. Anne]

The Vikings are believed to have had a fishing station at Gaspé in the
tenth century, and it is almost certain that in the few following
centuries Norman and Basque fishermen sailed up and down the waters of
the St. Lawrence.

But early history, although interesting to those who would know
something of the land in which they sojourn, is only a background for
the natural beauty and other material features of the provinces.
Beginning, therefore, with Quebec,—which although ocean-swept and
geographically maritime, is not one of the Maritime Provinces,—and
proceeding east, a brief survey is now made of New Brunswick, Prince
Edward Island, and Nova Scotia inclusive of Cape Breton.


The Province of Quebec is highly diversified and mountainous, and full
of ever-changing pictures of great beauty. Its eastern borders are famed
for their fine highland scenery, picturesque lakes and romantic glens.
In many parts the scenery is majestic, with everything on a grand scale;
and the mountains, woods, lakes, rivers, precipices and waterfalls all
combine to make the country one of the grandest in the world. Canada’s
beautiful Mediterranean, the noble St. Lawrence, traverses the province
from south-west to north-east, and receives as tributaries the great
rivers Ottawa, Richelieu, St. Maurice and the Saguenay, as well as a
multitude of other rivers of considerable size.

“What river is this?”.....asked Cartier of his Indian pilot, when first
he sailed over the broad expanse of the St. Lawrence. With impressive
dignity came the reply, “A river that has no end.” How apt this
conception was is apparent when we remember that in its widest sense—for
the great lakes are but river beds of the Ice Age—the St. Lawrence
system is over 2200 miles long.

It is interesting to remember that all the early navigators sailed up
the St. Lawrence with the hope of thus reaching China and the Indies. It
was this quest for a direct western seaway to the Orient that led to the
discovery of the North American continent. Indeed, in Roman times and
many centuries before the Norse discovery of a thousand years ago,
Iberian shipping, bound west, is believed to have reached the St.
Lawrence as far as Tadousac and the Saguenay River. All of these daring
navigators believed that the Western shores reached by them were the
bold headlands of the Asiatic continent.

The value of Cabot’s discovery of the Western continent in early days—or
the niggardly character of the ‘royal’ Henry—may be inferred from the
following entry in the expenditure account, for the year 1497, still to
be seen in the British Museum: “August 10th........To hyme that founde
the new Isle........£10.”

The great Champlain, in his search for a western waterway to China,
penetrated as far as the lake in the State of New York that now bears
his name.


There is such a wealth of scenic beauty in the Province of Quebec, and
such a delightful, old-time life is found in its many quaint villages,
that a tour in any part of the province is full of very pleasant
surprises. Without much imagination you may believe you are in a
province of Old France. Thoreau, the naturalist, thought it appeared as
old as Normandy itself, enabling him to realize much that he had heard
of Europe and the Middle Ages. When you leave the United States you
travel in company with the saints, for the names of villages such as St.
Fereol, Ste. Anne, The Guardian Angel, and of mountains such as Belange
and St. Hyacinthe are all along your route. The names “reel with the
intoxication of poetry”—Chambly, Longueuil, Pointe aux Trembles,
Bartholomy, etc. Like Thoreau you will “dream of Provence and the

The beauties of Tadousac, and the grandeur of the “Dread Saguenay, where
eagles soar”—will be of deep interest to all who reach Rivière du Loup
on the opposite shore by Intercolonial Railway, and who cross over on
the steamships of the Trans-St. Laurent Company.

There are few places in the world where such a delightful trip of
two-and-a-half hours can be taken across a great waterway. Probably the
best view of the whole north shore is that seen from here. The blue
water, the gorgeous clouds, the great mountain ranges and the ‘tang’ of
the sea air will ever be remembered.

  “I saw the East’s pale cheek blush rosy red
  When from his royal palace in the sky,
  The sun-god, clothed in crimson splendor, came
  And lit the torch of day with sudden flame,
  While morning on white wings flew swiftly by
  Bringing a message that the night was dead.”

Picturesque Tadousac,—with its delightful life—the tremendous chasms of
the Saguenay, the majestic capes, the noble mountain stream of the
Chicoutimi, the great lake of St. John, and the perpendicular cliffs and
roaring rapids of the Marguerite; all show nature in her grandest


All along the south shore of the St. Lawrence are numerous pleasant
summer resorts; and from Rivière Ouelle Junction on the Intercolonial
Railway the train may be taken to the riverside wharf from whence the
steamship Champlain makes a pleasant trip to the trio of splendid
resorts on the north shore: Murray Bay with its sublime Alpine scenery,
rugged Cap à l’Aigle, and charming St. Irénée.

And then Quebec, the old-world city, the capital of the province, the
historic centre of Canada and all America, the city of Wolfe and
Montcalm! Surely the thought of her glories brings a flush of pride to
the faces of French and British alike. No city in all America is more
famous than this.

  “Near her grim citadel the blinding sheen
    Of her cathedral spire triumphant soars,
  Rocked by the Angelus, whose peal serene
    Floats over Beaupré and the Lévis shores.”

Seen from the river, Quebec is noble, grand, and superb. Its cupolas,
minarets, steeples and battlements give it the appearance of an Oriental
city. Some find here a resemblance to Angoulême, Innspruck and
Edinburgh; and the surrounding scenery has been likened to the
unsurpassed views of the Bosphorus. The whole prospect of mountain,
river and citadel-capped city cannot be surpassed in any part of the

The great interest excited by a near approach to the old capital is
heightened as one steps ashore, thrilled by the novelty and beauty of
all the surroundings. It is a city of striking contrasts; and full of
the quaint and curious sights that make Old World travel so delightful.

The environs, too, and the whole surrounding country are rich with
historic, romantic and picturesque interest.

It is related that a touring party in an automobile arrived recently at
Quebec at 8.30 in the morning. They had breakfast, ‘did’ the city and
surrounding country, had luncheon and were off for other parts by 1.30.
This is surely a ‘record’; but...... poor Quebec! or rather, poor
travellers! ........ for pity should be theirs.

A stay of a month will bring daily joys to the one that loves legend and
romance, and all that is quaint and beautiful. The walks and drives and
boating trips, the numerous pretty lakes, the fine rivers Chaudière and
Jacques Cartier, as well as the Ste. Anne and smaller streams, supply
constant incitement for healthful exercise; and above all there is the
story of Quebec that will call him daily in every direction to drink at
the fountain head of historic lore.

[Illustration: Trout Creek, Sussex]

If haply the visitor can remain for several months, he will find ample
occupation in this rich and inexhaustible locality; and if his
heart-chords are those of the poet, the scholar, the man of letters, the
artist, the soldier, the student, or the lover of the beautiful, he will
leave the city with deep regret; and with sad heart, a moist eye, and
broken utterance will the words “Farewell to dear Old Quebec” be said.

[Illustration: A Summer Camp]

In such a large, well-wooded and splendidly watered province as Quebec,
the facilities for camping, boating, hunting and fishing are some of the
best the world affords; and with a river as vast as an ocean, and
widening out grandly until it meets the Atlantic, there is an unlimited
choice of bathing and summer life at almost any reasonable temperature.
The peninsula of Gaspé, too, with its legends and tales of adventure, is
one of the world’s choicest fishing and hunting regions; while the far
northern shores of the River and Gulf of St. Lawrence are watered by
splendid rivers, with merely a fringe of settlement, so that the
untrodden interior will give real occupation for naturalists, sportsmen
and explorers for many a year to come.

In the sylvan province of New Brunswick none should go thirsty; for such
a prodigality of rivers, streams, cascades, brooks, rivulets and
springs, all sparkling like crystal, was never seen. In addition to its
network of waterways, the province borders on the great deep; so that
from any part of the interior it is easy to reach the St. Lawrence, the
Bay of Chaleur and the Bay of Fundy. Nearly all of the principal rivers
are intimately connected with each other, either by communicating
streams or short portages.


De Monts and Champlain were the pioneer explorers who were sent by King
Henry IV. of France at the opening of the seventeenth century to
colonize Acadia, in which old-time domain New Brunswick was included.
Stirring events have taken place, and many a clash of arms has been
heard on the St. John River. The story of the gallant Charles La Tour
and his brave wife Frances, “the Heroine of Acadia,” is a thrilling one.
It is an episode of which all Canada is justly proud.

  “But what of my lady?”
  Cried Charles of Estienne:

  On the shot-crumbled turret
  Thy lady was seen:
  Half-veiled in the smoke-cloud,
  Her hand grasped thy pennon,
  While her dark tresses swayed
  In the hot breath of cannon!

                                * * * * *

  Of its sturdy defenders,
    Thy lady alone
  Saw the cross-blazoned banner
    Float over St. John.


The St. John River is the chief member of that great system of lakes and
rivers that has won for this province the distinction of being “the most
finely watered country in the world.” It is one of the most delightful
waterways known, and it is questionable whether any part of America can
exhibit greater beauty than that seen in a cruise over its entrancing
waters. Steamers may navigate a hundred miles from its mouth, and canoes
may go up another hundred miles without other obstruction than an
occasional rapid.

The city of St. John is full of commercial and shipping activity, and is
the natural centre of a very extensive and attractive country. It enjoys
the proud distinction of having the great reversing fall, the only one
in the world.

The woods and rivers of New Brunswick are so famous that they lure
sportsmen and nature-lovers from all parts of the world. Who has not
heard of the Restigouche River? a truly noble and stately stream,
receiving a number of fine tributaries, and which has been termed “all
things considered, the finest fishing-river in the world.”

Then the enticing Upsalquitch, the murmuring Matapedia or “Musical
River,” the charming Miramichi River with its hills of verdure and
valleys of green, and the wild Nepisiguit, leading to a marvellous
hunting country; these rivers, with others, are Nature’s highways
leading to the haunts of bear, moose and caribou, and to pellucid depths
and sparkling falls where the lordly salmon struggles so bravely against


This province is the natural home of the canoe, and to the native
Indians we owe that bird of the wave with its birch-bark wings. In every
direction towns, villages, lakes and streams are met that still retain
their musical Indian names. Who would wish them changed? Scattered
through the forests and by the side of many a river may be found the
obliging Micmac and Maliceet Indians, skilled in canoeing and woodcraft,
and with some of whom for guides delightful outdoor vacations may be

  “If thou art worn and hard beset
  With sorrows that thou wouldst forget,
  If thou would read a lesson that will keep
  Thy heart from fainting, and thy soul from sleep,
  Go to the woods and hills!—no tears
  Dim the sweet look that Nature wears.”

Prince Edward Island was first named L’Isle St. Jean by Champlain when
he visited it in the early years of the seventeenth century. Cabot is
supposed to have called there some fifteen years earlier, but there is
no definite record of such a visit.

The Island is very pleasantly placed in the southern part of the Gulf of
St. Lawrence, and has deep water on every side. It was formerly covered
with dense forest growth, but this has nearly all been cut down, and the
whole island is under cultivation and is very fertile. It presents a
striking appearance on a near approach from the sea, because of its red
soil and the abundance of sandstone. The air is delightful, and the
climate somewhat milder than that of New Brunswick.

Prince Edward is the Rhode Island of Canada, for with a total population
of not one-third of that of Toronto, and much less than a fifth of that
of Boston, the little province is self-governing, and it has a governor,
a legislature and its own premier and cabinet, etc.


This pleasant and sunny little isle is well provided with attractive
names. Because of its delightful situation, its balmy air and prolific
soil it is known far and wide as the “Garden of the Gulf.” Many of the
Micmac Indians made it their home in the early times, and from them has
come the beautiful name, musical as well as poetical, Abegweit or
“Resting on the Wave.”

[Illustration: A Prince Edward Island Beach]

  “A speck of green in the restless sea,
    Its edge girt around with red,
  Fanned by the sea-breeze wand’ring free—
    A clear blue sky o’erhead.”

There is a pastoral simplicity and freshness about the island that has a
fascination for those who visit its shores each year in such numbers.
The early settlement by French peasantry from Bretagne, Picardy and
Normandy, the Acadian French from Nova Scotia, and the English and
Scotch settlers who followed, all give the pleasant little towns and
villages an interesting character. There are good and safe harbors on
the south side; but on the north it is difficult to find one, unless it
be where:


  “When nearing home the reapers go,
  And Hesper’s dewy light is born:
  Or Autumn’s moonbeams soft and slow
  Draw dials round the sheaves of corn,
  Southward o’er inner tracts and far
  Mysterious murmurs wander on—
  The sound of waves that waste the bar,
  The sandy bar by Alberton.”

The miniature rivers of the province have a character all their own; and
while the land is not one of “mountain and torrent,” the rippling
streams, wooded banks, and smiling verdure on every hand make walks,
drives, and boating and canoeing pastimes of happiness and delight.

Numerous and picturesque brooks and mill-streams are quite noticeable
features in journeying over the land; and artists, nature-lovers, and
those who admire the beautiful will surely linger in many a tranquil and
secluded spot on this happy “isle of the summer sea” to drink deep of
scenes that are both choice and unique.

  “And one still pool as slow the day declines,
  Holds close the sunset’s glory in its deeps
  In colors that no mortal tongue could name.”


Nova Scotia and Cape Breton may be termed the sea-walls of the Maritime
Provinces, for they are on the outer edge or Atlantic front where they
receive the first violent shock of the turbulent rollers that later
sweep into the Gulf and inner waters with rapidly lessening force, spent
and defeated after their struggle with the giant headlands of granite.

As would naturally be expected, the scenery gradually changes as Quebec
and Northern New Brunswick are left behind, not in the sense that it
deteriorates, however—it simply alters its character. There are
districts, such as the Wentworth Valley, that have become famous for
their loveliness; and, as is now well known, Cape Breton has a wild and
rugged beauty—like to that of the Scottish Highlands—that gives it a
first place in the estimation of many. Indeed, in relation to travel
interest generally, it is remarkable what great variety or diversity of
scene is found in going from one part to the other of the Maritime
Provinces. It may truly be said that each province has its own distinct
features of beauty, and those who go to one district for the mountains
will have their counterpart in others who will seek the sea and the open


  Over the cool green wall of waves advancing
    Glistens a crested line of feathery foam,
  Till along the beach the billows scatter, glancing
    A mist of spray as over the waters comb,
  Then fades the white-capped crest all slowly sinking
  Where silent, shadowy sands are ever drinking, drinking.

  Over the sea, miles out, a ship is riding,
    Threading the ocean paths with oaken keel,
  And under her bow the baffled waves are sliding
    As over her sails the rising breezes steal,
  And in her wake a foamy track is lying
  As northward far she sails still flying, flying.

[Illustration: Canoeing on the East River, near New Glasgow]


Nova Scotia proper—for Cape Breton, once a separate province, is now
included politically with the Atlantic peninsula—is almost an island,
being connected to New Brunswick by an isthmus that is only eight miles
wide in its narrowest part. It is well watered by rivers and lakes, and
has many fine harbors. The climate is mild and delightful, and makes it
one of the most desirable places in which to spend a summer. Although
there is no lack of sunshine, the Atlantic breeze is so refreshing, and
the Arctic current that sets in against the shore is so cooling that no
one can suffer from the heat. This gives a delightful stimulus to all
outdoor recreation and sport, for, no matter how active the employment,
there is no discomfort or lassitude as a result.

[Illustration: Regatta Day—North West Arm, Halifax]

The climate of this province is, therefore, a glorious natural heritage
of inestimable value; and, as the years go by, the truth of this
statement will become more and more apparent as the country becomes
better known by summer-suffering millions to the south.

This is the province where fine deep-sea fishing may be had at so many
places along the coast, and where the giant leaping-tuna, and huge,
darting swordfish may be caught—royal sport, indeed!

De Monts and Champlain enter into the history of the province, as do the
La Tours, father and son. Annapolis Royal, the old Port Royal of French
days, has been the scene of many a conflict in which French, English and
New England Colonials took part. The Acadian French were quite numerous
here previous to the time of their expulsion. It is a mistake, however,
to presume that the whole Acadian interest centres in one part of the
Bay of Fundy side of the province. Such is not the case; for Acadian
families and villages may be found in many parts of the Maritime

The City of Halifax—the Cronstadt of America—has become the Mecca for
annual thousands of visitors from all parts of the world. With its
quaint and old-time appearance, its military and naval interests, its
magnificent situation, its World-Harbor, its picturesque environs,
lakes, forests and grand water privileges for yachting and boating,
Halifax is unique as a centre of attraction. Moreover, it is the most
convenient place from which to start for excursions down the romantic
south-shore, as well as for the Annapolis Valley, and for all the great
fishing rivers and hunting districts that lie east between the Atlantic
and the line of the Intercolonial Railway, and extend as far as Guysboro
and the Strait of Canso.

Nor must the beautiful country around Truro, and east and west of it, be
forgotten; nor that along the northern water front of the province from
Tidnish to Tracadie, with all the restful shore places included in that

Nova Scotia is indeed a summer country, _par excellence_. It has
splendid woodland and a fine system of rivers and lakes. Go where you
will in any part of it and you are never more than thirty miles from the
shore. Sea life is, therefore, a prominent feature, and with all the
forms of recreation and amusement so bountifully provided, summer days
passed in the Atlantic province go all too quickly by.


  “There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
    There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
  There is society where none intrudes,
    By the deep sea, and music in its roar.”

Cape Breton was originally called L’Isle Royale by the French in the
time of the Grand Monarch, Louis XIV. Its history is an eventful one.

At Louisbourg on the east coast, once known as the Dunkirk of America,
titanic conflicts have taken place. Its fortifications erected there in
the early part of the eighteenth century, from plans by Vauban the
celebrated military engineer, took over twenty years in construction.
Citadel, massive stone bastions, a protective moat and huge gun
batteries once existed there; and powerful fleets have battled in front
of it for New-World supremacy.

As in other parts of the Maritime Provinces, the New England Colonials
have left their impress on the history of Cape Breton. Here, too, are
many Acadian settlements, made up of the descendants of those who fled
from the mainland while this land of refuge was still a French


It would be difficult to find a summer climate more agreeable than that
of Cape Breton. The days are bright and sunny, tempered by cool and
refreshing sea-breezes. There is no scorching heat at any time, and it
affords a delightful contrast with the torrid conditions that prevail in
districts a few hundred miles to the south.

[Illustration: House Boat on the Bras d’Or Lake]

It is the land of the mountain and the sea, and has been aptly likened
to the Scottish Highlands in its general character.

  “Two voices are there—one is of the sea,
  One of the mountains—each a mighty voice.”

The great salt-water lake known as the Bras d’Or, or ‘Arm of Gold,’ runs
through the whole extent of the island, with many ramifications; and it
has connection with the Atlantic by two narrow channels. It is almost a
‘tideless ocean,’ for before the water can lower itself to any
appreciable extent, the Atlantic low tide has turned and is becoming
high again. It is therefore an ideal place for yachting and motor
boating; while in the pretty rivers and lagoons are found choice waters
for boating and canoeing.

Fine mountain ranges and magnificent scenery make Cape Breton a
delightful country for summer pleasures. A drive along the ‘Arm of
Gold,’ and in almost any part of the island, is a delightful experience.
Baddeck, Whycocomagh, Arichat, Louisbourg, the Sydneys, Ingonish and
Mabou, as well as the Margaree and Middle Rivers, are all places of
delight for vacationists. Fine forests of oak, birch, maple and ash,
with plenty of the woods more commonly seen, are here in great

A climb up the great height of Old Smoky, the _Cap Enfumé_ of the
French, lands one almost in the clouds; and on a clear starlit night
when the moon is in the heavens, a view is spread out below that can
never be forgotten. The walks and drives in the lovely valleys, with
towering mountains ever visible—the white gypsum at their base—a
shimmery halo above; they, too, take a deep and fond hold on the memory.


  “Why do those cliffs of shadowy tint appear
  More sweet than all the landscape smiling near?
  ’Tis distance lends enchantment to the view,
  And robes the mountain in its azure hue.”

The Intercolonial Railway forms the greater part of the system known as
the Canadian Government Railways. With the road known as the Prince
Edward Island Railway, together with other shorter branch lines
gradually coming under Government control, to their betterment, the
whole system gives ready access to all of Central and Eastern Quebec and
the Maritime Provinces.

This system may truly be called the fairy godmother of the Maritime
Provinces, for with outstretched arm it has placed the five extended
fingers of a fostering hand over the important commercial centres of
Montreal, Quebec, St. John, Halifax and Sydney, causing them to pulsate
with life, and bringing them into intimate relation with the great
centres of the sister provinces from Atlantic to Pacific.

Merely to sit in one of the numerous comfortable trains, and observantly
tour the main line, is a novel experience, a revelation of beauty and an
education in itself; but if to that is added a sojourn in one or more of
the localities best suited for the individual preference of the
traveller, the result will be satisfactory and exhilarating.

While it is true, in a measure, that almost any part of the
Intercolonial summer country will amply satisfy all general requirements
for vacation pleasures, it should be remembered that an intelligent
choice should be made of a district that is rich in those things
essential for the enjoyment of those who intend going there.

To this end the present book has been written. It will be found accurate
and reliable; and a careful perusal of its contents will give full
information on all points of interest. Through its pages are distributed
Indian legends, Acadian tales, and stories of hunting, fishing, boating,
canoeing, and camp, tent and bungalow life, etc., embodied in the
description of the districts to which such incidents properly belong.
The natural history, or nature-interest, in animal, bird, fish and
wild-flower life is a feature of the book that must give pleasure to
those who go to a country like that described to enjoy life in the open.

A comprehensive index is also provided of events, subjects, districts,
places, persons and things. When the reader has completed the first
reading of the book, this index will afford ready means for turning to
those subjects that linger in the memory, that enlighten travel and that
enhance the pleasure of it; while as a practical and every-day guide for
things it is necessary to know, the same index is sure to be helpful in
looking up all necessary information from time to time.

[Illustration: All Aboard!]

  Swinging through the forests,
    Rattling over ridges,
  Shooting under arches
    Rumbling over bridges,
  Whizzing through the mountains
    Buzzing o’er the vale,—
  Bless me! this is pleasant
    Riding on the rail!

[Illustration: Soldier’s Monument, St. Louis Gate, Quebec]

                           _Historic Quebec_


It is undoubtedly best to approach Quebec by way of the south shore; the
city, as is generally known, being on the north side of the St.
Lawrence. Whether coming from Montreal and the south-west, or St. John,
Halifax and the east, the Intercolonial Railway brings the traveller to
the most convenient point, Lévis, immediately opposite Quebec.

Here, taking one of the ferries, and with a seat under the awning of the
upper deck, a splendid view is had of the further shore as the steamer
makes its way across the river. No need to ask, “What place is this?” or
“Is this Quebec?” Such a question would be absurd, for here in all its
grandeur is the great St. Lawrence River, there clusters Quebec around
the grim old rock, and yonder, high up, where proudly floats the flag of
empire in the active breeze, is the King’s Bastion, with the old
citadel, the Château Frontenac and all the spires, peaks and towers that
make this place like an ancient picture from the Old World.

What a delightful experience it is to look upon sights and scenes that
are novel and beautiful, full of charming local color, and permeated
with that atmosphere of grandeur and power that quickens the pulse and
causes the thrill of emotion to telegraph its way through the nerve
centres. As soon as Quebec is approached it becomes immediately apparent
that it is rich in all those things that excite human interest; and if
the opinion of others is needed, the testimony of that galaxy of the
great, famous in geography, literature, science and art—that long
procession of renowned men and women that has taken its way hither in
unbroken pilgrimage through the past centuries—is all based on the one
majestic keynote of wonder, admiration, reverence and love for all that
Quebec typifies for the people of two hemispheres.

How pleasant to sit and view the magnificent prospect up and down the
noble river, and see the great mountains that tower and then disappear
in the distant blue haze. What glorious clouds; and what beautiful
effects of light and shade the bright sun paints on the broad outspread
canvas of nature that surrounds us! It needs but the sight of Quebec in
its grand setting of striking beauty and the simple melodies of the
people heard from violins and harp amidships, to transport the mind in a
delightful reverie of the past.


In fancy we see the Henrys, the Edwards, Good ‘Queen Bess,’ James, poor
Charles, the sturdy Lord Protector, Cromwell, and all the long line of
crowned heads whose history is woven in with that of Eastern Canada. And
then the French King Francis, the two _Henri_, and the four _Louis_,
with Champlain, Jacques Cartier and Frontenac; the noble missionaries
who came here to teach the savage Indians—murdered, or burnt at the
stake for their devotion; the great captains, including England’s
Nelson, the brave soldiers down to Wolfe and Montcalm, and since; the
Norman and Basque peasant settlers, the _coureurs du bois_, the
buccaneers, privateers and adventurers; all these have figured in
Quebec’s remarkable history.

A bump at the landing dock recalls us to the present, and as we step
ashore it is with reverence akin to that which we feel when standing
under the towering Norman greatness of Durham Cathedral, or when in the
sacred precincts of Westminster Abbey where lie buried the genius and
achievement of centuries.

And now Quebec is reached, and some of the things that will ever be in
mind after this memorable visit are now before us; and weeks of happy
experiences are about to unfold their treasure to our admiring gaze.

There is no better way of understanding and appreciating what the old
city holds in store than that of first rambling about in every direction
on foot. With occasional car trips and with a drive now and again in a
_caleche_, the plan of the city and its environs becomes gradually
clear. The sight of the quaint streets and of the many old features that
are so novel on the new continent will be enjoyed because seen without
guide or premeditation. The process known to our English cousins as
‘knocking about,’ which is to saunter where you will, on foot and
without haste, is the best way in Old Quebec. It is on foot that
terrestrial things are seen intimately, and when we have made a dozen
‘rounds’ of the lower town, walked along the ramparts again and again,
rambled in the citadel, promenaded on Dufferin Terrace, quenched our
thirst at the Frontenac, climbed the glacis, walked the parapets, viewed
the majestic scene from the King’s Bastion, sauntered over the Plains of
Abraham, and circled the city until every spot is known; then, and not
until then, shall we drink in enough of the atmosphere, and be in a
condition to take an intelligent view of all that surrounds us, awaiting
the keen examination that cannot be made in a hasty or superficial


Of the general appearance of Quebec it will be enough to quote from the
words of three of its famous visitors. Thoreau wrote: “I rubbed my eyes
to be sure I was in the nineteenth century.” Dickens recorded: “The
impression made upon the visitor by this Gibraltar of America, its giddy
heights, its citadel suspended, as it were, in the air; its picturesque,
steep streets and frowning gateways; and the splendid views which burst
upon the eye at every turn, is at once unique and lasting;” while Henry
Ward Beecher set down these as his impressions: “Curious, old
Quebec!...... of all the cities on the continent of America, the
quaintest...... We rode about as if we were in a picture book, turning
over a new leaf at each street!”

A brief survey of the history of New France, or Eastern Canada, is a
necessary preliminary for the full enjoyment of all those things for
which Quebec is famed.

Commissioned by Henry VII. of England, Cabot sailed west in search of a
route to China and India, and discovered America. This new land he set
down as the coast of China. The discovery was not immediately followed
up by further exploration or settlement, and not until the year 1534 did
Jacques Cartier, the St. Malo navigator, make a voyage of discovery for
the French sovereign Francis I. The intrepid sailor succeeded in
reaching the western continent, or New France, and landed at Gaspé,
where he erected a cross with an inscription on it claiming the country
for the King of France.

Winter approaching, he made his way home again. Before leaving he had
entrapped two natives, and these he took with him as evidence of his

In the year 1535 Cartier made a second western voyage, and this time he
sailed up the great river which he named the St. Lawrence. At that time
the fish were so plentiful that the progress of the little flotilla of
three tiny ships was often greatly impeded. Bears, also, were very
numerous, and quite expert in catching the fish for their food. It was a
common sight to see Bruin plunge into the water, fasten his claws in a
great fish and drag it ashore.


The native Indians were also seen, in canoes, hunting seals and catching
white whales. Alarmed by the approach of the strange men in their
marvellous vessels, the savages paddled off with haste; but on being
addressed in their own tongue by the two returned captives on Cartier’s
vessel, they abandoned their flight and returned to gaze with
astonishment and child-like wonder at all they saw.

Cartier was informed of the existence of an Indian village of
considerable size at Stadacona, quite near to Quebeio or Quelibec, and
there he met the great chief Donnacona, the ‘Lord of Canada.’

There is no complete agreement on the origin and meaning of the name
‘Quebec.’ Some have traced its derivation from the word ‘Kepek,’ the
aboriginal equivalent for ‘come ashore,’ supposed to have been addressed
to Jacques Cartier when he hove-to near Stadacona. Others have surmised
that it sprang from the exclamation of a Norman sailor on first seeing
the great cape—“Quelbec!” (“What a cape!”) Again, the Abenaquis word
‘Quelibec,’ meaning ‘narrowing’ or ‘closed,’ is supposed to be the real
derivation; while a very strong claimant for recognition is the Indian
word ‘Kebeque,’ which means ‘a narrowing of the waters.’

Learning of another large native village on the St. Lawrence, a
considerable distance above Stadacona, Jacques Cartier determined to
proceed there with one of his vessels. The chief Donnacona, a shrewd old
savage, did not favor further penetration of his domains, and calling to
his aid some of his tribe dressed as ‘devils,’ he hoped to frighten the
bold navigator with the frightful whoopings and noisy invocation to the
demons who were supposed to inhabit the forests.


Cartier pushed on, however, and leaving his vessel near the place now
known as St. Maurice, and proceeding in the ship’s boats, reached
Hochelaga, the site of the present Montreal. The village was circular in
form, with a strong palisade surrounding it. The one entrance was well
guarded by removable barriers, and platforms were erected inside from
which stones could be showered on possible assailants. The square or
assembly-ground was in the centre, having grouped around it the
birch-bark wigwams or houses. Their weapons and implements were of rock,
and their simple life was communal.

The impression made by the advent of the white-faced men from another
land had a pathetic side; for the diseased and blind were carried out
from their rude shelters in order that the great White Chief should cure
their infirmities by the ‘laying on of hands.’ But alas! the white man
was not divine—and the poor Indians were consoled by presents of
hatchets, knives and beads, etc., followed by the thrilling sound of a
‘flourish of trumpets.’

During Cartier’s absence a fort and winter camp had been constructed at
Stadacona by his men, the site of which may be seen on the River St.
Charles. Cartier gave the name of Mount Royal to the mountain
overlooking Hochelaga village, and this name has survived in the
Montreal of Canada’s commercial capital.

Early next Spring Cartier, and all the remnant of his band that survived
after a severe attack of scurvy, sailed for France. A serious blemish in
Cartier’s character is shown by the record of his having carried off by
force—torn from their homes and country—poor old Donnacona, ‘Lord of
Canada,’ and other chiefs. They died in captivity, far from their kin,
and with the sad memory of their great river and noble forests ever with
them to the end.

Cartier returned to New France a third time after some five years; but
the seed of distrust was sown in the minds of the natives by the absence
of their stolen chiefs, and it was not long before the fruit of hatred
and strife developed and gradually grew until it steeped the country in
continual war and bloodshed. Cartier again set out to proceed up the
river to Hochelaga, but finding the natives had been warned and were
becoming hostile he turned back to Stadacona. He eventually returned
with Roberval to France, and died in his native St. Malo about the
middle of the sixteenth century.

It is interesting to learn that Roberval’s titles were Viceroy and
Lieutenant-General of Canada, Hochelaga, Saguenay, Newfoundland,
Belleisle, Labrador and Baccalaos.

France was now seeing stormy times in her home affairs, and no
well-directed effort was made to follow up Cartier’s work—although other
explorers and fur-traders crossed the stormy seas in their endeavor to
make a settlement in the New World.

[Illustration: QUEBEC]

  1. Montmorency Falls
  2. City Hall Park
  3. Chateau Frontenac
  4. Government House, Spencer Wood
  5. Boating on the Lorette
  6. Upper Fall, Montmorency


At last the brave and capable Champlain sailed from Harfleur in 1608,
and reached Stadacona or Kebec in safety. Here at the foot of the rock
where the quaint street Sous le Fort has since been made, a settlement
was laid out which Champlain called ‘l’Abitation de Kébec,’ and which
consisted of three lodgings and a store-house, all fenced in and
surrounded by a ditch.

Champlain made several trips to France, each time bringing back
missionary-priests and settlers. He built, a fort on the height above
his ‘Abitation,’ on the spot where his statue has since been erected.
The little colony commenced to grow, and soon numbered some fifty
people. And now began the troubles that were to shake the infant
settlement, rumblings of more desperate encounters, for a hostile
British fleet arrived, and Quebec was compelled to capitulate. Champlain
again sailed for France, where he remained until Charles I. of England
gave back Quebec to King Louis.

The founder of Quebec at last, returned to the beloved home of his
adoption, where the work of building had to be done a second time—fire
having destroyed both ‘Abitation’ and fort, as well as other buildings.
With energy and skill, supported in the main by the love and esteem of
his fellow colonizers, Champlain toiled on; his noble character showing
in all he did. To keep on good terms with the neighboring Algonquins and
Hurons he took part in their struggles with the fierce Iroquois, and
penetrated inland as far as the Georgian Bay and southern shore of Lake
Ontario. The greatest vigilance was now more than ever necessary, for
the savage Iroquois crossed the great lakes in their war canoes, came
down the St. Lawrence and lurked in the woods, ever ready to cut off and
scalp the French when found in small numbers. In addition, the
inexperienced Colonists were quite unprepared for the severe winters,
and they were often on the verge of starvation.

Other serious troubles came. The British appeared in naval force, and
again Quebec capitulated—Champlain being taken to England as a prisoner
of war.

The political kaleidoscope now took another turn, and Quebec was once
more given back to France by Charles I. of England.


For the last time Champlain again returned to Quebec, this time as
governor, and his customary energy was shown in all that related to the
welfare of the colony. In the fulness of time, rewarded by the success
of his labors and beloved by his fellows, the great man breathed his
last. He is justly considered to have been the ablest and best of all
the early explorers and governors.

The new governor Montmagny was a worthy and capable man. He greatly
improved Quebec and commenced the stone construction of Fort
Saint-Louis. It is interesting to note that during his incumbency the
Jesuits built their college. It was commenced in the year 1638, which
makes it the oldest institution of learning in North America, antedating
Harvard College by one year. A few years after this the Château
Saint-Louis was built within the walls of the fort.

Frontenac next ruled the destinies of Quebec with a firm hand. Excepting
Champlain he was perhaps the ablest governor, although his character was
marred by arrogance and sell-will. He, perhaps better than any,
understood how to hold the Indians in check. The brave d’Ibberville ably
seconded the aggressive governor during his second term of
office—recalled to stem the victories of the Iroquois and to repel the
threatened attack on Quebec by a British fleet. This fleet arrived and
anchored off the Isle of Orleans. To the haughty summons from Admiral
Phipps, to surrender within an hour, came the proud reply of Frontenac,
“It is through the mouth of my guns that your general will hear my
reply.” The attack was a failure—so well did the guns talk. After that
the able Frontenac strengthened the defences of Fort Saint-Louis to such
an extent as to convert it into a real citadel.


Towards the close of the seventeenth century Frontenac passed away. The
troubles of Quebec were not by any means ended. A great army and fleet
under the British Admiral Walker was sent out to reduce and occupy
Quebec. In going up the St. Lawrence River during a dense log, a number
of the transports were wrecked on Egg Island. More than a thousand men
were drowned. This calamity saved the threatened city, for the officers
of the expedition became disheartened and abandoned the project.

[Illustration: Governor’s Garden, Quebec]

As a sequel to that terrible loss of life in the great outer waters of
the St. Lawrence there has survived one of those traditions of which the
story of ‘The Flying Dutchman’ is the prototype. In the words of Moore:

  “There lieth a wreck on the dismal shore
  Of cold and pitiless Labrador
  Where, under the moon upon mounts of frost,
  Full many a mariner’s bones are tossed.

  Yon shadowy bark hath been to that wreck
  And the dim blue fire that lights her deck
  Doth play on as pale and livid a crew
  As ever yet drank the churchyard dew.

  To Deadman’s Isle in the eye of the blast,
  To Deadman’s Isle she speeds her fast;
  By skeleton shapes her sails are furl’d,
  And the hand that steers is not of this world!”

The Treaty of Utrecht brought peace to France and Great Britain in a
division of the land for which they had contended. It was agreed that
Canada, Isle Royal (Cape Breton) and l’Isle St. Jean (Prince Edward
Island) should belong to France; while Great Britain received Nova
Scotia, Newfoundland and the Hudson Bay Territory.

In the succeeding years the two countries again drifted into war, and by
the year 1759 it was apparent that Quebec was once more to be attacked.
Before the year was half over, a British fleet bearing 18,000 men
dropped anchor near the eastern end of the Isle of Orleans. Troops were
landed to the east of Montmorency River, and batteries were erected
there and at Point Lévis opposite Quebec. A bombardment lasting two
months soon followed. The ensuing land struggle, known as the battle of
Montmorency, brought face to face the two great leaders, Montcalm and
Wolfe, upon whom France and Britain respectively depended in the contest
for supremacy on the North American continent.



Wolfe was studying his plan of attack, and making feints in several
directions to confuse the enemy. Finally on the last day of July the
British troops forded the Montmorency River, and with the guns of the
fleet shelling the enemy’s trenches the attacking force made a
concentrated rush on the western bank to carry the position by assault.

The French were well placed, and the plan of defense was excellent. The
lines had previously been strengthened at every favorable attacking
point by the able general Montcalm, and he had a picked reserve at hand
ready to hurl it in whatever direction it should be most needed.

The British lost heavily, and Wolfe abandoned the attack in that
direction and recalled his troops across the river.

This trial of strength was the prelude to more serious work. Wolfe,
weakened by illness—and against the counsels of his officers who were
almost unanimous that the siege should be abandoned—persisted in his
determination to reduce Quebec. More than a month passed by before new
plans were perfected, but at last towards the middle of September a new
assault was commenced.

Soon after midnight the boats of the British stole quietly along the
Sillery shore under cover of the darkness. In the foremost boat was a
Highland officer who spoke the French language. “Qui Vive!” rang out the
challenge, as a sentry detected the shadowy boat making inshore. Fortune
surely favored the British, for the Scotchman had no difficulty in
passing himself off as a French officer in charge of a detachment
bringing expected supplies for Quebec. Some of the boats had drifted
further east beyond the inlet now known as Wolfe’s Cove. Here what had
always been regarded as an impossible ascent was found practicable by
the sturdy mountain-climbing Highlanders. Swarming up the unprotected
height they immediately overmastered the scattered sentries, captured in
his tent the sleeping officer in charge, and sent back word to General
Wolfe that the ground was clear. The troops were disembarked at once,
and the dawn of day revealed the British lines on the Plains of Abraham,
their right wing extending to the heights and their left on the St. Foye

Montcalm was not aware of the momentous occurrence until the heights had
been occupied in force. His troops were at Beauport, some miles away,
and before they could be brought up to resist the advance of the
invading force the morning was well in progress. As soon as it was known
that the British were making entrenchments, the French general decided
upon an immediate attack to prevent them from strengthening their


Soon after ten o’clock on the bright September morning, Montcalm
advanced impetuously to the charge. Down the ravine the French rushed,
the formation of the ground causing some confusion. They stopped to
re-form within a few hundred yards of the advancing British, but ere
they could climb the hill a frightful volley, hitherto held in reserve,
now wrapped the advancing host in a death-flame that caused terrible
havoc. Montcalm was in the forefront, heroically urging forward his
wavering troops; while Wolfe on the right of the British advance was in
the thick of the deadly fray.

A bullet struck the British general on the wrist. It was hastily bound
with a handkerchief. At the head of the Louisbourg grenadiers he pressed
eagerly forward, when he was struck a second time and dangerously
wounded. His bright uniform made him a mark for every sharpshooter. And
now a bullet entered his breast. He staggered. Alas! the wound was
mortal. “Support me,” he hastily cried, “my brave men must not see me
fall.” He was carried to one side and laid on the grass. “A surgeon!”
cried a grenadier officer. “It is useless,” faintly uttered the gallant
Wolfe, “I am done for.” He was gradually lapsing into unconsciousness.


“They fly,” came eager comments from the sad group surrounding the dying
general. “Who?” quickly uttered Wolfe, arousing himself by one last,
painful effort. “The enemy!” came the glad reply, “they are yielding in
every direction.” Wolfe immediately gave the important order to speed to
the St. Charles River, capture the bridge and thus cut off the enemy’s
retreat. He turned on his side, and, as he murmured, “the Lord be
praised, I die in peace!” his dauntless spirit took its wing, leaving
the dead hero a victor, and the founder of an empire that great then,
and greater now, is yet only in the infancy of its splendid course.

The ‘Great Commoner’ of England, William Pitt, has well said: “The
horror of the night, the precipice scaled by Wolfe, the empire he with a
handful of men added to England, and the glorious catastrophe of
contentedly terminating his life where his fame began ........Ancient
story may be ransacked, and ostentatious philosophy thrown into the
account, before an episode can be found to rank with Wolfe’s.”

On the French side the gallant Montcalm in vain tried to rally his
retreating forces. The path of defeat led him towards the gate of
Saint-Louis, but ere he could enter he was twice wounded. He was
assisted inside, but his injury was soon seen to be mortal. To those
around him weeping the brave Montcalm spoke: “It is nothing, kind
friends; pray do not weep over me.” When told by the attending surgeon
that he had only a few hours to live, he replied, “I am glad of it, I
shall not see the surrender of Quebec.” Before morning his earthly
struggles were over.

Subsequent efforts to retake Quebec from the British failed, and ere
long it was seen that the ‘Battle of the Plains’ was final in its

The monument to Wolfe on the Plains of Abraham is erected where the
great general breathed his last; while the joint memorial to Montcalm
and Wolfe, erected in the Governor’s Garden overlooking Dufferin
Terrace, fittingly marks the great struggle that has joined two races in
one empire of happy union and effort.

As the coming centuries go by, this battle will not only rank equal to
that of Waterloo in importance—it will far surpass it on account of the
momentous bearing it will have on the future of the British Empire and
the progress of the world’s true civilization.


Time passed on, and in the troublous days of the American War of
Independence the much-tried city of Quebec was destined to besiegement
for the fifth time in its history. This time the attack came from New
England; a daring one it must be admitted, for the whole of the
invader’s forces were brought over the Kennebec and Chaudière Rivers in
the face of many obstacles. Arnold and Montgomery, after a siege of two
months, planned to capture the citadel by a bold, surprise attack.

[Illustration: Sous le Fort Street, Quebec]

The defense, however, was an alert one, and when Montgomery advanced
with his force—as he thought, unawares—and was almost within the walls,
a frightful volley was fired in their very faces. This discharge killed
the revolutionary general and many of his followers. The others fled.
Nor was Arnold more successful, although he escaped with his life; a
life that if there ended, like Montgomery’s, would have terminated more
gloriously for the able but misguided American than did his after years.

Many prisoners were taken, the remainder escaped and returned to New
England, and the siege was raised.

Since then no alarm of War has been heard in Old Quebec; and although
the War of 1812 brought suffering to many parts of Canada, none of the
various struggles came nearer than Montreal.

The foregoing outline is intended to provide some knowledge of historic
events as an aid to the appreciation of scenes, incidents and sketches
in connection with people and places that have been prominent in bygone
years. All such details now follow in the description of those parts of
the country to which they properly belong.

One of the first things to claim the visitor’s attention will surely be
the fortifications of the city. Because these are unique and peculiar to
Quebec, not being found elsewhere on the American continent, they
command the greater interest. Leaving out of consideration their many
picturesque features, the fact that they represent in all the glory of
almost perfect preservation a system of defense that is centuries old,
and that here—one of the few such places in the world—we may tread on
the undisturbed spot and in the very streets and houses where great,
stirring events have taken place, gives a never-failing and absorbing
interest to the outer walls and inner places of Old Quebec.

The advent of heavy ordnance on disappearing carriages, or in
wrought-iron turrets, the strength given to concealed batteries through
the use of smokeless gunpowder, the improvement of harbor defense by the
use of mines, torpedoes, submarine boats and electric light, and the
imminent use of aerial explosives; all these have united to sound the
knell of the old style of fortification. The day of the hand-to-hand
conflict has almost gone by, and probably we may never again read of
assault and repulse at outer walls, never hear of the carrying of outer
defenses, of the desperate struggle from one inner defense to the other,
or of the last glorious stand around the colors on the bastion or keep.
No! for man fights now more with brain and eye than with hand. Science
and invention in future will destroy or annihilate the strongest
defenses, and whole armies will walk out and surrender without a blow.
This was so at Metz.


If the old days and ideas are gone, and the picturesque defenses of
moat, rampart, bastion, keep and inner stronghold will never again be
constructed, how important it is that we should admire and enjoy to the
full their splendid survival in Quebec, before the lapse of time and the
inevitable encroachments of modern city life shall destroy these dearly
beloved monuments of the past.

The Citadel, Fortification Walls and Gates of Quebec now invite
examination. Starting from the convenient point where stands Champlain’s
monument, near the Château Frontenac, do not forget that a fort was
first constructed by Champlain on the very spot where the monument now
stands; and that Montmagny replaced the wooden walls of his predecessor
with substantial stone work. Frontenac extended the defensive lines
considerably, and added forts and bastions. Later the fortifications
were again extended and solidified under a comprehensive plan drawn up
by the great Vauban.

Damaged by sieges, and imperfectly repaired from time to time, the
important stronghold was often neglected; but at the end of the
eighteenth century the present works were finished by the English. The
plans were approved by the ‘Iron Duke’ himself, and the construction
cost an enormous sum. The solid stone facings, the batteries behind the
glacis, the loopholed walls that seem strong enough to defy everything
but dynamite, the ditches, gateways, underground passages, magazines,
etc.; and all the accessories of a great defensive system are present.

Even during their first construction by the French so much money had
been required that Louis XIV. once asked if the fortifications of Quebec
were made of gold.

The citadel covers about forty acres, and access to it is gained by the
solid Dalhousie Gate. There is also a great chain gate. The soldiers’
quarters are well protected against gun-fire, and the more important
buildings are bomb-proof. The view from the King’s Bastion is one of the
most beautiful it is possible to imagine. The Royal Canadian Garrison
Artillery have their quarters in the barracks within the citadel. They
muster a strength of from three to four hundred men.

By means of the halyards of the flagstaff on the King’s Bastion, from
which floats the ‘Union Jack,’ two American prisoners once escaped after
they had succeeded in drugging the sentry. The height above the river is
350 feet, and a look over the bastion at the drop below will show the
daring nature of the venture.

Great guns command all the landward approaches. The waterway can also be
swept by powerful cannon, while on the Lévis side of the river are
strong batteries that dominate the river and both shores.

The Governor-General’s residence is on the Citadel Square, and not far
away is the interesting Artillery Museum.

That portion of the defenses known as Grand Battery is at the eastern
end of Dufferin Terrace, on the edge of the cliff that runs from the top
of Mountain Hill towards Palace Gate. Here a number of guns are disposed
in crescent form. In addition to this, and not counting those in the
citadel, the following batteries may be seen: Assembly, Half-Moon, Hope
Gate, Montcalm, Nunnery Nos. 1 and 2, Wolfe’s Grand Battery, and,
finally, two that are smaller and unnamed.

The ponderous old gates that gave security to those within the citadel
walls no longer exist. In French days there were three of these: St.
Louis, St. John and Palace. The two gates added by the British in later
days have also disappeared. These were known as Hope and Prescott Gates.
What a pity that, all five were not allowed to remain as they were! What
an irreparable loss!

Walking around the ramparts and beginning with the picturesque modern
gateway or arch that stands where stood the former gate whose name, St.
Louis, it bears, it will be well to remember that the old gate was
venerable with age. It was built in the year 1694. Through this outlet
sorties must frequently have been made against attacking Iroquois, and
through this gate the brave and dying Montcalm with many of his soldiers
passed into the city after the defeat on the Plains of Abraham. The
handsome arch with its graceful Norman spire, now known as the St. Louis
Gate, is mainly due to the keen interest that Lord Dufferin took in all
that related to the improvement of Quebec.

Proceeding north along the ramparts, Kent Gate is reached. No gate
existed here in olden days, and the cut in the fortifications was made
necessary by the desire for increased traffic facilities. The effect of
the structure is a pleasing one, and considerable interest attaches to
it because it is a memorial to Edward, Duke of Kent, father of Canada’s
well beloved Queen Victoria. Added interest will be found in the fact
that the Princess Louise participated in the perfection of the artistic


Just a short distance north is the site of the old St. John Gate. There
is now neither gate nor arch here, but the portal demolished was as old
as the St. Louis Gate. In Montcalm’s day the old gate swung open to
allow some of his defeated troops to pass in, and it was against this
gate that part of the American effort was directed in the futile attempt
of 1775.

There are no remains of the old gate on the busy Palais thoroughfare
that leads from St. John Street, down towards the River St. Charles, nor
has any memorial tower been erected yet to mark the site. The street
took its name from the palace or residence of the French intendants, and
the ruins of that building may still be seen at the foot of the hill.
The old Palais Gate had many memories attached to it, and it withstood
frequent attacks from besieging foes.

The comparatively modern gates of convenience, Hope and Prescott, have
both been demolished in the demand for unobstructed streets, but it is
proposed to some day mark their sites by suitable memorials. Hope Gate
was on the north side, while the Prescott Gate commanded the steep
Mountain Hill on the eastern water front.

Champlain’s ‘Abitation’ was near the foot of Mountain Hill, but right
out on the water. The place where he landed in 1608, and from which the
founding of Quebec dates, was about two hundred yards to the south-west,
where King’s Wharf now is. Champlain’s Old Fort, stood on the very spot
where now stands the fine monument to his memory as founder of Quebec.

Close by, on the site now occupied by that magnificent hostelry, the
Château Frontenac, once stood the Château St. Louis, in which Champlain,
Frontenac and Carleton successively lived. The cellar of the former
building still remains under the terrace platform. The Old Fort extended
back and included what is now known as the Place d’Armes or Ring.

The old Château St. Louis was once the seat of a power that ruled from
the Mississippi River to the Gulf of St. Lawrence. It was destroyed by
fire in the year 1834, and thus was lost a priceless relic of the past.

The unsurpassed view from Dufferin Terrace and the pretty retreat known
as the Governor’s Garden are the magnets that compel instant admiration
from all comers. Every resident of Quebec is justly proud of the
Dufferin Promenade. It is the very heart of its social and recreational

In a ramble, or by taking a car along the Grande Allée, the martello
towers erected about a hundred years ago may be seen, and a little
further west is the shaft erected to the memory of the immortal Wolfe.
Near these towers there were several fierce struggles when the British
advance came that way—Wolfe lying mortally wounded only about a quarter
of a mile distant.

The monument to Wolfe marks the spot where he died. He received his
fatal wound a few hundred feet nearer the city, but was carried back
here to breathe his last in comparative peace. His body was interred in
the family vault at Greenwich, England, a national memorial of him was
erected in Westminster Abbey, and by special proclamation a day of
thanksgiving for his great victory was appointed throughout the British

It is well worth while to extend the walk west to Wolfesfield, for on
the riverside is Wolfe’s Cove where the British landed in 1759; and the
difficulties of the steep and narrow path up the face of the rocky
height, and the midnight ascension to fame, and death, will come vividly
to mind.

The “Monument aux Braves” on the Ste. Foye Road may be reached by the
St. Louis and Belvedere Roads. Here was fought the Battle of Ste. Foye
between the French and English under De Lévis and Murray respectively.
Murray was defeated. It was a sanguinary conflict, for over four
thousand brave dead are here buried. The struggle brought no advantage
to France; it was evident by this time that the British were too firmly
rooted to release their hold.

A very interesting monument is that to Wolfe and Montcalm in the
Governor’s Garden near the Château Frontenac. The English translation of
the Latin inscription is:

“Valor gave them a common death, history a common fame, and posterity a
common monument.”

This beautiful dedication is surely an evidence of that happy union of
French and British that has resulted in the enlightened and practically
independent Canada of to-day.

The brave Montcalm was buried in the Ursuline Convent, and here may be
seen the French and British monuments to that gallant general.

General Montgomery, who fell in the American attack on Quebec, was
buried in a small enclosure near the ramparts by the St. Louis Gate. The
British consenting, his remains were removed to New York after an
interval of over forty years, and were interred in St. Paul’s Church
there. A tablet with the inscription, ‘Here Montgomery Fell, Dec. 31,
1775,’ now marks the scene of his death. The tablet to ‘Her Old and New
Defenders’ who ‘unitedly guarded and saved Canada’ by defeating Arnold,
should by no means be overlooked. It is placed on the Molson’s Bank near
the Sault-au-Matelot where the barricade then stood that was so ably

The last of Quebec’s great historic monuments is that to Jacques Cartier
on the way to Lake Beauport, to the left of the Charlesbourg Road, and
about a mile from the city. Here the St. Malo navigator wintered in the
year 1535-6, built his first fort, and erected a large cross inscribed
with the name of King Francis I. and bearing the royal arms of that
ruler. Here was also erected a few years later the first Jesuit
monastery of New France.

There yet remain to be seen four monuments of general interest. The
first, that to Queen Victoria in the Victoria Park over the St. Charles
River; the second, to Bishop de Laval near to the Post Office; the
third, on the Grande Allée, to the memory of Short and Wallick, who lost
their lives in the work of checking the great fire of 1889; and the
Soldiers’ or South African Monument, which stands on the Esplanade,
close by the St. Louis Gate.

This last monument was erected by the citizens of Quebec to the young
heroes who lost their lives defending the British flag in the Boer War.
On a tablet is inscribed:

  “Not by the power of commerce, art or pen, shall
    our great Empire stand; nor has it stood,
      but by noble deeds of noble men—
        heroes’ outpoured blood.”

A walk along the Grande Allée, and on St. John and St. Valier Streets
will be rich in interest. Palace Hill, too, and the old streets of St.
Paul and St. Peter are full of character; while in the cluster of
old-town streets, alleys and passageways that extend from below the
eastern ramparts to Little Champlain below Dufferin Terrace, the visitor
will find the quaintest sights the new world has to show. Mountain Hill,
Sous-le-Fort and Sous-le-Cap are streets the like of which may be seen
nowhere out of Quebec. St. Louis Street, the Esplanade and St. Roch’s
will repay close intimacy and examination.

[Illustration: Sous-le-Cap Street, Quebec]

In a ramble that has for its object an inspection of the chief public
and historical buildings of the city, the ruins of the Intendant Bigot’s
old palace claim attention. They are at the foot of Palace Hill and are
now used as ale and porter vaults.

Bigot was a high-placed scamp of the worst description. The times in
which he lived were somewhat loose, but even then he excited much
unfavorable criticism by living with a woman to whom he was not married.
One evening he got drunk, a not infrequent event with him. Stumbling
homewards he lost his way in the woods, where he slumbered away some of
his drunken stupor. Unfortunately for her a pretty French-Algonquin
maiden was passing when he awoke. He saw and admired her, and like more
than one of the royal masters of France he built a bower for his
Caroline in the woodland depths. It is claimed she was his unwilling
prisoner. The Intendant’s pseudo wife soon learned she had a rival
hidden away somewhere. Driven mad by jealousy she stealthily followed
the unsuspecting Bigot and found his retreat. She returned to the city
and said nothing, but soon after that a scream aroused the sleeping
Intendant while spending the night in his sylvan bower. He rushed to
Caroline’s room and found her lying there, murdered, with a knife in her
heart. There are many versions of this terrible affair, and in this
connection the novel of William Kirby is well worth reading.

Over the Post Office there is an effigy known as the ‘Chien d’Or,’ or
‘Golden Dog,’ which has excited much interest on account of its
enigmatical inscription, a translation of which here follows:

  “I am a dog gnawing a bone,
  While I gnaw I take my repose.
  The time will come, though not yet,
  When I will bite him who now bites me.”

The stone tablet bearing this effigy and inscription was originally in
the walls of the old house owned by one Philibert, which house formerly
stood on the post office site. When the old house was demolished, the
tablet was saved and incorporated in the new building. A story of murder
and revenge appears to be connected with the strange inscription, but
like most of the old traditions it is a matter of dispute. Kirby’s
‘Golden Dog’ gives one version that makes interesting reading.

A beautiful maiden of Quebec was nearly the cause of closing the naval
career of the great Nelson. Had it not been for the interposition of a
true friend, the young sailor, who visited here in the _Albemarle_,
man-of-war, at the outset of his great and glorious life, would probably
have been lost to England, and Trafalgar would have been unfought.
Fortunately the insane determination of the young sailor to stay and woo
his _inamorata_, and abandon his ship when it was ordered to India, was
overruled by Davison, his true friend. Whether persuasion or bodily
force brought about the result, after Nelson—having said ‘good-bye’ to
his distinguished and lovely young sweetheart—secretly stole ashore
again, is uncertain. What is known is that he was persuaded to adhere to
his duty—and the world knows the sequel.


The Parliament Buildings are on the Grande Allée, and a splendid view of
the fine pile may be had from almost any point, so well chosen is the
site. From the main tower of the building the grand view of the superb
surroundings should be seen. The interior corridors and chambers are
very attractive, while the bronze groups and heroic figures of the great
in Canadian history, by Hebért, in recesses along the façade are
splendid in conception and execution. There is an excellent library
where valuable archives of olden times are preserved. Americans will be
interested in the two hickory trees sent from General Andrew Jackson’s
old home in Tennessee and which are growing on the Grande Allée to the


Spencer Wood, with its leafy, winding roads and shady avenues, is at the
extreme western end of the city’s suburban extension, not far from
Wolfe’s Cove. The delightful, old roomy mansion to be seen there was
formerly used as a Governor-General’s residence. It is now occupied by
the Lieutenant-Governor of the Province.

The Château Frontenac stands on a site of such prominence, and commands
such a glorious view, that few places in the world may compare with it.
The delightful architectural presentment of all that is picturesque and
graceful in old-time buildings, carries us easily back to the fourteenth
century, and even to prior times. From its turrets, dormers, pierced
towers and hundreds of windows a prospect meets the eye that is
uplifting and irresistible in its appeal to those who love that rare
combination, man’s work at its best and nature in her grandest mood. The
panorama of the great river carrying its proudly floating ships to and
from the ocean, the Lévis shore, the citadel, the terrace with its
ever-varying throngs, the old town away below in the giddy depths, the
mountains, the distant country dotted with its white houses, the fleecy
clouds, the shimmering haze and the far away perspective of varied
beauty; all these make a picture upon which the gaze may be intently
turned, without weariness, again and again.

As is befitting, the plan of the structure is irregular, and, in the
olden way, the principal entrance is through an interior court of
considerable size. The Château is built of Scottish brick and grey
stone, roofed with copper. Over the main entrance is a shield bearing
the arms of Frontenac who lived in the old Château St. Louis—as did
Champlain and others—that stood on this very site. In plan it is more
homelike and comfortable than the usual palatial hotel, and there is an
absence of the customary annoying rush, public promenading in corridors,
etc., found in the large hostelries of the American continent. In fact
the general plan is that of a sumptuous and princely castle-mansion of
olden times, sufficiently modernized to give all necessary comforts for
those who stay here. The interior decorations, panel effects,
tapestries, heraldic and symbolic ornamentations, and the artistic
furnishings will commend themselves to all. There is so much to be seen,
that all visitors to Quebec should introduce themselves to the courteous
management and take the opportunity of making a thorough examination of
the Château interior. Do not hurry; avoid the modern detestable rush and
indigestion of sights, scenes and ideas. Make a preliminary tour of all
public places in the building, and then go through it at leisure, making
notes of all the numerous features that in themselves, alone, are an

Laval University is famous for its treasures of art and splendid
library. It has a fine picture gallery and museums. A beautiful and
extended view of the surrounding country may be had from the promenade
on the roof of the building. In the smaller seminary adjoining were
confined the American officers who were taken prisoners at the time of
Arnold and Montgomery’s attack on Quebec in 1775. The buildings contain
many things of interest for the general visitor, and here a whole day
may profitably be spent.

The Ursuline Convent, Hotel Dieu, and Cardinal’s Palace are also places
of great interest. In the chapel of the convent the remains of the brave
Montcalm are interred. Here may be seen the monument erected to his
memory, bearing an inscription prepared by the French Academy. A second
memorial, erected by Lord Aylmer, has an inscription of which the
translation reads:

                          “Honor to Montcalm!
                    Fate in depriving Him of Victory
                   Rewarded Him by a Glorious Death!”

The Hotel Dieu, or hospital, is the oldest institution of the kind in
all America. It was founded in 1689 by the Duchess d’Aguillon, who was a
niece of the great Cardinal Richelieu. Some of the oldest houses in
Canada originally stood in this locality. The Hotel Dieu contains some
very excellent paintings and valuable relics of the early Jesuit
missionaries who were martyred by the Indians. While in Quebec read the
story of this terrible martyrdom, and learn what incredible suffering
was endured by those brave men who assisted in opening up the heritage
we now enjoy so complacently.

The Cardinal’s Palace at the crest of Mountain Hill Street is worthy of
a visit to inspect its fine apartments and reception chamber.

The English Cathedral and the Basilica are the two principal churches of
the city, although there are, of course, many other churches well worthy
of a visit. On the site where now stands the English Cathedral formerly
stood the ancient church and convent of the Recollêt Fathers. The last
survivor was pensioned by the British Government. He was well known for
his wit. It is recorded that he was once asked if he knew that a priest
had arrived in town who was noted for his appreciation of the good
things of the table, but who, ever ready to be a guest, never
entertained others. The good old Father replied. “I saw him to-day,
‘going about seeking whom he may devour.’”

The Cathedral contains splendid monuments, a fine chancel window and a
silver communion service of exquisite design and superior workmanship.
It was a present from King George III. What is frequently seen in
Europe, but rarely in America, is the decoration of a church interior
with old battle-torn regimental flags, and here the former colors of the
69th British regiment are draped over the chancel. In the Cathedral
enclosures once stood a precious elm under which Jacques Cartier is
believed to have assembled his followers on their first arrival in this
part of Canada. It was blown down over a half-century ago. The treasures
contained in the Cathedral will be appreciated by all who wish to
understand Quebec and its past.

The Basilica is venerable with age, dating back to the year 1647. Two
years previous to that, twelve hundred and fifty beaver skins had been
set aside to commence a fund for the building of this Cathedral.
Although it has suffered much from fire and siege, the foundations and
parts of the walls are those of two-and-a-half centuries ago.
Champlain’s ‘Chapelle de la Recouvrance’ was in the rear of the
Basilica, and traces of its walls are still visible. The edifice
contains many beautiful paintings and it is also rich in memorials of
great historic value. In fact many of the works of art seen here are
almost priceless. Rare gifts from the ‘Grand Monarch,’ Louis XIV. may
here be seen; and the building contains enough of interest to occupy a
good portion of a rainy day.


Many pleasant spots are in the immediate neighborhood of Quebec, and
some that are also intimately connected with events of the past. A drive
through the pretty village of Charlesbourg and beyond, and some four
miles east, may terminate at the ruins of the Château Bigot, known as
Beaumanoir, and also called the ‘Hermitage.’ It was here the tragedy in
connection with the beautiful maiden of French and Algonquin extraction
took place; for it will be remembered that this was the woodland bower
or country house of the infamous Intendant Bigot whose city residence
was the palace at the foot of Palais Hill. The building was originally a
very extensive one, with many secret passages. Until within recent years
the burial place of poor Caroline was marked with a flat stone that had
the letter ‘C’ chiselled on it.


Indian Lorette may be reached by carriage, or by a short run on the
Quebec and Lake St. John Railway. The country through Charlesbourg is
very pretty, mountainous and splendidly wooded. There is a grand fall of
water at the Indian village where the Lorette courses along a romantic
bed and dashes madly through wild and rocky gorges. Huge masses of stone
have fallen from the cliffs, and in places small trees have gained a
foothold on the apparently bare tops of these rocks. They often assume
odd forms, and particularly so when they grow sidewise from the
perpendicular clefts in the face of the rocky banks. The bottom of the
gorge is rugged and striking. Huge table rocks slant upwards, and the
torrents of water dashing against them rear up and pass over or around
the obstructions. The volume of water precipitated over the fall is very
great, and the whole scene as the eye follows the river bed is most
striking. It is a novel experience to stand or sit on a ledge fronted by
a huge boulder in the middle of the narrow channel or gorge. The Lorette
gaining here in depth rushes down with great force, and as the river is
deflected it rises up a seething pillar of water, so that, at only
arm’s-length the curious sight may be viewed. Nearly everyone feels the
fascination of a waterfall like this, with its ever-changing form and
merry, boisterous song. The romantic descent into the ravine is
something to be remembered—nothing could be wilder or so touched with
Nature’s art. Just above the village is the Château d’Eau, from in front
of which the water is conveyed by conduits to Quebec. The scenery on the
river above the Château is charming, and a boat or canoe trip may be
taken to Lake St. Charles through a most delightful sylvan country.


The Hurons live in the Indian village. They are industrious and
peaceable, carrying on the manufacture of snowshoes, moccasins, and
basket work, etc. In the height of the summer a good number migrate to
the populous resorts of Murray Bay and the Lower St. Lawrence.

There is a fine view to be obtained by going up the eminence on which
stands the attractive French village of Lorette.

Lakes St. Charles and Beauport, the Jacques Cartier River, Lake St.
Joseph, and the river Ste. Anne are all delightful objectives, and they
are within convenient reach of the city.

Quebec is fortunate in the possession of beautiful environs, and at
Montmorency Falls there is a spectacle of grandeur that in itself is
worthy of a pilgrimage of hundreds of miles to behold. Montmorency is
about eight miles from the city, and it may be reached by carriage over
the St. Charles River and by way of Beauport, or by the electric
railway. The cataract has a fall of over 250 feet. The roar of the
waters, the fascination of the billowy masses of white foam, and the
rainbow-like play of colors in the dashing spray all hold the spectator
spellbound. A fine general view is obtained from the station of the
electric railway; but no adequate conception of the real grandeur of the
sight may be formed until the view is taken from the observation
platforms. A full descent should be made to the bottom of the steps that
have been provided, and the view should be seen from the upper platforms
or terraces as well.

The piers of the old suspension bridge are still standing near the brink
of the falls. The bridge gave way and swept to destruction a farmer and
his family who were driving across at the time.

Another good view of the falls may be obtained by crossing the
Montmorency Bridge to the park on the eastern side of the river.

The natural steps in the solid rock of the river bed, about a mile above
the falls, are no longer visible since the height of the river at that
point has been much increased by the dam below. They were hewn out by
the action of the rushing water of past centuries. While they were
visible thousands of people were attracted there to wonder over the
strange sight. The Fairy River nearby should also be seen, and a walk
through the fields to the power-house will bring a reward in the grand
view of towering rocky banks and the bridal-veil of water that falls
over the height.

[Illustration: STE. ANNE DE BEAUPRÉ]

  1. Main Street
  2. Pilgrims Buying Relics
  3. Church of Ste. Anne de Beaupré
  4. Waterworks at Lorette
  5. Ste. Anne River


Near where Montmorency village stands was fought the first battle
between Montcalm and Wolfe, this engagement being the prelude to the
great attack on Quebec that resulted in the death of both illustrious
generals and the permanent addition of Canada to the British Empire.

Governor Haldimand’s fine old mansion, the Kent House, where the Duke of
Kent once lived, is now a delightful hostelry of that ideal kind where a
semblance of home life may be enjoyed amidst restful and picturesque
surroundings. There is a glorious view in every direction from the
breezy highlands, and no one should miss the picture of Quebec seen from
this vantage ground.

The Falls of Montmorency have not the breadth or extent of the
celebrated Falls of Niagara. Their height, however, is much greater; and
the rural and picturesque environment, as well as the graceful and lofty
character of the waterfall, combine in a splendid prospect that has no
equal anywhere.

Of the pleasant recreations in and about Montmorency, the Zoological
Gardens maintained by Holt, Renfrew & Co., of Quebec, afford
never-ending occupation for young and old alike. The numerous animals,
etc., are well arranged for purposes of observation, and the interesting
collection shows animal life in a way that is sure to bring many hours
of enjoyment to those who ramble along the pleasant paths that have been
laid out in various directions.

Everyone has heard of Ste. Anne de Beaupré, the quaint and medieval
village, some twenty miles from Quebec, where the celebrated Church of
La Bonne Ste. Anne is situated to which pilgrimages are ever being made
by the faithful, and which is so full of interest and local color for
those who merely go there to enjoy a pleasant excursion.

If an early riser, it is a good plan to take the electric limited train,
known as the “Fast Pilgrimage,” at 6 a.m. This train stops first at the
Church of La Bonne Ste. Anne and discharges nearly everyone of its
passengers at the pretty little park-station in front of the church. The
train then runs on a few hundred yards to the village of Ste. Anne de
Beaupré, where that particular run terminates. Those who go to worship
will, of course, pass into the church at once in time for the early
mass. As they do so they will not fail to notice that nearly every
passenger goes direct to the church. One or two sightseers—for the hour
is early—will saunter about and enjoy the delightful air and very
foreign surroundings to pass away the time before having a country
breakfast at one of the numerous hostelries with which the neighborhood
is provided.

The Church of Ste. Anne presents a fine appearance, both within and
without. The style of architecture is very pleasing, and the church
stands in the midst of beautiful and well-kept surroundings. The
interior, with many quaint decorations and numerous little chapels, is
especially interesting, while a never-failing attraction for all is the
huge pile of crutches and other appurtenances of bodily suffering or
infirmity that have been thrown away by their happy owners who, it is
stated, were miraculously cured here after making their devotions at the
shrine of the celebrated Ste. Anne.

There is so much that is novel to be seen here—indeed it is the only
place of the kind in the whole continent—so much beauty in the
surroundings, and so much of the grandeur of nature everywhere, that he
whose heart is not actively stirred must be too dead and inert for the
wonderful appeal to move him.

With no stretch of the imagination the district may be called American
Alpine, and almost equal to the Swiss Alps in real interest. In fact
this is an older civilization, and all the accessories of race, customs
and manners, and country lend themselves naturally to the production of
the strangest effects. What quaint narrow streets are here; and see the
overhanging balconies at almost every story of the foreign-looking
houses that are placed at the foot of the steep hills, nestling close to


Almost every building in the village is a hotel, restaurant, or store
for the sale of relics, curios, novelties and souvenirs. Everything
contributes to the general _fete_ or holiday-like appearance of the

In addition to the constant stream of visitors coming from Quebec, etc.,
by electric trains, special trains arrive at Lévis and Quebec that come
from all parts of the provinces, quite frequently. Sometimes as many as
four and five trainloads will be here in one day—all brought out to the
church by the comfortable electric cars.

There is no better way of seeing the beautiful valley of Beaupré than by
walking from the Church of Ste. Anne to the village of St. Joachim, a
distance of something less than five miles. The high mountain-sides are
liberally wooded with noble trees to near the roadway, where banks that
are clear of wood slope more gradually, and not too steep to climb with
a little effort. The daisies are so profuse in many places that the
effect is nearly like that of a snowstorm. Particularly so where the
young orchard is springing up, the spaces between the rows of trees
being quite white.

No country could be richer in waterfalls of all sizes, from the
precipitous and mighty fall of Montmorency down to the dashing cascade
that starts out from the mountain side. In some places they may be heard
but not seen, until in looking beyond the road a tiny stream is seen to
be making riverwards, and further examination reveals a charming fall in
some leafy copse on the other side of the road. The tones of these
waterfalls, cascades, rivulets and springs are musical, grateful and
soothing to ear and spirit beyond the power of words to describe; while
the water, sparkling and clear, is pure and refreshing to the thirsty

Wildflowers are very prolific, sweet-scented and a constant joy to the


  “In the cool and quiet nooks,
    By the side of running brooks;
  In the forest’s green retreat,
    With the branches overhead—”

will be found the iris, violet, trillium, water lily, and, at times,
delicately colored orchids; while crowning the neat white fence of many
a humble cottage festoons of trailing roses gladden the way.

There is a pleasant walk at Château Richer, up to the mill by the bend
of the rippling Rivière à la Puce. The still water above, the dark shade
and the peaceful calm, all repay the little _detour_ necessary to visit
this charming spot. This is surely the land of the waterfall, for the
falls of St. Fereol, Ste. Anne, Seven Falls and the fall of La Puce are
all romantic and wonderfully picturesque. Though difficult of access,
they are like hidden jewels—well worth the effort necessary to reach


So precipitous are the mountain heights hereabouts, and so well wooded,
that although there are houses on the very brinks above the roadways,
nothing can be seen of many of them from below save chimney tops and
curling wreaths of smoke. A near view of the chimneys shows them to be
of generous size, and in appearance like the old-fashioned stoves or
ranges with the lids off—the orifices, however, being oblong, and not

Bake-ovens of huge proportions are often found in the gardens, under the
protection of a few boards to give shelter to the cook from rain and
sunshine. Owing to frequent subdivisions of the farms, as sons grew up
and had a strip allotted to them by their fathers, some of the fields
are so narrow that there is barely room to allow a horse and plough to

All along the road the prevailing feature is the Alpine-like scenery,
the towering heights and the white houses nestling in the mountain side
at dizzy heights. Many houses are approached from the road by steps and
a narrow walk between two habitations. On the next rise the same rule
prevails, and so on up to the highest point. There is seldom an attempt
at a hill-side street—it would be useless, because impossible to ascend
without steps. A substitute for steps, however, is sometimes found in a
sloping pathway that passes obliquely from the front of one house to the
rear of the next, and so on until it reaches the top.

The old manner of laying out or planning a house still prevails. The
kitchen generally runs the whole length and breadth of the house—often a
kind of half-basement effect is seen, open in front on the road, but
closed entirely by the hill behind. Here cooking, washing, spinning,
sewing and the general household work of the industrious _habitants_ is
carried on, and here is where dinner is generally served. The whole
activity of indoor life centres here; and so much was this the case in
one house that a dog and five puppies occupied the hearthstone, a cat
sat in the window nipping the green leaves of a plant, and a playful pet
lamb frisked about unrebuked while four people were in the midst of
preparations for serving the dinner. The houses are generally of
substantial construction, and capacious barns are a noticeable feature
in passing along the country side.

[Illustration: Montmorency Falls]

[Illustration: Riviere Ste. Anne]

A favorite trip for those living or staying in Quebec is that on the
ferry steamers to the Isle of Orleans, originally called _Isle de
Bacchus_ by Jacques Cartier on account of the rich clusters of grapes
that lined its shores when he cast anchor near. The island was occupied
by Wolfe at the time of the fall of Quebec. There are many summer
residences here, and it is a favorite place in summer for many who like
to enjoy the cool river breezes.


The Falls of the Chaudière, not far from the railway junction of that
name, should be seen by everyone coming anywhere near this locality.
They are within easy reach of Quebec by steamboat or railway, being only
about nine miles from the city.

The river has a considerable width and falls gently over the dam in a
long line of silver. Passing then towards its lower channel it falls
beautifully in two, and sometimes three, cascades into the depths below.
There is a great volume of water in motion, and the swelling sound of
the roaring and foaming plunge makes pleasant music. A climb down into
the deep channel is very novel, and the additional views thus obtained
are quite striking. Here is slate enough to supply schoolboys the world
over for many a century to come. There is a good foothold, when once in
the river bed, on the inclined and shelving stratification; and by going
to the edge of the principal fall, the war of waters against rock may be
seen in all its intensity, and, in addition, the seething depths below
will cause a shudder as the full meaning of the word Chaudière, “the
cauldron,” comes to mind.

The country is beautiful and well wooded. There is a charm in the whole
view when seen from the high bank from under the shade of the noble
trees: it can never be forgotten. Enough has not been made of this
district and all that it contains. It has been overlooked in the wealth
of beauty that surrounds Quebec. It is so easily reached from either
Quebec or Lévis that everyone should include the Chaudière in their
round of beautiful sights. Nothing could be more enjoyable on a fine day
than to take a luncheon and enjoy a picnic in the fine woods by these
famous falls.

It was by the valley of the Chaudière that Montgomery came from New
England when he made his disastrous attempt on Quebec.

Instead of returning to Quebec by steamer or railroad, the electric car
to St. Romuald and Lévis may be taken. The Church of St. Romuald is one
of the most important on the whole St. Lawrence River. It has some
magnificent paintings, fine altars and choice wood carving.

As the car speeds along, the freshness of the verdure and the bright
gold of the buttercups will call for notice. It would be impossible to
toss a cent out of the window without causing it to lodge in one of
those gorgeous yellow cups. Nature asserts her sway over man’s inroads,
for the railway embankments are covered with beautiful _parterres_ of
purple, white, yellow, and blue blooms, with here and there a cluster of
rich, wild lupine. No more beautiful country could be found, and the
view of the great St. Lawrence, the village-capped heights, the gentle
sloping mounds nestling for protection under the shelter of the high
mountain chain, and the romantic cuttings through the chain of hills
nearby—all these make a strong appeal to lovers of the beautiful. The
little river running off to the south-east is the Etchemin, and in it
there is a pretty waterfall.

[Illustration: Scenes in the Militia Camp at Lévis]

From the opposite shore of Lévis one of the finest views of Quebec may
be had. In fact, for miles up and down the south shore some of the
grandest standpoints for extensive views may be found. The massive forts
at Lévis, auxiliary to the fortifications of Quebec in the general
scheme of defence, are worth seeing. It was from the Lévis heights that
Wolfe’s artillery destroyed Quebec previous to its capture. The three
solid structures that now constitute a strong line of defence are said
to be very similar to the celebrated forts of Cherbourg. The Government
Graving Dock is well worth a visit, especially at a time when a large
vessel is docked there; for by descending the steps, walking along the
bottom and then looking up at the great mass above, some adequate idea
may be formed of the huge proportions of the modern “leviathan of the

Too much cannot be said of the grandeur of scene, the beautiful wood and
dale, and the extensive panorama of country to be viewed from the
vicinity of the Engineer’s Camp at St. Joseph de Lévis. The
characteristic and charming view of the Montmorency Falls, with the
beautiful St. Lawrence in the foreground, should be seen by everyone.

A military camp for general drill and evolutions is held here every
summer, and in an amphitheatre of finely-wooded hills and gentle slopes
running down to an almost level campus or plain, the citizen soldiers
have ample room for comfortable quarters and extensive operations.

On a recent occasion six regiments of militia were encamped here, the
17th, 18th, 61st, 87th, 89th and 92nd. No better spot for the purpose
could well be imagined. The tents on the slopes, open at the side for
the air, and disclosing tastefully-grouped flags and other interior
decorations, were all well placed to take advantage of shade and other
natural advantages. In the officers’ quarters were mess tables
comfortably placed in an annex or wing. The tents of the men gradually
reaching down and on to the margin of the plain, the groups amusing
themselves, preparing for the afternoon muster, fixing and cooking
rations, etc.; and the orderlies and others passing from group to group
all made a busy picture. An impromptu concert was in progress on a shady
knoll where an artist on the accordeon was sweeping the air in long
curves as he sent music in every direction. Men were playing quoits, or
reading books and writing letters under the cool shade of the maple
trees. The post office at the entrance of the encampment, the sentinel,
the quarters of the staff below, the clean hospital, and, at the foot,
the view of the broad St. Lawrence with its receding background of bold
mountains, all made the scene a stirring and well-remembered one.

[Illustration: Group of Officers, Militia Camp, Lévis]

The energetic Colonel-Commander and his efficient aides had plenty of
work before them in conducting the evolutions, and the men—many of whom
were doubtless in camp for the first time—did very well indeed. And now
the band formed, some regiments closed up their ranks, formed columns
and marched off up the slope for skirmishing and outpost drill; while
lower down other troops going through manual drill sent gleams of light
from their gun barrels into the dark fir trees as the sun’s rays were
deflected with brilliant effect. That persistent waving of flags on
yonder distant knoll has its explanation in the corresponding signals
that are being transmitted across the width of the broad amphitheatre
from the edge of a clump of maples just behind us.

Colors were to be presented to one of the regiments, and a preliminary
drill was being held for that occasion on the morrow. The ceremony, a
very impressive one, takes place in the centre of a hollow square, the
troops facing in; and to the imposing and patriotic strains of the
national anthem the colors are unfurled.

To write that a peregrination through this whole country is beautiful
and inspiring is to feebly express the charm of it all. The pleasure,
too, of spending a day in the field with our citizen soldiery in the
midst of such magnificent and heart-stirring scenery is great; and it
brings a satisfaction and uplift to the mind that should cause thousands
to visit this neighborhood.

Those who sojourn in Quebec, whether for weeks or months, will find no
want of varied amusements. There are walks too numerous to mention where
wild flower, the song of the bird and the music of the gushing rill and
rocky fall enliven every step of the way. Boating may be carried on
almost everywhere, and canoes may be placed on dozens of waters that are
either quiet or rippling; according to choice. The interior lands of
this district are the very best for hunting purposes; and many of the
larger rivers are splendid salmon waters. In all of the surrounding
streams and in the pure waters of the adjacent lakes lovers of trout
fishing will find ample occupation and unstinted reward. Motor-boating,
automobiling, golf, tennis, and all the sports of the field may be
enjoyed here to their full; while as a centre or starting place for
railroad and steamboat trips and tours in every direction Quebec
assuredly takes first place.


[Illustration: Murray Bay River]

               _Summer Resorts of the Lower St. Lawrence_


From the town of St. Croix, west of Quebec, where the river is three
miles wide, to Sillery Cove and the outlet of the Chaudière, the St.
Lawrence gradually narrows to a width of less than one mile. After
passing Quebec, however, and through the double channel that includes
the Isle of Orleans, it broadens considerably, until opposite Baie St.
Paul the great river has a width of over sixteen miles. Where the
Saguenay empties it is eighteen miles across, at Little Metis it is over
thirty-six miles, and finally to the west of Anticosti, where it meets
the waters of the Gulf, it has a breadth of over one hundred miles.

The St. Lawrence carries an amount of water to the ocean that is
exceeded by no other river on the globe save the Amazon. Its tributaries
are all clear trout and salmon streams, and no water system can compare
with it for purity. It has well been said that “Its waters shake the
earth at Niagara; and the Great Lakes are its camping grounds, where its
hosts repose under the sun and stars in areas like that of states and

Long before it reaches the end of its course the river has become as
saline as the sea, its tide like that of the ocean, its atmosphere about
as breezy as that of the open Atlantic; and in the various resorts that
are found on both shores—but principally or altogether on the south
shore after easting from Tadousac and Les Escoumains—considerable
variety of climate will be found.

From Quebec to Cape Breton, and Baie des Chaleurs to Halifax a
geographical quadrangle is bounded that includes a diversity of scene
and climate, and range of temperature, that cannot be found elsewhere;
and this great variety of climatic condition enables the Canadian
Government Railways to provide on its own system congenial places to
meet requirements that are widely different in character.

The whole area of Eastern Quebec and the Maritime Provinces is much
cooler than the New England States, and cooler also than Ontario and the
West. It will be understood that Eastern Quebec is cooler than Western,
and that a still cooler climate than that found in Eastern Quebec is
obtained by going to the Atlantic Seaboard on the east side of Cape
Breton or Nova Scotia. East and South-East New Brunswick are cooler
parts than North, and North-West and West. Prince Edward Island occupies
a middle ground in temperature between Quebec and Cape Breton or Eastern
Nova Scotia; while in Cape Breton and Nova Scotia themselves the eastern
or Atlantic front is cooler than the western or protected side.

In considering summer resorts the matter of climate and temperature is
very important. What will suit one will not satisfy another. The broad
and just statement may therefore be made that differences in temperature
between various parts of the Maritime Provinces are more equalized after
sundown. At night it is cool everywhere. Compared with the country to
the south and west it is cool in any part of the Maritime Provinces,
even at high noon. In the east the thermometer cannot rise high because
of the cooling sea breezes. The temperature in the west is therefore a
few degrees higher, and on that account the western and middle parts are
often preferred by those unaccustomed to the bracing sea air of the open
Atlantic coast.

The St. Lawrence in its progress oceanwards passes many a fair island on
its way. Some of the most charming views may be obtained on and from
these islands, and many of them are choice spots for picnic and
camping-out parties. The most of these islands will be found opposite
such places as Montmagny, Cap St. Ignace, L’Islet, Baie St. Paul, St.
Alexandre de Kamouraska, Rivière du Loup, Isle Verte, Trois Pistoles and
Bic, etc.

  “I love to gaze upon those river isles,
  Where beauty sleeps, and blooming verdure smiles;
  Or view the nodding ships with swelling sails,
  Borne onward by the tide and gentle gales;
  Those winds that bring the vessel’d stores of wealth
  Bear on their wings the healing balm of health.”


Proceeding east over the Intercolonial Railway along the south shore we
pass in turn the prosperous towns of Montmagny, Cap St. Ignace, L’Islet,
St. Jean Port Joli and Ste. Anne de la Pocatière opposite Baie St. Paul
and the Isle au Coudres. Montmagny is fairly near the railway station,
but the other places are on the river front and a drive of a mile or two
is necessary from each station to reach a town.

Baie St. Paul, on the north shore, is a place of call for the St.
Lawrence steamboats, and is within easy reach of Quebec. In a country
where the grandeur of nature is visible on every hand, it is difficult
to do justice to all the beautiful sights without seeming to overpraise
them. And yet in this romantic little resort is a wealth of beauty that
must be seen if all that is lovely in nature is not to be slighted. It
is French through and through, and therefore delightful. Looking up the
valleys of the two rivers, Gouffre and Moulin, there is a fine view of a
mountain range that fades away in the far distance in different shades
of blue. Following the rapid course of the Gouffre there is a road from
which many charming views may be seen. The beautiful groves of trees,
the bright cottages, and the water falling over the precipice in long,
silvery bands are pleasant features of the landscape. There is a grand
view from the top of Cap au Corbeau, after the birds that make this
place their haunt have been frightened away. It was off Les Eboulements
that Jacques Cartier’s three little vessels, the _Grande Hermine_,
_Petite Hermine_ and _Emerillon_, anchored in the bay, near the end of
Isle aux Coudres, when he made his second voyage to the West.

Isle aux Coudres is even more French than Baie St. Paul. Here Jacques
Cartier landed on his second voyage to New France. He gave to the island
the name it has since retained, a name derived from the numerous hazel
trees he found here. It is recorded that in 1663 a mountain was lifted
by an earthquake and cast bodily over the water on to this island. It
was thus made much larger than before. At present the inhabitants are
content with their acreage, and have no desire for further additions of
this kind. A survival of the old Norman life is here, and for this and
the view of island and mainland it is worth a visit. Small white whales
are often caught near here in great abundance.


A quartette of famous north-shore resorts is brought within pleasant
reach by the Canadian Government Steamship _Champlain_. There is a hotel
here where people from nearby places stay in the summer time to enjoy
the cool river air. The steamship _Champlain_ leaves the wharf twice
daily for north-shore resorts, making connection on its return with
trains going east and west each morning and afternoon. On Sundays the
boat goes to and returns from Pointe à Pic only, but as the other
resorts are only a few miles from that place, it is easy to reach them
by carriage. Stopping at Rivière Ouelle Junction, taking the train there
to the wharf and boarding the smart river steamship, an enjoyable run of
about sixteen miles brings up at St. Irénée, from which place the
_Champlain_ passes on eastward to Pointe à Pic and Murray Bay, and
thence to Cap à l’Aigle. On alternate trips the order of calls is
reversed; the _Champlain_ proceeding first to Cap à l’Aigle and then
going west calls in inverse order at the other points.

The four resorts are entirely different in character, and to some extent
in scenery. The name Murray Bay is frequently applied to the whole
district reaching from Pointe à Pic to Murray Bay, a distance of about
three miles. This causes some confusion in addressing and receiving
letters, and it is well to remember that the steamboat landing is at
Pointe à Pic, that the Manoir Richelieu, most of the hotels, and the
heart of the resort, all within easy driving distance of the wharf, are
included in the Pointe à Pic postal district; while the name Murray Bay
properly belongs to the postal district surrounding the old village on
the Murray Bay River some three miles distant.

Pointe à Pic is a beautiful summer resort much in favor with wealthy
people. It is decidedly fashionable in its general tone, and there are
many handsome residences and bungalows on the heights and down along the
cliffs and sloping fields of the Bay shore. Carriage-driving, tennis,
golf and boating are the chief amusements. Murray Bay, by which is meant
the old French village near the river bridge, is a quaint place, less
fashionable, much more compact and town-like, and where the
hotels—smaller and not so expensive as those at Pointe à Pic—are in the
midst of the busy little main street, but within a stone’s throw of the
open country on both sides of the river. St. Irénée is smaller and
quieter than either of the foregoing places. It is about six miles south
of Pointe à Pic. Here a delightful life may be enjoyed at a quiet family
hotel right on the beach, in the midst of a charming country side for
walks and rambles. Cap à l’Aigle is the quietest resort of all. It is
about three miles east of Murray Bay. There are no hotels, but the roomy
farm houses on the cliffs have been adapted for the reception of
visitors, and the summer life is altogether rural and free from
fashion’s trammels.

[Illustration: ST. IRÉNÉE]

  1. Habitant’s House
  2. Where the Brook Meets the Tide

Pointe à Pic is gay, lively and fashionable; Murray Bay, town-like and
not lonely; St. Irénée, a beach resort for quiet people who take with
them their own amusements; while Cap à l’Aigle is suited for those who
like farm and country life, with good air and walks along the cliffs and
through country fields. Pointe à Pic and Murray Bay are nearly
connected; and as St. Irénée and Cap à l’Aigle are just a few miles
south and east, there is plenty of occupation, even for those who live
in the quiet outer resorts; for the St. Lawrence steamboats call at all
the wharves, and it is easy to go from one place to the other by
steamer, as well as by carriage. Summer costumes from nearly every part
of the world make gay the long wharf at Pointe à Pic, and with the
hundreds of carriages drawn up for the reception of visitors and guests
arriving by steamer the scene is animating, lively and full of interest.

The scenery of St. Irénée is very fine. The shore is green and fresh.
There are no unsightly landslides, and no bare rock. The elevation is a
bold one, with high mountains behind fading into grey and blue. The
gentle-sloping shore dotted with white cottages runs to a point at the
south that is shaped like the bastion of a fort. The shore is of rock
and gravel, with sand in some places. A stone road extends along the
shore and makes a pleasant promenade. A short distance from the wharf,
north and south—in fact directly at the wharf—is the open country where
the _habitants_ still live the simple life of other days. St. Irénée is
essentially a summer place—there is neither town nor village. The main
road to Pointe à Pic makes a very enjoyable course for a country ramble,
as it abounds in by-roads and quiet paths that lead through hill and
dale where may be heard the merry music of many a dashing cascade and
sprightly rill. The bungalows are all prettily placed at varying
heights—always in choice spots that command a direct view of the water
and shore. There is no obtruding village life, and no place where
‘shopping’ may be done. All the signs of life are contributed by the
summer residents. There is little or no formality. Ladies and children
lounge on the hotel piazza, saunter along the hillside and country
roads, or form sociable groups on the shore as they do fancy-work and
sewing, or write letters—the children taking their fill of pleasure from
the shore with spade and pail.

A few tied-up schooners float lazily at the wharf, awaiting their next
period of activity. River steamboats between Quebec, Murray Bay and
Tadousac call here, and it is also a port of call for the Government
Steamship _Champlain_.


The pleasant residences of the Forget family are prominent on the
shelving hillside. The balustraded promenade, high up, with its
projecting bastion or observation terrace, its garden, walks, seats and
prettily arranged grounds, is a delightful point from which to enjoy a
commanding view of the shore, the wharf and the broad vista of waters. A
short walk from each end of the main or shore promenade brings out at
little hamlets or groupings of cottages of the native residents. They
present many points of interest for visitors, and pleasant rambles may
thus be enjoyed by those who would see how quaint a life the people of
remote parts in this province still enjoy.

A short distance to the north of the wharf there is a fine stretch of
clean sand, backed by rocks and turf. There are generally low piles of
newly-sawn lumber, stacked up near the wharf end of this beach, where
children may have jolly times playing ‘hide-and-seek,’ or climbing and
building houses on the shore from drift-wood, ‘ends’ and cuttings. A
walk of but half a mile leads to the attractive little stream that here
falls into the St. Lawrence, and meets real waves as it plunges into its
seaward goal. Across the little stream the stray logs that have
grounded, the rocks, the cottages on the hill, the rustling trees, the
soaring height of the near-hills, the bright green of the small point,
the darker green of the great cape beyond, the dim outline of the
far-away mountain range and the broad stretch of cool waters dotted with
gracefully floating vessels; all these make ideal summer surroundings.
It is a pleasant spot. A great charm for many will be the simplicity of
all, unspoiled by crowds—fashion left out. Children may here realize all
the joys of early youth; and adults, as they rest on the beach, will
live over again the joyous days of the care-free long ago. Few who roam
the delightful strand would know it was not the seashore. It is salt
water, of course; and it may be called an inner sea without the decided
range of temperature experienced on the open Atlantic coast.

Pointe à Pic (Murray Bay, South) is known the world over for its
magnificent landscapes and the rugged grandeur of the scenery with which
nature has endowed it. Precipice, gorge and cloud-capped peaks are
everywhere, and the general view, Alpine, Scottish and wild, is superb.

[Illustration: Cape Blanc, Murray Bay]

Champlain called here, and it was he who named it Malbaie on account of
its rapid tide. The native French still use that name; for the words
Murray Bay are difficult to pronounce, and when they do use this name it
sounds like Mooriebay with a long ‘Moore’ and a short ‘bay.’ Pointe à
Pic, on the other hand, rolls off their tongues with a delightful
piquancy; no wonder they prefer to use it.

There is fishing, boating, sailing and bathing of a very enjoyable kind.
Aquatic life has not been developed as much as it should have been with
so many choice privileges right at hand. Carriage driving, tennis, and,
particularly, golf are supreme. Perhaps this is not to be wondered at
when the splendid and inexhaustible drives the neighborhood affords are
considered; and the golf links are so beautiful and in such a splendid
situation that the popularity of this healthful recreation is easily

There are hundreds of pleasant cottages, many spacious bungalows and not
a few country mansions. These are dotted in long picturesque lines by
the shore of the Bay and on the cliffs that follow the bend of the
water. These houses are to the right and left of the long road that runs
from Point à Pic to the bridge at Murray Bay River, on which street or
roadway the village houses, rented cottages and some of the hotels are
placed. Many of the bungalows have charming situations right on the
water, with pleasant gardens and decorative stone walls between main
road and shore. Others are embowered in the hilly land that follows the
contour of the Bay, where with breezy porches, enjoyable gardens and
delightful air, the roofs and gables are all that show from the lower
road. Rustic gates, zigzag steps up the grassy heights, handrails of
saplings with the bark unstripped, and arbour-covered terraces or
‘rests’ with shady seats on the way up, all mark the country-like aspect
of the surroundings.

There are many alluring drives in this neighborhood; few anywhere can
compare with them. A more romantic trip than that to the Upper and Lower
Falls of the Fraser River could hardly be imagined. Leaving the
carriage, exploring the wood and descending into the ravine, a beautiful
view is seen. The upper fall descends in two drops to a depth of two
hundred and ninety feet, and the lower fall has a descent of one hundred
and fifty feet. The Thou, Chute, Desbiens, and the Nearn Fall with its
salmon leap, are favorite objectives for enjoyable driving excursions.


The long wharf at Point à Pic is a bustling centre when steamboats are
coming in or going out. Rows of carriages are backed in compact lines as
far as the eye can see. It is almost equally lively at night, and
presents a gay sight with its strings of electric light and clusters of
summer people congregating on the wharf to meet the coming and speed
departing friends. Everyone comes to see the boats arrive and depart.
Furniture, cots, etc., are being unloaded rapidly, and there, as a box
is passed ashore the strong electric light shows it is addressed
to—Cabot; historic name! The busy scene on steamer and wharf, the plash
of the water, the bustle of the moving carriages, the long line of the
pier thrown out from the stern cliff, the beautiful air and the
fascination of a St. Lawrence sunset with its fairy panorama of
fantastic cloud, silver tinted under the influence of the rising
moon—these things constitute a scene that is truly delightful.

[Illustration: A Home in the Woods, St. Irénée]


Owing to the fine drives in the neighborhood, carriages are very
numerous. Almost every house of a _habitant_ has its stable, and whether
he be a grocer, a shoemaker or what not, his _voiture_ may be seen
emerging from its lane by the trim little cottage to meet every
steamboat that calls at the wharf.

The life at Murray Bay is very pleasant; and it is sure to be enjoyed by
all who like driving, walking, boating, bathing, tennis, golf, etc.; all
of which recreations may be followed here to their full in the midst of
ideal surroundings.

Cap à l’Aigle may be described as a farm-village resort. It has a
pleasant little strip of shale and gravel beach. It has a waterfall,
where, although the volume of water passing over it is small, the view
is very picturesque. Beach life is not prominent in any of the Murray
Bay resorts, unless it is at St. Irénée. This is because of the
wonderful attraction the surrounding country has for walks, drives, and
other outdoor recreations. A few houses cluster at the top of the road
leading up from the wharf at Cap à l’Aigle, and farm houses extend along
the tops of the cliffs in the direction of St. Fidèle and St. Simeon.

There are numerous pleasant walks along the breezy heights, and the road
to Murray Bay River and village is an enjoyable one. Cap à l’Aigle has a
quiet, restful, and simple life that suits it for those who desire to
spend the summer not too near to a town; and in addition, it has the
advantage of being within reasonable distance of the busy summer centre
at Murray Bay.

On the south shore of the St. Lawrence, almost opposite Cap à l’Aigle,
lies bright and picturesque Kamouraska, with its white houses lining the
river, and its five verdant islands reposing within convenient reach for
the enjoyment of boating, bathing and fishing. There are summer cottages
here pleasantly placed along the banks, and a number of stopping-places
for visitors are found on the quiet streets. Driving, walking, and
tennis are the recreations, with the usual social life found in country
vacation centres. The village is very prettily laid out; and the
enjoyable stretches of beach, with the abundant tree-growth of the
neighborhood, make this a favorite spot. Kamouraska is near the
Intercolonial Railway station of St. Paschal, from which place it is
reached by a carriage drive of about six miles.

[Illustration: MURRAY BAY]

  1. Bungalow
  2. Cape Fortin
  3. Lower Fraser Falls
  4. Bungalow


Rivière du Loup, some twenty-three miles down the St. Lawrence from
Kamouraska, is a growing city of considerable importance. It took its
name from the seals, once very numerous by the mouth of the river. It
has a pleasant situation on high land, and on that account it has cool
air. The long main street stretches continuously to Fraserville, and
follows the channel of the river for some distance. It is a natural
tourist centre; and the hotel accommodation is good. The hotels at the
Fraserville end are particularly suited to those making a stay in the
neighborhood; for some are large and roomy, with nice gardens and a fine
view of the river from the quiet porches and balconies on the St.
Lawrence side. There are pleasant drives to Notre Dame du Portage
village, Cacouna, etc.; and enjoyable trips may be made over the lines
of the Intercolonial and Temiscouata Railways, as well as on the river
in various directions. Lake Temiscouata, or ‘Winding Water,’ the Touladi
River and Lake, the Madawaska, or ‘Never-Frozen’ River and the Acadian
village of Edmundston are all reached by going over the line of the
Temiscouata Railway. These places are all in the heart of a good fishing
and hunting country.

At ‘The Point’ on the river, numerous cottages have been built for the
enjoyment of cool river breezes, and here, too, good summer hotels are
found where gay companies spend happy days in boating and other
amusements. The wharf with its promenade 2,500 feet long is a favorite
spot at all times, and from this point the steamers of the Trans St.
Laurent Company leave for Tadousac and the Saguenay, almost immediately
opposite on the north shore some twenty-five miles across.

The celebrated Falls of the Rivière du Loup are still beautiful,
although mills, etc., have made sad inroads on their beauty. They are
seen to best advantage by crossing the Intercolonial Railway bridge and
walking through the fields to a point down stream where a high bank
commands a full view of the river bed and the fall above.

Rivière du Loup is the centre of an interesting district; its stores are
very attractive, and its streets shady and well kept; while the
Fraserville district and the summer resorts of ‘The Point’ affords
attractive opportunities for passing many a restful week in the summer
days. From this point, too, may be had one of the best views of the
north shore mountains found along the whole river.

[Illustration: The Falls, Rivière du Loup]

No more pleasant a way of reaching Tadousac and the world-famous
Saguenay River can be imagined than that enjoyed by taking a steamer of
the Trans St. Laurent Company from Rivière du Loup wharf. It is a
delightful trip of about two hours and a half, and it is doubtful
whether any other way of approaching the Saguenay gives the pleasure and
breadth of prospect that this commands.

Near where the steamboat lies at the starting wharf, great three-masted
merchantmen anchor to discharge and take on freight, and tied up by the
wharf itself huge steam barges receive their freight of pulp wood for
the U. S. A.

[Illustration: Scenes at CAP À l’AIGLE]

  1. On the Beach
  2. On the Rocks

As the crossing is made, numerous craft of all kinds come into view.
Boats, launches, barges, yachts, schooners, steamships, ocean liners and
naval vessels all pass by. The air is delightful and invigorating, and
the salt breeze from the ocean is both perceptible and stimulating. The
water is smooth, with just a gentle swell. There is hardly a ripple to
be seen, save here and there where without apparent reason a tiny
wavelet bursts on the surface and spreads its milky froth around for a
brief second or two, and then becomes lost to the sight in the general
silvery calm that prevails. The sky overhead is clear, while near the
horizon beautiful clouds of grey and sun-lit white lend enchantment to
the distant mountain range on the north, now drawing nearer and nearer
and gradually becoming distinguishable. To the west a barge is crossing
south, and its long trail of black smoke reaches down to the Hare
Islands where it mingles with the white fleece of the cloud horizon and
reflects a glint of sunshine over the island slopes.


To the far west the Allan liner that passed by an hour before is
mingling its smoke and vapor with that of the barge, and building
strange and fantastic castles in the air. To the east Red Island looks
like a long pontoon craft calmly sailing over the waters. Before us the
mountain range that erstwhile was dark, and dimly visible, is now
clearing and coming within view, and shows light and shade of green
fields and darker woodland.

As if by magic, the water has suddenly taken on a deep blue, and the
effect is to make the distant hills further off than they seemed before.
Now we pass through a river of molten silver, the wake of a vessel that
went by long ago. Gliding through, we reach a lake-like expanse,
cerulean in hue, and St. Catharines comes into view over the bow of our
vessel, with Tadousac beyond on the right.

We are now nearing the famous Saguenay, where the mariners of ten
centuries ago tarried after their long voyage to the ‘Ultima Thule’ of
those remote days.

That which appeared to be a huge cloud bank over the rent in the
mountain range, where pours out the river in a mighty flood, is now
assuming form as a second and greater range beyond, dwarfing more and
more the high riparian hills into comparative insignificance.

But Tadousac is near, its grand prospect is spread out for our gaze on
every side, and we are making fast to a wharf in a romantic, rocky
cove—both wharf and cove presenting the appearance of having dropped out
of some picture-book in the clouds, so charming and striking is the
whole scene.

[Illustration: Tadousac]

Tadousac was named by the native Montagnais Indians, the word meaning
mounds, or, as in this case, mountains. It has been said that the
village is placed like a nest in the midst of granite rocks that
surround the mouth of the Saguenay. It is built on a crescent-like
terrace, backed and flanked by mountains, and has a fine view over the
harbor, river, and distant shore of the St. Lawrence. The whole life of
the place is so tranquil and uncommercial that it does not intrude on
the visitor’s pleasure. It does not follow from this that there is an
absence of life here—quite the contrary, for Tadousac is a favorite
resort of thousands; but what is meant is that throngs are rarely seen
on the streets or roads. A thousand people may arrive on one of the
great steamboats, and for a while a scene of activity prevails at the
wharf; but in a short time they disperse for the roads, woods, lakes,
park, shore and hotels, and soon the usual tranquility prevails. There
is nothing to mar the repose of the slumbering little Chapel of the
Jesuits on the heights; and its bell, over three centuries old, still
rings true. The Government Piscicultural Station, or salmon hatchery, is
beautifully placed and kept, overlooking the wharf and rocky cove. Here
the little creek Anse a l’Eau makes out, and the tiny waterfall, the
lake, the platform walks, the summer house, and climbing on the rocky
slopes, attract many to a quiet enjoyment of their beauties.

[Illustration: Milking Time]

Golf, tennis, walks, boating, etc., are the chief amusements, and
children find plenty of occupation playing on the fronting sand beach,
or in climbing the rocks and hills. There is a pleasant promenade in
front of the principal hotel. It faces south-east, commands one of the
noblest prospects ever seen, and is immediately above the beach and open
to the cool summer breeze. Summer houses or pergolas dot the walk on the
top of the cliff, and there is no lack of pleasant walks in many
directions. There are places where the first thought on arrival is, “how
can I occupy my time?” The thought that immediately comes to mind here
is, “how can I see what is to be seen here in a few days—a week—or a

The display of the Aurora Borealis is often magnificent in this region.
The Indians call this the reflection of the Camp Fires in the Happy
Hunting-Grounds. On a night when the sky is cloudless, and brilliant
with stars, it is a joyous experience to camp out. Possibly there is
just enough of a breeze to fan the flickering flame of the camp fire.
The broad expanse of the St. Lawrence is unruffled by a single ripple,
and as the gaze follows its surface the glorious stars are mirrored like
shining jewels. Looking to the mountains, great rays of white shoot
upward from behind their far-away heights. Stupendous arches of purple
mount into the blue sky, transient, evanescent; for soon the dream-like
fabric crumbles and disappears, to be followed by red or crimson flames
and a suffused glow as of some cosmic conflagration in far-off space.


The white porpoise is hunted with harpoons on the Saguenay and St.
Lawrence rivers. A length of fifteen feet for this fish is not uncommon.
They are not unlike the whale in appearance and are often mistaken for
their more unwieldy brother. Much art is used to draw sufficiently near
to make a good ‘strike.’ A boat with a white bottom has been used for
this purpose, with a wooden porpoise, or decoy, painted slate-color in
imitation of the young fish. Fenced enclosures, formed like a trap, are
quite common in many parts of the river. The fish enter, become confused
in seeking an outlet, and are easily caught when the tide lowers. Seals
are also caught in this locality, and even small whales are harpooned at

A broad sand-bank reaches out into the St. Lawrence just a short
distance above the Saguenay. It is related that here a whale was pursued
by a swordfish. The fish, provided by nature with its sharp weapon of
offence, was chasing the unlucky whale, which moved with great rapidity
in the direction of the shore, making huge leaps out of the water and
giving out loud bellowing sounds as it sped along. The whale was all of
forty feet in length, and its enemy was fully grown and must have
measured twenty feet over all.

Confused by the near approach of its dread enemy, the whale went too
close to the sand-bar and was soon floundering about in only ten feet of
water. The swordfish now made off, possibly alarmed by the tremendous
splashing and the too-near approach to land. As the tide was rapidly
going out—it falls some eighteen feet here—there was danger for the
whale in being stranded high and dry. It lashed out with its tail and
churned the water with billowing foam. At last after repeated rolls
towards deep water it got off, and soon its joyful spouting could be
seen in the distance as it escaped and made its way down the Gulf.


Seals are also caught with the harpoon. To get near them unperceived,
Indians have made holes in the sands at low tide. Here they hide under a
blanket and imitate the cry of the seal. The seals down by the water’s
edge are attracted from their native element, and gradually draw near.
They make very slow progress on the land, and when too far away to
escape back to the water the Indians pounce out and kill dozens with
blows from their hatchets.

The Saguenay River is possibly the chief tributary of the St. Lawrence.
In every way it is remarkable. Deep, bold, and with headlands of awful
height, a trip over its waters from Tadousac to Chicoutimi is an unique
experience; for nowhere else can similar scenes be found. The source of
the river is in those streams that empty into the head waters of
Pikouagami, or Lake St. John, the principal of which are the Peribonka
and Mistassini rivers. The Metabetchouan, an important stream, also
flows into Lake St. John; and these rivers with the Chicoutimi,
Marguerite, Ha-Ha, and numerous smaller rivers, all unite to swell the
great flood of the almost bottomless Saguenay. There are numerous lakes
north and south of the river, and, almost needless to state, the whole
district abounds in mountain, gorge, and waterfall scenery of the
wildest kind. Tumultuous rapids are everywhere; and the awful contrast
with them of cloud-capped mountain and the silent, still and deep,
unfathomable water below is almost overpowering.

It has been said of the Saguenay that it is not properly a river. It is
a tremendous chasm like that of the Jordan Valley and the Dead Sea,
cleft for sixty miles almost in a straight line through the heart of a
mountain wilderness. There is not a part of the river that does not
impress one with its grandeur and sublimity. The Indians, in their usual
direct nomenclature, called the river Saggishsekuss, ‘a river whose
banks are precipitous’; and from that name the more pronounceable
Saguenay has been derived. Jacques Cartier and Champlain both sailed on
this river, and tradition has it that Roberval penetrated far inland and
never returned.

Shallow water in the lower Saguenay must not be expected, and even at
the head of navigation a name is found that signifies ‘deep water.’ This
is Chicoutimi, a delightful village where Scandinavian vessels come to
load up with lumber. Some claim that the name of the village is derived
from the Indian word Ishkotimew, meaning ‘up to here the water is deep.’
Be that as it may, it is a picturesque place, where many of the cottages
are roofed with birch-bark, and where trim flower gardens, and cottage
doors festooned with climbing vines, may be seen. The dashing mountain
stream Chicoutimi, which has a wild descent of near 500 feet in seven
miles, enters the Saguenay just above the village, and puts on a white
bridal-fall in honor of its union with the stern Saguenay.


On the way from Tadousac to Chicoutimi, the mouth of the Marguerite
River is passed. This river is distant from Tadousac about 14 miles, and
it has a beauty of its own claimed by some to compare with that of the
larger river, but, of course, on a smaller scale. The scenery is
romantic in the extreme. Swirling eddies and foaming rapids turn sharply
around the high cliffs, which are water-worn and smooth below from the
action of the dashing foam. Here and there are quiet pools, deep and
silent; and some are in almost perpetual shade from overhanging cliff
and woodland.

Some seventeen miles above stands Cape Eternity, with Eternity Bay
between it and the giant twin-brother Cape Trinity. Many have felt that
here the ‘climax of the awe-inspiring scenery of the Saguenay is
reached.’ A huge wall of limestone here towers up and projects boldly
over the river. Those who pass beneath it give a shudder of apprehension
as they realize that a fall would mean annihilation for all below. The
great column has been likened to a colossal stairway of three enormous
treads, fit ascension to the clouds for the giant gods of the early
Indian’s dream. Cape Eternity is 1700 feet high, and Cape Trinity 1500
feet. These enormous bulwarks of rock are stern and grand in the awful
majesty of their height and power. As the eye soars upward, the
pine-trees that have gained a foothold in the fissures serve to
accentuate the prodigious heights, for onward and upward they loom until
lost as specks of nothingness.

As Chicoutimi is gradually neared, the water of Ha-Ha Bay opens up on
the south. It received its odd name from the peals of laughter indulged
in by the early French explorers who took it for the main channel of the
river, and who found their mistake when they reached the end of the


In and about Chicoutimi and the neighboring villages are numerous places
of great interest; and doubtless many who visit this district will wish
to go part or all the way to Lake St. John for the pleasure of returning
by canoe, and of enjoying the lively sport of shooting the rapids in
care of two skilful Indian guides. At Portage de l’Enfant an Indian
child managed to perform a feat that few could be likely to imitate
successfully: that of going over the 50-foot fall in a canoe, and
escaping uninjured. For lovers of the curious, the church at Chicoutimi
contains an ancient bell with an inscription on it that no one has been
able to decipher.

If so minded, the traveller who finds himself in this delightful
district may go by rail from Chicoutimi to Roberval at the south-western
end of Lake St. John. Here, in more open country, another series of
excursions may be had, and, not forgetting the pleasure of a stay at
Roberval as a centre, those who are fond of steamboat trips, driving,
walking, boating and canoeing may go in many directions.

The steamboat trip from Roberval to the Grand Discharge and ‘Thousand
Isles of the Saguenay’ is a favorite one. There is nothing similar to it
elsewhere. The drives to Ouiatchouan Falls, picturesque and nearly 300
feet high, and the Montagnais village of Pointe Bleue are full of
interest and novelty. Many other trips are possible.

Much of the country to the north of the lake is unexplored. The same
remark applies to the rivers of the northern district, or rather to
their upper waters. Across Lake St. John, therefore, is ground where the
experienced huntsman or nature-lover may find ample occupation in new

The happy sojourner in these regions will soon become accustomed to the
Indian names, and, if the use of ‘fire-water’ is eschewed, words like
Chamouchouan and Ashuapmouchouan will roll trippingly from the tongue.

And now for an Indian legend. Tonadalwa was an Indian maid beautiful to
look upon, and desired by every young brave of her tribe. Her eyes were
dark and lustrous, her form was lithe, supple and beautifully moulded,
words from her lips were sweeter than honey, and her song was like unto
that of the bird that soars joyously in the sky at the first flush of
the rosy dawn.

Tonadalwa’s heart had never quickened its tender fluttering under the
glances of her dusky wooers. One only, Po-kwa-ha, had any place in her
affections. He had saved her from drowning, years before, and it filled
her memory. In a canoe as light as a feather, that her lover had made
for her, and with the stroke she had learned from him, she would take
her way over the water, skimming the white-crested waves with a grace
and speed beautiful to behold.



One day as the soft summer air played languidly in and out of the
quivering tree branches, while the sun poised over the horizon and
assumed its dying robe of crimson, Tonadalwa’s canoe glided out from the
village shore and took its way down the great river. Taking only an
occasional stroke to keep in mid-channel, the maiden floated on. The
faint musical ripple of the gliding canoe and the gentle swish of the
paddle made a fitting accompaniment for girlish fancies that lightly
came and went on the wings of thought, and soon the soul of Tonadalwa
was deep in communion with nature, and her paddle rested motionless over
the water.

But a sound from the shore interrupts her reverie. She listens. Yes, it
is her lover’s voice. He calls her, as he has done before. She waits to
see if his canoe puts out, but it does not. Again his voice is heard,
and, this time quickly immersing her paddle, she speeds for the shore.
But it is a cruel ruse of a rejected suitor, for when too late she sees
the hated brave dash out in his canoe, and the thing she has dimly
dreaded from the evil glance of Ka-wis is about to happen. She screams
and turns to flee. The dastard brave drops his paddle, springs to his
feet, and, knowing that the maiden will escape in her light canoe, sends
an arrow on its deadly errand of revenge. But Tonadalwa’s eye was quick
and her action fleet, for she dropped prostrate ere the arrow sped where
she had stood a moment before. Alas! she had lost her paddle in the
quick movement, and as she drifted down, not daring to look up, she soon
heard the roar of the dreaded fall below.

All too soon she realized her peril. A cry now reaches her ear. The cry
rings true this time, her heart tells her, and, springing up, she looks
to the bank, sees that Ka-wis has fled and that her brave Po-kwa-ha is
running rapidly as he tries to overtake her. Ere he can draw near to
take the plunge of desperation and love, the whirling eddies have caught
the Indian maid in their grasp, the seething rapids toss her canoe from
billow to billow, and Death seizes her in his cold embrace as the frail
bark is dashed over the foaming cataract.


Po-kwa-ha sees the dreadful catastrophe, as for one brief moment the
beloved form of Tonadalwa is outlined clearly against the evening sky;
and then, with one last involuntary cry for help, she extends her arms
to her lover—and she has gone.

With his loved one torn from his very grasp, with despair in his heart,
and all desire for life extinguished at one stroke, the poor lover
rushes madly to the brink and plunges over the cataract to his death.

But the Good Manitou is kind to the brave, the good, the pure, and the
true; shadowy forms, spirits of dead braves, rise from the foaming
depths below, and ere the hungry waters can overwhelm the Indian maid,
she is borne up, rescued, and returned to life.

Nor was the lover to meet the death he sought; for the same arm that had
rescued the maiden now held up the form of the young brave, and placing
her in his arms, Tonadalwa and Po-kwa-ha were united in life; and,
bearing her tenderly to her home and safety, they were soon united in
happy matrimony amidst the rejoicing of the whole tribe.

Ka-wis was seen no more. When he shot the arrow, he, too, lost his
paddle, and was swept over the dreaded falls. As he sank in the terrible
abyss below no pitying spirits upbore him, and Death claimed him as its

As we make our way back to Chicoutimi and towards the St. Lawrence, we
cannot fail to be impressed by some of the amazing features of the
Saguenay River. By actual soundings many parts of the river are over one
thousand feet in depth, and none are less than one hundred feet. In
places it is as deep five feet from the shore as in the middle of the
channel. To boat or canoe on such waters and in the midst of such
majestic and sublime surroundings is the one thrilling experience of a
lifetime. The stoutest heart must pay involuntary homage to nature when
gliding beneath boldly over-hanging masses of rock that must weigh
millions of tons.

In addition to such scenes, there are softer effects that appeal to all
lovers of the beautiful. Picture the scene when on a fine, clear day,
with just a gauzy haze on the topmost heights of the cliffs, a boat
passes out of the shadows into the full light of the beaming sun. The
blue smoke wreathing gently upwards is from an Indian encampment just
behind yon hill. Here are fine salmon leaping bodily out of the water;
above is a soaring eagle showing like a mere speck against the sun,
while on the surface of the water seals are showing their dog-like heads
and lazy porpoises are playfully spouting sparkling fountains of spray.

[Illustration: Tadousac, the Harbor]

The oldest and purest Indian dialect is that of the Montagnais, or
‘mountaineers.’ They were the original inhabitants of those sky-reaching
regions, but of late they have gradually retired in the direction of
Hudson’s Bay. Indian dialects, as a rule, are very musical, and the
manner in which Indians in general express themselves is full of poetry
and imagery. Most of the legends that have survived of these people are
grotesque in character—of the Glooscap kind. The romantic tales and
fancies will soon be lost unless some effort is made to gather and
preserve them.

But the line of the Intercolonial Railway sends a strong call from the
opposite St. Lawrence shore, and severing present connection with all
the attractions of Tadousac and the Saguenay and Lake St. John district,
Rivière du Loup is regained and the journey north-east is resumed.

A drive of between two and three miles from the railway station at
Cacouna leads to the pleasant resort of that name.

Cacouna has been called the Brighton of Canada, its bathing on smooth
beach, tennis, boating, walking and driving attracting many here to
spend the whole summer. It is a dangerous place for bachelors, so great
is the display of youth and beauty. In the words of the French-Canadian
gradually mastering the intricacies of the English language:


  “You can pass on de worl’ w’erever you lak,
    Tak’ de steamboat for go Angleterre,
  Tak’ car on de State, an’ den you come back,
    An’ go all de place, I don’t care——
  Ma frien’ dat’s a fack, I know you will say,
    Wen you come on dis countree again,
  Dere’s no girl can touch, w’at we see ev’ry day,
    De nice little Canadienne.”

There are many pretty cottages of summer residents along the high and
wooded banks, and there is plenty of accommodation at the hotels and
boarding places. Pleasant excursions are enjoyed to the nearby lake in
the hills, as well as along the country and river roads, and there are
enjoyable drives to St. Arsène and St. Modeste. The view of the St.
Lawrence from the heights is very beautiful, and the air is cool and
pleasant. The sunset views enjoyed here are famous. The quiet and
enjoyable social life of Cacouna is its distinct feature.

[Illustration: BIC]

  1. Bic
  2. Bic Falls
  3. Woodland Falls, Little Metis Beach

[Illustration: Interior of Church, Trois Pistoles]

The name of the village is Indian, and signifies ‘the turtle,’ from the
shape of the great mass of rock connected to the mainland here by a low

Passing Isle Verte, the old village of Trois Pistoles is reached. A very
pretty fishing-river, with tributaries, is here; and summer cottages
have been built for the enjoyment of the fine scenery and good air. A
beautiful church interior may be seen in this quiet village. The church
is near the centre of the village and is known as Notre Dame des Neiges,
or ‘Our Lady of the Snows.’ To see it is worth a trip of hundreds of
miles. The village itself is quaint, and full of old-time atmosphere.

Who was it exclaimed, “I wish I were Queen of Bic!” and in that short
sentence expressed a just appreciation of all the beauties in which this
district abounds? Along Alpine heights the Intercolonial Railway takes
its way, and the approach, far and near, is exquisite for the varied and
magnificent panorama of scenery. At one point the train threads a
mountain gorge hundreds of feet in the air, and, as it winds along, most
charming kaleidoscopic effects are displayed to the admiring gaze.

Long years ago an old inn existed by the wayside, in connection with
which gruesome tales are told of travellers and their strange
disappearance. The village was originally known as Pic. Jacques Carrier
entered and named the harbor Islet St. Jean. At one time it was intended
to make it a harbor for French war vessels, and to make it a grand
outpost in the general scheme for the defense of Quebec. A long wharf
into deep water is now under construction.

Bic is just the place for those who do not care for town life at the
shore. The village is very interesting and well situated, and there are
many good walks through varied and picturesque country. The land-locked
bay is very pleasant at high tide. At the outlet there is a wharf and a
cluster of summer cottages. The new wharf for steamers of deep draught
leads right under frowning cliffs, the points of which have been blasted
away to give room for the new construction. Here the general scene is
bold and striking, and the water view is very pleasing. The cottages are
well placed for those who would enjoy a quiet vacation amidst pleasant

Hattee Bay nearby has a fine stretch of sand, with a few bungalows on
the overlooking heights.

A story of massacre has caused one of the Bic islands to be named
‘L’Islet au Massacre,’ or Massacre Island, from a terrible deed of blood
that took place in a cave there. It is related by M. Tachê in the
‘Soirées Canadiennes’:—Two hundred Micmac Indians were camping there for
the night; the canoes had been beached and a neighboring recess or
cavern in the lofty rocks which bound the coast offered an apparently
secure asylum to the warriors, their squaws and papooses. Wrapped in
sleep, the redskins quietly awaited the return of day to resume their
journey; they slept, but not their lynx-eyed enemy, the Iroquois; from
afar, he had scented his prey. During the still hours of night, his
silent steps had compassed the slumbering foe. Laden with birch-bark
fagots and other combustible materials, the Iroquois noiselessly
surround the cavern; the fagots are piled around it, the torch applied.
Kohe! Kohe! Hark! the fiendish well-known warwhoop! The Micmacs,
terror-stricken, seize their arms; they prepare to sell dearly their
lives, when the lambent flames and the scorching heat leave them but one
alternative, that of rushing from their lurking place.

One egress alone remains; wild despair steels their hearts; men, women
and children crowd through the narrow passage amidst the flames; at the
same instant a shower of poisoned arrows decimates them; the human hyena
is on his prey. A few flourishes of the tomahawk from the Iroquois, and
the silence of death soon invades the narrow abode.


Now for the trophies; the scalping, it seems, took some time to be done

History mentions but five, out of the two hundred victims, who escaped
with their lives.

The blanched bones of the Micmac braves strewed the cavern, and could be
seen until some years back.

Those who escaped travelled day and night to reach a large Huron camp
some distance away. A rapid march was then made by the whole Huron force
to the track by which the Iroquois would return. Not expecting an attack
the Iroquois were in turn taken by surprise, and tradition has it that
they were slaughtered to a man.

The pleasures of Bic are not exhausted by the recounting of its
water-joys, air, scenery and social life. The walks and drives are a
grand feature of summer existence, and moreover they are full of
variety. How delightful to take a river drive in either direction.
Possibly a walk is preferred, and, with a swinging step adapted to a six
or seven mile excursion, a start is made in the direction of the bridge
over the South-West River. Passing up the long main street, the varied
character of the buildings is noticeable; and the quaint and foreign
appearance causes the walk to be arrested at many a spot. Towering
woodland heights on the left, beautiful islands on the right and
haze-capped sugar-loaf mountains before, it is not long before street
merges into country lane. Soon are passed the clustering cottages and
gardens, and neat-appearing farms are at hand. Here where the
Intercolonial Railway is high up on an observation terrace cut in the
side of the mountain, the country road leads down hill, and, with many a
pleasurable incident on the further way, and an occasional
English-French chat with the _habitants_, the bridge is reached.

But dark clouds begin to build up moist tire-laden pyramids, and low
rumblings of distant thunder are beginning to be heard. A St. Lawrence
thunderstorm in this mountainous locality is a thunderstorm, and when it
rains, it rains. Right-about-face—Quick, March! and off we go. A few
miles are covered, but the storm is imminent. Several _cartiers_ pass
uttering their monotonous and plaintive cry, “_Marche donc_”—a sort of
querulous question, ‘why don’t you go on?’ addressed to their patient
horses. You decline the oft-repeated proffer of a ride—and a wetting—and
execute a double-quick run for the shelter of a friendly cottage. Your
energetic knock is quickly answered by a young girl of seventeen summers
who has in her engaging face all the sweet characteristics of the
daughters of France.

“May I shelter here until the storm has passed,” you ask, stepping in.
“_Pardon, Monsieur?_” comes the reply, as the door is hastily closed
against the pelting rain.

Your linguistic powers are varied, yet limited; having been acquired by
brief residences in four or five different countries. You manage to
remark, “_Un jour de pluie_,” and as the young girl smiles indulgently
over this very obvious fact, while rain dashes against the
window,—lightning flashing and thunder rolling—you manage to explain
“_un abri_.” “_Avec plaisir, Monsieur_,” is the reply in liquid and
sweet intonation.

Removing your rain-coat you gratefully repose in the solid arm-chair,
and examine with keen interest all the fittings, ornaments and family
souvenirs of what you plainly see is an old-time French interior. Your
amiable hostess has gone for a moment, but soon reappears, followed by
father, mother, grandfather, brother and sister. You rise, bow politely,
and shake hands all round, not forgetting your ‘good angel of the
storm,’ whose ingenuous eyes reflect the pleasure of having a visitor
from the outer world. “_C’est un grand plaisir_,” you remark; and then
indicating her, you add, “_Ma bonne ange de l’orage_.”

At this all laugh heartily, and none more so than _‘la bonne ange’_
herself. “I hev bin in de State,” the oldest, a son, remarks, as all the
family smile proudly over his knowledge of English. The elder daughter
now invites you to sit near her on the settee while she leafs over the
album of family portraits for your entertainment. You are immediately
surrounded by the others; all leaning over, pointing out the portraits
and relating choice bits of family history. Everyone talks at once, and
your frail linguistic bark founders in the deep sea of voluble

And now a blinding flash of lightning is followed immediately by a
tremendous crash of thunder. The house is shaken by the concussion. ‘_La
Bonne Ange_’ quickly runs to the old-fashioned cupboard in the corner,
takes out a bottle and sprinkles _l’eau benite_ over the door lintel and
window frame. Her sister having run out of the room after the alarming
thunder-peal, ‘_La Bonne Ange_’ shares your settee and explains that the
little ceremony she has just performed is to keep lightning out of the
room. She goes out and brings back a French-English conversation
lexicon. She turns to one of the sentences arranged in parallel columns,
speaks the French and asks you to pronounce the English. This done, you
exchange; she speaks the English and you speak the French—each
correcting the pronunciation of the other until both are right. The
others look on eagerly, and smile encouragement over your progress.
Every time you speak without the necessity for correction, all cry out
delightedly, “_Oui, Oui, Monsieur_.”


At last ‘_La Bonne Ange_’ closes the book, and makes you understand that
without looking at it you are to address her in French.

The thunder has ceased, the clouds have passed, and the returning light
illumines the room and the kindly faces about you. A golden sunbeam
casts an aureole around the head of ‘_La Bonne Ange_,’ and turning to
her you say, “_Vous etes tres jolie, mademoiselle_!” A peal of happy
laughter from the family greets your remark, followed by a clapping of
hands; and as she looks down demurely, ‘_La Bonne Ange_’ replies, “_Vous
parlez français tres bien, Monsieur_;” at which we all laugh more
heartily than before.

You rise to go, expressing your thanks for shelter the while. A kind and
hearty invitation to remain and sup is given; but this you reluctantly
decline, explaining that duty calls you away by the evening train. All
press around to bid you good-bye, and as you leave and turn the bend of
the road all the members of the family salute you from the porch with
waving hands, while in their midst, fluttering her handkerchief, stands
‘_La Bonne Ange de l’Orage_.’


Proceeding down the St. Lawrence, St. Germain de Rimouske, or Rimouski,
is reached, a thriving town and pleasant summer resort, with good
hotels, a fine river and attractive scenery. The beach at Sacré Coeur, a
few miles away, is a good one. There is a fine Government wharf here.
Father Point, a ‘Wireless’ station and place of call for large
ocean-going vessels, may be reached from here, or from the next station,
St. Anaclet, on the Intercolonial Railway. Passing Ste. Flavie, from
which a short connecting railroad runs to Métis Beach, Matane and
Matane-Sur-Mer, and going by St. Octave with its fine fall on the Grand
Métis River, the station of Little Métis is reached, from which a drive
of about six miles terminates at the well-known St. Lawrence resort,
Métis Beach.

[Illustration: On the Links, Metis Beach]

This delightful watering-place with its combined charm of country and
shore is a favorite summer place for all who love quiet and restful
surroundings, with walks and drives in a country that is full of
interest. It has been termed the ‘Bride’s Mecca’ or nearest mundane
approach to the groves of paradise. It is one of those nice spots
favored by people of quiet tastes and avoided by lovers of glare and

Boating, bathing, golf, tennis, walking and driving, are the chief
amusements. There is also an enjoyable social life. The summer cottages
are delightfully situated, being almost hidden in the trees: each has
its own outlook over the broad St. Lawrence, here some forty miles wide.
The Golf Links are most beautifully situated amidst ideal surroundings.
The hotels are right on the water, with plenty of shade from the
generous tree-growth so noticeable in this district.

[Illustration: On the River, Matane]

The beach, one of the best along the St. Lawrence shore, is not used as
much as it should be. It is of pebble and sand, with clusters of rock
that have fallen from the bold cliff. A very romantic waterfall cascades
through a rocky defile and falls on to the beach near one of the
principal hotels of the resort; and this waterfall—so accessible, so
enticing—is surely one of the most charming pictures that could possibly
be imagined. After it reaches the beach it courses down over the pebbles
in miniature rapids and foaming rills. No greater fun for children could
be found than that of wading in the dashing and sparkling streams that
make their way down the beach and out into the salt St. Lawrence.

Rambling along the beach here, under the shade of the trees, is very
enjoyable; and rocky knolls with nooks and shelters are conveniently

About eighteen miles down the river, Matane-Sur-Mer is reached, a very
pleasant spot that has recently been opened up by a short railroad that
connects with the Intercolonial Railway at Ste. Flavie. Near the
lighthouse, and the lighthouse-keeper’s cheerful home adjoining,
bungalows and cottages are being built on a nicely-wooded elevation that
overlooks a long strip of pebble beach. It commands a fine view of the
broad St. Lawrence, and is a good situation for those who like perfect
rest and quiet.

A very enjoyable walk leads to the river Matane, at the mouth of which
the bright and busy village of Matane is placed. Large lumber shipments
are made here, and the place promises to grow steadily as the St.
Lawrence lower coast trade develops. Matane stands on a well-chosen
site, and it has good facilities for bathing, boating, etc. There are
many fine views from the surrounding heights, and the walks in and about
the village, as well as in the adjacent country, are very enjoyable.

[Illustration: Matapedia Valley]

  _The Country Across The Base of The Gaspé Peninsula, and Some Superb
                            Fishing Streams_


Saying ‘Good-bye’ to the hospitable shore of the St. Lawrence, and with
mind well stored with pleasant memories of happy days and joyous hours,
a course across the base of the Gaspé Peninsula is now taken by the line
of the Intercolonial Railway, which here makes a south-easterly dip to
reach Matapedia at the head of the Baies de Chaleurs.

Regaining Little Métis station a good view of interesting country is
obtained on the way to Kempt. Mountain ranges rise on each side, with
high table land, bold slopes, and lines of hills running off to the
north. The woods are beautiful, the white birches brightening up the
various shades of forest green. Beyond Kempt the hills broaden out at
times into wide plains marked by gentle undulations of rich green. Rocky
cuttings, protected by high snow-fences, are passed, and soon a
well-defined valley is reached that is quite narrow in places. At the
left, for some distance, runs the river. Other rocky cuttings are
entered, beyond which another valley, with the still-flowing river, is
reached, After passing the little lumbering village of St. Moise the
road again leads through the hills; higher and higher, with dense forest
on every hand, and soon it is necessary to cut through their very midst.


At Sayabec the region of beautiful Lake Matapedia is reached, and at
Cedar Hall is the most convenient stopping-place for seeing the lake and
its scenery. Together with Amqui and Lac au Saumon these places are
small lumbering centres. They all have fine surroundings, but the
district has not been fully opened up, and only moderate accommodation
can be found.

The course now leads by the murmuring Matapedia River, and at Causapscal
is found an ideal spot for a restful vacation. It is only suited for
those who have quiet tastes and a love for the beautiful, or for those
who can enjoy woodland and river walks. It is one of the most beautiful
and restful little spots ever seen. It is a picture from Switzerland,
and more. No matter how extended the journey, a stay of a few days
should be made at Causapscal to drink in some of its soothing balm.

The Matapedia courses right through the village—one of the cleanest in
all Quebec, by the way—and one may stop at a comfortable little
hostelry, look right out on the river just across the highway, and be
lulled to calm slumber by its gentle murmur. Here the houses are built
only on one side of the road, and this gives a pleasant view of grassy
sward and rippling stream from any part of the village. There are fine
views on every hand. The Causapscal River unites with the beautiful
Matapedia quite nearby, and along the banks of both streams many choice
walks may be enjoyed.

The junction of the two rivers is between high banks, and here is a
favorite fishing-haunt for those who own the fishing rights. The
Matamajaw Salmon Club House is on the top of the bank, close by.

Beau Rivage is a peaceful hamlet, framed by the far-reaching hills that
are here broadened out to a considerable extent. Those who would see the
beauties of the famed Matapedia Valley will find ample occupation as the
train speeds along.

The Matapedia, or ‘Musical’ River, flows along with soothing murmur and
sings a song of peace the while. The rows of cedar logs piled high on
the bank, for shipment over the railroad, are turning grey under the
summer sun and they blend harmoniously in the landscape effect. Flowers
are springing up everywhere, and the tall lambkill is beautiful to
behold. How glorious is the country with its absence of formalism and
inane repetition of stereotyped patterns! Here the river narrows and
throws up two long islands of white and grey pebbles. The water,
confined to small channels for the time, dashes forward and springs up,
leaping and foaming. How joyful its music! The course now bends
suddenly, just where the current is foaming and descending in a noisy
rapid. The clear water breaks in rippling waves of snow-white foam, and
passes in well-marked ridges for some distance, until the widening
channel permits it to resume its erstwhile tranquil way.

Now it passes under the shade of a high and beautifully-wooded mountain,
and immediately the water is tinged with a darkening shade—the sun
eclipsed by the overhanging trees. On many of the mountains so thick is
the foliage that not one tree-trunk can be seen uncovered, excepting,
here and there, a white birch sapling.

[Illustration: Restigouche Valley]

The scenery of the river and valley between Assametquaghan and Glen Emma
is particularly bold and grand, and most enchanting views of the winding
Matapedia meet the gaze at every turn of its sinuous course. The
mountains rise higher and higher, and as the train turns in and out,
far-away glimpses of the silvery stream are frequently caught. Just
below the railroad a mass of rocks has fallen from the mountain side
into the bed of the river, almost closing the way. Leaning out of the
window, as we slow up, the spray is almost at hand.

At times the stream broadens considerably, and the mountains run to
foot-hills that diminish to gentle slopes at the river’s brink. Looking
along the valley at such points, a grand panorama of mountain, hill,
dale, valley and winding stream enchants the artistic eye. There a long
line of beautiful trees is seen on an islet, once part of the mainland.
As the train goes down stream the island seems to come up under full
sail to meet it; and all around, in valley, on mound and hill, and up
the steep sides of the mountains, the gorgeous pink bloom of the
prolific rhododendron gives joy to the senses.


Here the Matapedia has changed its pebble bed for one of rock, and as
there is a considerable fall,—which is also quite noticeable on account
of the easy running of the train—the churning waves and dashing foam
show beautifully below. At a point where the stream deepens and flows on
with darker hue and unruffled surface the train crosses again to the
left bank and approaches Millstream—the smallest of hamlets in the most
ideal situation that could well be imagined.

On the shore of the river, not far away, is an encampment of happy
vacationists, with tent, and shack for cooking; their boat moored below,
and the stream singing of health and cool summer joys as it dashes gaily

The village of Matapedia has a choice and romantic situation at the
confluence of the Matapedia and Restigouche Rivers, known as ‘the
meeting of the waters.’ A railroad runs from here along the south shore
of the Gaspé Peninsula. The surrounding country is magnificent, and a
wealth of beauty is found in the river scenery and fine walks of the
neighborhood. It is one of the choice spots of Canada, and numerous
sites for cottage retreats and river bungalows will be found along the
valley of the Matapedia River, above and below the village.

The canoeing waters of this lovely district are exceedingly choice.

Very nearly all of the country traversed hitherto has been rich in
rivers and streams. In addition to the great inland sea of the St.
Lawrence, and all the numerous rivers previously named, the district
bordered by the Matapedia River has excellent water privileges that
cover a wide area. That fine river, the Rimouski, and the charming
little Neigette are within easy reach of the Métis River, indeed the
smaller river runs into the Métis; and the Métis itself is almost
touched by the Patapedia which runs on and connects with the Restigouche
and Matapedia Rivers.

Rich as Quebec is in watercourses, the province of New Brunswick, into
which we are about to pass, is endowed to even a more extraordinary
extent with those supreme additions to the beauty of a landscape; and
which provide, when communicating, such pleasant and convenient means
for going from one part of the country to the other.

[Illustration: Matapedia, Looking over the Restigouche River]

The system of nearly-connecting rivers just traced extends through New
Brunswick in a wonderful manner; for over the Upsalquitch, Nepisiguit,
Miramichi and other rivers, and by means of the Madawaska and Tobique,
and over the widely ramifying waters of the noble St. John, a grand
highway of water travel is provided. In addition, there is an almost
countless number of tributary streams that intersect the country in
every direction, and which serve to bring remote inner districts into
communication with the seaboard. As has been seen, some of the rivers
are very rapid—dashing headlong through rocky gorges and over stony
beds. Others are wide and tranquil, and some ripple a quiet way over
sandy beds.

Nor must the myriad streams of smaller proportions be forgotten—the
cascade, the brook, the clear and sparkling waters where fish abound.
Surely the whole of this beautiful country is that of which the poet of
olden days wrote:

[Illustration: MATAPEDIA VALLEY]

  1. Meeting of the Waters, Causapscal
  2. Tunnel near Matapedia
  3. Meeting of the Waters, Matapedia

  “The lofty woods, the forests wide and long,
    Adorned with leaves and branches fresh and greene
  In whose cool hours the birds with chaunting song
    Do welcome with their Quire the Summer’s Queene;

  The meadows faire, where Flora’s gifts among
    Are intermixt the verdant grass between,
  The silver skaled fish that softly swimme
    Within the brookes and cristal wat’ry brimme.”

The Matapedia, or ‘Musical,’ River received its name from the sound made
by the wind in the branches of the trees as it courses over and through
the numerous ravines. The river rises in Lake Matapedia, and is over
sixty miles long. Its principal tributaries are the Causapscal and the
Kassimiguagan. It runs a rapid course between two extensive mountain
ranges, and terminates in the Restigouche at a point some twenty miles
south-west of Matapedia village.

Along the Tobique River are mountains and mountain ranges of great
beauty. Bald Head, on the Riley Brook, near the Northern Forks, is
nearly 2,300 feet above sea-level. The Blue Mountains of the Tobique
Valley are very picturesque—some rise as high as 1,200 feet above the
river level. The loftiest heights are attained on the south branch of
the Nepisiguit, between Nictor and Nepisiguit Lakes and the eastern
branch of the Tobique. Here a height is attained of 2,600 feet above the
sea-level. There are several odd-looking mountains on the portage from
Nepisiguit River to Upsalquitch Lake, and a good view of the surrounding
country is obtained by climbing one of these heights.

The Tobique is considered by many to be the most picturesque stream in
all New Brunswick. The fishing is fine and the scenery beautiful. Nictor
Lake is well worth the journey necessary to reach it, and the whole trip
up and down the river is a unique woodland and water experience. Near
the high land separating the Tobique waters from those of the Miramichi
and Nepisiguit, the highest lakes of New Brunswick are found, many of
them being over 1,200 feet above the level of the sea. The whole
province abounds in lakes. Those off the regular travel routes are
seldom visited, although they are quite attractive.

The Restigouche has been called the ‘noblest salmon river of the world.’
It is navigable for 130 miles or more above Campbellton. It has bold and
rugged shores as well as scenes of softer beauty. The country on both
sides of the river is exceedingly grand and impressive. There are huge
lofty mountains, often of irregular shape, covered with tall pines and
rich hardwood. Its chief tributaries are the Matapedia, the Upsalquitch,
the Patapedia, and the Quatawamkedgewick, or ‘Tom Kedgewick.’ The head
waiters are within fifteen miles of the St. John, and that river may be
reached by canoe with a portage of only three miles along the Grand
River connection.

[Illustration: The Meeting of the Waters]

The length of the Restigouche is over 200 miles. It flows generally over
a north-east course, and broadens gradually as it nears its mouth at the
Bay of Chaleur. It is the first large river to be met that is entirely
free of rapid and fall not practicable for a canoe. It is full of
windings and abrupt turns which add to the beauty of its scenery, and
where pools are so often found in which fish like to lie. There are
places where the flow of the water is so tranquil that it can hardly be
noticed. Others there are where gay and frothy little rapids bubble and
dance as they toss their white crests in the air, but here a canoe may
be poled through with ease. Even in those places where swirling eddies
and foaming waters are found, little difficulty is experienced in making
a way through to the quiet water above. In the quiet and still parts of
the river the fish are to be seen swimming about many feet below the
surface, and this is true, also, of the Green River, which connects with
the upper forks of the Restigouche.


The Upsalquitch is a stream of many tributaries and sparkling branches.
It abounds in salmon and trout. It is related that on one journey over
this river the fish were so plentiful that considerable effort was
necessary to force a way through with the canoe. On another trip down to
the Restigouche a pool was passed through where not less than two
hundred salmon jumped and darted in every direction when they were thus
disturbed. These fish would only average about twenty pounds each; but
others weighing over forty pounds are frequently caught.

From Campbellton over the line of the International Railway to St.
Leonard’s, many districts of the Upsalquitch, Kedgewick, Restigouche,
Tobique and St. John Rivers may be reached.

The Nepisiguit, or ‘River of Foaming Waters,’ is a fine fishing stream.
But great as this attraction is, it has even a greater, for its scenery
is rugged, romantic and exquisitely varied. The picturesque Pabineau
Fall is a lovely sight, and the Grand Falls of the Nepisiguit, about
twenty miles from Bathurst, should be seen by every one. Connection is
made by a short railroad with the line of the Intercolonial Railway at
Nepisiguit Junction, near Bathurst. The Grand Falls tumble precipitately
in four descents through a huge rocky gorge. The roar of the water, the
foaming curtain of the descending torrent and the spray that floats some
distance down—all combine to make a striking scene; while the sight of
the river rolling away in the shuddering depths below has a strong
fascination for all. Above the Grand Falls there are picturesque rapids
where by walking over the great rocks—and over giant tree trunks that
have lodged in immovable positions in their descent of the river from
the lumbering region higher up—a good view of river and hilly banks may
be obtained. By going down the railroad for about one quarter of a mile,
and climbing up on to a bluff, a full view of the gorge, the fall and
the foaming depths far below may be had.

Pabineau Fall takes its name indirectly from the small stream Pabineau
that falls into the Nepisiguit a short distance below the Fall. It was
once called Pabina, and had the English name of Cranberry Falls as well.
Although the word is of Indian origin, its present form is believed to
be Acadian French, meaning the Highbush Cranberry. The Indians used to
spear a canoe-load of salmon at a time by the Pabineau Fall in the days
before fishery wardens were appointed to patrol the river.


There are splendid trout lakes on the upper waters of the Nepisiguit,
and the whole region is one of the choicest for sportsmen, lovers of
nature, and those who do not mind being away from the towns. To see the
river at its best, it is necessary to camp out with guides accustomed to
the management of canoes, and who are also skilled in woodcraft. There
are many such guides living all along the lower part of the river. There
are some excellent private fishing-club houses, as well as a few where
guests are received.

Theodore Roosevelt, who, in addition to his other qualifications, is a
genuine nature-lover, scout, woodsman and Nimrod, is always at home in
the upper waters of the Nepisiguit. Of this country he wrote: “Goodbye,
lovely Nepisiguit, stream of the beautiful pools, the fisherman’s
elysium; farewell to thy merry, noisy current, thy long quiet stretches,
thy high bluffs, thy wooded and thy rocky shores. Long may thy music
lull the innocent angler into day-dreams of happiness. Long may thy
romantic scenery charm the eye and gladden the heart of the artist, and
welcome the angler to a happy sylvan home.”

The country just described is perhaps the best in all North America for
hunting and fishing. Some details and incidents relating to this region
will therefore be of interest.

The hibernating or marvellous winter sleep of bears is doubtless well
known to all. A large bear crawled out one April from under a bridge of
logs in the Upsalquitch district over which timber had been hauled
noisily all winter without arousing him from his long, deep sleep.

Bruin plays queer antics. A bear broke into a lumber camp, turned the
tap of the molasses barrel, rolled over and over in the sticky syrup,
broke open a flour barrel with one stroke of the paw and then rolled
about in the flour until he looked like a polar bear.


An Indian without a gun was once chased by an infuriated she-bear, whose
cub he had stolen. His only refuge was a hollow tree, down which he
lowered himself with the cub. The old bear descended bear fashion, tail
first. The Indian seized her by the stumpy tail, whereupon he was drawn
to the top, and giving the bear a thrust off on top of the stump, master
of the situation.

A bear caught in a trap on the Patapedia by an Indian was met by the
hunter, marching around with the trap on one foot and shouldering the
pole to which it was attached, biting savagely at the knots and boughs
of trees he passed and inflicting terrible wounds on the defenceless
wood. Knowing there was a bounty of three dollars a bear on the New
Brunswick side of the boundary, the Indian succeeded in driving him
across the dividing brook. This done, he shot him and got his bounty.

Another wily Indian cut off the snouts of two large Newfoundland dogs,
and producing them to the magistrate demanded the bounty money. Being
asked for the customary oath, he said, ‘Swear me in Indian, me no
understand English well.’ ‘All right,’ said the unsuspecting justice.
The guileless Indian then swore in the Indian tongue that he had killed
two large black dogs—and pocketed the six dollars.

A story showing the humor of a Maliceet Indian, who was a great
snuff-taker, is the following: “One time I go huntem moose, night come
dark, rain and snow come fast; no axe for makum wig-wam; gun wet, no get
um fire; me bery tired, me crawl into large hollow tree; I find plenty
room, almost begin sleep. By-and-by me feelum hot wind blow on my face,
me know hot bear’s breath. He crawl into log too; I takeum gun, she no
go; I think me all same gone, all eat up. Then me thinkum my old
snuff-box. I take some snuff and throw ’em in bear’s face, and he run
out, not very much likeum. I guess me lay still all night, he no come
again, little while, bear he go O-me sneezum, over and over, great
times. Morning come, me fixeum gun and shoot ’em dead; he no more
sneezum, no more this time.”

When an Indian catches a bear in a trap, he apologizes to the animal,
and asks that vengeance shall not be taken for his death. He promises to
respect his bones, and this promise he keeps; for Indians burn bears’
bones instead of giving them, like other bones, to the dogs.

Bruin is often very wily. A bear once dropped to the fire of a hunter’s
rifle. Carefully reloading, the hunter advanced and poked the animal to
make sure it was not shamming. The bear was motionless. The gun was laid
down and a sheath knife drawn to prepare Mr. Bruin for the camp bearers.
Just as the hunter grasped the forepaw the bear raised up, and a
terrible struggle ensued. A son of the hunter was commanded by the
father to shoot, but the boy was too nervous to risk a shot. Finally the
hunter was worsted and succumbed to his injuries just as the son gained
command of himself and lodged a bullet in Bruin’s head. A singular part
of the story is the positive statement that only one bullet was found in
the bear’s body—and that was the son’s bullet that killed the animal at
the last.

Another story of a bear shamming has a happier ending, for in this case
the hunter reloaded and approached by stealth after seeing Bruin drop
like a stone to his rifle shot. This time the bear ‘came to life’ too
soon. He was found standing, and ready to give battle, until a second
shot really hit him and ended all shamming.

Fish stories are always in order in a fishing country; and when that
country is the best the world has to offer, the stories may properly be
of fair proportions.


On the Nepisiguit River a 45-pound salmon has been known to leap from
the water into a canoe. This reverses the usual practice of suicides;
and perhaps it will be well to explain that as a fish has to jump out of
water to commit felo-de-se, the salmon in question took the easiest

Squirrels in swimming across a river are sometimes swallowed by trout.
As trout have often been caught weighing six pounds, this story seems
quite credible:

On a trouting excursion in this region so many fish were caught that the
fishermen became completely exhausted through the incessant labor of
hauling in the fish. On the homeward journey they reached a place where
large trout poked their heads out of the water, but the fishermen had
not enough energy left to throw a line.

[Illustration: In Camp]

In good fishing waters, strange as it may seem, two trout have been
caught on the same hook with one cast of the line.

It may be well to remark that in Quebec and New Brunswick the system of
private leases of fishing privileges prevails. That is to say, the
fishing rights on a stream are either owned by those who have bought
land with river frontages, or they are leased outright by the Government
to fishing clubs of wealthy sportsmen who can afford to have the river
patrolled by fishery guards. A privilege may include the right to cast a
line in one pool, in a stretch of water a mile or two in length, or over
the course of the river for a distance of fifty or even a hundred miles.

Club-houses are built at the principal spots where the best fishing may
be had, and there wealthy fishermen make their stay in comfortable
quarters during the salmon season. At Matapedia, Campbellton, etc., may
be seen whole truck loads of large boxes some four feet long, each box
having one or more fine salmon packed in snow for transportation to
friends of the anglers at New York and other distant points.

The expense of maintaining the club-house, buying fishing rights,
employing fish guardians, etc., is borne by the members of the club; and
all things considered the sport of salmon-fishing is a royal amusement
costing a considerable amount of money.

The best rights are all bought up; but there are still some places, as
on the Upsalquitch River, where fair salmon-fishing may be had at ten
dollars a day and the cost of the fishing permit added. In some streams,
where fish do not abound, the cost is much less. Sportsmen should bear
these facts in mind before planning a fishing trip. If really good sport
with fine fish is desired, the best plan is to communicate with the I.
C. R. Agent at the nearest point to the centre selected, and he will
procure all the information required. If planning a trip in June and
July, do not wait until the fishing-rights are let out and all the
guides and boats are engaged—write in good time, not later than the
month of April or May, and have definite arrangements made well in
advance, including the important detail of where to stay. Some of the
best places for fish have neither cabin nor camp anywhere near. In
selecting a spot like this, arrangements for tents and supplies, teams
and guides, etc., should be made at least some months ahead.

[Illustration: Bungalow at Charlo, Bay of Chaleur]

                          _The Bay of Chaleur_


Jacques Cartier entered and named La Baie des Chaleurs in the year 1535,
but before that time the unnamed waters had been frequented by European
fishermen, drawn there by the splendid fishing for which this bay has
long been known. The name ‘Bay of Heats’ was probably given to mark the
genial temperature of these waters as compared with that of the more
frigid waters of the Newfoundland shore. In very early maps it is termed
La Baie des Espagnols, or ‘Spanish Bay’, from the fact that many of the
early fishers were from Spain. The Indian name, Ecketuam Nemaache, the
English of which is ‘Sea of Fish,’ is quite appropriate, too; but the
use of the name Bay of Chaleur is now universal.

The Bay is more than ninety miles long, and receives the waters of fully
sixty rivers and streams. Sea and brook trout are found in nearly all of
these tributaries, and in many of them the finest salmon are caught. It
is rarely stormy, on account of the protection afforded by the
projecting peninsulas, and the outlying islands, Shippegan and Miscou.
The air is clear and pleasant, and fog is comparatively unknown. The
tides, also, are quite moderate.

American fishing fleets visit these waters every year. They may be seen
in the spacious harbor of Miscou Island when they come there from the
outer waters for shelter in stormy weather. The Bay of Chaleur has
always been a favorite fishing-ground for New Englanders; for it was a
Yankee captain of whom Whittier wrote in his “Skipper Ireson’s Ride,”
describing the punishment meted out to that hard-hearted man for his
cruelty in abandoning to its fate a sinking craft manned by his

  “Small pity for him!—He sailed away
  From a leaking ship, in Chaleur Bay,—
  Sailed away from a sinking wreck,
  With his own town’s people on her deck!

  ‘Lay by! lay by!’ they called to him.
  Back he answered, ‘Sink or swim!
  Brag of your catch of fish again!’
  And off he sailed through the fog and rain!

      Old Floyd Ireson, for his hard heart,
      Tarred and feathered and carried in a cart
          By the women of Marblehead!”

The land on the north side of the bay is very bold, and considerably
varied. The Shickshock Mountains, running through the centre of the
peninsula, attain a height of nearly 4,000 feet. The southern shore is
much lower, with occasional elevations. The outlying parts of Chaleur
Bay and much of the coast may be seen to advantage by taking a steamer
from Montreal or Quebec down the St. Lawrence and into the bay. The
boats of the Gaspé Steamship Co. run from Montreal to Gaspé and Port
Daniel, calling at Matane and many other parts of the south shore of
Gaspé Peninsula. The boats of the Quebec Steamship Co. also run from
Montreal to Gaspé and other parts of the Maritime Provinces.

A very good plan is to go from Campbellton to Gaspé by the _Canada_ of
the Campbellton and Gaspé Steamship Co. The boat puts in at many of the
places along the north shore of Chaleur Bay, and affords an excellent
opportunity for viewing the coast scenery. If preferred, the return
journey may be made over the line of the Quebec Oriental Railway from
Gaspé, its present terminus, calling at Douglastown, Barachois and Cape
Cove, etc.; or it may be varied by taking the steamship from Gaspé to
Grand River, to see the eastern Gaspesian coast by daylight, and making
the remainder of the western journey by train from Grand River. The
railway touches the towns and villages along the coast, connects with a
ferry for Campbellton, and terminates at Matapedia. On the return trip a
stop-off may be made at the principal places along the line. This trip
may be reversed and changed as may be found most convenient.

Presuming it has been decided to go all the way to Gaspé by steamship,
and to return by way of Grand River and the railway to Campbellton, a
description of the country traversed now follows:

Leaving Campbellton at about 11 a.m. and putting in at Dalhousie on the
south shore, the steamship calls at Carleton, New Richmond, Bonaventure,
New Carlisle, Port Daniel, Grand River, and Percé, etc., arriving at
Gaspé the next morning at 9 o’clock.


The Bay of Gaspé is both long and wide, being about twenty miles in
length, with a width of five miles or more in its widest part. Rather
more than half-way in a small peninsula makes out from the sandy beach
to the south, and another from the northern shore. These afford
admirable protection for the upper water or harbor, where there is room
for a great fleet to ride at anchor. The view from the water approach to
the town is delightful.

  “The mountains of Gaspé are fair to behold,
  With their fleckings of shadow and gleamings of gold.”

Several rivers empty into the bay and harbor, there are noble hills
around, and behind the town the high mountains rise. A goodly fleet of
whalers and fishing schooners leaves from this port, and the smaller
craft with the numerous boats, etc., add greatly to the pleasant view
that meets the eye on entering the port. No better spot could be
selected for enjoying yachting, boating and fishing; while the cool air
and splendid scenery leave nothing lacking for the enjoyment of those
who come here. There are many visitors in the summer, and the life is a
pleasant and social one.

It was at Gaspé that Jacques Cartier landed, took possession of the
country in the name of his king, and erected a cross thirty feet high
adorned with the fleur-de-lis of France. Here, also, a great naval
engagement took place between the French and English, and here, too, in
later years a great English fleet arrived and captured the village. The
Gaspé Peninsula was formerly a province, with its seat of government in
this very town of Gaspé. It is now part of the Province of Quebec. In
this part also there survives a distinct tradition of the Norse
discovery of America.

The early Indians of this region are said to have been the most
intelligent of all the North American tribes or peoples. They were far
advanced in civilization, and had a fair knowledge of geography and
astronomy. In connection with the visits of the Spaniards Velasquez and
Gomez, and their meetings with the Gaspesian Indians, a fanciful
tradition survives in relation to the origin of the word ‘Canada.’


The oft-repeated remark, “aca nada,” or ‘there is nothing here,’ made by
the Castilian adventurers when disappointed in their search for gold,
was judged to be of importance by the Indians, who frequently repeated
it to Jacques Cartier. Cartier is supposed to have mistaken this
oft-heard expression for the name of the new country. A more likely
derivation, however, is found in the Indian compound word
Caugh-na-daugh, or ‘village of huts;’ and this, it is thought, has
gradually settled into the euphonious and easily pronounced name of

In later years the Micmac Indians were along the shores of the Gaspé
Peninsula in large numbers, but more recently they have almost deserted
the region, and are to be found in New Brunswick, etc.

It is related that when Lord Aylmer was Governor-General he once went on
an excursion to Gaspé. Micmac Indians to the number of nearly 500
flocked to welcome the ‘great chief.’ When the governor landed with a
brilliant staff, he was met by Peter Basket, the great Micmac Chief, at
the head of the aboriginal deputation. The chief, a fine, powerful man,
and surrounded by his principal warriors, at once commenced a long
oration in the usual solemn, singsong tone, accompanied with frequent
bowings of the head.

It happened that a vessel had been wrecked in the Gulf some months
previously, and the Indians proving themselves ready and adroit wreckers
had profited largely by the windfall. Among other things they had seized
for personal adornment was a box full of labels for decanters, marked in
conspicuous characters, ‘Rum,’ ‘Gin,’ ‘Brandy,’ etc.

The chief had his head liberally encircled with the usual ornaments,
and, in addition, had dexterously affixed to his ears and nose some of
the labels as bangles.

At first they were not particularly noticeable amid the general novelty
of the spectacle, but while listening to the prolonged harangue of the
chief, the governor began to scrutinize his appearance and dress; and
then his ears and nose with the labels inscribed ‘Brandy.’ ‘Gin,’ ‘Rum,’
etc. Glancing towards his staff he could no longer maintain his gravity,
and was joined in a hearty but indecorous burst of unrestrainable

[Illustration: GASPÉ PENINSULA]

  1. Carleton
  2. New Carlisle
  3. Gaspé

The indignant chief, with his followers, immediately withdrew, and would
neither be pacified nor persuaded to return, although the cause of the
ill-timed merriment was explained to him.

Sunrise on the Gaspé is a beautiful sight. The long stretch of sandy
beach, the opposite shore with the pine and fir trees in the far
background, the houses of the fishermen, the boats on the strand, the
waving fields of grain, the ever-brightening sun tinting all with
increasing light, and in the distant offing the dark hull of a vessel
that has not yet passed into the bay; all make a new picture.

“What a delightful haven of rest Gaspé is for the overworked and
sleepless New Yorker!” remarked a Gothamite who makes this his summer
home. Another, on his return from mackerel fishing exclaimed, “What a
glorious spot to recuperate exhausted nature! No noise, no telegrams, no
trusts, no bank troubles, no corporation frauds, no boodlers, no
presidential elections!...... Instead, sleep, bracing air and
incomparable landscapes.”

No one is in a hurry here. They get up when they like. They do not
rush—they saunter. No feverish haste to do anything. If a thing is not
done to-day—very good, it may be done tomorrow. Idle older people smoke
all day, gossip a bit, take a walk, and otherwise amuse themselves. They
retire early and sleep soundly, undisturbed by civilization’s din.

A characteristic little story is related by Lemoine in his excellent
‘Maple Leaves,’ or Explorations in the Lower St. Lawrence. It seems that
the government of the day had sent a commissioner to Gaspé to enquire
into the discipline, etc., of the county prison there. When he arrived,
he found the jailer sitting on the court house steps, in an easy chair,
smoking a huge Dutch meerschaum. This is a transcript of the dialogue
that ensued:

“Won’t you step in, Mr. Commissioner, and see how we manage here. My
turnkey is away catching his winter’s cod. My prisoners are all in good
health, and I have eighteen of them.”

“I should like to see them,” replied the visiting official.

“Are you in a hurry—will it do after supper?” asked the genial jailer.
“I will have them all here then.”

“I cannot wait,” replied the official, “as I have to make up my report
at once.”

“Sorry you have so little time,” the jailer now remarked; “the fact is,
my prisoners take a turn in the country every morning, then they do up
my garden, catch a few fresh trout for dinner, and do other little
things; but at sundown all come back here to sleep. I treat them well,
and they don’t mind staying in at nights. Wait until the evening, they
are looking up my two cows that are off in the woods, and I promise to
trot out every man-jack of the eighteen.”


There is excellent fishing in the York and Dartmouth Rivers, as well as
in the waters of the harbor and bay; and visitors in pleasant Gaspé have
no lack of general summer amusements.

Steering south and crossing Mal Bay, the fishing village of Percé is
reached, a district made remarkable by the neighboring Percé Rock and
Bonaventure Island. After leaving Percé, the steamship passes between
island and rock and affords fine views of both.

Bonaventure Island acts as a breakwater for the Percé shores from which
it is distant about two-and-a-half miles. Its inhabitants are fishermen.
The island is a mass of rock with cliffs nearly 500 feet high, and a
sail around it is very enjoyable. Several desperate naval engagements
have taken place nearby. It is at the Percé Rock, however, that interest
centres itself strongly.

Percé Rock is nearly 300 feet high and about 500 feet long. Its
precipitous sides rise directly from the sea. The huge cliff is pierced
by a lofty arch under which boats sometimes pass. Formerly there was a
second arch or tunnel near the outer end of the rock, but it fell with a
great crash, leaving only a high pillar of what had stood before. The
top is covered with grass; and sea birds in great numbers make it their
home. Their loud cries have often helped to guide home the mariner when
caught in a fog.

Of the general scenery found here much may be written that is favorable.
The village has two coves and is divided by the Mont Joli headland.
Artists and lovers of wild and romantic scenery may find here all that
their hearts desire. Mont Ste. Anne in rear of the village rises almost
abruptly to a height of 1300 feet or more, and is the first sight of
land obtained from vessels coming up the Gulf to the south of the Island
of Anticosti. On a clear day it may be seen sixty miles away. The ascent
towards French Town commands a good general view, and makes an excellent
standpoint from which to see the Percé Rock. A climb up Mont Ste. Anne
will disclose an outspread panorama the like of which is rarely seen. As
many as two hundred sail have been counted on the surrounding waters. On
the slopes, too, may be found fossil remains of elevated beaches, and
interesting specimens of fine quartz crystals, jasper and agate.

[Illustration: In the Gaspé Country]

The road through the mountain gorge or highway connecting Percé with
Gaspé Basin has been likened to the best of Swiss scenery.

A number of quaint legends have their origin in connection with the
Percé Rock. These all turn on the white and ghost-like vapor often seen
over the rock in the dim light, caused by flocks of birds circling
overhead in fantastic array before alighting. It is told that a Breton
maid lost her life here and that her spirit still haunts the scene. Her
lover in the days of long ago came to the New Land to seek his fortune.
She, his promised bride, he left behind, until he could make a living
and a home for her. He prospered, and soon sent back word for her to
come. She left, but met a terrible fate on the way, for her ship was
captured by Spanish corsairs and she alone was spared to become the wife
of the pirate captain. She refused, and he swore she should never reach
Quebec. When he knew her story he threatened he would sail past Percé;
and in sight of her lover she should be put to death.

This preyed on her mind to such an extent that at last, when they drew
near the place that was to have been the scene of her happiness, she
jumped overboard—the vigilance of her watchers for a moment relaxed. She
sank, and all attempts to rescue were vain. As they were cruising about
and searching the water, the lookout discovered what appeared to be a
woman rising from the water with dripping garments. It was nearing
sunset and the vessel gradually drew near the rock, lured by the figure.
It was soon discovered that the ship was slowly sinking, and orders were
given to wear away from the haunted spot. In vain the crew tried to
obey. It was hopeless; for the ship was turning to stone, her masts had
become pillars of iron, her sails—slate.

Rapidly sinking she drew near to the Percé Rock, and before the pirates
could jump over to swim ashore, they were turned to stone. The doomed
ship immediately struck the rock and became part of it. Yonder point is
said to have been the vessel’s bowsprit, there was the foremast, here
the stern. Once clearly visible, they are now worn down by wind and wave
so that they appear to be an integral part of the rock itself; but
although the ship’s identity is lost, the wraith of the poor Breton maid
lingers ever near the spot. Those living near believe she will depart
and be at rest when the last vestige of the pirate ship shall have

It is said that sunset is the time to see the ghostly presence, and so
well is this believed that no fisherman dares to drop a line near the
spot when the evening sun dips low.


Some ten miles south-west of Percé is Cape Despair, near which Queen
Anne’s great fleet under Admiral Walker met grave disaster in the great
storm that scattered and almost destroyed it. Eight large vessels were
wrecked, and the bodies of several thousand men were strewn along this
shore and on that of Egg Island. Fragments of the wrecks were to be seen
along the coast until quite recently. Here the “Flying Dutchman” is
still believed to prolong his phantom existence, for the natives say
that sometimes when the sea is quiet and calm, vast white waves roll in
from the Gulf bearing on their crest a phantom ship crowded with men in
old-style uniforms. An officer stands on the bow, with a white-clad
woman on his left arm, and as the surge sweeps the doomed ship on with
terrific speed, a tremendous crash is heard and the clear, agonizing cry
of a woman—and then, nothing is left to view save the stern cliffs and
the tranquil sea.


The coast now makes off almost west, and soon the little fishing village
of Grand River, on the river of that name, is reached. This was the
former terminus of the coastal railway that now extends to Gaspé. If
desired, the return journey by rail to Campbellton may start from here.
Grand River has a good wharf and is a place of call for steamers from
Montreal, Campbellton, Dalhousie, etc. The country is pleasant and
rolling, while the scenery on the river is both varied and picturesque.
The fishing rights are leased, as is the custom through the greater part
of this province. The open sea washes the shore, and the air is very
enjoyable. The river affords excellent canoeing.

Passing Pabos and the outlets of the Great and Little Pabos Rivers, the
spreading village of Port Daniel is seen, comfortably placed on and near
the river of that name and its tributaries, as well as by the head of
its own picturesque little bay. Near here, at Pointe-au-Maquerau, the
steamship _Colborne_ went ashore with a valuable cargo of silks, wine,
hardware, silver-plate and specie. This was strewn in great confusion
along Harrington’s Cove, and even at Port Daniel. Much was picked up by
wreckers from Gaspé and Percé; and the auction sale of the salvage
brought wealth to many along the shore, for the cargo was worth over
$400,000. From the top of the Cap au Diable mountain range a splendid
panoramic view may be seen. The rivers of this district are full of wild
fowl in the spring and fall. The Grand Pabos is quite a fine stream. Not
far away is Duck Cove, a pretty spot with a clear little stream running
down to the sea. West of Newport there is a rocky little island close to
the shore, well wooded in the center and admirably suited for the
erection of a small bungalow or summer home.

[Illustration: Percé Village]

Further west is some of the wildest hill scenery, with rocky gorges, and
where foaming brooks may be seen cascading seawards in a series of
minute waterfalls. A bold and rising series of hills marks the approach
to the Gascon Capes, in the valleys of which the streams make sheer
plunges down to the shore line with many a fall of picturesque beauty.

Just between Gascons and Port Daniel a branch of the Port Daniel River
winds a devious course to the ocean. On one side a huge precipice rises,
inaccessible and almost vertical. The river washes its base, while on
the other side rolling hills and a more-shelving shore make it possible
to walk near the river bed. Some of the headlands and caves are very
striking. The minute beaches or sand-strips are covered at high tide, so
that at such time it is impossible to obtain a view save from above, or
from the tip of some further projecting rocky spur thrown out from the
main cape.

Near Port Daniel may be observed a feature that is common on the north
Chaleur shore, for the inrush of the tide has carved out lateral scoops
in the sides of the inlets and bays, so that inwardly projecting horns
make a good anchorage for boats and vessels where the sound of the
breaking waves may plainly be heard coming from the outer sides.
Sometimes a short distance of ten or twenty yards is all that separates
the active sea from the quiet haven.

Some of the smaller streams have trees on opposite banks, meeting close
and mingling their shade overhead for mile after mile. In many cases the
only way to fish or view some pleasant water-course is to walk in the
water—for the banks generally rise abruptly. It is only by the wider
streams that gravel strips or edges of green sward give a dry foothold.
The pretty brooks and streams between Grand River and Cascapedia have
pure and sparkling water in their channels, and these, like the streams
to the east, are bordered by perpendicular banks that are grass-grown
and plentifully covered with a profusion of wild flowers.

Paspebiac, the inhabitants of which are called “Papsy-Jacks” by the
English-speaking people hereabouts, with part of the village towards the
shore, tree-embowered, presents a pleasing aspect with its group of
vessels of good size lying in its clear waters. It stands on a gentle
slope that runs down to the sea. Near here the railroad track runs very
close to the brink of the cliff, so close that it will not be long
before the inroads of the sea below will cause it to be moved in.


The Bonaventure is a river of fair size on which lumbering is done, as
on all the important streams of the peninsula. Clean lumbering, such as
the floating of logs, does not spoil these excellent fishing rivers. It
is the sawdust and mill refuse that is harmful, and there is a strict
provision against this and other forms of pollution throughout the whole
of the Maritime Provinces.

In the neighborhood of New Richmond and the Grand and Little Cascapedia
Rivers the hills are mountainous and beautiful, and a fine panorama of
country is unfolded in proceeding west. The village of Cascapedia is
delightfully situated; and the river takes a charming course through the
finest of scenery, dividing into forks and making many a turn in its

New Richmond is prettily situated in the midst of hills and valleys in a
country that is finely wooded. The district is well watered, situated as
it is between the two Cascapedia Rivers. The head waters of the main
stream reach well up towards the St. Lawrence, and almost into
connection with the Matane. There are lakes of good size within
convenient reach.

The country from here to Carleton, at the foot of the majestic
Tracadiegash Mountain, is full of interest and beauty. Gray sand, dark
firs seeking a foothold on the mountains, the meadows, the hay fields,
the bright yellow of the grain crops, the dark brown nearer mountains
and the blue-black distant range, overcapped by clinging clouds, and the
steamy vapor in long filaments lining the folds of the hills that fade
away into distance to right and left, are all fair to behold. The pure
white wings of the seabirds, even when far away, are outlined with sharp
cut distinction against the lofty mountain background.

Here and there a tiny little hamlet hides modestly behind the sheltering
green, and the first glimpse of its presence is often the top of the
church spire barely showing through the leafy canopy. Yonder a few dark
roofs peep out from over the trees of lesser growth, and down the shore
are lighthouses and neat little wharves for vessels and steamers. Owing
to the long and narrow dimensions of the farms, and their subdivision
for various crops, the shore often presents the appearance of a great
checker-board, the dark and light patches frequently alternating with
exact regularity.

Carleton is a pleasant and cool little spot, spreading out
crescent-shaped on table land at the foot of the hills and right on the
shore, fronted by a clean sand beach. The village is peopled by
descendants of the Acadian French who came here from Tracadie. It lies
almost in a nook, nicely sheltered. The Bay of Carleton is a fine sheet
of water, with the points of Miguasha and Tracadiegetch at its western
and eastern boundaries. The little river Nouvelle empties into its
western end. It is a good place for sea fish, and the brooks and streams
inland are stocked with trout.

The Chaleur Bay shore of the Gaspé Peninsula has many attractions for
summer visitors, for being somewhat removed from the regular highways of
travel it still preserves its old-time appearance. Those who spend a
vacation in any of its homelike villages or towns cannot fail to be
pleased with all they will find there. The great hunting and fishing
opportunities are described under the chapter “Where to Go.”

In leaving the Gaspé shore, the province of Quebec is left behind, and
further progress east and south is in the province of New Brunswick.

The once fire-swept, but again busy and prosperous, town of Campbellton
stands at the head of the navigable deep-water of Chaleur Bay. The
surrounding country is well diversified and exceedingly picturesque with
its valleys and conical hills. The Sugar Loaf boldly overlooks all from
an elevation of over 900 feet. An excellent view of the broad
Restigouche River may be had from almost any part of the town.
Campbellton has good wharves and much shipping; it is also a busy
Intercolonial Railway centre. Because of its admirable situation it is a
natural centre for hunting, fishing and canoeing trips, and it makes a
good base for camping-out parties. It is also finely adapted for summer
residence of those who like to spend their vacation in a town centre
convenient to outlying country and places of interest.


Almost directly over the river is Cross Point, sometimes called Mission
Point. Here there is a reservation occupied by 500 Micmac Indians. They
are skilled in woodcraft and the management of canoes, and make
excellent guides.

[Illustration: Dalhousie—Along the Harbor Shore]

A few miles up the Restigouche above Campbellton a naval encounter took
place between the French and English, off Restigouche, that resulted in
the capture of the French and the destruction of the shore defences at
Battery Point. The whole place went up in flames. Pieces of the old
French vessels, and artillery, shells and scraps of camp fittings have
been found in the neighborhood.

Dalhousie with its extensive water front, divided between river and bay
shore, its streets of generous length and proportion and its pleasant
walks and cool air, is a quiet place for summer enjoyments. Here, as at
Campbellton, there are splendid opportunities for motor-boating open to
those who take their own boats. There is a very comfortable and homelike
summer hotel on the ocean front, about two miles from the Intercolonial
Railway station. Here boats are provided free of charge to guests. There
is excellent bathing, with good country and coastwise walks and rambles.
A pleasant life with restful surroundings may be enjoyed here. The
islands off the shore make pleasant objectives for boating trips, and
the natural arch of rock in a little sandy cove, reached through the
fields, is a good direction in which to take a quiet stroll. The beach
is very enjoyable, and ladies spend many happy hours here watching the
children boating and playing in the sand.


Charlo River is one of that fine chain of watering places or summer
resorts that stretches down the River and Gulf of St. Lawrence to the
Atlantic shore, following the line of the Intercolonial Railway. From
Charlo, and east, the wide, open waters of the Gulf are gradually
reached; but strong as this district is in water privileges and cool
air, it has other features that are almost greater. For Charlo is one of
those delightful country places where fine woods abound, where glorious
country roads stretch out in many a shady avenue of noble trees, and
where a romantic river dashes and plays over rocks, tumbles over falls,
courses through gorges, ripples under bridges, rests by the meadows and
slumbers under the shady hills. For fishermen it has great attraction,
because it is an “open” stream; but a still greater lure is the fact
that fine salmon are caught there, and the waters are not fished out.
For some reason, probably because of its pure water, salmon often turn
into the Charlo in large numbers. On that account and because of the
total absence of urban life, excellent fishing is the result.

The Charlo is a stream full of beauty, and one that the nature-lover may
enjoy to his heart’s content. The country around and every approach to
the river is clean, picturesque and unspoiled by vandal crowds. There
are no excitements and no startling incidents in the quiet life of the
place. On the other hand, there is every suitable surrounding and
inducement to enjoy nature, to live a life of quiet ease varied by
healthful recreation amidst enjoyable surroundings—a life that best fits
the vacationist for active winter work in the crowded city.

The conformation of the country through which the river runs is such
that fishing may readily be done in many places without boats. Another
advantage is that the river is close at hand. It is not necessary to go
a considerable distance before a line may be well cast, for a short walk
leads to woodland depths, leafy shade and the secluded, rippling stream.

[Illustration: CHARLO RIVER]

  1. Natural Arch, Dalhousie
  2. The Rippling Charlo
  3. Tea in the Woods, Charlo River
  4. Fishing in the Charlo River
  5. Charlo Falls
  6. Jacquet River


A pleasant and comfortable place is found at Henderson’s, near the bay
shore, not far from the mouth of the Charlo River, where there is a
combination of country hotel, farmhouse and home. Here visitors will
feel at home from the moment they arrive.

The house, built somewhat on the old French plan with an open court
behind and upper story verandas, has excellent porches surrounding it, a
pleasant outlook, and the bay shore a short distance in its rear
accessible for boating and bathing.

Bungalows are being erected, and a very enjoyable social life is enjoyed
by the happy fraternity that congregates here from various parts of
Canada and the U.S.A. A plan sometimes followed is that of living in a
simple but comfortable bungalow on the shore, taking meals at the inn.
Shacks and tents are also put up by the proprietor for those who wish to
enjoy outdoor life to its full extent.

Charlo, then, is one of those rare places where the sportsman may take
his wife and family, with the certainty of being comfortably housed and
cared for, and where all may amuse themselves with quiet recreations of
a healthful kind while he is away fishing the stream for the noble
salmon. It is also one of those summer places where there are no
throngs, and where the number found assembled in the summer time is just
right for social blending in one happy colony. When the fishermen have
returned, and all have admired the day’s catch, and when supper is over,
how pleasant as twilight is setting in to gather on the porches for
intercourse, to recline in easy chair, or to swing lazily in hammock for

And as the young people wander off in “twos” and “threes,” but mostly in
“twos,” to see the glorious sunset from the porch of a St. Lawrence
bungalow or cottage; the fisherman, the nature-lover, the charming bevy
of young married ladies, their attentive husbands, the sedate couples of
riper age, and even the militant suffragette who did not go off in one
of the “twos”—all these gather to enjoy the _dolce far niente_ of a
cool, summer evening in Charlo.

A larger stream than the Charlo, but one that has its fishing rights
leased, is the Jacquet River. Arrangements may easily be made, however,
by which a day or two or a week’s fishing, or longer, may be obtained at
moderate cost. There is a growing feeling in many pleasant places, such
as Jacquet River, that individual fishing rights retard the growth of a
place, and it is likely that here and in other districts leading men of
the neighborhood will buy in the fishing rights, not for their own use,
but to charge a reasonable fee by the day or week for those who would
then come to fish.

[Illustration: Charlo—A Path through the Woods]

The whole neighborhood of the Jacquet River is a pleasant one, with good
woods and shady roads. There is a picturesque little cove, with high and
rocky banks, where boats may be kept, and the sandy beach of which
offers a desirable spot for children’s play. The upper reaches of the
river are quite pretty, the drives are good, and the country is well
varied with hill and dale.

Passing east along the bay shore and dipping south by the water-bend
that forms Nepisiguit Bay, the town of Bathurst is reached. This, one of
the principal sporting centres of the province, is in itself a pleasant
summer resort, and, in addition, is a starting point for a series of
inner country places, as well as for tours and journeys over the
Nepisiguit River and to the interior lakes. The town is situated on a
tidal lagoon which is an inlet from the great Chaleur Bay. The
Nepisiguit and three smaller rivers empty their waters here, and one of
these, the Tête-a-gauche, or Fairy River, has a small but very
picturesque fall. The Nepisiguit, as is well known, is one of the finest
salmon rivers of the province, and the Nepisiguit Lakes teem with trout.
Moose, deer and game birds are also here in abundance. Guides and canoes
may be obtained in the district. Those interested in hunting and fishing
should consult Chapters IV. and XV. where other information of the kind
is given.


Pabineau, the Grand Falls of the Nepisiguit, and the upper waters of the
river may all be reached from Nepisiguit Junction, from whence the short
line of the Northern New Brunswick Railway leads, and by which a way to
these places and the inner lakes is opened. In this direction many
pleasant outings may be enjoyed. To picnic by the rushing rapids, or on
a bluff in full view of the falls, is a unique experience and one that
will be long remembered. The short railroad referred to, which connects
Bathurst with the iron mines of the Nepisiguit, is a regular sporting
highway—in summer for the fishing, and in the fall for hunting.

The eastern arm of the Chaleur Bay is traversed by a railroad that runs
from Gloucester Junction and Bathurst to Caraquet, Shippegan and
Tracadie. There are several quiet places on this shore that are quite
quaint, and suited for those who wish to be off the main route of
travel. Caraquet is a pleasant little Acadian settlement where sea
fishing is carried on. Shippegan is on an excellent harbor, and here
deep-sea fishing and cool air may be enjoyed. From Shippegan a crossing
may be made by boat to the island of the same name, a distance of about
a mile. From Miscou Harbor, at the northern end of Shippegan Island, a
crossing may be made in quiet water to the outermost island of Miscou,
or a boat may be taken instead from Caraquet. Both of these islands
afford the best of wild-bird shooting in the fall, such as geese, duck,
plover, etc. Miscou is an old French settlement, and from its harbor
many boats were formerly engaged in walrus hunting. Off Miscou a curious
fresh-water spring spouts up through the briny sea and retains its
freshness. Fishermen obtain drinking water here without the necessity
for going ashore.

[Illustration: Poling up Stream]

The whole Chaleur shore from the region of Charlo River down to Bathurst
is a network of small rivers and streams where trout may always be
found; and because of their favorable position the pleasant towns and
villages that line this coast are sure to grow and increase in favor as
summer places.

[Illustration: By the Miramichi River]

          _The Miramichi River and Nashwaak Valley Districts_


Proceeding south on the Intercolonial Railway, the important centre of
Newcastle on the Miramichi River is reached. Here the fine river
Miramichi empties into Miramichi Bay, passing first through the
island-protected inner bay that makes such a broad approach to Chatham
and the wide Miramichi at Newcastle. The prosperous towns of Chatham and
Newcastle are therefore natural centres for outfitting and starting on
river journeys of such extent that the whole of Central New Brunswick
may easily be reached; and not only that, but also Tobique River and the
west, the St. John and Madawaska to the far west, the Restigouche and
Matapedia Rivers to the north-west, the Upsalquitch and Nepisiguit
Rivers to the north, the Nashwaak and St. John Rivers to the south-west,
and Grand Lake, Canaan and Kennebecasis Rivers and the Bay of Fundy to
the south are all made accessible by the Miramichi River.

This grand system of waterways has no parallel elsewhere. Canoeing,
fishing, etc., over such an extensive chain of rivers is a joy that,
once tasted, calls back the happy nature lover again and again to the
fascination of continued exploration in a country that is full of
variety and beauty.

By this time the traveller has fairly entered New Brunswick, and he
cannot have failed to observe many differences between this province and
that he has recently left. Quebec is the old world, with scarcely
anything of the new in it, save its scenery, distinctive of the Western
Continent. New Brunswick, in its life, seems to typify admirably the
happy position occupied by all Canada, a position midway between that of
Old England and the great republic to the south. With a strong sheet
anchor of conservatism and respect for old and tried institutions
fastened firmly in Britain’s shore, the far-reaching and unbreakable
cable, or indissoluble bond, of attachment and love for the mother
country reaches out; but the sails of the ship of state are not furled,
and the good ship _Canada_ does not ride inactive while the breezes of
modern progress and thought pass idly over her bare spars; for her sails
are unfurled and turned to the growing breeze, and when that wind blows
steadily from one direction instead of in cats-paws, eddies and
squalls—the noble vessel will draw up on her anchor, and her canvas will
fill to the breeze as she sails steadily forward.


And so the New Brunswicker, if you ask him how he is, will not reply,
like our British Cousin, “Quite well, thank you; how are you?” Nor will
he tell you he feels “great” or “fine”, like our American cousin.
Instead, he will tell you he is “Not too bad!” which, as will be
apparent, is about half way between the other expressions. If you ask a
New Brunswicker, “Is it going to rain to-day?” he will reply, “I don’t
think!” Do not be deceived. This does not mean that he does _not_ think;
it is his way of saying “I think not.” He will be found genial, pleasant
and manly, with a keen eye to the main chance, but not making money his
worship—as yet.

Miramichi Bay, or “Bay of Boats,” was visited by Jacques Cartier. So
many savages put out in their canoes that the bay was literally covered
by them—hence the name. Indeed, Cartier had to fire off cannon to
frighten them away lest they should swarm on and overrun his little
vessels. The next day the explorer made friends with the Indians by
giving a red hat to their chief.

The town of Chatham has a particularly fine situation near the mouth of
the river. Here large ocean steamships load their cargoes of pulpwood
blocks, timber and lumber, etc., for all parts of the world. It is a
splendid point for fitting out with fishing and hunting equipment, and a
convenient base for hunting, fishing and camping-out parties. Enjoyable
shorter trips may be taken down the bay to Tabusintac, Neguac and
Portage Island, as well as to Fox island, Loggieville and Escuminac.
Some of these places are excellent for trout and wild-birds.

At Kent Junction, south of Chatham, on the line of the Intercolonial
Railway, train connections may be made for Kouchibouguac Bay, the
Kouchibouguacis River, and also for the pleasant resort of Richibucto.

[Illustration: On the Miramichi River]

Newcastle is another centre, equipping-point and starting-place for
river trips, fishing, hunting, etc. It has a fine situation on Miramichi
Bay, and considerable shipping may be seen at the wharves and mills on
the water front. On this river, as on the rivers of New Brunswick
generally, the extent of the lumbering operations may be judged from the
timber rafts and immense quantities of logs floating down stream on
their way to the timber-booms and saw-mills.

There is a pleasant trip up the Miramichi by steamer as far as Red Bank,
and down the bay to Chatham, and seaward there are other interesting
steamer routes. Newcastle makes a very pleasant summer stopping-place,
as it is quite convenient to many places of interest in the

From Derby Junction on one side of the river and from Chatham Junction
on the other, two Intercolonial lines run by the Miramichi to
Blackville, where they join. From this point the line runs to
Fredericton along the river valley, and, from where the Miramichi turns
westward, the railroad keeps its southern course and follows the
Nashwaak river to its junction with the St. John.

The Indian word Miramichi means “Happy Retreat,” and this describes its
character not only for the old-time “Children of the Forest,” but for
the summer visitor as well. It is one of the largest and most important
rivers of the province. It has its source in a lake not far from the
distant Tobique River. It flows with considerable rapidity in some
places, and in the main over a bed of shingle and gravel. The North-West
and the Little South-West branches are dotted with pleasant little
hamlets in their lower reaches. The Renous, Dungarvon, Batholomew and
Cain’s Rivers all discharge into its lower waters, and well above
Blackville the pretty little Taxis River at Boiestown marks the westerly
turn of the main or South-West Miramichi. At Cross Creek the easterly
running Nashwaak turns abruptly south, and over the heights and along
this picturesque valley the railway reaches the St. John River, and
crosses over it to the southern bank on which Fredericton is so
beautifully placed.


In addition to the main river and its large tributaries, there are
numerous smaller streams and brooks that plash and fall or glide
smoothly along to swell the Miramichi; and there is hardly a town or
village along the route just traced that does not afford good fishing
and hunting, as well as all the joys the nature-lover knows well he will
find in such a superbly-watered and well-wooded country. For touring to
see the beauties of nature, for drives from the principal centres, and
for walking expeditions, no richer or prettier country could be found.
This is also the very heart of a great hunting country. Indeed, it is a
common thing to look from the passing train and see the deer browsing
and bounding gracefully within a stone’s throw of the track, or standing
motionless by the edge of some nearby thicket.

The Nashwaak itself has its own network of pretty little tributaries,
not least of which is the charming Tay; and here as in so many parts of
New Brunswick it is difficult to alight at random in a place that has
not water and canoeing facilities.

[Illustration: Canoeing on the St. John River]

The following description of a canoe trip on the Nashwaak is typical of
hundreds of similar journeys that can be taken along the course recently
traced, and indeed on any of the rivers and waterways, great and small,
with which the province is so liberally endowed. As it is most
convenient to make this particular excursion from Fredericton, that
place is taken as the starting point from which the canoe puts out.

It is a bright morning, the air is playing in a gentle breeze, and the
St. John River gleams with many a dancing ripple as we take our way well
up stream to drop down quietly with the current as we drink in the
glorious view on every hand. Higher up, where the banks become bolder,
the lumbermen’s piers of stone, cribbed in with timber, and overgrown
with young tree shoots and wild-flowers in profusion, line the centre of
the stream like so many ornamental gardens.

Yon shimmering surface in the distant valley, at the foot of a bold
hill, is not a placid lake bathed in the beams of the early sun—it is a
white and fleecy morning mist catching the side rays horizontally and
reflecting them in long pencils of light.


  1. Boating on the Nashwaak
  2. A New Brunswick Waterfall
  3. Boating on the Nashwaaksis
  4. Armstrong’s Brook, Jacquet River
  5. New Brunswick Farm Scene—Pigs in Clover

At times the hills and woodland over there terminate abruptly in long
stretches of perfectly smooth meadow-land, stretching out like a
well-laid carpet, and with only an occasional high tree by the edge to
mark the course of the river.

We are nearly opposite the Nashwaak, and paddling across the northern
half of the broad St. John we reach the rich meadows that lie at the
mouth of the stream upon which we shall soon float.

Gliding up stream with easy paddling, the covered bridge is reached and
we thread our way through the loose floating boards and made-up rafts of
deal that mark the lumberman’s highway. A little further up, however, a
stop is made, for here is a boom of heavy timbers, chained directly
across the stream. We soon find a place where there is a clear waterway
near the shore, some three or four feet wide, and pushing through this
we speed on.

But the rippling murmur of water falls on our ears, and looking ahead we
see the wavelets, eddies and bubbles that mark a swiftly flowing
current. Bending to with a will, and at times using the paddle as a pole
in very stiff water, we manage to work our way up higher.

And now another obstruction is met, a boom that completely closes the
way, with no water passageway of any kind. And so, keeping inshore and
balancing on one of the logs, while using one hand for support against
the almost perpendicular bank, we pull the canoe over the boom, step in,
and once more proceed on our way.


The lively kingfisher makes flights up the stream in advance of our
progress, sweeping down at times with unerring eye to seize his prey
from under the surface of the water, and then resting on some projecting
tree branch he gives opportunity for admiring his comely appearance
before our near presence warns him to renewed flight. Well up above the
water, but skimming the trees and brushing the leaves as he flies, he
keeps us company, and soon is joined by other merry fellows that make
the way lively.


Here is a huge eagle with a wing-spread of five or six feet, at least.
Seemingly unafraid, he drops almost alongside on the bank that runs down
to a flat sand strip; and as he stands still as we pass, we can see the
pure white of his head and tail, and notice his powerful wings as he
again soars in the air.

Wild canaries, also, are quite numerous; and the canoe voyager on the
Nashwaak has no lack of pleasant company.

Several pieces of swift water have been passed, and at one point where
the river meets an island and has a steep descent and sharp bend of the
channel, the rushing fall of water carries us nearly into the shore; and
it takes both paddles to make any progress by “poling” or pushing on the
bottom of the river.

[Illustration: Under the Dam—Nashwaak River]

Going further, we look with apprehension on an apparently insurmountable
barrier in the form of an immense log, wedged solidly across stream
between the high banks, with a very narrow channel and, of course,
plenty of rushing water. The log does not touch the water, being held in
position about a foot, or less, above it. Holding to the huge barrier we
force the head of the canoe beneath it, and pressing down with united
weight we manage to get past by scrambling over the log and dropping
into the canoe as it passes clear.

[Illustration: On the Nashwaak River]

A very pretty stretch of water now marks the gradual approach to the
Marysville dam, and here occasional streaks of rapid water are found as
the channel contracts. At last we reach the foaming run, or rapid, just
below the fall, and a lively time ensues before the canoe is brought
right under the curtain of the waterfall. Turning now to descend, the
full current of the rapid is behind. Watching until we head right, and
planning to reach a quiet pool below, to rest awhile, our skilful guide
propels us boldly into the midst of the foaming current.

Hurrah! This is fine! We are where the current is swiftest, and where
waves curl and boil over with dashing foam. There! a sheet of white
spray! and we have tasted the Nashwaak. We take the water like a duck,
are whisked past the point at a tremendous speed, and then, with a
powerful stroke of the paddle, we make a quick and giddy turn—to find
ourselves in still water, taking a few moments of well-earned rest.

While the Nashwaak, in the main, may be termed a meadow stream, it has
many places in its upper waters where high and rugged banks, wild
woodland and steep fall make scenes of romantic beauty. It is not open
in the sense that a canoe may go all over its course without meeting
obstruction, as may be done on so many other rivers in the province. It
is one of those small streams that many prefer just for the fun of
making easy portages and crossing such barriers as those described, as
well as over occasional bars of sand or gravel in shoal places.

A journey of 20 to 25 miles may be taken up stream in this way. One in
each canoe is best for the upper waters. There are pleasant little
settlements all along the shore, and simple refreshment may be obtained,
as well as sleeping accommodation, if the canoeist desires to prolong
the trip and take time to see the inner country at his ease.

[Illustration: Calling the Ferry, St. John River]

               _Fredericton and the Upper St. John River_


No matter how Fredericton may be approached, from north, east, south or
west, by land or water, train, carriage, in steamboat or canoe, the
impression sure to be received, as the capital is neared, is that of
forest depths, great rivers and immense natural resources. A feeling of
admiration and awe, akin to that felt by our humble Indian brother as he
roamed the depths of these noble forests, casts a spell over the
thinking mind. “For,” says Bryant in his ‘Forest Hymn’:—

                          “His simple heart
  Might not resist the sacred influences
  Which, from the stilly twilight of the place,
  And from the gray old trunks that high in heaven
  Mingled their mossy boughs, and from the sound
  Of the invisible breath that swayed at once
  All their green tops, stole over him, and bowed
  His spirit with the thought of boundless power
  And inaccessible majesty.”

[Illustration: ST. JOHN RIVER, above Fredericton]

As is meet and proper, we do not plunge into the hurly-burly of modern
life in Fredericton, the capital city of the province. Instead, we reach
a peaceful, tree-embowered and altogether delightful forest city. Here
is refinement of life and civilization enough to meet all reasonable
demands, yet back of all there still reigns the too-quickly-vanishing
spirit of rest, the absence of haste, the old-time simplicity. How
delightful if all towns and cities were no larger than charming
Fredericton, with its modest 8000 inhabitants. No trusts! No cold
storage! No horrid skyscrapers! No cars! It sounds too good to be true.
And yet at Fredericton no cars are needed; and, as a result, all who
visit the homelike capital will know more of it than they possibly do of
their own city. Here it is a delight to walk and ramble; and, of course,
driving is a great joy with such woodland surroundings and fine river
scenery. An inhabitant of Fredericton once actually expressed a desire
to live in New York! Incredible! Impossible! you cry. And so say all of
well-balanced mind. But mortals do not always know when they are well
off; and a fit of temporary insanity sometimes gains a flitting lodgment
in the brightest mind.


Few cities are better or as well situated as Fredericton. It stands on
the noble St. John, which here is nearly three quarters of a mile wide.
The five older streets and the two newer ones all run parallel with the
river. There are shady trees on pleasant streets wherever you go. In the
heart of the city you are still in the country. Nature everywhere is so
profuse and abundant that it almost shuts out the view of Cathedral
Church and Parliament Buildings, and enwraps fountain, statue and
river-bank-seat with its wealth of foliage; while in many a shady street
the tree branches knock at the house windows for admittance, and place
smiling clusters of bloom in the hands of those who throw open the
casement in response to the call.

Queen Street is the principal thoroughfare. At its west end is the
substantial building known as Government House, the official residence
of the Lieutenant-Governor of New Brunswick. Between Queen Street and
the river, in a central situation, are the large barracks that were
formerly the headquarters of the British army in this province. At the
lower end of the street is the handsome Parliament Building, where a
small but choice library may be consulted, and from the dome of which
building an extensive view may be enjoyed.


Christ Church Cathedral, the recent fire damage to which has been
repaired, is patterned after that delightful type of old English church
seen in many a quaint parish of the distant motherland. It has a
graceful spire and pretty interior, with a beautiful stained glass
chancel window presented by the Episcopal Church in the United States.

The substantial building so firmly seated on the southern hills is the
University of New Brunswick, the higher education centre of the
province. Here there is a geological museum; and from the cupola of the
building a wide view may be had of the river and surrounding country.

The glory of Fredericton is the St. John River with its fine scenery and
numerous excursions up and down stream; nor must there be forgotten the
added pleasure of sailing over the tributary streams such as the
Nashwaak, the Nashwaaksis, the Keswick, the Oromocto, the Jemseg, etc.;
and of reaching Grand and Washademoak Lakes, and the numerous smaller
lakes that are all about.

There are excursions up the river to Woodstock and the numerous
riverside places on the way. It is even possible to go all the way to
Grand Falls by water. Then the St. John River steamboats go down the
river daily to St. John and the towns and villages along the banks of
the river.

Nearly opposite Fredericton at the mouth of the Nashwaak formerly stood
an old French fort erected by Villebon. Acadian refugees flocked to Ste.
Anne at the time of the “Expulsion,” and sought refuge under the
protection of the fort; but after the American Revolutionary War the
exiled American Loyalists drove away the Acadians to Madawaska, and
settled themselves along the shore in their place.

A world of pleasant exploration lies above the Grand Falls in the upper
waters of the St. John and its tributaries, but this region while quite
accessible from Fredericton, is somewhat remote for the average summer
visitor, and the Middle St. John from Grand Falls to Fredericton is the
district herein described.

Like many of the great rivers that have numerous tributaries and
increase in their descent almost to the proportions of inland seas, the
middle waters of the St. John, deep in places, have shallow reaches and
rapids where the current is very swift. Some distance above Fredericton
it becomes turbulent and foaming in many a seething descent; but it is
possible to take an outing over a considerable distance, without
portages, in a canoe with two men using poles.

A swift motor-canoe of light draft may easily make a two-days’ journey
up, giving four days on the St. John, with stops for meals, etc., at
convenient places. The river is sufficiently well settled to lay out in
advance a plan for stopping-places for meals, as well as for resting or
putting-up at night. This is much more convenient and not nearly so
expensive as taking guides and tent equipment, food and cooking
utensils, etc.

[Illustration: Boiling the Kettle]

For those who desire to spend several weeks on the river it is necessary
to have guides, canoes and tent equipment, especially if remote places
are to be visited. There can be no doubt that camping out on the St.
John is one of the most delightful ways of spending a healthful
vacation. A plan by which the expense of guides may be avoided is that
of camping out in a choice place not far from a settlement, or a farm,
and where there is plenty of recreation in walks, sailing the river,
fishing for trout, etc., without the necessity for exploring the
untrodden woods. Where any kind of exploration is to be done, or
unfrequented places visited, it will be understood that guides are
necessary; and it is illegal to go without them for hunting, etc.

In camping on the river to enjoy boating, bathing, fishing and outdoor
life, the plan is recommended of employing someone in Fredericton to
take out the party and equipment, and leave them in a locality where
supplies, such as milk, bread, etc., are easily obtained. At the
expiration of the fine holiday that will thus be enjoyed, those employed
to bring out the party will come and take them back to Fredericton.
There are many springs of cool and sparkling water all along the whole
route, and farms on both sides of the river where produce, poultry,
butter and eggs, as well as bread, may be bought by previous
arrangement. To have the full pleasure of the river in such an outing, a
canoe or row boat of very light draft should be left with the camping
party, and poles as well as paddles or oars should be provided.

In addition to choosing a convenient place for water, shade and
supplies, etc., care should be taken to place the camp at some point on
the shore where there is a good stretch of easy water for several miles
above and below. This will afford pleasant cruising, without the
constant labor of poling through swift water.

Such a place is the “Reach,” above Long Island, and below Tapley Bar and
the Koack Islands. In the neighborhood of Hawkshaw and Pokiok will also
be found good camping-grounds meeting all needful requirements, and
within easy reach of the Shogomoc River and Lakes. There are other good
places nearer Fredericton if desired. Of course, if there are athletic
young men in the party—not forgetting young women who love outdoor life
and are able to handle pole and paddle—the locality of a difficult piece
of swift water, or even that of a sheer rapid, may purposely be chosen
to have plenty of fun close at hand.


For those who have never yet cut loose from the ties of hotel or other
stopping-place, a vacation of this kind is strongly recommended; for the
freedom and joy of living so close to nature, and, it may truthfully be
added, nature at her best, is an experience that brings back youth to
the middle-aged, and exuberance of spirits to young and old alike.

Oh! the fascination of the musical rapid, and ah! the glory of the
starlit evening with its gentle breeze and its hours of calm repose
followed by sweet and health-giving sleep—the tent well open to the
fragrance of the balmy air.

As an example of a pleasant excursion from Fredericton, an account of a
two-days’ journey of some 45 miles up the St. John in a motor-canoe is
now given, and this could be extended to a trip of some weeks, or even
months, by exploring the upper tributaries to their headwaters. Many of
the places nearer Fredericton may be reached, and the starting point
regained, in a day, or even in half a day, and the route may constantly
be varied by taking the different tributaries in turn.

A start was made from Fredericton in the early morning; and, in addition
to handbag and raincoat, a bag of fruit was taken to give variety to our
meals at the farmhouses along the river.

Our eighteen-foot canoe with a 2½ h.p. motor, piloted by the able and
obliging Davidson, of Fredericton, started gaily up-stream and passed
under the graceful iron town-bridge—the sun behind thick banks of cloud,
and apparently threatening rain. As the clouds screened us from the hot
rays of an August sun, we took little thought of the dark sky: for we
knew by experience that such a beginning often ended in a bright and
clear noonday.

After splendid running for a few miles, we tied up at Springhill and
climbed the path up the bank to the lumber-camp and boarding-house
above. Here were roadside inns in the olden days, with their quaint
names, such as “Dewdrop inn,” or “Rest and be Thankful.” Here the jolly
and amphibious red-shirted raftsmen used to congregate, and here, too,
their good-hearted successors make their down-river headquarters.

It took a few minutes to prepare our breakfast of coffee, toast, fresh
eggs from the fine poultry run, and new milk from the cows browsing in
the pretty tree-bordered meadows hard by.


Breakfasting and taking a refreshing draught of cool spring water, we
regained our canoe, and as the upward course was resumed the sun burst
through its cloudy barrier and shone down with cheering effect. Passing
Percy Bar and the Keswick Islands we have an opportunity of testing the
important question of speed, for in the narrower channels the current
has a velocity of four to six miles an hour, and sometimes even faster.

Before entering a rapid or piece of swift water, we carefully oil the
working parts of the motor, and see that everything is in trim for our
struggle against the stream. Off we go for our first tussle, and in a
minute more we are in swift water, with circling eddies and a foam-lined

The water is higher than usual, owing to recent rain and well-swollen
tributaries. The whole current of the great river flows through the one
channel we have just entered. Fortunately, the river is deep here, and
it gives a good hold for our rapidly revolving screw. The engine working
well, the lever is pushed to “full-speed,” and in a moment we are
cleaving the water into two high ridges at our bow, while the throbbing
motor settles down to its best speed.

We look ashore a little anxiously, it must be admitted, for we appear
unequal to our task, the trees alongside and the rocks by the shore
holding fixed positions on our beam. It is only for a moment, however,
for soon we creep along shore, slowly, very slowly; and yet we are
gaining. After half-an-hour’s steady going we emerge into a wider
channel, the current loses its force and now we go ahead with increasing

Here we are in a run that is clear save for the quantities of logs
floating downstream, and which are being gathered in and made up into
rafts to be towed or guided with poles to the maws of the rapacious
mill. The long boom of logs fastened together end-wise, the walking
platform and the small floating shanty, together with the constant
downward stream of logs of all sizes going down singly, in “twos” and
“threes,” and, at times, in great bunches, all make an interesting
incident in the trip; and to thread a devious way in and out of the
swiftly passing timber keeps our rudder in constant oscillation as we
follow the ever-changing path.


Here is Lunt’s Ferry. We see the high, steel cable strung across the
river, with the running block and gang ropes connecting it with the
side-railed flat barge or ferry. These floats are often propelled across
stream by the force of the current. Just as a ship makes headway by the
side wind running off her sails obliquely, so does a boat cross a stream
by the action of the tide, if care is taken to have the boat’s head
turned partly against the current. The boat being fastened to a
transverse cable and running block to prevent it from being driven down
stream, the tide strikes the hull obliquely and causes progression in
that direction towards which the boat is headed. When the tide is
sluggish a gasolene boat is frequently used to ensure more rapid
progress. Moored alongside, it soon pushes the ferry across; and when
traffic is active this is the best motive power.

[Illustration: Wanawassis Falls]

Soon we run under high bluffs and notice the fine growth of woods
covering the almost perpendicular heights, and which touch the side of
the steep slope with their projecting side branches. The varying shades
of green in the woodland, the giddy height, the far-extending reflection
in the now sunlit river, all combine in a beautiful picture; and again
are we tempted to land and drink of a sparkling stream that can be seen
flowing down the mountain side in a minute but clearly-defined rivulet.

Giving the engine a few minutes’ rest, we again push on, and, after
passing French Village, the pretty little Macinquac stream joins ours on
the right, and directly under the picturesque bluff, with its quaint
white church showing like a beacon through the trees, a landing is made
and we push our canoe tip into the mouth of the little stream, drinking
in the while all the beauties that are on every hand.

Once more afloat, for we are thinking of a place for dinner, and we wish
to find refreshment without waiting. In this way we may push forward and
cover the considerable distance of swift water that intervenes before we
reach our destination where we are to sup and lodge.

Fortunately, a suitable place is fairly close at hand, and, dinner over,
we resume our course upstream. The engine now “kicks-up” a little, as
all self-respecting motors must do, sooner or later. Again oiling the
parts, we push from off-shore again, for we had pulled in to avoid being
drawn down by the current, and thus losing ground.

But we do lose ground, for when we push off into deep water to give the
screw a chance to revolve without chipping the rocks, the canoe is
turned right around, and downstream we go, the engine obstinately
refusing a single turn.

Back to the shore we go with paddle, and after a few operations with the
motorist’s beloved tool, the wrench, and sundry squirts here and there
from his much cherished oil-can, the engine starts to revolve with
savage energy. It came so unexpectedly that we are off full speed
downstream before we recover. Putting the helm over we head up the river
and are just settling down to regain the lost way, when—the engine


“Variety is the spice of life,” so we take to the shore again and hold
fast to a log conveniently stranded for our use. These little incidents,
it may be remarked, give added pleasure to the excursion, and for the
true motorist they supply that fulness and joy in life that cannot be
obtained in any other way. This time the real seat of the trouble is
found—moisture bridging the spark-gap.

Hurrah! Now we are off, in real earnest, and triumphant smiles come
quickly as swift water is passed and we finally get over Big Bear Island
Bar with only a few glancing knocks of the propeller on a stray rock or

Twilight has come and gone. The trees are still, and not a breath
ripples the long and straight course of the river wide and ghostly, and
reaching into darkness at the end of a lengthy vista that is only dimly
defined—partly by the tall trees on each side, but more by the patch of
faint light that falls on the water down the avenue before us. Gray
forms float on the surface of the stream, turning a ghostly white as
they near us. We look over to examine more closely, and find small
floating islets of froth or foam, made hours before far up, and now
borne on the glassy surface of the tranquil stream, gathering in size as
they descend, or breaking against obstructions and vanishing suddenly
out of sight.

Soon the surface of the river shows a pale gleam of light, and the white
trunks of the silver birches begin to lose their spectral appearance as
they stand out, one by one, from the dense pall of overhanging foliage.
We look behind and enjoy to the full that glorious spectacle, moonrise
on a wide and beautiful river, in a country rich in mountain and vale;
and as the increasing light brings into view one feature after another
of the unfolding landscape, we marvel at its beauty, and at the softness
and delicacy of all when pencilled by that companion and friend of the
traveller by night—the gentle moon.

As we look behind at the dancing wavelets left in our wake, the crest of
each gleams white and brilliant ere it subsides in milky foam; while
down the widening and rippling channel just made by the revolving screw
a thousand gleams of light are refracted into a glorious play of
ever-changing color.

The sound of the motor is jarring when viewing a scene so fair. So
turning the canoe and stopping the engine, we drift inshore to view the
surroundings in perfect quiet.

How bright the planets show when seen from a deep valley on such a
night, and how marvellous and grand the sight when from almost total
darkness and confused or indistinguishable detail the whole beauty of
the view steals out, line by line, giving time to admire each new
feature as it springs into sight, until finally the whole glorious
landscape and wondrous river are spread before in a soft blending of
light and shade impossible to adequately picture or describe.

Reluctantly, though supperless, we turn our canoe and continue our way
upstream. We are now on a river of molten silver, floating down a path
at once fantastic and beautiful. The reflected and inverted banks of the
river are close to us on each hand, the tree branches sharply outlined
and gently quivering under the influence of a balmy zephyr that now
steals with velvet touch over the surface of the water.

Are we really in cloudland? we ask, so spiritual is the scene—and as if
to dispel all uncertainty a distant gleam of light reveals the far-away
course of the river, as it seems to pass on to the sky, where it flows
through the splendid portals of a gorgeous palace built in the clouds
and limned with outlines of pale silver by the artist moon.

“All journeys have an end.” Journeys are also said to “end in lover’s
greetings.” Sometimes, however, they terminate with a fine supper cooked
by the obliging wife of a good-hearted farmer for two supperless men
dropped from the clouds, as it were, one hour before midnight. And here
we are at Davidson’s Ferry, a good supper with a night’s repose on a
comfortable bed surely making a happy ending for one part of our trip.

After a 6 o’clock breakfast next morning the canoe is headed up the
lovely St. John—for are we not bound to reach the Nacawick stream,
Pokiok, the narrow gulf, and its waterfall, Clare Mountain, the Meductic
Fall and the Shogomoc Rapids. And we do reach these in good time, and
after admiring the rocky banks of the river near Hawkshaw, the beautiful
views at Pokiok, the narrow chasm and the little waterfall at the Gulf,
and the bold Clare Mountain, we finally reach our goal—the Shogomoc
Rapids. Here we turn inshore in full view and sound of the famed swift


What an exhilarating spectacle, and how the waters dash, foam and roar
as they are hurled headlong down the steep descent. What a splendid
place to camp anywhere near here—one would surely never tire of such
delightful surroundings. As we sit and watch the water assume
ever-changing forms, we think of the Indians and their life on these
waters in the long ago, and in fancy we see them mounting the crests of
the billows and passing up and down the river in perfect safety.

Up and down is doubtless wrong, for who could propel a boat upstream
against a foaming current going over ten miles an hour, and often nearer
fifteen! Discussing this with our guide, he declares he feels like going
up in the motor-canoe as far as he can, and, he adds, “By George, I
believe I can get through!” We laugh him to scorn. He persists in trying
it. At last we decide to join in the experience.

We oil up and make all ready. Off we go! right into the midst of the
foam at the lower end of the rapids. The engine works furiously at full
speed while we watch results.

We are making rapid progress in the wrong direction; for working full
speed ahead, we gain just enough way to get into the direct current and
then downstream we go, stern first, Davidson joining in the laugh at his
expense. “Never mind,” we say, “we were right in the midst of it, and
the boat did splendidly.”


[Illustration: FREDERICTON]

  1. Waterloo Row, Fredericton
  2. York Street, Fredericton
  3. Walnut Park, Fredericton
  4. Phoenix Square, Fredericton

Is there need to describe the pleasures of the return journey? How our
host of the previous night, Davidson’s brother—who had come with us from
his ferry to the rapids—insisted on our stopping off at his house for
dinner; how we did so and found by experience that city “cream” has a
very rich but distant relative known as “country cream” which turns tea
into nectar. Nor is there need for a description of how we operated the
ferry, said “good-bye” and went downstream—wind, current and gasolene
all in our favor—at a clip of twelve miles an hour and sometimes faster;
nor how we sped by the men poling their rafts downstream, giving them
time only to greet us with a friendly call and wave of the hand before
we were well by; or how we gasolened triumphantly into Fredericton by
eight at night, just in time for a nice supper at the hostelry near to
the steamboat landing, and to take a little turn on the Promenade before
retiring for sleep that came so fast as to almost close our eyes before
head could be well cushioned in downy pillow........ all the details
attending these various incidents must be left to the imagination: and
also those of the moose we saw in the woods, the wild birds on the wing,
the flocks of wild ducks in the water—twenty and more at a time—that
allowed us to pass close by without taking fright, the young deer that
watched us cunningly from woodland and thicket, the partridges, the
soaring eagles, the leaping salmon, and the fishermen hauling in their
well-stocked nets.


On the way to Pokiok two small streams are passed, the Indian names of
which have been humorously embodied in the last two lines of this
extract from De Mille:—

  “Sweet maiden of Passamaquoddy,
    Shall we seek for communion of souls
  Where the deep Mississippi meanders
    Or the distant Saskatchewan rolls?

  Ah no! in New Brunswick we’ll find it—
    A sweetly sequestered nook—
  Where the sweet gliding Skoodawabskooksis
    Unites with the Skoodawabskook.”

Few who reach Fredericton and the Middle St. John River will care to
turn back without seeing the Grand Falls. It is one of the three
greatest cataracts of the upper continent. It has almost a perpendicular
drop, and the volume of water falling and thundering on “Split Rock”
below is a sight to be long remembered. A great column of spray
surmounts the lower rocks, and throws to the bright sunlight a play of
rainbow-color with beautiful effect against the sombre foam-washed
rocks. It is a splendid sight to see great logs passing over the brink.
Even in the channel above great timbers of forty feet in length are
tossed out of the water bodily, and when they are hurled headlong over
the fall and into the depths below—often piled there momentarily, in
almost inextricable confusion—the spectacle has a fascination in it that
compels intent observation. There is a winding gorge below, and there
are places such as “Pulpit Rock,” the hollowed-out “Great Well” and the
“Coffee Mill” whirlpool that are of great interest. Logs are sometimes
caught in the whirlpool, where the fierce spinning round to which they
are subjected rapidly wears away the ends to sharp points, just as they
would be if turned in a lathe.

Of the approach to and general aspect of the cataract, the view from
above is a fine one, for here the river after making a wide and grand
sweep makes an abrupt turn and takes a forty-foot plunge in a solid
mass. In continuous succession below is one fall after another until a
total descent of 80 feet is reached. The water rushes through a high and
winding chasm after it falls by rocky walls that are perpendicular. From
the first fall to the last the water is lashed into angry sheets of
foam; and no matter from where viewed, the scene is impressive and
striking, and holds the onlooker spellbound.


The full significance of the Indian legend connected with this locality
will be realized as the gaze goes over the whole mass of turbulent and
seething water. The legend, in brief, is this:—

Long ago a great war party of 500 Mohawks came by Temiscouata Lake and
the Madawaska River to destroy the Maliceet village of Medoctec on the
St. John. Before they reached the mouth of the Madawaska they surprised
a Maliceet hunter with his family. The man and his family were instantly
killed, but the woman was spared on condition that she should guide the
war party to the doomed village by a safe path. (One version has it that
it was a Maliceet maiden who was thus captured.) She was placed in the
chief’s canoe and guided them safely over the portage by the Madawaska
Falls and into the St. John River.

[Illustration: Tobique Narrows, St. John River]

[Illustration: At Hawkshaw Bridge]

Assured by their guide that there were no more falls to pass, the canoes
were lashed together and drifted down the tide while the weary Mohawks
sank in slumber. By and bye a sound of falling water aroused one of the
chiefs; but being told that it was only the noise of the waterfall at
the mouth of a nearby river, he again slept. But suddenly the full roar
of the tremendous cataract strikes on the ears of the sleepers.
Springing to their feet the horror of the situation is at once apparent.
Paddles are seized and frantic efforts are made to stem the fierce tide.
It is useless, and a terrible cry of despair goes up as they are swept
to the brink of the foaming cataract. She had saved her father and her
native village:

  “Then with a shout of triumph, the Indian maiden cried,
  ‘Listen, ye Mohawk warriors, which sail on Death’s dark tide!
  Never shall earth grave hold you, or wife weep o’er your clay.
  Come to your doom, ye Mohawks, and I will lead the way.’

                                * * * * *

  “And many a day thereafter, beyond the torrent’s roar,
  The swarthy Mohawk dead were found along the river’s shore.
  But on brave Malabeam’s dead face no human eyes were set—
  She lies in the dark stream’s embrace, the river claims her yet.

  “The waters of five hundred years have flowed above her grave,
  But daring deeds can never die while human hearts are brave.
  Her tribe still tell the story, and round their council fires,
  Honor the name of her who died to rescue all their sires.”

Almost needless to state, there are many other legends and tales of the
Indians in connection with their villages that are on the banks of the
St. John above and below Fredericton. The whole district is so full of
beauty, has so many attractions for the vacationist and nature lover,
and is such a superb centre for hunting, fishing, boating, canoeing,
etc., that no one may hope to exhaust its possibilities, even if a
lifetime of summers should be spent in the exploration and unfolding of
all that it contains.

[Illustration: Reversing Fall, St. John River]

            _The City of St. John and Lower St. John River_


Leaving Fredericton at 8 o’clock in the morning, a start is made on the
trip down the river to the city of St. John, the commercial centre of
the province and greatest shipping port on the Bay of Fundy.

The journey is full of interest and variety. There are numerous stops on
each side of the river, and few daylight trips of eight or nine hours
can be taken elsewhere that will compare with this in pleasure. As the
boat cleaves the waters of the winding and continually-widening
waterway, new incidents mark each mile of its progress.

Here is a small tug whose engine capacity is out of all proportion to
its size. It is towing a huge raft of timber, and, notwithstanding the
heavy pull, is making good progress upstream and against the current.
Now, the deep and wide Oromocto River is reached, and a busy scene is
enacted at the wharf as all hands on the steamer are pressed into the
work of loading produce of every kind on board.

We go only a short distance across stream before reaching another
landing, where squash, cucumbers and other vegetables by the barrel, and
in immense quantities, are loaded on the lower decks.

Now a wharf is neared where, it so happens, there are no passengers
awaiting the steamer, and none to get off. A man puts off in a small
boat and makes fast to our boat, well out in the river, transfers some
crates of tomatoes—the vessel still in motion and pushes back to the

Nearing a spot where meadow and rolling upland mark a particularly rich
agricultural district, a great flat barge or hay-boat is almost ahead,
and the steamer slows up to give the boat an opportunity for coming
alongside. She is loaded with fine-looking pressed hay, fresh from the
fields and done up in the usual bales which are piled on the low boat to
such a height as almost to be level with the decks of the large river
steamer. No sooner is the barge made fast than men pour out on to the
hay, and, while we are still proceeding on our downward course the
product of the meadow is quickly stowed away below. It seems only a
minute or two before the empty float rises high out of the water, and
saluting the two men with a wave of the hand as they cast off, we go
ahead under full steam.


A garden country now comes into view, where fair plots of all kinds of
vegetable growth greet the eye in great profusion as we pull inshore.
The wharf is stacked with hundreds of barrels of fresh corn and other
produce destined for St. John as a consuming and distributing point.
There is barely room to move about, but the united forces of steamer
crew and wharf gang make short work of the huge stack, and in a few
minutes all is nicely stowed away on the lower decks. Ingenious packers
they must be down there to stow away such immense quantities so quickly.

Here a delightful little point is passed, dotted with bungalows and
having trim yachts and smart launches moored offshore in a snug little
cove. A very pretty picture of comfort, cool breezes and aquatic
pleasures it makes, and we are just turning out into midstream when a
mellow-toned salute from an upstream passenger boat greets the ear.
Passing to the offshore side of our boat a fine full view is had of a
St. John River steamboat churning a way to Fredericton at full speed,
freighted with a goodly company of happy people all engaged with the
superb views of the noble river.


And now a trading sloop passes by so close that we can call to and
converse with her crew; and here, as elsewhere, evidence is found of the
general courtesy and happy disposition of Maritime Province people, for
the men of the small craft crowd to her side and wave their hands in
pleasant greeting—as much as to say, “You are on the famous St. John;
enjoy it as we do that have been on it all our lives, and love it

[Illustration: ST. JOHN RIVER]

  1. Bluff Camp, near Fredericton
  2. Westfield, St. John River
  3. Willow Avenue, Rothesay


A word to the happy brides and devoted grooms who spread off over summer
highways and byways from June to September, and who appreciate ideal and
romantic scenery on routes that are not too crowded for comfort, and who
like, at times, a little isolation. The St. John River steamers are
roomy and capacious, and they have many little nooks and corners where
there is just room for two, with a little squeezing, and from which the
scenery may be enjoyed with that quiet and ideal environment so suited
for the “two hearts that beat like one.” The little spot near the
Captain’s wheelhouse deserves to be called “Bride’s Corner.” It is so
used, again and again, and from this delightful coign a full view of the
river may be had, and it is also a quiet point of observation for
viewing life on the forward deck of the steamer.

What if it is breezy at times, so that a wisp of golden hair passes
feathery fingers over the bronzed cheek of the happy groom! What if
summer gusts festoon her chiffon veil so that clearer view of peachy
cheeks is revealed, and what if that filmy and insubstantial
shoulder-wrap is displaced by a particularly lively current that comes
from the nearby valley! Surely the happy man does not object to the
delightful opportunities thus given for adjusting refractory draperies,
and for holding them in place with his arm around her shoulder when the
gusts are heaviest. Ah! me.... “Bless you, my children,” we whisper in
benediction. “May your life ever be like a voyage on the tranquil St.

Here is a charming spot, Camp Bedford, only seventeen miles from St.
John, and just the place for the summer homes or bungalows of those who
like some social life, and who do not wish to “commune with nature”
alone in some more remote spot. A number of pleasant cottages line the
heights by the shore, and as the occupants throng the wharf to greet us,
the enjoyment they find in life is reflected in their happy faces.

And so with the numerous choice spots that now follow quickly as our
destination looms up more nearly. Here the great river widens out to
large proportions; and as we pass the frowning cliffs and massive rocks
that mark a way to the harbor, it is apparent that few ports have such
fine approaches as this, few rivers can match this for scenery—scenery
that is unique and all its own. The steamer ties up at St. John at what
is locally known as Indian-town.


The St. John may fairly be termed an Imperial River, for at different
times in the past it has “annexed” large portions of other great rivers,
and turned their waters into her own. Both the Restigouche and Miramichi
Rivers lost heavily in this way. The length of the river is nearly 450
miles, and no better trip could be planned anywhere than one up to the
head waters of this great waterway.

The city of St. John was formerly called Parr Town, but was finally
named from the great stream whose mouth it guards. De Monts and
Champlain discovered and named the St. John River in the year 1604, or
some seventy years after Jacques Cartier’s exploration of the St.
Lawrence. That arm of the Atlantic in front of St. John, and known as
the Bay of Fundy, was originally named La Baye Françoise by De Monts. On
Dochet’s Island in Passamaquoddy Bay the exploration party under De
Monts passed a severe winter. The following summer they left the
neighborhood and founded a colony at Port Royal in a protected basin on
the south shore of the Bay of Fundy. Nearly thirty years later a fort
was built near the mouth of the St. John River by Charles La Tour, a man
who had much to do with the development of the then French province of
Acadia, and whose wife Frances earned undying fame by her noble defense
of the St. John Fort while La Tour was absent in Boston.

  “Of all the gallant Frenchmen whose names and deeds endure
  In old Acadian annals, the greatest was Latour.

                                * * * * *

  He built a potent fortress beside that harbor deep,
  Thro’ which the broad and strong St. John flows with a mighty sweep.

                                * * * * *

  Strong were its earthen bastions, its palisades were tall,
  Heavy and great the cannon that frowned above the wall;
  And bold and true its soldiers, all men of fair Rochelle—
  Stout Huguenots who knew no fear, but loved Latour full well.

                                * * * * *

  But none within that fortress, tho’ tried in many a fray—
  Sons of the gallant men who fought on Ivry’s bloody day—
  Possessed more dauntless courage to dare or to endure,
  So kind and yet so brave a heart, as the wife of Lord Latour.”

The French occupation gave way to the English about the middle of the
eighteenth century, but the real settlement of St. John was made by
United Empire Loyalists, or expatriated loyalists from New England, at
the close of the American Revolutionary War.


St. John is a very homelike and pleasant city where cool sea breezes may
be enjoyed all through the summer. It has restful small park areas or
squares, as well as extensive outlying parks and public gardens, and it
is surrounded by a wealth of drives, resorts, boating places, beaches
and places where all kinds of outdoor sport may be enjoyed. In addition,
over one hundred outlying places of much interest are readily accessible
from it as a centre, and for fishing and hunting it occupies a position
only exceeded by those of the great sporting districts. For maritime
pleasures, deep-sea fishing, etc., it shares supremacy with two or three
other places such as Halifax and Sydney. It has good hotel and other
accommodation, and for chance wet days it has a most excellent public
library. In this connection may also be mentioned the Museum of the
Natural History Society on Union Street.

It was at the foot of what is now King Street, the principal store
thoroughfare, that the American Loyalists landed in 1783 and founded the
city. What are presumed to be the remains of earthworks marking the site
of Fort La Tour may be seen in West St. John at the foot of Middle
Street. It was here that La Tour’s wife, the “Heroine of Acadia,” made
such a gallant defense of her husband’s cause. She is supposed to have
been buried somewhere near where Governor Villebon is known to have been
interred. In this connection the old French cannon on Queen Square is
believed to have been taken from the French fortifications, and it is
altogether likely to have been one of those to which Whittier referred
in his poem, “St. John,” on Charles La Tour and the noble Lady La Tour:

[Illustration: ST. JOHN HARBOR]

  1. Beacon in St. John Harbor
  2. Market Slip, St. John, High Water
  3. North Head, Grand Manan
  4. Martello Tower

  “Half-veiled in the smoke-cloud,
  Her hand grasped thy pennon,
  While her dark tresses swayed
  In the hot breath of cannon!”


Fort Frederick, built by the British, and now generally known as the
“Old Fort,” stands on the site of the former Fort La Tour. On the
Carleton Heights stands a Martello Tower erected by the British about
one hundred years ago. It is well worth a visit, and the caretaker has
an interesting collection on view inside. There is an excellent view
from the top of the tower. At Jemseg up the river an old French fort was
occupied by Villebon, before he abandoned it for the fort he built on
the Nashwaak, opposite Fredericton.

The harbor of St. John is deep and large, and shipping from all parts of
the world may regularly be seen at its wharves. Its waters have been the
scene of many a naval engagement in times long gone by. The famous
“Reversing Falls,” the only phenomenon of the kind in all the world, may
be seen at the huge rocky pass where the St. John pours out its great
flood into the harbor. An immense body of water passes through this
channel, representing the natural river drainage of over 25,000 square
miles of country. It is not a fall as ordinarily understood, nor a sheer
drop from high to low level. The outlet, though wide, is not
sufficiently large to admit the inflow of the tidal water. The tide
packs up, therefore, and falls into the river. In the same way the tide
recedes in the harbor much faster than it can escape from the river
channel, and at such time the fall is outward. Apart from the curiosity
of such a strange sight, there is much beauty in the view from the
Suspension Bridge. The view of the river from the Fairville side is very
good, and the general scene from Prospect Point is also excellent.

There is a spot below the Fall where a rocky cavity causes a whirlpool
effect at times. It was known in La Tour’s time, and was called the
“Pot.” Floating timber was often caught in it and confined in a floating
circle for days and weeks. One great tree is known to have been
impounded there for many years. In connection with that tree it is told
that the Indians called it Manitou, or “the Devil.” To propitiate the
evil spirit that lodged—as they thought—within it, they offered homage
of beaver skins, which they attached to the tree with an arrow head made
of sharpened moose bone.


Rockwood Park is quite close to the city, and is a delightful place in
which to spend summer days. It is quite extensive, and is particularly
interesting from the fact that it is full of natural beauty, having hill
and dale, little glens and waterfalls, ponds, bridges, terraces, etc.,
and a variety of features that make it an attractive spot. There is
rarely any crowd there, and those who love pleasant walks under shady
trees, with a fine prospect in addition, may take a book and enjoy
country repose on the very threshold of the city. Lily Lake is a
pleasant sheet of water, within the park and not far from the entrance.
The rocky fall at one end of it is very picturesque, and the climb down
reveals a pretty scene. Five other lakes have been constructed to form a
feeding chain for the park lake, and these, with the numerous paths and
roads that are laid out to them and through the rocks, glens and lakes,
add greatly to the recreational resources of the park. If it is visited
several times, a complete circuit of its beauties may gradually be made,
and the views of the surrounding country, and those of the Bay of Fundy
waters, will well repay all who engage in the delightful occupation. The
opportunities for rambles, secluded walks, and for discovering many a
charming spot, are almost unlimited.

The Public Gardens are at the west end of the park, and a pleasant hour
or two may be well spent in either ramble or rest, to view the floral
clusters so tastefully displayed.

There are golf, tennis and yachting clubs in or near the city; and
unlimited opportunities for the enjoyment of sailing, yachting, boating
and canoeing are found on different nearby waters suited to each
preferred form of aquatic recreation.


Nearby Bay Shore beaches are found at Seaside Park, Blue Rock, Broad
View and Bay Shore. These are all reached quite easily by street railway
or ferry.

Trout fishing is free at the fine expanse of lakes known as Loch Lomond.
There are hotels at which to stop and from which boats may be hired. A
drive of about eleven miles is necessary to reach the first lake. There
are many other choice lakes and streams where the fishing rights are
private. As a general statement permission to fish in many of the
private waters may be obtained on application at the Tourist Bureau in
the city.

There are many pretty drives along the country roads to nearby places.
One of these is by way of Adelaide Street to Milledgeville on the
Kennebecasis River, where will be found the club house of the Royal
Kennebecasis Yacht Club. The return may be made by Ragged Point, for the
sake of the fine view from there of river and islands with boats and
vessels of every description passing in all directions. Another is to
Indian Town, Pleasant Point, Fairville, the Suspension Bridge and
Reversing Fall; crossing the bridge and returning by way of Douglas
Avenue with its lawns and comfortable homes. By crossing on the Carleton
Ferry many pleasant roads are available, and in this direction the Bay
Shore may be reached where there are pleasant coves and bathing places.
Still another is to ‘Three Mile House,’ and Rothesay on the Kennebecasis
River. Then Adam’s and McConnell Lakes, Loch Lomond, Golden Grove and
Chamber’s Lake, as well as the Bay of Fundy, by way of Black River Road
and Enchanted Lake, are pleasant drives. Good views of the city are
obtained from Fort Howe Hill and from the heights of Mt. Pleasant.

[Illustration: Beaty’s Beach, St. John]

The best way to enjoy all that St. John contains is to settle down
quietly in a comfortable hotel or other stopping-place, call at the
Tourist Bureau, register and obtain their St. John Booklet with map,
purchase McAlpine’s Road Map of St. John, N.B., and County, and then
become familiar with the city and environs by using the street railway,
and taking rambles from place to place. Helpful maps also are the St.
John River Steamship Co.’s, showing the places on the river as far up as
Fredericton; the Kennebecasis Steamship Co.’s, showing the Kennebecasis
River as far as Hampton, and the May Queen Steamship Co.’s, showing
Grand and Washademoak Lakes, and the places between St. John and
Chipman. With these at hand the surrounding topography will soon be
known, and a logical plan of operations can soon be planned out. There
are other river steamboats with short runs, and still others that make
occasional excursions; but particulars relating to these are best
obtained on the spot.

The favorite sea trips are those to Digby by Dominion Atlantic ferry
Prince Rupert, and to lovely Campobello, pleasant Eastport and
picturesque Grand Manan (island of bold and romantic cliffs) by the
Grand Manan Steamboat Co. There are trips also to Parrsboro and
Kingsport on the Minas Basin at the head of the Bay of Fundy.

Many of those who reach St. John by sea, principally from the West, make
it the whole object of their trip, sojourning there, taking local
excursions and finally returning over the route by which they came.
Others, of course, make a stay there, and then visit the interior by way
of the St. John River to Fredericton, going over the Intercolonial
Railway from thence to Miramichi Bay and Bay of Chaleur, and so on to
Quebec and the St. Lawrence. Or they pass over the St. John-Moncton
division of the Intercolonial to Nova Scotia, Prince Edward Island or
Cape Breton. Wherever they go they will find Indian villages and
encampments; and a few words on this feature of Maritime Province life
will not be amiss here.

Visitors who wish to enjoy their vacation to its full extent should not
make the mistake of taking a flying trip through an Indian village. Our
life would not be understood by a stranger who took only a momentary
glimpse of it, and this is true in a much greater degree of Indian life.
The Indian does not live nearly so much on the surface as we do, for he
is silent and uncommunicative; and we are apt to err in judging from
superficial observation that there is little in his life worthy of note.

The Indian has to be drawn out. Gain his confidence—let the newness of
strangership wear off gradually—go and be piloted by him over many a
foaming rapid—go with him in the woods—share a tent with him under the
moon by night—put up your own tent near his village, and visit his
humble little home—do all this, and you will learn much.

[Illustration: Public Gardens, St. John]

  “He makes his way with speed and ease
    Through woods that show the noonday star,
  The moss-grown trunks of oldest trees
    His lettered guide books are.

  Needs he a fire? The kindling spark
    He bids the chafed wood reveal.
  Lacks he a boat? Of birchen bark
    He frames a lightsome keel.”

Some of the older Indians have a natural dignity and beauty of
expression that is wonderful. In time you will hear many quaint
incidents of their lives; and if you are patient and gain their
confidence, tales they have heard and the traditions of their fathers
will gradually be yours.

[Illustration: In Rockwood Park, St. John]

It is, of course, difficult to understand an Indian properly in any
tongue other than his own. His English is often broken and peculiar.
Here is a “snake story” just as told by a Maliceet: “From dis landin’,
’bout tree, may be four mile, I s’pose, dere’s a loggin’ road. ’Bout
nine years ago, in de fall, I was goin’ down dat road with Archy Lodge,
when we saw big pine log lyin’ right cross de road. Archy he say,
‘s’pose we have chop dat log to get team by.’ I say, ‘Yes, s’pose’; an’
Archy he get off an’ go to git de axe. Den dat tree he move right out de
road, an’ go trough de brush like de devil, an’ break down maple
saplin’s big’s my arm. So ’twas a big snake!”


Maliceet Indians are now found chiefly on the St. John River and its
tributaries. The Micmacs are found in eastern parts of New Brunswick,
and in Nova Scotia and Prince Edward Island. The Micmacs are not a cross
between the Irish and Scotch—as has been humorously remarked might be
thought from their name. Both Maliceet and Micmac trace their descent
from the great Algonquin nation.

Indians are eloquent. Read the reply of the old Maliceet chief to the
Government Commissioners who were sent to dispossess the Indians of
their lands at Medoctec on the St. John. The commissioners asked: “By
what right or title do you hold these lands?” The old chief, with
knowledge of right on his side, pointed to the little enclosures by the
river as he gravely said, “There are the graves of our grandfathers!
There are the graves of our fathers! There are the graves of our
children!” To this argument the commissioners could make no reply, and
the Indians were left in possession.


[Illustration: ST. JOHN RIVER]

  1. St. George Falls, N.B.
  2. Evanisle, St. John River
  3. Indian Camp, St. John River
  4. Haying at Lakesie, N.B.

An Indian courtship was formerly a very simple affair. If a young brave
decided to marry—his relatives approving—he would go into the wigwam
where an “eligible” maiden lived, and look at her without saying one
word. If he liked her appearance he tossed a chip into her lap. This was
“popping the question.” The maiden would shyly pretend to examine it
closely while taking covert glances to “size up” her admirer. If
“smitten,” she would throw the chip at him with a pleasant smile, and
then nothing was wanting but the service of the priest to bind the
marriage tie. If, however, the young brave was not a man to her liking,
the chip would be tossed aside with a frown, and he would then be
obliged to seek elsewhere.


A full wedding ceremony took place in the following way. On the
appointed day the happy brave, accompanied by his relatives, went to the
bride and her assembled friends. She was “given away” by her father, and
was then dressed in a handsome costume, a present from the groom. All
then took their way to the village green to participate in the wedding
dance, at which the whole village was present. The following day the
newly-wedded pair started on a canoe honeymoon trip. At some choice
spot, chosen for its beauty and romantic surroundings, both knelt
together and made vows of unending affection, The neighborhood of some
great rock was always preferred, and the enduring rock was invoked to
witness the vows thus made. A tree was rarely chosen because of its
being more perishable than a rock.

The superior civilization of the Indian knows little of infidelity, and
nothing of divorce.

All the Indian peoples of Canada had, and still have, superstitious and
strange fancies. Animals, plants, mountains, rivers and great rocks were
supposed to have indwelling spirits. They were, therefore, treated with
respect. Even to animals of the chase, such as bear and beaver, etc.,
they would offer an apology for the necessary pursuit. Fishing-nets were
even included in a ceremony which consisted of an address to the fish
begging them to take courage and be caught, soothing them also by the
promise that due respect should be paid to their bones. Plants had
souls, the Indians believed; and, in addition, they held the belief that
elves and fairies of great beauty and marvellous powers dwelt in hill
and valley. The high mountain tops were supposed to be inhabited by gods
with wonderful attributes; and the sound of thunder, the voice of the
rapid, and the roar of the great cataract were all manifestations to
them of individual divinities. Above all was the overruling Manitou or
Great Spirit.

The Indian settlements on the St. John River and elsewhere in New
Brunswick, as well as in Nova Scotia, etc., are well worth a visit; and
all who wish to understand the life and ways of those who have so well
been named “Children of the Forest,” should give some time to a pleasing
form of recreation that is sure to bring many hours of happiness in its


[Illustration: Kennebecasis River]

                _St. John to Moncton and Point du Chene_


The trip by steamboat from St. John up the Kennebecasis will have given
many a view, distant and near, of the beautiful valley and the garden
country surrounding it. The course of the river steamboat is to the west
of Long Island, and hence of such pretty suburbs as Renforth and
Rothesay only distant glimpses may be had. Hampton is the head of steam
navigation; but the river runs up to Norton, Apohaqui, Sussex and
beyond, in all of which places pretty views may be seen. These places,
therefore, are best seen from the Intercolonial Railway, which passes
through the heart of the several districts; and, in addition, the road
runs up to Petitcodiac village and along by the river of that name as
far as Moncton.

Renforth, Rothesay, Hampton and the various summer resort in the
vicinity of St. John lying on or near the Kennebecasis are all pleasant
vacation spots, justly prized by the inhabitants of the prosperous city
for which they provide such convenient and delightfully situated country


At Renforth there is a choice little cove or bay where summer cottages
face riverwards along a breezy ridge that follows the course of the
stream at this point; while at Rothesay the bungalows are very prettily
disposed in the woods by the shore, and on the pleasant slopes above. At
both of these places good boating, sailing, and canoeing may be had, as
well as motor boating. River bathing is enjoyed by nearly all who summer
in these charming spots. While not so cool as seaside places, they are
appreciably cooler than town or city, and on that account they have
become favorite resorts for St. John people, as well as for others from
more distant points.


Above Rothesay the railroad strikes inland a mile or two from the river,
but at Jubilee and Nauwigewauk it resumes its river course and holds it
until near Hampton, where it is about a mile from the part of the
village that fronts on the water. Hampton, however, may be said to run
almost from the station to the river, and with the pleasant inn or
summer hotel close by the station, the pretty village, the Court-House
green, and the splendid view from the hills, together with the many
shady walks, this part of the village has many attractions.

Hampton is the head of Kennebecasis River navigation for steamboats; and
as all the pleasant resorts just named are either on the river or near
it, those who summer in this neighborhood will soon become familiar with
the enjoyable scenery of the Kennebecasis. At Hampton-by-the-River, it
should be added, there is a comfortable homelike hotel or
stopping-place. The surroundings of the whole village are all
picturesque, and such as conduce to pleasure in walks, drives and

An enjoyable water outing may be taken on the river by boarding the
steamboat at Hampton and going downstream to St. John. At first a way is
threaded through the meadows by a varied channel that makes it necessary
to “double” and often head in an opposite direction, to pass some island
or follow the devious windings of a stream that makes bends and turns
and double-bends in its course. At last the meadows are passed, however,
and a typical river course with regular channel is entered. Here high
hills and steep ridges line the way. The view at Clifton is very fine,
and at Moss Glen and Chapel Grove it is almost equally good. As St. John
is neared the steamboat passes into the waters of the larger river and
takes its way past the Boar’s Head, and round south to the Indiantown


[Illustration: ST. JOHN TO MONCTON]

From Hampton a short railroad runs to St. Martin’s and Quaco on the Bay
of Fundy shore. St. Martin’s is a favorite excursion point that is
readily reached by a short sea journey from St. John. Quaco, almost
immediately joining on the south, has a very pretty harbor. Bold cliffs
and little stony beaches are prominent features in its attractive


Journeying north-east from Hampton along the line of the Intercolonial
Railway the course of the upper Kennebecasis River is approximately
followed by way of Norton, Apohaqui and Sussex through a very pleasant
pastoral country. These are all excellent summer places, and from nearly
all of them fishing is within easy reach. From Norton a short railroad
runs through choice country to Grand Lake, Chipman and the Salmon and
Gaspereau Rivers. Apohaqui has a favorable situation at the mouth of the
branching Millstream, while the smart little town of Sussex has a
delightful site with its own pretty little waterway stretching off
through the Sussex Vale to the southeast.

After leaving Penobsquis the railroad soon crosses North River, and the
upper waters of the Petitcodiac; then following a course first west and
then north of the Petitcodiac River, it reaches Moncton. Petitcodiac is
not only a pretty village itself, but it has much romantic scenery
surrounding it. The Pollet River Falls to the south-east are well worth
seeing, and the river itself invites to many a ramble.

At Salisbury a short railroad runs east to Hillsboro on the Petitcodiac
River, and from thence in a southerly direction along the west shore of
Chignecto Bay to Albert, Harvey and Alma. The country round about Albert
is very picturesque, and Alma on the Bay Shore is an attractive village.
The peculiar Hopewell Cape Rocks are generally reached by driving from
Hillsboro. Ample recreation is found through this district in fishing,
walking, and driving; and there is boating on Chignecto Bay, etc.

Few would recognize the progressive and prosperous city of Moncton as
the place that originally came into being under the modest name of “The
Bend.” The name applied to the river, Petitcodiac, which seems a
blending of French and Indian, means a “bend.” Soon after the middle of
the eighteenth century the place was named after General Monckton, once
Lieutenant-General of Nova Scotia, who had served at Louisbourg, served
also as second in command under General Wolfe at the taking of Quebec,
and who later was British Governor of New York.

[Illustration: On the Kennebecasis River]

Some of the early settlers of “The Bend,” as Moncton was then known,
came from Philadelphia and the Delaware River in pre-revolutionary days.
One of these early settlers built a log house on the spot where now
stands the railway round-house. Some United Empire Loyalists assisted in
the settlement later on. The place had a gradual growth until 1872, when
it commenced a new life by becoming an Intercolonial Railway centre,
with workshops, etc., and to-day, as a consequence, it is an important
town, full of life and vitality.


[Illustration: Rothesay Park Bridge]

[Illustration: Moncton—General Offices of the Intercolonial Railway
through the Trees]

The management and administration of the Intercolonial Railway, as well
as the clerical, constructive and auxiliary staffs, all centre in
Moncton. As a consequence, about 2500 of the town’s population are in
Intercolonial employ.

The General Offices of the Railway occupy a prominent position adjoining
the station grounds. The building has recently been extended to give
much needed room, and with its pleasant surroundings gives comfortable
quarters for the working staff of the system.

The city bears on its face every evidence of prosperity, and it has many
excellent stores and pleasant residential streets.

The Moncton and Buctouche Railway has its headquarters here; and Moncton
is also the eastern terminus of one of Canada’s trans-continental
railway systems, the Grand Trunk Pacific.

The phenomenon of the Bay of Fundy “Tidal Bore” is best seen on the
Petitcodiac River at Moncton. The rise and fall of the tide here shows a
difference of thirty feet between extreme high and extreme low. At
favorable times the height of the incoming wall of water, or “bore,” is
between four and five feet. At such times it is a very wonderful and
interesting sight.

There are a number of pleasant walks and drives in and around the city,
with drives of a more extended character to Shediac and Hopewell Cape
and Rocks. By rail, too, it is easy to reach many pleasant spots in a
very short time.

Many will be surprised to learn that there are splendid oil and gas
fields in the neighborhood of Moncton. A number of wells have been
drilled, and some are exceedingly productive.

The importance of this development will be understood from the mere
statement of the present capacity of the gas wells, which is fifty
millions of cubic feet daily; nor does this represent a maximum
capacity, for the industry is just in its infancy; the first public
consumption of gas in Moncton dating only from the year 1912.

The Intercolonial Railway uses nearly two million feet of gas daily in
its workshops, and manufacturing plants generally are hastening to adopt
gas as a substitute for coal. As is well known, gas is much more
efficient and economical than coal as a fuel; and the product of the
local gas wells is of excellent quality, its thermal value being high. A
striking modern example of the use of gas fuel is demonstrated in
Moncton, for here the electric power for street railway purposes, for
the pumping station at the waterworks and for street and domestic
lighting is all generated economically through the use of gas as a fuel.

Although natural gas is used so generally by manufacturers and residents
of Moncton, and is also piped into the village of Hillsboro, in Albert
County, its use is less than ten per cent. of the yielding capacity of
the present gas wells. It is also believed that other wells will be
discovered, and many experts are of the opinion that the gas field has
merely been tapped on the fringe.

The early expansion of Moncton as a manufacturing and residential centre
will be apparent to those who study economic conditions, for in addition
to the low cost of gas as a fuel for manufacturing and general power
purposes, the use of it as a substitute for coal in the important detail
of house heating in winter shows a saving of over eighty-five per cent.

It will be remembered that from Newcastle and Chatham Junction a course
by the Miramichi River was traced, followed by another along the
Nashwaak to Fredericton. From that point a further course was traced
down the lower St. John River to the city of St. John, and thence to
Rothesay, Hampton, Sussex and Petitcodiac to Moncton.


Starting now from the Miramichi River and Chatham Junction and
proceeding along the main line to Moncton, a section of country is
traversed that is inland from the Northumberland Straits Coast a varying
distance of twenty to twenty-five miles. The railway line in its
progress crosses the main Barnaby River as well as its upper waters,
bridges the Kouchibouguac, the Kouchibouguacis and the Richibucto
Rivers, and passes over the headwaters of the Canaan, Buctouche, Cocagne
and North streams. At Kent Junction railroad connection is made for
Richibucto and St. Louis; and from Moncton a line runs to Buctouche.

Richibucto and St. Louis are Acadian settlements, the former a
prosperous place from which timber is shipped. There is bathing not far
from Richibucto, with boating and other shore recreation.

Some of the small streams between the Barnaby River and Moncton are used
for logging in the spring, the headwaters of some of them being not over
twelve feet wide. In places where the river has not risen high enough,
the logs may be seen packed side-by-side, like matches, or piled high in
a confused heap with projecting timbers, presenting the appearance of a
_chevaux-de-frise_. With a heavy rainfall, however, these streams swell
to considerable proportions; and the logs are easily borne down to the
mills, and to the coast, with some attention here and there to free the
timber when it jams.

Buctouche, at the mouth of the river of that name, is a little Acadian
watering place about two hours’ run from Moncton over the Moncton and
Buctouche Railway.

In a north-easterly direction from Moncton the line of the Intercolonial
Railway reaches Painsec Junction. The main line here passes to the east,
after throwing off a short branch that leads to Shediac and Point du

Shediac is a pleasant town situated on a broad harbor, sheltered by
Shediac Island. It has a good sand beach, and is celebrated for its fine
oysters. There is excellent fishing here, both in fresh and salt water.
The place was once strongly garrisoned by French troops.

North of Shediac is a large Acadian settlement, the Cocagnes, reached by
coast road, or by boat around Cocagne Cape and into the mouth of the
Cocagne River. East of Shediac are other interesting Acadian villages;
these also are accessible by coast road and boat.

Point du Chêne is well placed as a pleasant little Summer place for
boating, etc., but it is chiefly known as the place of departure for the
passenger steamships crossing the Northumberland Straits to Summerside,
Prince Edward Island. Steamships for other parts of the same island
leave from Pictou, some 140 miles east; but the Point du Chêne route is
preferable for all but those who come from Cape Breton, Halifax, etc.,
and the comfortable and smart-looking steamships of the Prince Edward
Island Navigation Co. that cross from Point du Chêne to Summerside leave
nothing to be desired in the way of equipment and speed.



                         _Prince Edward Island_


Evening cloud effects of a beautiful character are frequently seen when
crossing the Straits of Northumberland from Point du Chêne to Summerside
on Prince Edward Island. On one occasion it had threatened rain on
leaving the mainland, but when the steamer was well over and nearing
Summerside the clouds began to disperse. The sun was about to dip below
the horizon, and its upward slanting beams gave marvellous coloring to
the dispersing cloud drifts. These assumed the deepest and richest tints
of pink and terra cotta, with an infinite variety of fantastic forms;
and this lovely Prince Edward Island sunset, with all its gorgeous
display of form and color, was the topic of conversation then and
afterwards amongst those on the steamer, and who met by chance on the
Island later on.

In approaching the Island the first feature of the land that attracts
attention is the red sandstone. Red may be termed the Island’s color,
for everywhere the red sandstone and the light hue of the soil—almost as
vivid as the well-known Pompeian clay—is to be seen. It affords a
beautiful contrast with the vivid green of the fields and the darker
green of the fir and spruce trees that freshen the landscape.

  “Where’er you walk, cool gales shall fan the glade;
  Trees where you sit shall crowd into a shade;
  Where’er you tread the blushing flowers shall rise,
  And all things flourish where you turn your eyes.”

Prince Edward Island has been well christened. It is doubtful if Cabot
ever called there. Jacques Cartier is said to have done so, however, and
it was he who called it the “Low and Beautiful Island.” The Indians
called it Abegweit, or “Resting on the Wave.” Champlain named it L’Isle
St. Jean; the English rechristened it after Edward, Duke of Kent, as
“Prince Edward Island,” and it has since been termed the “Garden of the
Gulf,” and the “Million Acre Farm.”


Together with the Magdalen Islands it was tentatively settled by the
French in 1663, and was always included as part of Acadia; but its real
settlement dates from the time when the Acadians came hither after being
expelled from Nova Scotia. Peasants from Bretagne, Picardy and Normandy
participated in the settlement; and later, English and Scotch settlers
followed. Many hoards of arms, furniture, cooking utensils, etc., have
been found hidden in the woods, placed there by the early Acadians.

Some ten thousand descendants of this hunted people are living on the
Island, and as they do not readily mix with others, and thus preserve
their old manner of living, they are a very interesting part of the
population. To some extent they live by themselves in their own
villages, speaking the original tongue, wearing the simple dress and
keeping alive the old traditions. They are simple and kindly, and give
color and charm to the more populous communities that surround them.

In these places the maidens still weave, sew and lay by linen for the
expected marriage; and the simple social gatherings for weddings,
barn-raisings, etc., still attract their people of all ages. Many of
them still believe in “Loups-garous” and other fictions of ghost, and
haunting spirits, etc. The principal Acadian settlements are at Rustico,
Tignish, Abram’s Village, and Miscouche.

The quaint broken English of the old Acadian is shown in this extract
relating to our little friend the grosbeak:


  “An’ mebbe you hear de grosbec
    Sittin’ above de nes’—
  An’ you see by de way he’s goin’
    De ole man’s doin’ his bes’
  Makin’ de wife an’ baby
    Happy as dey can be—
  An’ proud he was come de fader
    Such fine leetle familee.”


There are a few hundred Micmac Indians living along the north shore.
They are good hunters, and an outing with them for trout and wild birds
is a pleasant experience.

The water surrounding the island is shallower than that of the mainland
coast, and on that account, and because the temperature is higher, the
bathing here is not too cool, and is much enjoyed. It is warmer than New
Brunswick or Nova Scotia—Atlantic Nova Scotia being the coolest place of
all. The summer temperature of the Island ranges from 65 to 80 degrees,
and higher on exceptional occasions.

It has been remarked that, “there will come to the world-weary tourist
visions of a beautiful land in the midst of the cool sea—a land fanned
by healthful breezes, a land of green hills, purling brooks and fertile
fields. The crowded fashionable watering places have lost their charm
for him, and he yearns for some place of rest and repose where quiet
summer days can be obtained”—and all this is true of Prince Edward

A recent census of the Island shows the largest population per thousand
of people over seventy years of age in any province of Canada. In most
countries a fourth generation is rare, but Prince Edward can boast of a
fifth. This is the Poirier family of Tignish, the men are fishermen who
all “pull together” in excellent health. The head of the family,
great-great-grandfather Poirier, has 202 living descendants, and at 97
years of age rises at daylight, turns his fish on the “flakes” to dry,
and chops and saws his wood.


But we have entered Bedeque Bay, and are at Summerside, bound for
Alberton and Tignish at the western end of the Island. A very pleasant
harbor indeed is this, and the not too pretentious summer town is nicely
laid out with good stores and shady streets. There is good boating for
yachts, sail-boats, launches, row-boats and canoes, and the life is that
of the seaside resort, with pleasant excursions and an enjoyable social
life. The Wilmot and Dunk Rivers empty into the harbor. On the Dunk will
be found many pretty views; the fishing, too, is good—trout of large
size. It was a view of this river that inspired the couplet:

  “Pause here—and look upon a sight as fair,
  As ever painter limned of poet’s dreams.”

Everyone in Summerside walks down to the wharf to see the steamship come
in from Point du Chêne. The usual hour, 7.30 p.m., is convenient for
all. The two trains for east and west go down to meet the steamer and
then return to the station to start their runs. In summer both steamer
wharf and train platform are crowded with the youth and beauty of the
town. The scene is always a lively one.

But a start is made for the west, and the country is almost immediately
reached. Here plenty of evidence is seen of the great productiveness of
these eastern lands, for “stooks” of wheat are standing on end in great
quantities. At Wellington the small upper waters of a stream flow
northward. It is tributary to the Ellis River, into which other streams
flow. This stream soon widens out considerably and runs into Richmond or
Malpeque Bay on the north shore. The river and the lakes nearby are all
fished, and lobsters and clams are plentifully found. At Port Hill and
adjoining places, fine-looking sheep are seen in large numbers, grazing
in good pastures, and there are herds of the cleanest cattle in the
fresh-appearing meadows. The land hereabouts is like an almost level
prairie, and everywhere the harvest of wheat and oats meet the eye in
pleasant array; newly gathered and dotting the whole of the surrounding
fields with innumerable sheaves, stacked up on end, and ready to gather
into the barns that will surely be overtaxed—so rich and plentiful are
the crops of this verdant isle.

In the neighborhood of Portage there are extensive tracts of young
woods, and in places, for miles around, the country resembles cultivated
park lands. In some parts there is plenty of evidence that heavy timber
has formerly been cut down, for, the harvest work about done, fierce and
glowing fires are seen consuming great tree-stumps to make a perfect

Mixed trains, usually avoided by all who are not compelled to use them,
are really the best for seeing all the pleasant little by-places of the
Garden Province; for while freight is being handled at each station, it
is possible to alight and ramble a little in nearby luxurious paths that
fringe the railroad along its whole extent. This applies not only to the
route from Summerside to Tignish, but also to the whole railway system
of the Island. As is perhaps generally known, the Prince Edward Island
Railway is part of the extensive system known as the Canadian Government

[Illustration: Hunter River, P.E.I.]

Little barefoot boys with freckled faces—health showing in every
movement of their active limbs—watch the passenger cars as the shunting
is being done. They stand on the station platform and gaze wonderingly
at the stranger from the outer world. Little girls, too, emboldened by
the presence of their older brothers, pluck up courage to pass the car
windows and take shy glances at the people from the great cities. To see
their fresh young faces and artless simplicity of manner is alone well
worth the railway fare from some far-off metropolis.


Extensive dairying farms are seen as Elmsdale is neared. Pleasant knolls
of land spread out in every direction, and the belts of trees of various
tints, as well as the trim orchards, give an attractive appearance to
the whole countryside.

And now Alberton is reached, near to Holland or Cascumpeque Bay:

  “The echoes of the surges roar
      About the bar by Alberton.”

Alberton is quite an interesting village on the north side of the
Island. Near to it is the Kildare River, and the pretty district of
Montrose. The harbor of Alberton is probably the most available place
for shipping along the whole north shore. American vessels often take
refuge here from heavy storms. A peculiarity of the St. Lawrence Gulf
side of the Island is the absence of good harbors, and the presence of
long and narrow sand bars, or dunes, that lie about a mile or less from
the land towards the western end of the Island, and continue in an
almost unbroken line for a distance of 25 miles or more to the east. The
Indian name Cascumpec, or “Floating through Sand,” sufficiently
describes the outer waters of many of the rivers that empty on the
northern side. These sand bars have narrow inlets in places through
which small vessels may pass into the protected inner waters known as
lagoons or narrows. The harbor at Alberton has a convenient entrance,
with a lighthouse; and vessels of average size may enter at any tide.
The sand bars towards the eastern end of the Island are different in
character. Instead of being in one long line with narrow breaks, they
are found in completely detached sections, generally across the mouth of
bay or river, and sometimes making out from the side of a headland to
the opposite shore, and thus nearly closing the entrance.


On the outer sides of these sand bars the waves break with magnificent
surf—inside all is calm and peaceful. High cliffs are not found on the
northern shore, but bold land of romantic appearance is found in places.

The neighborhood of Alberton, Montrose and the Kildare River is an
attractive one, and many pleasant walks and drives may here be enjoyed.

A feature of this part of the Island is the numerous “fox farms” that,
are springing up, where these animals are raised for the value of their
pelts. Large sums have been paid for a pair with which to start a ranch
or farm—as much as two and three thousand dollars, it is said.

The climate of Prince Edward Island is well suited for operations of
this kind, and much money has already been made by those engaged in the
business. Several new fox farms have recently been started in various
parts of the island, and as fox breeding appears to be both interesting
and profitable, the number of these farms is sure to increase.

But we have left Alberton and are making north. That little hamlet,
where we stopped for a few minutes, has houses that may easily be
counted upon two hands; and the young girl with pleasant face and
engaging brown eyes who has just waved a free and ingenuous ‘good-bye,’
was the same who waited at our hotel table in Summerside, a few days
since. A week of town life has satisfied her; and she has gone “back to
the farm.” Sensible girl!...... and happy father and mother, whose life
in the comfortable and snug little cottage over there is still to be
cheered by a bright, youthful face and sunny smile.


And now, Tignish, the French-Scotch fishing village, and quietest of
quiet little summer resorts; modest, unpretending, and just what it
appears to be on first arrival, a country retreat. A place of unbroken
sleep and absolute calm, and where the commotion and tumult of the world
frets none. A natural sanitarium to which a man may flee to escape for a
season the daily avalanche of letters; the battery of visitors; the
quick-fire of telegrams.


A tale of French-Indian life by Jessie Hogg may here be told to show the
relations that existed on the Island between the two races long ago.
“Belle Marie” was a pretty Indian maiden who had received that name from
the French people living near the native village. She was much loved by
her father, the chief of the tribe. She had been trained by him in
Indian arts and was a surer shot with the arrow than even he. One of the
French officers took great interest in her as a child, and told her of
the Old World and its wonders. Without knowing it she taught him the
lesson of love. Being much older than she, he was able to keep his
feelings a secret. For some reason she gradually changed, and her former
girlish manner became more demure and maidenly, her eyes became softer
and acquired a new light, and she came less frequently to hear the tales
she loved so well.

A jealous lover of her tribe had told her the officer was only amusing
himself for want of companionship with his own people.

One day the now lonely Frenchman found her in a little rocky nook on the
shore. The sky was clear, and the incoming tide was gently drawing near
unheeded by the maiden, whose thoughts were far away as she gazed over
the water intently, unconscious of the earnest gaze bent on her.

“Belle Marie!” he said softly.

She started, and a wave of color told a tale that surely anyone could
have read. Until then her sole lessons had been learned from the songs
of the birds, the winds sighing through the trees, the perfume of the
flowers, and the murmuring of the waters as they beat upon the shore.

“Mon Maitre!” she replied, as she rose suddenly, pale and startled.

“Where have you been, ma belle?” he asked.

“In the woods; on the shore; with my people,” was the disjointed reply,
as she looked down at the sand beneath her feet.

“You have not been to see me for so long—I have missed you very much.
Why did you stay away?” He came near.

She turned with the fury of a young tigress, as she told him he only
talked to her to pass the time away. But suddenly she broke down, and
burst into tears as she covered her face with her hands.

“I love you, Belle Marie!” said the officer, in earnest tones.

“Love me?” she cried—“An Indian maid? A forest girl? Why, your people
would scorn you for it.”

“My people are nothing to me now,” he sadly replied—then drawing near,
he asked, “Will you marry me, Belle Marie?”

But she bounded off, and disappeared without reply.

One morning, some days after this, she stood at the opening of his tent.
“Yes, I will be your wife,” she exclaimed, “if you love me, and me

Another chapter now opens, for the old chief demurred. “Belle Marie must
marry a brave of her own race,” he declared.

But finally the love of the Frenchman prevailed, and the old chief
consented to the marriage.

In the meantime Belle Marie’s former suitor, the jealous one who had
interfered in the early days, seemed to take it all in good part.

One day as the happy girl was walking in the distant woods she came
across her affianced, struck down and dying in the snow. With bursting
heart she staggered homewards, bearing him in her arms. Senseless and
almost gone, she nursed him back to life, assisted by her kind-hearted
father. With loving devotion, and with just enough of sleep and food to
maintain life, she nursed the wounded man to complete recovery.

The wedding was now decided upon without further delay, and one bright
spring morning the ceremony took place in the little church that had
been decorated with ferns and wild-flowers.

Under a bower of leafy branches and fragrant bloom the happy pair stood.
Dozens of canoes lined the shore, and the wedding festivities were well
underway. The low sobbing heard from the assembled tribe as Belle Marie
stood at the altar by the side of the man of her choice told how much
the darling of her tribe would be missed.

Scarce was the ceremony ended, and the two turned away from the altar,
when with a cry that resounded far and near—a cry that pierced the
hearts of all who heard it—and one that sent a thrill of terror to all,
Marie threw herself before her husband, shielding him from view, but not
before an arrow, sped with the sure aim that hatred and revenge could
prompt, had found its resting place in her heart instead of his.


He caught her as she fell, clasped her close to him with a moan of
agony, and in all a strong man’s anguish, called her every endearing
name that love could bring to mind.

But she looked up at him with those eyes that had always contained such
an unutterable love in their depths, and said slowly as the life-blood
ebbed over altar steps and floor:—“I ...... saved ...... you. I .....
saw ..... it ...... coming. My ...... own ...... love.”

Returning east to Summerside, and passing Kensington, with its pretty,
stone station-building, the quiet village of Bradalbane is reached. This
makes a good centre from which to visit the districts of New London,
Mill River, Stanley Bridge, Trout River, New Glasgow, Hunter River
outlet and Rustico. This whole district is about as pleasant and
picturesque as could well be imagined, and days spent in driving and
walking will bring much enjoyment.

From New London harbor in the bay to the north the fishing boats may be
seen putting out to sea:

  “The wind is blowing freshly up from far-off ocean caves,
  And sending sparkling kisses o’er the brows of virgin waves,
  While routed dawn-mists shiver as fast and far they flee,
  Pierced by the shafts of sunrise and the glitter of the sea.”


The pretty scenery of Mill Vale, the Trout River and Stanley Bridge is
sure to enchant. A noticeable feature of this and other districts is the
number of lovely streams of diminutive character, and the nearby, always
picturesque, mill ponds. A story illustrating the method of the bear
when he “trees” a man, and showing, also, the intelligence of a little
dog is related of the Stanley Bridge district.

[Illustration: Provincial Building, Charlottetown, P.E.I.]


“Before bridges were built throughout the Island the rivers were crossed
by ferries, and the ferry was generally named after the individual who
ran it. Where Stanley Bridge now is, Fyfe’s ferry formerly plied. Mr.
Fyfe was the owner of a little white dog, of which he was very proud,
and with reason, for it once saved his life.

“One day walking in the woods near his home he was suddenly set upon by
a huge bear that was evidently very hungry and was out foraging.

“The ferryman managed to elude his pursuer for a short time, but the
bear was not to be cheated of his prey without making a good fight. Hard
pressed, the now desperate man brought all his wits to bear on the
situation, and he decided to climb a tree which was the only refuge
anywhere near. He lost no time in putting his plan into execution, but
he had forgotten that bears can climb and Bruin must have thought that
he had his victim in the right place, also. Immediately the animal
started up the tree after the disappearing ferryman, and quickly came
within reach. He had only taken hold of the man’s boot-heel when he felt
a stinging sensation at his own pedal extremities. He immediately
dropped to the ground where he recognized in his antagonist the little
white dog. The dog suddenly disappeared, but not out of sight of its
master, whom it was bent on saving from a horrible death. Accordingly,
every time the bear attempted to climb the tree, the dog took hold of
his heel, and finding the pain so severe from the bites, Bruin had to
come down again and again; until, finally, tired out he sat down to
watch his victim whom he had treed. The bear was not to enjoy this
situation long, for the barking of the dog had aroused the fears of
Fyfe’s neighbors, who thought something must be wrong, and started for
the scene armed with rifles.

“Taking in the situation at a glance they quickly dispatched Mr. Bruin,
and, the danger past, the ferryman came down. Almost needless to state
no kindness was ever too much for the little dog after that.”

A change has now come over the scene, for the forests have fallen before
the woodman’s axe, and Bruin has also disappeared.


The Hunter River, Rustico Bay and Wheatly River districts are all well
worthy of exploration in drives and walks. The principal north shore
resorts are Rustico, Tracadie, Stanhope, and Brackley Point. From nearly
all of these places summer visitors may put out with the fishermen and
join in the cod and mackerel fishing.

The city of Charlottetown has a fine and most unusual situation. It is
on the East or Hillsborough River, the York or North River is on its
south side, the West or Elliott River joins the York just a little to
the south of the city, and thus all three streams mingle their waters
and pass out into Hillsborough Bay, the Bay being also near, and almost
in front of the Island Capital.

Charlottetown has wide, leafy and pleasant streets, covers considerable
ground, has a delightful atmosphere, and is altogether one of the most
homelike and attractive little cities to be found anywhere. It suggests
the capital of some neat European principality, with its substantial
Queen Square and public buildings grouped or arranged with such good
taste in the park-like heart of the city. In the square is a monument to
the memory of the Prince Edward Island Volunteers who fell in the South
African War. The flower beds in the open space are neatly laid out and
refreshing to the eye. Here are shady seats where on summer nights one
may sit and hear the music of the band. The principal stores of the city
are grouped along the sides of the square.


The Provincial Building with its Legislative Halls and excellent library
is a delightful place to visit. The obliging librarian is ever willing
to extend courtesies to the visitor. There is an air of solidity and
quiet dignity as well as an individuality about the building that is
very agreeable. It makes a strong appeal to those who would cherish all
that is good in the old order of things, and seems a standing rebuke to
the present day of big things—to hurry, crush, noise, confusion, modern
“rush,” and overcrowded and congested cities—and while every loyal
inhabitant of Charlottetown devoutly hopes for and believes in the great
future growth of the city, let an admiring stranger, who has tasted its
hospitality, express the fervent wish that it may not grow too large;
that for many years to come it may remain just about as it is—perfect.

In olden days French sailors who first entered the harbor of
Charlottetown were so pleased with what they saw that they named it Port
la Joie. The surrounding scenery is pleasing, but not impressive. A
general characterization of the Island scenery would be that of pastoral
tranquility, well-tilled fields, verdant pastures and quiet rivers; with
a medium temperature, cool night air and an ever-present sense of peace,
rest and repose over all.

Drives and walks for pleasant air may be taken in many directions, and
there are steamer trips to the Indian encampment at Rocky Point, where
relics of the old French occupation may be seen; to Southport, to
Orwell, to Mount Stewart and Hampton and other more distant places, as
well as to Victoria on the South Shore. Longer steamboat journeys are
those to Quebec and Montreal, and to Boston by way of Hawkesbury and
Halifax. Keppoch, a summer resort outside of the city, is within easy
reach by carriage.

Victoria Park by the waterside is a favorite recreation spot, for it has
winding roadways that are well shaded, and fine views of the surrounding
waters. There are public cricket grounds here, and tennis courts as
well. The Golf Links at Belvidere are well laid out, and afford much
enjoyment for lovers of this fine exercise; and an excellent view of the
East River may be had from here.

A visit to the Farmer’s Market will prove especially interesting to city

Boating of all kinds may be had in the rivers and harbor, and
motor-boats and yachts have a wide field for pleasant excursions on the
nearby waters. A fine motor-boat excursion is that to Bonshaw, up the
West River.

In one of the rivers near the city mackerel were once so abundant that
an ox-cart was driven through, and a full load was obtained with a
scoop-net in crossing.


A division of the Prince Edward Island Railway runs from Charlottetown
to Souris and Georgetown, on the east coast, branching at the attractive
little village of Mount Stewart. Following the northern branch, Tracadie
is reached. It is on the north shore, where bathing is most enjoyed on
the numerous sandy beaches. Here are marshes and ponds where springs
rise out of the ground, and where wild fowl make their homes in the
reeds and long grass; often shut in by wooded banks, and only separated
from the sea by sand dunes with wreckage and projecting drift.
Everything is fresh, bright and clean; and such scenes, so difficult to
describe, must be seen to understand the impression they make on the

[Illustration: Scenes in the Montague District, P.E.I.]

[Illustration: On the Morell River]

The Morell River is a delightful spot for camping grounds. There are
cold springs of pure water everywhere, the banks are wooded and
pleasantly varied, it has numerous trout pools, and there is a clear run
up the winding river for a number of miles. Canoes may ascend six or
seven miles, at least. The river flows into St. Peter’s Bay. Along the
banks of the lakes and rivers of the neighborhood, and by the shore, the
remains of many cellars are found over which formerly stood the houses
of the Acadian fishermen.

St. Peter’s, as is fitting, stands on a hill—if not on a rock—and has a
good situation overlooking the head of the bay, with the
comfortable-looking little church crowning the top of the wooded slope.
The river from the east winds in and out, and the bay waters make larger
curves as they run to the sea. Cattle feed on the meadow land bordering
the stream. A very nice run for small boats is here, as the water is
land-locked for a mile or two. Larger boats may find plenty of water
nearer the sea. The train runs along the whole shore. Numerous winches
are seen in passing. They are used for digging oyster shells from the
deposits at the bottom of the channel, the shells being ground for
fertilizing purposes.

The little hamlet just passed is known as Five Houses. Only four can be
seen, but doubtless the other is there behind one of the trees. There is
a fine prospect of rolling country, and far in the distance the white
farmhouses may be seen dotting the slopes. At times we stop at a
pleasant little clearing in the wood. At such places a sort of glorified
summer house acts as station or shelter, with shady paths leading off
through the woodland. Following these a mile or two, little settlements
are found nestling against a bank, or reposing by a mill pond; or maybe
on the crest of a hill that overlooks a dainty and peaceful valley,
where a pellucid brook flows rippling by as it sings gaily on the way to
“its bourne below the hill.”

  “Oh, for a romp through that blissful land,
      The Isle of the summer sea,
  Where nature appears in her fairest dress,
  Where the days are cool, and no heats oppress,
      And the heart must dance with glee.”


The headwaters of numerous small streams are passed in further progress
east, until at Harmony a network of rivers is on every hand. North Lake,
at almost the extreme east of the Island, on the north shore, is reached
from here. It is decidedly picturesque, and would well reward the artist
in search of good subjects. For camping it offers ideal sites at its
western end, where it receives the clear little stream that flows
through and out into the sea. This is a choice spot for trout; in fact
one of the best.


Years ago, on one of the pretty wooded knolls overlooking the shore at a
point distant from any settlement, a summer camp was pitched. Three
girls of the party were one day taking a long ramble along the coast,
when they walked unexpectedly into a group of armed men so busily
engaged, or so confident of isolation, that they had forgotten to
station a look-out to warn them of anyone approaching. They were
smugglers, but otherwise respectable; and, fortunately for the girls,
the days of freebooters were past. The girls were immediately
surrounded, and an angry discussion ensued between the men who numbered
some eighteen or twenty. The smugglers had been caught in the midst of
their work, and they were not nearly ready to leave. Hence it was
proposed to hold the girls captive for the next day or two, to prevent
an alarm being given. The girls were, of course, greatly distressed, and
the incident threatened to cause grave trouble.

Finally one of the girls, who had assumed the leadership of her party in
the controversy, spoke out and frightened the leader by telling him they
were three of a large party, the remainder of which would soon come and
look for them. As a matter of fact the party only numbered seven, all
told, of whom five were women. In addition the girl volunteered, and so
did her companions, to preserve strict secrecy about the matter if they
should be allowed to leave. A consultation was again held, as a result
of which, after exacting the strictest secrecy under pain of future
penalty, the girls were allowed to depart, the name and address of the
spokeswoman being taken, however, in precaution.

The girls left, and returned to the camp. For two days their companions
could not understand the feverish anxiety with which they watched two
schooners that were hovering about some miles off shore. At last the
vessels departed. The girls kept their secret well, and the incident
gradually passed out of active memory.

One day, however, a package was mysteriously left at the door of that
one of the girls who had assumed leadership in the negotiations with the
smugglers. It was found by the young lady herself. It contained material
for a handsome silk dress, and, in addition a roll of finest French
lace. On an enclosed card was marked the single word, “Thanks.” The
package had been laid at the door, and there was no way of returning it;
so what was to be done?

It is said that women “wink” at smuggling, sometimes, in order to add to
their fascination by the addition of sundry little pieces of _lingerie_;
and so please the men. Be this as it may, it is recorded that a certain
young lady soon appeared in gorgeous raiment, in which real French lace
played no unimportant part; and it is also recorded, though hard to
believe, that one woman had been found who could keep a secret, for not
even the other two of the trio ever learned the origin of the handsome

An extract relating to camping life will be of interest to all who enjoy
that method of “living close to nature.”

“Here are ladies to spend the day! Let us meet them at the station. This
is the carriage—a hay wagon, with boards across for seats. In we pile.
Crack goes the whip, and we are off, a merry party enough as we hold on
to one another for dear life, to keep from being jolted out. ‘Oh! what a
bump!’ But what matters a bump when the heart is light; and we wake the
echoes with song and glee.

We are all starving when we reach camp, and culinary operations are soon
in full swing.

All shortcomings are overlooked or made light of. If anyone puts salt in
his tea, or drinks vinegar for lime-juice, the mistake increases the
fun; but when the coffee won’t pour, and an investigation discloses a
chicken inside, the climax is reached. After that all are sober—because
they cannot laugh any more—and lie around in picturesque confusion,
enjoying a shady rest in the heat of the day. Some swing in hammocks,
novel in hand, but perhaps not in thought, for the novelty of the
situation exceeds that of the story. Some have a quiet game of cards—a
log for table. The lazy man sleeps the sleep of peace, till wakened by
the cry of Kitty, the energetic member of the party, who exclaims ‘Oh,
dear! I did not come here to sleep! I’m off to explore. If only I were
on the opposite side,’ with a longing glance across the water. Cousin
Will gallantly comes to her assistance; and taking her up like a
feather, is soon in mid-stream. ‘Quick! snap them!’ cries Florence, ‘and
we will send the picture to Will’s best girl’; while plump Fanny, with
her 150 pounds avoirdupois, looks longingly on.

At evening we drink a cup of tea and look to our fishing gear. Flies,
rods, and baskets are put in order. All clothing of any value is
discarded. Top boots pulled on, pipes filled, and we wend our way up or
down stream, to some favorite pool. Everything is quiet but the swish of
the lines. The fish are lively but small; and just as we are tiring of
that kind of sport our hearts are gladdened to see, peering through a
cloud, the bright full moon. Her silver light replaces the fading
after-glow of the sunset. The small fish suddenly pause and disappear as
if they had gone to their bed; and silence reigns in the forest.

[Illustration: Trout Stream—Prince Edward Island]


Now we know that the real fun will begin, if there is to be any. Sure
enough, before long, and without the slightest warning, a quick splash
breaks the water, and the click, click, of Tom’s reel announces the
hooking of the first three-pounder. The sportsman’s heart beats high, as
with practiced eye and feeling hand he follows the wild rushes of the
speckled beauty, and finally, with doubled rod plays him into the
shallows, where he is secured. And now the sport waxes warm. The water
is beaten with foam as we fight with the struggling leviathans, and the
enthusiastic Harry rushes in to the neck, net in hand, to capture a fish
that pulls like a whale. We take our way back to camp with light hearts
and heavy baskets. The ladies apostrophize the moon and the beauty of
the night; but sentiment gives way to cake and coffee. Soon we start for
the railroad station. Various and comical are the adventures of the
shady roads, though, finally, we catch the train, and bid adieu to our
tired but happy visitors. Such were our days in camp—oases in the desert
of life.”

[Illustration: Souris, Prince Edward Island]

The town of Souris is on Colville Bay at the eastern end of the Island.
As would be expected from its remote situation, it is quiet and
peaceful, and, like most of the Island resorts, it offers attractions
only to those who enjoy living in isolated places. Such places always
have a character or individuality of their own not found in or near
crowded centres. They also offer the great advantage of inexpensive
living. Steamers leave from here for Pictou, N. S., and also for the
Magdalen Islands. These islands are populated by Acadian fishermen, and
are visited by many on account of the quaint old-world life that may be
seen there. A very large fishing industry is carried on from the
Magdalen Islands, and many American and Canadian vessels frequent those
waters. Lobstering and sealing are carried on there in the proper
seasons, and sea birds are found in remote parts in enormous number.


Souris itself is an old Acadian village. It has a pleasant strip of sand
beach, and enjoyable summer days are spent by those who seek the quiet
hospitality of the cool little place.

Going east from Mount Stewart Junction on the southern loop of the
eastern division of the Prince Edward Island Railway, the Cardigan River
is reached. This empties into Cardigan Bay to the north of the
promontory on which stands Georgetown, a small seaport and summer
resort. Passing Brudenell, Georgetown, by the Junction of the Brudenell
and Montague Rivers, is reached. A very pleasing picture is presented by
the flocks of sheep and young, sportive lambs feeding in the fields just
recently harvested, together with the smiling “stooks” of grain, and the
never-failing dark green belt of trees for a background.

After Charlottetown, Summerside, and the district bounded by Bradalbane,
New London, Rustico and Hunter River, there is no doubt that the
Georgetown-Montague River district comes next in importance. Indeed, the
first two centres are named in that order chiefly because they are
populous, with some life, and on that account have superior attractions
for the average summer visitor. The quadrangle bounded by the four next
named points takes its place because the scenery is good, and the
district quite accessible. But for beauty of scene the more remote
Georgetown-Montague River district is surely second to none, and without
fear of contradiction it may be termed picturesque and charming. The
six-mile run from Montague Junction to Montague through beautiful
woodlands, with occasional prospect of hill, valley and stream, is most
enjoyable; and lovely Montague, and quaint Georgetown with its wide,
quiet, and pleasant streets and modest little shore bungalows, are both
places that should be seen by all.

Georgetown carries on a small shipping trade, and fishing is an
industry. Anyone that loves a quiet and old-fashioned place, with grassy
streets and tranquil shore, will be sure to be at home in the pleasant
little resort. Steamers leave from here for Lower Montague,
Charlottetown, Pictou and the Magdalen Islands. There are ample
opportunities for boating and canoeing on the harbor and outflowing


  1. A Cool Retreat, Montague
  2. Montague
  3. Montague
  4. Woodland Scene, Montague
  5. Five Generations
  6. Fishing in the Dunk River


From Charlottetown another easterly division of the Prince Edward Island
Railway, the most southerly of all, runs to Murray River and Murray
Harbor. Dipping south, and in the main following the contour of the
coast a few miles in, it has its terminus at the most southerly harbor
on the east coast.

The scenery along this route is quite interesting, and there are a
number of Scottish villages of small size along the way. Murray Harbor
is another little stopping place where there is a very homelike hotel at
which to sojourn. There is boating and driving, and, of course,
sea-fishing. Like Alberton and Tignish, etc., it is one of the quietest
places that can be found anywhere; and as there is good air, very
pleasant days may be spent with its hospitable people.

Lawrence W. Watson’s description of a summer scene is well adapted to
give a glimpse of Island life for those who are nature-lovers. “Some
love the open countryside where golden-rods wave their orange plumes,
and blue and white asters bestar the field borders. Others like the wet
swamp with its tangle of grasses and sedges and succulent plants
delighting in moisture. Some love the brookside fringed with the
white-flowered spikes of the snake-head, and the light graceful sprays
of the balsam dangling its golden jewels by the water’s edge.

“Others delight in the flats near the seashore where the prickly
saltwort roots, and silverweed spreads its finely cut, pinnate leaves
with their backing of silver, and above, on the banks, where the
Kingfisher nests, the pale yellow evening primrose mingles its blossoms
with those of the oxeye daisy, and of its sister, the mayweed with its
finely dissected leaves.

“But a more delectable retreat than any of these is the cool grateful
shade of the shadowy woodland, where the sun enters but shyly to
brighten and nourish, while the verdure may languish in the open beyond.
Here are the pearly-pink bells of the pyrolas, and the one-flowered
pyrola—that exquisitely scented, firm, waxen flower. Here the Clintonia
spreads out its three smooth leaves,—handsome, spotless, myrtle-hued
beauties—and later replaces its yellow-green lily-cups with berries
challenging the blue of the heavens.

“Here, too, the ‘wake-robin’—the shy, painted trillium—opens its three
tender dark-pencilled petals, resting in strong relief against the
background of its whorl of three leaves. Nearby the tenderest flower of
the woodland—the delicate white, purple-veined, lonely flowered wood
sorrel. Here, too, are orchids, and here we find the strange

“Above us the cool waving canopy of foliage, around us the stately
columns of tree trunks, mosses and leaves thick-strewn pave the pathway,
fair forms of flowers enriching the carpet. Thus nature patterns her
spacious cathedral with pillars and arches, groined roof and rich
carving: the soft, balmy breezes breathe exquisite music and waft
towards heaven the flowers’ devotion—a subtle, sweet incense, grateful,

Those from southern climes who seek these shores for cool summer joys
will be interested in a brief account of the Ice Boat Service between
Prince Edward Island and the mainland in the depth of winter. “During
about two months in mid-winter the crossing of the ice-crushing steamers
is supplemented by a service of ice-boats. These boats have double keels
which serve for runners, and sometimes the ice-fields are packed in
solidly between the two shores, enabling the boats to cross on the ice
without putting them into the water at all. Four leathern straps are
attached to each side of a boat for pulling it over the ice; and, of
course, the boats are strong and adapted to float the ice-strewn wave
when nearly open water has to be crossed. Rough or hummocky ice renders
the crossing very laborious and difficult, but frequently lanes of open
water enable the crews to row. Should snow storms arise there is danger
of losing the bearings, and travelling far out of the course. Compasses,
provisions, fur wraps, etc., are part of the regular equipment of this
ice-boat service. For a distance of about one mile on each side of the
Strait, the ice is attached solidly to the shore and is known as the
‘board ice.’ The crossing is made between Capes Tormentine and Traverse,
where the Strait is only nine miles wide. This leaves only seven miles
for the ice-boat ferry, but owing to the tide, which runs about four
miles an hour, carrying with it the ice fields, the distance travelled
by the boats is considerably increased. Teams carry the passengers from
the edge of the board ice to the railway stations. A trip by the capes
in winter is certainly an unique experience.”

Finally, it should be stated that the people of the Island, like the
climate, are pleasant and genial; and a stay in the “Garden of the Gulf”
is sure to bring the double reward of health and pleasure.

[Illustration: Truro Park—The Wishing Well]

          _Moncton to the Atlantic over the Halifax Division_


Going from Moncton, and turning east at Painsec Junction, the main line
of the Intercolonial Railway to Truro and Halifax may now be followed.
The line soon dips south and crosses the peninsula that juts out into
Chignecto Bay. Dorchester and Sackville are thus reached, and then the
boundary line is passed that marks an entrance into the province of Nova

The first district thus traversed is that of the Memramcook Valley, with
its interesting Acadian villages. The scenery of the almost level valley
and its high wooded ridges is very pleasant. Dorchester, with its
excellent farming land, has water communication with and is almost on
the Chignecto Bay. Sackville is a growing and prosperous place at the
mouth of the Tantramar River. It is widely known for the excellent
educational advantages it provides for the acquirement of many branches
of learning, by both sexes. The University of Mount Allison College
grants degrees in Divinity and Arts, and has honor courses in Classics,
Mathematics, Science, Philosophy and English Language and Literature. In
the study of Law it has an affiliation with the Dalhousie Law School.
The Academy and Commercial College is well equipped for good work, and
the Ladies’ College has a splendid music department (Conservatory of
Music) with every facility for thorough study, including a fine
three-manual pipe organ. The Owens’ Museum of Fine Arts, in connection
with the Owens’ Art Institution, has a notable collection of over four
hundred works of art. All of these institutions have an excellent
reputation, and they enjoy a liberal patronage from all over the
provinces. The Tantramar River also empties into Chignecto Bay. The
Tantramar marshes are widely known for their enormous crops of excellent
hay. Heavy shipments are made of fine cattle that have been raised in
this district.


  “Tantramar! Tantramar!
  I see thy cool green plains afar.
  Thy dykes where grey sea-grasses are,
      Mine eyes behold them yet.”

A short railway line runs from Sackville to Cape Tormentine.

In winter the Northumberland Strait is frozen in heavy ice, through
which the regular summer steamships cannot force their way. Special
ice-breaking steamers are therefore placed on the most open route
between Pictou and Charlottetown or Georgetown; but the ice is
occasionally so thick that even these powerful vessels are unable to
force their way across the frozen strait. At such times the short
crossing from Cape Tormentine to Cape Traverse is used, and the mail is
carried in ice-boats with double keels made to act as “runners.” These
are pushed by hand over the ice, and put into open water as required. An
account of a trip in this novel kind of “ferry” forms part of the
description under the heading “Prince Edward Island.”

The Missiguash River being now passed, and the province of Nova Scotia
entered, a brief description of the main features of the seaboard
province is here given.

The peninsula of Nova Scotia is so nearly surrounded by water that it is
frequently termed an island. It is connected to New Brunswick and the
mainland by a comparatively narrow isthmus at the head of Chignecto Bay.
The province of Nova Scotia is made up of this peninsula and the
adjoining island of Cape Breton to the northeast, separated only by the
Strait of Canso, which is not much more than a mile in width at its
narrowest part.

As has already been stated, the four provinces of Quebec, New Brunswick,
Prince Edward Island, and Nova Scotia offer wonderful contrasts in
scenery and natural configuration. They also offer a pleasing variety of
climate. As would be expected, it is cooler the nearer the approach to
the open Atlantic shore; and it is cooler again the farther east and
north one proceeds along the Atlantic seaboard. From this it will be
understood that on the north, or Bay of Fundy and Northumberland Strait
shore, it is warmer than on the south or open Atlantic side. On the
north the climate approximates closely to that of the Lower St. Lawrence
and southern part of New Brunswick. The south shore, then, is the
coolest part of the Maritime Provinces, and on the south shore itself an
increasingly lower temperature may be enjoyed as progress is made up the
coast in an easterly direction. It is important to remember this, for
out of the variety thus provided it is possible to choose a climate
suited to almost every need. In the chapter “Where to go—Recommended
Places,” these features are clearly explained.


The peninsular part of Nova Scotia is not nearly so mountainous as the
sister provinces of Quebec and New Brunswick, although it is much more
so than Prince Edward Island; but the island part of Nova Scotia, Cape
Breton, has ample variety of mountain and vale, and has in many parts of
it all the bold features found in rugged and mountainous countries. The
peninsula is not without its own mountains and chains of hills; but its
bold and striking scenery is found chiefly on the Atlantic coast side,
the rocky bays and headlands of which receive the full force of the
fierce winter gales.

Nova Scotia has a coast line of over one thousand miles, and it is rich
in bays, inlets and fine harbors. Its rivers, though numerous, are not
large. No great system of intercommunicating waterways is found in the
province, but the peninsula is so well watered by lake, river, and
stream that fully one fifth of its area is thus occupied. In Cape
Breton, for instance, the inland sea known as the Bras d’Or Lake is
about fifty miles long. It fully answers the purposes of great
intercommunicating waterways, for this enclosed sea has an interior
reach over a very large extent of country. Peninsular Nova Scotia has
numerous lakes, mostly of moderate and small dimensions, although
Rossignol Lake and a few others are quite large.

The province is bountifully blessed with many beautiful bays. The
easterly extension of the Bay of Fundy, known as Minas Basin, reaches
inland some sixty miles; and here the equinoctial tides have been known
to show the wonderful difference in level of forty to fifty feet.

The Maritime Provinces are bound together by the strongest ties. Each
province has its own advantages peculiar to its situation and natural
resources. In many cases what one has the other has not; and climate and
beauty of scene will be found in such delightful contrast in passing
from one province to the other that few not acquainted with these facts
could believe.

It is now matter of general knowledge that the early settlement of Nova
Scotia was made by the French. De Monts and Champlain explored parts of
the south shore, entered the Annapolis Basin, made choice of a site
there for settlement, and explored the Minas Basin. Later they founded
Port Royal, in the year 1605, but abandoned it a few years after. Some
Scottish settlers endeavored to open up the country. They made little
progress, and it was the French who increased most in numbers. Then came
the Acadian Expulsion, followed by a more rapid general settlement; for
by this time Halifax had been founded, German colonists began to arrive,
and, in later years, disbanded British regiments and United Empire
Loyalists commenced to swell the population. In the meantime the
province as part of Acadia, and later as Nova Scotia, had several times
been owned in turn by the French and English; but finally after the
taking of Quebec by Wolfe, and after the close of the American
Revolutionary War, a lasting peace ensued, and Nova Scotia, as part of
Canada and the British Empire, has prospered. Other details of history
that are of sufficient importance are brought out in connection with the
descriptions of localities.


Resuming the description of the country traversed by, and that tributary
to, the Intercolonial Railway, at the boundary line of the two provinces
of New Brunswick and Nova Scotia, the railway, immediately after
crossing the line, reaches Amherst, not far from Cumberland Basin.

The bright and prosperous town of Amherst is a pleasant centre for a
number of other interesting places. To the north is Tidnish on the
Northumberland Straits, a little watering place where good boating and
deep-sea fishing may be enjoyed. Stages run N.E. to Head of Amherst, and
there are other places, remote from the railroad, that are quite

The works of the Chignecto Marine Transport Railway are within easy
reach by carriage. This abandoned project was intended to lift ships of
a thousand tons, place them on huge ship-carriages by means of hydraulic
power, and then haul them by locomotives to the terminus on the
Northumberland Straits near Tidnish, where they were again to be put in
the water and so save the great distance a vessel must now go to reach
the St. Lawrence from the Bay of Fundy.

A few miles north-west of Amherst are the ruins of Fort Cumberland
beyond the Aulac River. On this site formerly stood the French fort of
Beausejour. It was from Fort St. Lawrence, also in the immediate
neighborhood, that the attack was made on the French fort that resulted
in its capture. In revolutionary times the Americans attacked Fort
Cumberland after it had passed into the possession of the British. The
attack failed, and the Colonials were compelled to give up and retire on
the St. John River. The view of Fort Cumberland is still an interesting
one, and many Acadian relics have been found in the vicinity. The view
from the bastions of the old fort is superb and far-reaching.


At Maccan Station coaches may be taken to Minudie and Joggins. It will
come as a surprise to many when they learn that the “Elysian Fields” are
near here. But such is the case, for that is the name of the rich
meadows near Minudie on the Chignecto Peninsula. The Joggins Shore is
not far from Minudie. It received its odd name from the remarkable
configuration of the cliffs which “jog in” and out so wonderfully that
many have been attracted here to study the phenomenon. The cliffs are
strikingly bold, often approaching four hundred feet in height. Fine
views may also be seen by taking the long drive to Apple River. Advocate
Harbor is another quaint and distant place, well worth a visit. Good
fishing is found on the upper waters of the Apple River which reach out
to Caribou Plains.

At Springhill Junction a short railroad leads west and south to
Parrsboro on the north shore of the Minas Basin. Here will be found a
pleasant little summer resort where boating and fishing may be enjoyed,
with good hunting in season. Fine views are obtained from Partridge
Island in front of the harbor. There are also good roads and pleasant
drives to places nearby. Moose River and Five Islands to the east may be
reached in this way, as well as Advocate Harbor and Cap d’Or on the
west. Massive Cape Blomidon, the end of the North Mountain chain, is
only eight miles distant on the projection that makes out from the
opposite or southern shore of Minas, and excellent views of it may be
had from the steamboat running between Parrsboro’ and Kingsport.

At River Philip and Oxford Junction, on the Intercolonial Railway, a
very pretty country is found, and both for fishing and country rambles
the district is an excellent one.

The country between Westchester and Folleigh Lake is remarkably
beautiful, and this, the Wentworth Valley, is one of the garden spots of
Canada. Many pretty views are had from the train as it climbs the
Cobequid Mountains which here run from east to west.

[Illustration: Wallace River, Wentworth Valley]


A drive or, better still, a walk through the valley will bring a hundred
pleasures to those who love nature and the beautiful. Here is the
winding Wallace River, and here, too, are fifty tiny streams, waterfalls
and brooks. Some are dashing headlong and sparkling in the sun; others,
with white foam shaded to a cream by the overhanging trees, have inner
depths that the eye cannot fathom until accustomed to the narrow limits
of light and shade.

The air is musical with falling and rippling water, so here let us take
a seat by the side of this merry cascade and listen to Nature’s
harmonies. So various are the notes, each waterfall having its own, it
is not difficult to select sounds that make melodies. But whatever the
melody, the dominant harmony is that of joy and gladness, and as the eye
views mountain, valley, woodland, river, waterfall and plashing brook,
surely no fairer scene could well be imagined.

And listen to the birds as they add their merry roundelay.

  “Break out and sing, ye happy birds!
  Your tender music needs no words
    To tell us everything.”

But the green shade of the woodland is inviting, and following the
gayest and most dashing of little streams that ever ran from mountain
side to woodland depths, we trace a path by the wild flowers, and pass
in, deeper and deeper. Right at the threshold is the daisy.

    “No shame feels she, though in lowly place,
  No envy of rivals gorgeously clad,
    Contentment gleams from her pure, fresh face,
  And her glance can gladden a heart that’s sad
    By its radiant grace.”

But deeper in we go. What splendid solitude. How quickly every fibre
responds to the thrilling call of nature. The faintly rustling leaves,
the plash of the brook, now subdued to becoming solemnity, the distant
silvery note of the bird at the edge of the forest, the shade and
restful monotone of the filtered light, the delightful air, the unbroken
calm, and above all the mysterious note of life and creation that
emanates from the very ground—all these compel thought and enjoyment of
the kind that ever leaves an ineffaceable imprint on the memory.


What noble trees! Here is one that throws lofty arms far out, and covers
with a fresh green roof a space that is rich in violets and many of the
humbler flowers. And see! in sheltered spot, far in and screened from
the mellow light, this tiny orchid beneath the shelter of her giant

            “Nestled at his root
  Is beauty, such as blooms not in the glare
  Of the broad sun.”

But now in company with our little woodland stream we pass out into the
more open valley. As we do so a sound as of a swelling echo from the
mountain range to the left falls on the ear, like unto the great forest
murmur of the bending pines when under the influence of a strong upland
breeze. It increases more and more, until suddenly it is apparent that
the sound comes from the twin-mountain chain to the right. Looking up,
and following the wave of sound with straining eyes, we search for the
cause, without perceiving it. Far up we gaze, where the trees and the
fleecy white clouds are outlined against the deep blue of the sky; and
then we realize that an Intercolonial train has passed high up in the
air, somewhere between sky and valley, but entirely concealed by the
dense forest growth—so much so that not even a trace of smoke or vapor
can be seen, so effectually have they been filtered and dissipated by
the thick woodland screen.

  “Oh! tenderly deepen the woodland glooms,
      And merrily sway the beeches;
  Breathe delicately the willow blooms,
      And the pines rehearse new speeches;
  The elms toss high till they reach the sky,
      Pale catkins the yellow birch launches,
  But the tree I love all the greenwood above
      Is the maple of sunny branches.”

[Illustration: Bungalow, Folleigh Lake]

Climbing the hills to reach the level of Folleigh Lake brings a reward
in the form of a gorgeous sunset; and if sunset is entrancing in this
quiet spot, what may be said of a row over the lake in the early morning
in time to see the golden sunrise of a bright August day. There is calm
for the minds of those who stay here in bungalow or cottage along the
margin of the lake, and the pleasant vista of wooded banks and beautiful
sheet of water in front lays immediate siege to the heart. How
everything sparkles in this beautiful mountain, and how delightfully
fresh and green are all the surroundings. It is one of the few places
where railway station and water tank strike no discordant note in the
general scene, so strong is it in simple beauty. The long bright lines
of rail that plunge abruptly into the forest and disappear so
mysteriously—leaving no trace of their whereabouts—look like lines of
beauty; and they soothe by their presence, for we know that in good
season we can regain the outer world when the all-too-brief vacation has
been spent.

[Illustration: Truro Park—A Romantic Spot]

But mountain days are over for the present, and so leaving the lake
behind, and with it the invigorating air of the heights, we gradually
pass through Londonderry, over the Folleigh River and into Truro,
obtaining many pleasant glimpses of Cobequid Bay along the route thus


Although Truro is a prosperous manufacturing town, and an important
Intercolonial centre as well, it is yet one of the prettiest and most
homelike places in Nova Scotia. A pleasant river runs nearby, and it is
surrounded by graceful and well-wooded hills. The streets are well laid
out and have abundance of shade; and the public buildings, the stores,
and the general appearance of the smart town make a strong impression
from the first. It is within a mile or two of Cobequid Bay, and the
farming land round about is excellent.

Acadian French once lived here, but the real settlement of Truro dates
from a few years after the “Expulsion.”

Truro is a very pleasant inland town in which to spend a vacation. There
is beautiful and romantic country on every hand, with excellent roads.
The fishing round about is fair; the hunting, in season, excellent.
There are many interesting places within easy reach, both by road and
rail; and the town offers a pleasant social life that is very enjoyable
for those who like to summer in a country town where comfort and some
variety in life may be had.

On the meadow-lands traces have been found of the dykes thrown up by the
Acadians. Willows planted by them have survived to this day.

The joy and pride of Truro is her beautiful pleasure ground, usually
called Victoria Park; but just as often termed the Joe Howe Park, from
the fact that it contains the Howe Falls, named after him, and also
because it is proposed to erect a Howe memorial there later on. The park
has been described as “Nature’s fairyland, . . . . with its groves, its
deep ravines and its beautiful waterfall.” This is about as good a brief
description as could be made. The park is so beautiful that merely to
describe it as one of the best in the province is to rob it of its just
due. It has really all the characteristics of a great park, deserves to
be classed with the chief pleasure grounds of Canada, and is, in fact,
superior in natural beauty to any of the well-known North American
parks. It is surely only a question of time before excursion trains will
bring people from all over to enjoy the delights of this picturesque


The entrance to Victoria park is at the front door of the town, for it
is close to the Intercolonial Railway Station. Scarcely anything has
been done here to alter the approach or surroundings. It has been left
almost as found, and the result is very satisfactory. The deep ravine
that runs through the park, and contributes so much to its romantic
aspect, has its opening at the place selected for an entrance, and a
pretty little stream winds its way in the channel thus provided. A
carriage drive penetrates for some distance, but the strong feature that
pleases all who visit here is the multitude of walks and romantic
by-paths that lead off in every direction.

Here are innumerable little dells with banks of brightest green; and
under shady birches or maples are comfortable seats for three or four
people—generally holding two, however—where with a pleasant book, or
dainty fancy work, many enjoyable hours may be spent in delightful
company with birds and flowers. Yonder is a rocky bluff, tipped with
green, and down its face trickles a little rill, wetting the projecting
edges of the rock and causing them to glisten like silver. Just opposite
are even bolder heights that are clothed in a wealth of woodland growth
reaching up to the very top.

Here the park brook turns off into more secluded ways, and following it,
instead of the road, a charming sylvan dale is found where not one sound
intrudes save the music of the birds and the gentle ripple of the
water—surely a fit retreat for artist, poet or dreamer. Here where
“nature reigns”:

  “Within its banks this little stream includes
  A world remote from all the world of men;
  And hides a kingdom far from mortal ken,
  In the green depths, where never foot intrudes.”

Would you stand by the “Wishing Well,” and give expression to your
fondest day-dreams? The well is here, up a gentle slope where all is
tranquil and secluded. Would you climb “Jacob’s Ladder”—steps up to
heaven—and land with your head in yon fleecy cloud? Here are the rustic
steps reaching to the top of the height. Would you visit the “Holy
Well,” where Acadian infants were christened in the long ago? Bible Hill
is a little distant, so here in the park is a “Holy Well” from which, by
no stretch of imagination, the same water flows.

Perhaps you are anxious to keep your youth, and to stave off the days of
grey hairs, wrinkles and rheumatism? Pray sit in the “Rejuvenating Seat”
by the Joe Howe Falls, and if you do not grow younger as you watch the
lovely sight—nothing else can stay the hand of time.

Then possibly you wish to test your self-control by peering over the
brink of the “Sheer-Drop” without shuddering; or you would entrench
yourself on the heights of “Spion-Kop,” ask important questions of the
“Sphinx,” from the bridge nearby, walk along the “Observation Gallery,”
or pass to the lower depths by “Muir’s Descent.”

In your walks about, the beauty of everything has taken complete
possession of you. The noble trees spreading a magnificent canopy over
your head bring to mind the words of Bryant, for here nature has “hewn
the shaft, laid the architrave and spread the roof above.” In such a
cathedral the mind soars upward:

                        “Ah, why
  Should we, in the world’s riper years, neglect
  God’s ancient sanctuaries, and adore
  Only among the crowd, and under roofs
  That our frail hands have raised?”

But here comes a maiden on her way to the “Nymph’s Grotto.” She is too
young, and floats along too buoyantly, to have come by way of the rustic
“Bridge of Sighs.” Barely eighteen, she cannot have interrupted her
tripping course to rest in the “Widow’s Proposal Seat”; but in all
probability she has stopped at the “Lily Cauldron” to admire the virgin

  “The white water-lilies, they sleep on the lake,
  Till over the mountain the sun bids them wake.

  At the rose-tinted touch of the long, level ray,
  Each pure, perfect blossom unfolds to the day.

  Each affluent pearl outstretched and uncurled
  To the glory and gladness and shine of the world.”

[Illustration: Scenes in TRURO PARK]

  1. Below the Falls
  2. “What Have You Found?”

[Illustration: In Victoria Park, Truro]

As the Truro vision in white, with happy lace and the light exulting
step of early youth, passes by, it is evident she will never need to sit
in the “Leap Year Engagement Seat,” where “no man may say ‘no’ to a
self-respecting, modest woman.” Let us hope that the heart of the male
to whom the leap-year question is here “popped” will not be affected by
the “Cold Chamber” nearby. And see, our pretty maiden does not stop and
rest in the “Irresistible Engagement Seat”; for is she not irresistibly
engaging herself, without art or other allurement.


And now by a happy inspiration we guess her name. She is “Phyllis,” of
course, and she is on her way to her own seat high up and
tree-embowered, where her lover has long and impatiently waited her
coming, as all true-lovers ever have done.

  “Thou art a fool, said my head to my heart,
  Yea, the greatest of fools, thou art,
  To be caught with a trick of a tress;
  By a smiling face or a ribbon smart—
      And my heart was in sore distress.

  Then Phyllis came by and her face was fair,
  And the sun shone bright on her golden hair,
      And her lips they were rosy red.
  Then my heart spake out with a brave, bold air—
      Thou art worse than a fool, O head!”

In the park will be found a spacious, amphitheatre-like picnic dell with
tables and conveniences for those who must indulge in the prosaic
occupation of eating. It is a delightful spot, and too much cannot be
said in its praise.

And finally, far in the woodland depths, where a fine tree has fallen
across the ravine, there will be found a choice spot known only to the
favored few at present, but which will be sought out by increasing
numbers as it becomes known. It is called “Toll-Bridge,” and here,
unobserved of prying eyes, the happy lover has the right to exact “toll”
from his _inamorata_, or sweetheart, for assisting her over. Not a
single maiden has been known to cross “unassisted,” and none may
successfully resist the payment of toll in true-lover’s coin.

In proceeding from Truro to Halifax, the train passes not far from the
pleasant little village of Stewiacke. It then meets the Shubenacadie
River and stops at the busy little village of that name. From this
centre many places east of Halifax may conveniently be reached by stage.
Maitland, Gay’s River, Upper and Middle Musquodoboit, and even Guysboro
and eastern shore points may all be reached in this manner. Passing by
the shore of Grand Lake, stopping at Windsor Junction—from which place
the picturesque village of Waverley may be reached, as well as Annapolis
Valley and north-shore points—and proceeding along the shore of the
beautiful Bedford Basin, the city of Halifax soon comes into view, and
the outer Atlantic shore has been reached.

[Illustration: In Point Pleasant Park, Halifax.]

                       _Halifax—an Ocean Gateway_


With a splendid situation on the slopes of a great harbor, Halifax
invites within her hospitable gates all who would sojourn for a while on
the shore of the breezy Atlantic. Here is surely a world-harbor, with
magnificent approaches, where fleets from every country may ride in
security, and here, more than in any port of Canada, the marine of every
nation, and the giant warship, too, may be seen. As many as fourteen
men-of-war, or battleships, have anchored here at one time, and the
Atlantic liners, the traders, the coasting steamers, the sailing vessels
and the multitude of sloops, fishing-smacks, yawls, sail boats, launches
and row boats all contribute to the general busy life of the port. Its
position on the eastern coast is supreme and cannot be challenged, a
position that indeed makes it an Empire port in every sense. So much is
this the case that with the assured growth of Canada, Halifax must
always keep pace; and at no very distant day a harbor rivalling that of
New York, a second Liverpool, will come into being, and Halifax will be
the seaport of a great British Canadian Empire.

The city has been termed the Cronstadt of America, and it well deserves
the name, for its wharves and anchorages are at the inner end of a great
five-mile waterway, the banks and islands of which provide commanding
positions for the eventful day when “war’s alarms” shall make defense


Active and stirring scenes have been witnessed here during the past
century. Privateers, blockade-runners, convoys or merchantmen, and war
vessels with prizes have well covered the inner waters of the harbor.
Busy times those, when in one day forty full-rigged ships, brigs and
schooners, with cargoes, were all sold at auction! But better days have
come, and peaceful commerce now prevails.

The Indian name for the water approach to Halifax was Chebucto, the
meaning of which is “greatest of havens.” The old name was well given,
for it is undoubtedly one of the world’s great harbors. The settlement
received its present name about the middle of the eighteenth century, in
compliment to Lord Halifax, the sponsor being Cornwallis.

The founding of Halifax was attended with great difficulties owing to
the hostility of the French and their Indian allies. The original
settlers came from England and the New England colonies, as well as from
Louisbourg when it was given up to the French by treaty. At that time
the woods ran to the water’s edge, and every foot of ground where now
stands the city had to be carved out of the forest. Boards and squared
timber were brought from Boston to build the first shelters.

Some twenty years after the settlement was showing signs of a steady
growth considerable excitement was caused by the arrival of 600 Maroons
who had been transported from Jamaica for participation in a rebellion
against the authorities of that island. They caused much trouble, and
showed a general unwillingness to work or do anything useful. At first
this did not show strongly, and work was done by them on that part of
the fortification known as the Maroon Bastion. But later they became
disaffected and troublesome. One complained that he had to work his farm
to get food. Another objected because yams, bananas and cocoa would not
grow in Nova Scotia. A third was angry because there were no wild hogs
to hunt. Instead of being a help to the Colony, they were an
encumbrance; and troops had to be detailed to keep guard and prevent an

Their life was altogether foreign to the country in which they found
themselves, and their customs could not be grafted on the tree of Nova
Scotian life. They became dissipated, and the only work they would do
was to hunt or fish. They were polygamous; they buried their dead with
unheard of rites in the hollows of the rocks, provided rum, pipe,
tobacco and two days’ rations, and thus sent off the ghost of the
departed for his journey to the undiscovered land.

Fortunately at this time a place was found for them in Sierra Leone in
the land from which they had originated, and greatly to the relief of
Sir John Wentworth, the governor at that time, they departed,
accompanied by general rejoicings of all in Halifax. Maroon Hall, their
former headquarters, has completely decayed; but the great cellar may
still be seen by the waters of Cole Harbor to the east of Halifax.

[Illustration: Purcell’s Cove, Halifax]


The city retains more traces of its British origin than any other place
in America. Just as Quebec is essentially French, so is Halifax
peculiarly British; and to go from one of these places to the other, and
yet to realize that both are on the Western Continent, is to experience
many surprises. Canada is not old enough to have imposing cities. To
many this is cause for congratulation, for who would care to go from New
York to Halifax to see a second Gotham; while visitors from Chicago,
Philadelphia, Ontario, and Western Canada find in old Halifax much that
is absolutely new to them. May these conditions continue for many years
to come, for there is nothing incompatible between progress and the
preservation of all old and well-tried things that fit in with and do
not block the wheels of the car in which we all travel, and that has
marked above it the direction “Onward!”

Halifax is one of those restful and delightful places where each day’s
recreation and exercise brings a night of peace and repose, and where
all the conveniences of modern life may be enjoyed without the turmoil
and din of the too-bustling city. And the country, the woods, the lakes
and the streams are all quite near; so that a life half-city,
half-country, may be lived without the inconvenience of having to study
traffic conditions at “rush” hours, etc.

In your rambles without the city you will come to a charming little
lake, with a fairy like boat resting tranquilly on its quiet surface,
where wild flowers spread a fragrant carpet around, and gay little
songbirds are in concert on the quivering birches. You will stop to
drink in the beauties of the delightful scene, and possibly as you do so
you will notice a young couple whose marriage, apparently, is only a
week or two in the past. Could there be a better paradise, the world
over, for bridal couples than the Maritime Provinces! They are gazing
with rapt attention at the scene, and you believe they are talking. Are
you curious to know what he is saying and what she replies. Listen! he
is speaking.

  “There’s not a little boat, sweetheart,
  That dances on the tide;—
  There’s not a nodding daisy-head
  In all the meadows wide,—

  In all the warm green orchards,
  Where bright birds sing and stray,
  There’s not a whistling oriole
  So glad as I this day.”

                                * * * * *

  She said, “In all the purple hills,
  Where dance the lilies blue,
  Where all day long the sleeping larks
  Make fairy-tales come true.

  Where you can lie for hours and watch
  The unfathomable sky,
  There’s not a breath of all the June
  That’s half so glad as I!”

A conspicuous feature, visible from almost any part of the city, is the
Citadel. From its height a splendid and inspiring view may be had of an
immense stretch of country; while the harbor, the coast and the
surrounding waters are spread at the feet like a huge map in relief.
There is no better way of becoming acquainted with the plan of the city
and environs; for by walking around the ramparts every outlying area may
be seen reaching in to the streets immediately below. By the Citadel
gate may be seen two mortars that were used at Louisbourg when that
fortress surrendered to Amherst and Wolfe. Visitors are admitted to the
citadel on payment of a small fee. The masonry work is enormously
strong, and the old-world appearance of glacis, moat and bastion suggest
great strength. It all typifies a fast-decaying system of fort defence,
and on that account, and because so picturesque, it is worthy of the
closest examination and interest. The one o’clock gun still booms from
the upper rampart of the Citadel.

[Illustration: HALIFAX]

  1. City Hall, Halifax
  2. Provincial Building, Halifax
  3. Sebastopol Monument, Halifax
  4. Herring Cove, near Halifax

The modern fortifications for the defence of city and harbor are on the
islands, and along the shores that make out to the entrance. On George’s
Island is Fort Charlotte, and opposite is Fort Clarence. Forts Ogilvie,
Cambridge and Point Pleasant are in the park. Ives’ Point and Fort
MacNab are on MacNabs Island. York Redoubt crowns a bluff on the western
side of the harbor, and Spion Kop is at Sambro by the harbor entrance.


The Dockyard is an interesting place to visit, and the huge Dry Dock
should be seen when a great vessel is within its gates.

A favorite recreation on summer evenings is to row or drift in the
harbor, and listen to the music given by the bands of the flagships when
naval squadrons are in port.

The Provincial Parliament Building contains many interesting historical
portraits, and an excellent library that is strong in provincial,
Acadian and early history, etc. The long oak table from the cabin of the
_Beaufort_ transport, around which sat the council when Cornwallis took
the oath as Governor of Nova Scotia, is preserved in a room adjoining
the Council Chamber. In the grounds may be seen the South African
Memorial of the Nova Scotian soldiers who fell in the Boer War, and also
the Statue of the many-sided Joseph Howe.

A memorial to the soldiers who fell in the Crimean War is erected near
the gates of St. Paul’s Old Churchyard; and not far away is Government
House, the residence of the Lieutenant-Governor of the Province. City
Hall stands in its own enclosure, and close by is the quaint old clock
tower erected by the Duke of Kent near the foot of Citadel Hill.
Punctual himself, he expected others to be equally so. In a nearby
building will be found a Natural History Museum, open daily, and well
worth seeing. St. Paul’s Church still includes as part of its structure
much of the old portion erected soon after the founding of Halifax.
American visitors will be interested in learning that the frame of the
old building was imported from Massachusetts.

Point Pleasant Park is one of the chief attractions for all who visit
the city. It is a park of great natural beauty, situated at the outer
end of the peninsula that includes Halifax. Here by the rocky points, on
the banks, or from seats under the trees, splendid views of the harbor
approaches may be obtained. Far out in the offing is the open sea where
white-sailed vessels from many parts are drawing nearer together as they
make the harbor. Sea birds are circling and skimming the waves in easy
flight, and the cool breeze blows landward, bringing with it that
invigorating salty tang of old ocean, every breath of which seems like a
draught from the fabled “Fountain of Youth.”


  “Ah! what pleasant visions haunt me
    As I gaze upon the sea!
  All the old romantic legends,
    All my dreams, come back to me.

  Sails of silk and ropes of sendal,
    Such as gleam in ancient lore;
  And the singing of the sailors,
    And the answer from the shore!

  Till my soul is full of longing
    For the secret of the sea,
  And the heart of the great ocean
    Sends a thrilling pulse through me.”

Ocean liners, steamships, sailing vessels, motor-boats and yachts are
constantly passing, and the sight is full of pleasant variety. A walk to
the old Martello Tower may be enjoyed by striking in from the sea over
one of the ingoing paths; and enjoyable walks by the old Chain Fort,
past the masked batteries, and around to the beautiful prospect of the
North-West Arm, are all of convenient length, The Club House of the
Royal Nova Scotian Yacht Squadron is near the Pleasant Street entrance
to the park.

The Public Gardens are easily accessible from almost any part of the
city, being centrally situated. There are larger, but no finer botanical
gardens than these, and the spreading trees, the shady walks, the ponds
and lakes, the trim-kept green, the plants, and the great beds of
splendid flowers, always in constant succession of bloom, make the
“Gardens” a beautiful spot. It is a favorite centre of outdoor
recreation and life, and here military band concerts and garden and
water _fetes_ are given through the summer.


  1. Fountain in Public Gardens, Halifax
  2. Rustic Bridge, Public Gardens, Halifax
  3. Pavilion, Public Gardens, Halifax
  4. In Point Pleasant Park, Halifax


Everyone living anywhere near Halifax takes great pride in the beautiful
expanse of water known as the North-West Arm. It is, as its name
indicates, an arm of the sea that branches off from the bay and flows
inland to the south of the city, in a north-westerly direction. It is
about four miles long, and is crowned on each side by wooded banks. It
is a great centre for canoeing, rowing, yachting, motor-boating, etc.,
as well as for bathing, diving, swimming and general aquatic sport. Here
in the height of the summer the famous regattas are held, when the
numerous club house porches, the banks of the water and every available
spot is occupied to witness the races. The sight is gay, unique and
peculiar, in its extent, to Halifax. The excursion steamers, sailing
vessels, tugs, and boats of every description, as well as private
yachts, launches, rowing boats and canoes that line the long course make
an exhilarating scene, and one that brings many from hundreds of miles
distant to witness it.

Cricket, golf, tennis, curling, boating, canoeing, bathing and diving
may all be enjoyed in or near the city; and the locality is a centre for
good fishing and the best of hunting.

Of the many favorite drives, one of the best is that along the shore of
the Bedford Basin. High hills look down on the noble sheet of water, and
at Bellevue, Bedford, etc., are comfortable stopping-places. Here the
Duke of Kent lived, at that part of the shore known as Prince’s Lodge.
The house has fallen in ruins, and all that remains is the bandstand.
Many pretty bungalows and pleasant summer places are found along the

Along this shore camped the survivors of the great French Armada of
1746, that was to have conquered all British America. Of the 40 warships
and 30 transports that left Brest, only a scattered remnant survived
storm and disaster and was able to return to the home port. Halifax,
Louisbourg and Annapolis were all to have been taken from the British by
this formidable fleet. But disaster followed in the wake of nearly every
vessel of the great squadron; for after being dispersed and scattered by
heavy storms that destroyed many vessels of the fleet, the survivors
became the prey of a violent and fatal sickness. They wintered along the
shore of the Bedford Basin, and died there by thousands. The commander,
d’Anville, died suddenly and was buried on the island now known as
George’s Island. The second in command, D’Estournel, committed suicide
on his sword, in a fit of despair. La Jonquière then assumed command of
the weakened and dispirited force. He burned one of his frigates, and
other vessels, the remains of which may still be seen in the Bedford
Basin near the Three-Mile House, and also close to Navy Island. Then
rallying his command he left to attack Annapolis, but again was the
fleet battered and dispersed by storms, and the survivors had to endure
many hardships before they reached their native France. Rust-eaten
muskets and swords have frequently been found along the Bedford shore
when clearing away the underbrush.


Other good routes are those to Dutch Village and the Dingle, to the
Chain Lakes, and to the Rocking Stone on the way to St. Margaret’s Bay.

Lawrencetown, about two hours’ drive from Dartmouth, has a good beach
with surf-bathing, and may be reached by stage. Chezzetcook, an old
Acadian settlement, is also quite accessible in the same way. York
Redoubt, Falkland Village and Herring Cove all make pleasant drives.

The Musquodoboit River country to the east of Halifax had French
settlements fully half a century before the first British settler
arrived at what is now the great stronghold and capital city of Nova

Crossing to Dartmouth on the ferry a pleasant road leads to the
Dartmouth Lakes. This beautiful chain of lakes is part of a system of
waterways intended to be made continuous from Halifax and Dartmouth to
the Bay of Fundy, at Maitland and Cobequid Bay, by means of the
Shubenacadie River. A canal was to have connected the lakes and river,
but the project fell through. The ruins of the old locks at the
Dartmouth end are well worth seeing. Excellent views may be enjoyed from
Dartmouth and Prince Arthur Parks. Many camping parties are found on the
shores of the first and second lakes, and boating is there a favorite

Another pleasant road is that to Cow Bay, where a fine beach and good
bathing may be enjoyed.

[Illustration: Regetta Day, Halifax]


  “I leave the town with its hundred noises,
    Its clatter and whir of wheel and steam,
  For woodland quiet and silvery voices,
    With a camp of bark by a crystal stream.

  Oh, peaceful and sweet are forest slumbers
    On a fragrant couch with the stars above,
  As the free soul marches to dulcet numbers
    Through dreamland valleys of light and love.”

Enjoyable trips may be made from Halifax to the Minas Basin, Grand Pré,
and the Annapolis Valley; along the south shore to St. Margaret’s Bay,
Chester, and Mahone Bay, Liverpool, Lockeport and Shelburne, and to
Lakes Rossignol, Keejim-Koojie, Ponhook, etc.

No port of Canada offers the numerous water trips that may be made from
Halifax. Steamers leave here for St. John’s, Newfoundland; St.
Pierre-Miquelon, Magdalen Islands, Pictou and Prince Edward Island,
Gaspé peninsular points, Sydney, Ingonish, Aspy Bay, Louisbourg, Glace
Bay, Bras d’Or Lakes, Port Hood, Mabou and many other Cape Breton
points; Guysboro, Mulgrave and other ports in the Strait of Canso;
Country Harbor, Isaacs Harbor, Sherbrooke, Liscomb, Sonora, Jeddore,
Ship Harbor, Tangier, Sheet Harbor, and many places along the east
shore; Lunenburg, Liverpool, Shelburne, Yarmouth on the south shore; St.
John, N.B.; and finally, not including transatlantic ports, there are
trips to Jamaica and Santiago: and to New York, Boston and Philadelphia.

Other particulars of Halifax and eastern shore localities will be found
in the chapter on “Where to Go.” The deep-sea fisheries of the South
Shore are very large and important, and at Halifax and elsewhere along
the coast ample opportunities are found for catching swordfish, leaping
tuna, mackerel, codfish and haddock, etc. Whaling was formerly carried
on by numerous vessels outfitting and sailing from Halifax. A settlement
of Nantucket Whalers was made in Dartmouth, but they afterwards left;
and the whaling industry gradually died out as a result of the great
slaughter of those fish in early days.


[Illustration: East River, near New Glasgow]

                     _Nova Scotia, North and East_


Between Truro and Stellarton there is a continuance of the pleasant
scenery found in the Truro Valley; but the Northumberland Straits Shore
and neighboring territory between Oxford Junction and Stellarton, and
beyond that to Mulgrave and the Strait of Canso, has features of its own
quite unlike those of the country previously described. The nearest
approach in general characteristics is found at the mouth of the
Miramichi, and in the neighborhood of Point du Chene. It is a country of
meadow lands and tranquil rivers, although as Antigonish and other
places are approached the meadows are frequently varied by the addition
of hills and occasional rolling land.

It is a land of verdure and freshness; and if bold mountain ranges are
absent, in their place will be found prolific meadows, luxurious
tree-growth, quiet streams, singing birds, and abundant floral life.

  “’Twas in June’s bright and glorious prime,
  The loveliest of the summer time,
  The laurels were one splendid sheet
  Of crowded blossoms every where;
  The locust’s clustered pearl was sweet,
  And the tall whitewood made the air
  Delicious with the fragrance shed
  From the gold flowers all o’er it spread.”


Pugwash is a quiet and modest little watering place on the
Northumberland Straits, only a short run from Oxford Junction. There is
bathing on the shore, and boating in the excellent harbor. Some
bungalows have been erected in a fine situation for the water view and
the cool evening air. Like most of the places that are a little remote
from the beaten highway of travel, Pugwash is quite quaint in its
appearance and everyday life. The streets are very pleasant, there are
plenty of river views and walks, and there are many good roads. It is
one of those places where a very quiet and restful summer may be spent
at very moderate expense.


The scenery by Tatamagouche River, and also by the Swiss settlement of
River John, is very enjoyable. A pleasing sheet of water is at
Tatamagouche. The land is low, but the bay winds and turns and has
little coves in it, so that it makes an attractive waterway for boating
and canoeing. Malagash Point makes out at the far western extremity of
the main bay. The Tatamagouche is a pretty little stream with
picturesque banks—the flat country here gradually taking a moderate
elevation in parts. River John is a stream of fair proportions, nicely
wooded with young trees along its gentle sloping banks of brightest
green. Going east from here the country becomes somewhat undulating, and
on approaching Lyon’s Brook and Pictou, hills of bolder height are seen.

The country through which we are passing is that of the blackbird and
the bobolink, and the rivers, water reaches and tall grasses are the
homes of wild fowl of almost every kind.

  “The redwinged merle, from bending spray
    On graceful pinions poising,
  Pours out a liquid roundelay
    In jubilant rejoicing.
  The cock-grouse drums on sounding log,
    The fox forsakes his cover,
  The woodcock pipes from fen and bog,
    From upland leas the plover.


  The speckled trout dart up the stream,
    Beneath the rustic bridges,
  While flocks of pigeons glance and gleam
    O’er beach and maple ridges.
  The golden robin trills his note
    Among the netted shadows,
  The bobolink with mellow throat
    Makes musical the meadows.”


Pictou is situated on a fine harbor, possibly the finest along the
shore, which has three rivers emptying into it. It is a delightful
little summer resort, where many enjoyable drives may be taken into the
surrounding country. Walks about will reveal many charming spots. There
are pretty brooks, and refreshing woodland walks. The boating is
excellent, and the nearby shore offers pleasant variety in coves and
tiny creeks. There is a clean sand beach for sheltered or harbor
bathing. Good trout fishing will also be found in the surrounding
streams. Lord Strathcona has a summer home in the neighborhood. The East
River communicates with New Glasgow, only some 9 miles distant. The
growing town of Westville is on the Middle River. West River has much
pretty scenery along its course, and it is here that most of the fishing
is done.

Pictou was once the site of a large Indian village. Later the French
tried to build up a settlement and they were followed by Pennsylvanians
from the neighborhood of Philadelphia. Finally, many hardy Highlanders
found their way here, and by them the real settlement was made. At the
mouth of Pictou harbor the last fight between the Kennebec and Micmac
Indians took place.

Stages leave here for many places of interest along the shore, and also
to some inland points. Steamships also leave for Prince Edward Island,
for Quebec and St. Lawrence Gulf ports, for Hawkesbury and the Strait of
Canso, and for West Cape Breton and the Magdalen Islands.


The whole neighborhood is a pleasant one, and, in addition, there is
some of the life of a busy little town that many tourists consider
essential in a summer stopping-place.

[Illustration: ANTIGONISH]

  1. Pictou
  2. South River, Antigonish
  3. West River, Stellarton
  4. Garden of Eden Lake
  5. Grey’s Falls, Hopewell
  6. Antigonish, Cattle on the Intervale

The country between Truro and Stellarton on the southern loop or main
line of the Intercolonial Railway has not been opened up or developed
for summer visitors. It is nevertheless a beautiful country; and walks,
drives and excursions by rail from Truro or New Glasgow along the pretty
hills, vales and streams will bring much pleasure.

Stellarton and New Glasgow are growing and prosperous coal-mining and
manufacturing centres. Stellarton is the centre of a coal district from
which immense quantities of that valuable fuel have been mined. New
Glasgow is a bright and up-to-date town with excellent stores and
commercial facilities. There are pleasant drives along the East River,
and to the south.

Proceeding east past Merigomish and other small places, the very
interesting and pretty town of Antigonish, at the head of a small harbor
on St. George’s Bay, is reached. It is a Scottish settlement that has
more individuality and charm than would be thought possible for a town
on a railroad. It is a place of pleasant shady streets, picturesque
hills, winding streams and numerous bridges. Its fine Catholic Cathedral
and modern College are conspicuous objects from all around. Antigonish
is not spoiled by the proximity of a large city, and so the life of the
surrounding country centres in the busy little place; and it is one of
those delightful places that somehow appeal to the heart from the first
moment of arrival.

The harbor is some distance off, and, being shallow, is little used.
There are very pleasant drives in every direction. For a pleasant stay
in a pretty country town, few places will please more than this; and for
those who like that pastime, some canoeing may be done in the adjacent
waters. The climate is very enjoyable, mild and temperate. The nights
are lovely.

  “On summer nights the yellow stars
    Shine through the watches held on high
  Suspended from the countless spars
    Of cloud-fleets anchored in the sky;
  And wafted past upon the breeze
    Slow winding down from distant heights
  There comes the roll of far-off seas
      On summer nights.

                                * * * * *

  On summer nights the steadfast stars
    Swing from the masts of shadow ships
  That lie within the harbor bars
    Where the long sea-roll curls and dips;
  And still there comes in divers keys
    Down drifting from those beacon lights
  The spectral wash of far-off seas
      On summer nights.”

Antigonish is an important centre for stage coach and other drives to
many places of great interest. The route to Lochaber, College Lake and
Sherbrooke leads past the Antigonish Mountains to the St. Mary’s River
and Atlantic Ocean on the south, and is full of variety. There are
drives to Morristown and Georgeville, and to Malignant Cove by a
delightful road through the hills. It was here that the British frigate
_Malignant_ took the shore in a heavy gale. Near here is the Scottish
settlement of Arisaig, which has a romantic situation and a little

At Heatherton Station a stage may be taken for Guysboro at the head of
Chedabucto Bay. It is a most interesting drive. Beyond Heatherton lies
Tracadie, a quaint French district where there is a Trappist Monastery,
the Belgian Monks of which make excellent farmers. Both in Tracadie and
Harbor au Bouche a quaint old-time life is lived, and the places are
well worth a visit.


Proceeding now to the most easterly railroad point in peninsular Nova
Scotia, the village of Mulgrave is reached. Mulgrave is on the Strait of
Canso, the much-travelled marine highway from the Atlantic Ocean to the
Gulf of St. Lawrence, and by the use of which the long voyage around the
Island of Cape Breton is rendered unnecessary. It has been termed the
“Golden Gate of the St. Lawrence,” and without doubt is a most
picturesque waterway. Thousands of vessels pass through here every year,
and at almost any hour of the day the sight is a pleasant one and full
of variety. Bold and plentifully wooded hills flank the splendid
waterway for a considerable length of its fifteen-mile course. Here the
Intercolonial Railway ferry crosses and recrosses to Cape Breton Island
on the opposite shore of the Strait, carrying over passengers, cars,
etc., to and from Sydney and intermediate stations on the island. There
are many pleasant trips from Mulgrave by steamboat to Guysboro, Canso,
Arichat, Port Hawkesbury and Port Hastings, Bras d’Or Lake by way of St.
Peter’s, Port Hood, Margaree and Cheticamp on the West shore of Cape
Breton, and to Montague and Georgetown on Prince Edward Island.


The town of Guysboro is quite an old settlement, for Nicholas St. Denys
had a fishing station at the place now known as Fort Point. The
fisheries here have always been very valuable, and Chedabucto, at the
head of which Guysboro is, has been the resort of many vessels engaged
in fishing for mackerel, herring, codfish and pollock. The settlement
itself with its long street of most generous width lying along the
water, at a little distance from it, and the grassy little streets on
the overlooking hills, is very attractive as a quiet summer resort, with
good boating and canoeing. As a centre for sailing and excursions by
water, and also for drives in every direction, it is excellent. Being
somewhat remote, it is a place where a restful summer may be spent, with
cool air and genial surroundings. Like Antigonish, it is a place with a
homelike air that takes the fancy from the very first; and here, of
course, boating and fishing are at the very door. There are pleasant
water trips nearby to Milford Haven and Boylston, and innumerable longer
excursions to places on Chedabucto Bay, to Isle Madame and other Cape
Breton points, as well as to Hawkesbury and Mulgrave on the Strait of
Canso. There are good drives, also, with fishing sport, to Salmon River
and surrounding lakes, as well as to Whitehead, Tor Bay and other places
on the outer Atlantic coast. In summer the water of Chedabucto Bay is
ordinarily quiet and smooth, and it takes just a moment to pass out into
the open bay from Guysboro’s little shelter-harbor. When a gale blows
from the east, the sea piles up in rollers and sweeps up to the harbor
entrance in fine commotion. It is a place half-country and half-shore,
with sea life predominating.

[Illustration: Guysboro]


  “I picked up shells with ruby lips
    That spoke in whispers of the sea,
  Upon a time, and watched the ships,
    On white wings, sail away to sea.

  The ships I saw go out that day
    Live misty—dim in memory;
  But still I hear, from far away,
    The blue waves breaking ceaselessly.”

The coast line west of Chedabucto Bay is rich in bays and roomy inlets,
with numerous lakes and rivers in communication. The St. Mary’s River
waters a fine tract of country, and connects with the beautiful Lochaber
Lake some thirty miles inland. A stage-coach drive across the peninsula
from beautiful Antigonish to the head navigation waters of the St.
Mary’s River at Sherbrooke is an enjoyable summer outing. The scenery is
finely varied, and the whole district is full of interest.

On the middle St. Mary’s River good salmon fishing is often found at the
Crow’s Nest, a typical interior country place.

Considerable salmon fishing with nets is carried on in the lower waters
of the river between Sherbrooke and Sonora on the coast, a distance of
about nine miles.

The village of Sherbrooke has a very pleasant situation on the river,
and it is one of those quiet and remote places where a thoroughly
restful vacation may be enjoyed by those who love country life and
pleasant rambles. There is excellent boating at Sherbrooke, as well as
above and below it. Motor-boats have a fine nine-mile run to the ocean,
with numerous excursion points within easy reach of the mouth of the

The canoeing waters of Sherbrooke are excellent. A delightful holiday
may be spent by making headquarters in the village to explore the upper
waters of the river. There are pleasant settlements all along the course
up to its head waters. Being remote from regular travel routes, the
district is fresh and unspoiled; and those who enjoy absolute quiet,
unconventional life and a friendly welcome will be sure to feel at home
in Sherbrooke.

Country Harbour to the east, and Sheet Harbour, Port Dufferin and
Musquodoboit to the west are all pleasant little places.

[Illustration: Antigonish]

A railroad is to be built, along the south-east shore between Halifax
and Guysboro. When it is finished, the fine harbors and the rugged and
romantic places along the shore will be brought within easy reach of the
summer visitor. In the meantime such places are fairly accessible by
stage-coach from points on the Intercolonial Railway between
Shubenacadie and Heatherton or Antigonish; and they may also be reached
by steamboat from Halifax and Guysboro or Mulgrave.

[Illustration: Baddeck—Leaving for Sydney]

                          _Cape Breton Island_


Cape Breton Island, lying at the entrance to the Gulf of St. Lawrence,
has been termed the “front door” of Canada; a distinction that should
properly be shared with Newfoundland; for the naval power that holds
these Atlantic outposts could destroy or dominate the whole maritime
trade of the great river.

If the Norse voyagers discovered North America, and sailed into the Gulf
of St. Lawrence a thousand years ago, as many believe, they must have
passed by and seen Cape Breton; and, in all probability, they must have
been the first Europeans to land upon its shore.

The first name of the Island, Baccalaos, is held by some to indicate an
early visitation of the Portuguese, much earlier than Cabot’s time; for
Baccalaos is a Portuguese word meaning “cod fish,” and it is well known
that early European fishermen frequented these waters, and engaged in
the cod fishing. The Portuguese are believed to have made some attempt
to found a settlement at or near the present village of Ingonish. It is
not certain whether Cabot landed here on his voyage of discovery in the
year 1497; nor has it been established that Verazzano, the Florentine
navigator, landed at or near Cape Breton in the year 1524. It is not
even certain that Jacques Cartier landed on the island in any of his
three American voyages, although he is thought to have given the old
French name of Loreine to a cape at the northern end of the Island.

In the reign of Queen Elizabeth a British mariner is said to have
visited Cape Breton. His name was Richard Strong, and he came in his
little bark, the _Marigold_, of 70 tons. He is supposed to have landed
near where the town of Louisbourg now is. About this time fur-trading
commenced to attract European sailors, and by the close of Queen
Elizabeth’s reign fully two hundred English vessels were engaged in
bartering for furs, and fishing for cod and other fish in upper North
American waters.

Cape Breton received its present name from the Breton fishermen who
either “discovered” the Island, or, what is more likely, fished in its
waters. It is easy to understand that where they congregated to fish
might most readily be named the Bay or the Cape of the Bretons. During
the time that it was a French possession it was by them called L’Isle
Royale, but since 1758 it has been known by the name it now bears.

With the exception of some low lying and undeveloped places on the south
shore, the whole Island offers all that the summer visitor holds dear,
bold scenery and fine prospects, charming vale and river districts,
beautiful woods, romantic gorges, sparkling waterfalls, sunny skies,
delightful temperature, and invigorating air. The summers from May to
October are probably as enjoyable as those in the most favored part of
the world that may be chosen for comparison. For its northern and
eastern position there is remarkable immunity from fog. The southern end
is where fog may be seen when it prevails.

Only those that have gone over the whole ground can realize the wealth
of picturesque beauty and variety found in Eastern Quebec and the
Maritime Provinces of Canada, and this variety is again exemplified in
Cape Breton; for after passing from Quebec to New Brunswick, from New
Brunswick to Prince Edward Island, and thence to southern and eastern
Nova Scotia, and finding constant variety at almost every stage—here in
Cape Breton the contrast is still maintained. The growing popularity of
these provinces is perhaps only natural when their situation and
advantages are considered. They are rapidly becoming what nature
evidently intended they should be—international vacation grounds for the
people of the western hemisphere.

There are no fashionable resorts in Cape Breton. For the majority this
is perhaps one of its strongest recommendations. There are luxuries in a
few centres, and comforts in many more, with plain but substantial
living in most of the smaller places. The railroad mileage is not very
extensive, as yet, but it is supplemented by steamboat traffic along the
east, west and south coasts, and over the waters of the Bras d’Or Lake.
Carriages are used for reaching interior parts that are remote from rail
or steamboat routes. Because of this a systematic description following
the coast line, etc., is not advisable, and in place of it the plan is
followed of describing the accessible parts of the island from the chief
centres of railway, steamboat and carriage travel.


  1. Kennan Bungalow, Baddeck
  2. Webber Bungalow, Baddeck
  3. Boating at Wycocomagh
  4. In Sydney Harbor
  5. At the Wharf, Baddeck
  6. Marble Mountain Quarry

In some places, such as the Sydneys, Grand Narrows, etc., excellent
accommodation is found. In other resorts, such as Baddeck, Whycocomagh,
Louisbourg, St. Peter’s, Mabou and Ingonish, quite comfortable quarters
may be found. In the Margaree, Middle River and North River districts,
also, there are here and there little inns where very pleasant and
comfortable days may be spent.


Whether seen on foot, or from train, steamboat or carriage, there can be
no doubt that Cape Breton is one of the most enjoyable spots on earth.
Gushing springs, dancing rills, plashing brooks, cascading rivulets,
musical streams, murmuring rivers, everywhere. What a wealth of graceful
ferns; what gardens of wildflowers; what splendid trees and noble
forests; what tranquil vales; what majestic mountains! And the blue sea,
the crested waves, the milky foam, the fleecy clouds! Surely such scenes
as these were in Sir Walter Scott’s mind when he wrote his Highland

  Here eglantine embalmed the air,
  Hawthorn and hazel mingled there;
  The primrose pale, and violet flower,
  Found in each cliff a narrow bower;

                                * * * * *

  Aloft the ash and warrior oak
  Cast anchor in the rifted rock,
  And, higher yet, the pine-tree hung
  His shatter’d trunk, and frequent flung,
  Where seem’d the cliffs to meet on high,
  His boughs athwart the narrow’d sky.
  Highest of all, where white peaks glanced,
  Where glistening streamers waved and danced,
  The wanderer’s eye could barely view
  The summer heaven’s delicious blue;
  So wondrous wild, the whole might seem
  The scenery of a fairy dream.

The early settlement of Cape Breton was entirely French. At the time of
the expulsion of the Acadians from the peninsular part of Nova Scotia,
many took refuge in the then L’Isle Royale, or Cape Breton. The early
French, and the Acadians by whom they were afterwards joined, have
retained their old life in a remarkable degree. It is a delight to meet
them in modern up-to-date America. Scottish Highlanders, too, are in
Cape Breton in large numbers; and the virtues and customs of this rugged
and estimable people may be studied against the pleasant background of
mountain and flood, so like the home scenery of “Caledonia, stern and
wild.” Micmac Indians are here, too; but not in such great numbers as


First, following the line of the Intercolonial Railway from Point Tupper
by way of the Bras d’Or Lake to Sydney, the general appearance of the
country may be noticed.

The first view of the Island when approaching by the railway ferry is
quite impressive, although the peculiar features do not grow until the
interior is gradually reached. After passing McIntyre’s Lake there is
considerable up-grade to gain the height of the bold hills that are
capped in the distance by a still higher formation. The scene as the
height is gained is very striking, entirely distinct in character from
either the open, soft beauty of the Wentworth Valley, or the combination
of river, forest and mountain seen in the Matapedia district.

Here an immense valley lies in the very depths to the left. The tops of
the trees are far below, and, although we climb up and up, the great
trees still crowd the forest, with here and there a glistening stream
showing through the valley rifts. The woodland view is one of
unparalleled grandeur.

Descending, we skirt a huge mountain with tier after tier of woodland
stretching up into the heights; and here we dash out on an elevated
plateau to see a peaceful hamlet smiling in white and green in the
tranquil depths below.


River Denys is a pretty stream of modest proportions running at the foot
of, and almost shut in by tall trees that tower up majestically in all
the glory of height and symmetry. A peculiar and picturesque aspect is
given to the woodland by the tall and slender birches, like palm
trees—devoid of branch and leaf below, and having only a feathery,
outspreading growth at the top.

There is a pleasing water view at Orangedale, with a charming vista of
green shores stretching out to the lake. The first impression of the
Bras d’Or Lake is one of peaceful calm, as the evening sun crimsons the
broad and far-reaching expanse of water.

The Great Bras d’Or Lake is about 45 miles long and nearly 20 miles
wide. It is very deep in nearly every part of it, varying from 90 to 350
feet. In one place a depth of 1200 feet has been found, just a short
distance from the shore. Old maps and references give the name
“Labrador” for this beautiful lake. It may also be mentioned that
Nicholas Denys published a book in Paris in the latter half of the
seventeenth century in which he refers to the Bras d’Or Lake as “Le Lac
de Labrador.” The present name is undoubtedly founded on the old one. It
is almost identical in pronunciation, too; and as it has a meaning, “arm
of gold,” that describes the appearance of the lake at sunrise and
sunset, it has come into general use.

The Little Bras d’Or Lake, exclusive of channels, is about ten miles
long; its breadth nearly six miles. It has a depth of 700 feet in
places. Two peninsulas nearly meet at the Grand Narrows and thus almost
separate the Great from the Little Bras d’Or. The two lakes are called
the Bras d’Or Lakes; but because their waters communicate so that a
passage from one to the other may easily be made through the Grand
Narrows channel, the whole water system is now frequently called the
Bras d’Or Lake.

The Bras d’Or Lake is really an inland sea, or, more correctly, an arm
of the Atlantic Ocean. In the waters of the upper or smaller of the two
lakes is the long and narrow island, Boularderie, some 28 miles long,
and nearly three miles wide at its northern end, where it fronts on the
Atlantic. East and west of it are channels or inlets from the ocean.
That on the east, tide-swept and impassable for large boats, is the
Little Bras d’Or or St. Andrews channel. The wider channel on the west
side may be traversed by any vessel afloat, as it has a depth of from
thirty to two hundred feet. Both channels lead south through the Grand
Narrows into the larger of the two lakes, where at the southern end the
narrow isthmus has been cut, and where a canal with locks enables
vessels to pass in and out.

It has been said of the Bras d’Or that it is the most beautiful
salt-water lake ever seen. The substance of Warner’s comment is seen to
be true by all who visit these shores. “The water runs into lovely bays
and lagoons, having slender tongues of land and picturesque islands. It
has all the pleasantness of a fresh-water lake, with all the advantages
of a salt one.” There is practically no tide, the comparatively narrow
sea entrances acting to resist the flow of water out and in. The
difference in level is usually less than a foot.

[Illustration: Boularderie Island, Bras d’Or Lake]

One or more of the numerous cruises on these waters, described later,
should be taken, as well as the journey over the railway, now resumed.

The view of the lake as McKinnon’s Harbor is approached is beautiful.
The tree growth is larger, fantastic little islands dot the smooth
water, and the whole panorama of mainland, island and broad lake is
indeed magnificent. Nearing Iona the peculiar appearance of the
landscape whitened by the outcroppings of gypsum or plaster rock is very
noticeable. In many places the shore view of headland and water is very
similar to that on the Atlantic coast, except in the placidity of the
water. At Ottawa Brook a lovely view of island-dotted lake is seen
stretching out in a far-away and pleasing vista to the south. At a small
siding, nearby, a small meadow stream meanders fantastically through a
verdant plain that is dotted with haystacks, and has here and there
little bridges raised high above the general level to keep them secure
in the time of spring and flood—a time of utmost consequence to farmers
of intervale, for it brings rich deposits of alluvial mud to fertilize
the low-lying fields.


From Iona, and Grand Narrows on the opposite shore, the steamer
_Bluehill_ makes connections for Baddeck, and from Grand Narrows another
boat leaves for St. Peter’s and other points. At Iona station, by the
“narrows,” passengers may take the opportunity of alighting to see the
fine Intercolonial Railway bridge that spans the channel. It has a
“draw” near the Grand Narrows side to allow vessels to pass from upper
lake to lower, or the reverse. Grand Narrows attracts tourists to its
comfortable hotel on the water, as it makes a good centre for seeing the
surrounding country. It is also a place of call for the lake steamboats.
There are fine views to be had in the vicinity.

The run over the railway from Grand Narrows by Boisdale, Barachois and
George’s River to Sydney is a pleasant one along the eastern shore of
the upper lake; and it should be made both ways in order to see the
water after sunrise and at sunset—the two effects being quite different.
Journeying and looking out on the shore, at times a sandy crescent is
seen to run out into the lake and terminate in gentle mound, green sward
and comely tree-growth. Often there are small lakes, and frequently a
little chain of such; and at these places, with the boats of the
fishermen drawn up on the strand between the great lakes and the lakes
in miniature, the scene is novel and most striking.

Here are two sandy arms running out, and drawing together at their outer
ends—forming a harbor within a harbor—where a little flotilla of
brown-sailed fishing craft rides snugly, protected even from the windy
scud of a stormy day.

[Illustration: CAPE BRETON SCENES]

  1. Woodland Scene
  2. Brook Scene
  3. An Old Mill
  4. Farm Paddock
  5. Mira River
  6. Catch of Salmon, Margaree River
  7. River Denys
  8. Middle River
  9. St. Ann’s Bay

Over there a small headland of some forty feet in height has lost its
crown of brown rocks that lie in picturesque disorder at its base,
lapped by the gentle ripple of the tide, and mimicking the giant scenes
of the rugged Atlantic shore. Nor are bolder effects wanting, for
yonder, across the channel, a huge mountain rises proudly to the sky;
and it, too, has thrown part of its rocky cap down and far out into the
deeper tide.


No more beautiful view of mountain, blue water and gently-sloping wooded
shore can be seen than that between Barachois and Sydney River; and on a
morning when the bright sun has dissipated the early mists, and rides
resplendent in a sky dotted here and there with fleecy clouds, the
picture is truly superb.

The pleasing effect of the tree-dotted sand bars running out from the
shore—making lagoons whose tranquil silver surfaces, protected by tiny
headlands, show in delightful contrast with the deep blue of the more
ruffled outer waters—must be seen before an adequate conception of their
great beauty can be formed. There is a great difference between coast
scenery and that of what may be termed an inner coast shore, such as
that of the Bras d’Or Lake.

If the scenery of outer coast is striking and grand in its rugged
majesty, that of the calmer and more protected inner shore compels
admiration for its softer effects—no less striking in their tranquil
beauty—scenic miniatures in nature’s most exquisite setting.

The city of Sydney has become the centre of a district that is rapidly
increasing in population and commercial importance. It is the capital of
Cape Breton, and the great mining and manufacturing industries of the
Island centre altogether in this eastern district. It is the present
terminus of the Intercolonial Railway. It has an exceedingly fine
harbor. This harbor is divided into two arms, known as the ports of
Sydney and North Sydney, and the average depth of water is fifty feet.
The water area is very extensive, so much so that Sydney ranks as one of
the world’s great harbors. The north and south bars at the entrance act
as natural break-waters, and the inner waters are easy of access.


While it is generally known that the distance from Sydney to Liverpool
is much less than that from New York to the British port, it will come
as a great surprise to most when they learn how much closer Sydney is
than New York to points in South America and South Africa. For instance,
Pernambuco, at the most easterly projection of the South American
continent, is nearer to Sydney than New York by 24 miles. New Orleans,
an extreme southern port of the United States, is even more distant from
the South American point named by a stretch of over 575 miles; and,
strange as it may seem, the voyage to the Cape of Good Hope in South
Africa is very much shorter from Sydney than from United States ports.

Sydney River offers a broad and pleasant stream for boating. The country
by the lower part is flat, but becomes hilly and nicely wooded as the
upper waters are gained. For some distance inland there are excellent
runs for motor-boating, sailing, rowing and canoeing. Crawley’s Creek is
also a good boating place. There are many pleasant drives to the lakes
in the vicinity, as well as to many pretty inlets on the coast, and by
the inner waters of the harbor. There is an excellent view from Victoria
Park at the end of the peninsula. The district surrounding Sydney has a
number of pleasant features, and the city itself may be chosen as a
centre for excursions to Port Morien, the Mira River and Louisbourg.

North Sydney is the port from which the steamers of the
Reid-Newfoundland line leave for Port-aux-Basques, Newfoundland; and
from this port steamers may be taken for St. John’s, Newfoundland, as
well as to Hawkesbury, Halifax, Charlottetown, Montreal, Quebec, St.
Pierre and Miquelon. There is a good ferry service between here and
Sydney, local lines for points on the Bras d’Or Lakes, and, in addition,
there are steamers to northern points along the eastern shore of Cape

Those who visit here from the great manufacturing and mining centres of
the United States will, of course, be familiar with coal mining and
steel plants; but many others who come from other industrial centres
will find it both interesting and instructive to visit the works of the
Nova Scotia Steel and Coal Company and collieries, etc., in the
neighborhood. The various industries of this kind hereabouts will soon
rival the giant industries of Pennsylvania; and all interested in such
industries should spend some days in seeing the many novel sights they
offer. Those who have never seen a similar sight should by all means see
a cast made at the Dominion Steel Works. The coal industry is now an
immense one. In these days of coal at seven dollars a ton it seems
strange to read that at the time of the inglorious Quebec Expedition
under Admiral Walker, coal in quantities was taken from the Sydney
cliffs with iron crow-bars.

[Illustration: A Cape Breton Road]

The Marconi “Wireless” Station at Table Head, Glace Bay, with its four
towers, is sure to be an object of interest to all who go near this part
of the coast.

That giant fish the Albacore, or leaping-tuna, weighing from 500 to 800
pounds and over, is caught along the North Atlantic coast in certain
favored spots. At Lockeport and other places on the South Shore of Nova
Scotia they are caught in great trap nets. They are also caught off the
Cape Breton coast; and as the honor of catching the first of these
monstrous fish with rod and line not far from Sydney fell to the
well-known sportsman, Mr. Ross, of Montreal, a description from Patillo
of a hand-line expedition for albacore is here given.

“Stout cod-lines were used, 32 fathoms long. The hook was of steel,
three-eighths of an inch thick. It was eight inches wide, and had a
three-inch shank. A stiff, moderately low boat was used, and the lines
were attached to swivel reels to run them on and off. Herrings were
taken for bait. We started off and soon reached the fishing ground.
Presently one of the fishermen casting nets nearby called out to us,
‘Halloa, boys! here’s a fellow!’ meaning an albacore, followed by a
shout from another, and still another that they were about their boats;
so we slowly moved outside the range of the boats, throwing over a
herring every few yards to toll them along with us. When far enough away
we secured the reel to the boat athwart, for we were a bit afraid of the
fish we expected to grapple with. Then I threw over a herring to see if
there were any albacores near us, and to our delight a monster rushed
for it just under the surface, so I threw another loose herring, and
then one attached to the hook. He rushed for the first one, whirled and
took hold of the other, and we had hold of him. Then for a few minutes
we had a good imitation of the antics of a wild prairie horse when first
haltered. He jumped his full length out of the water, which gave us a
very vivid idea of the monster we were attached to; then he started at
an awful pace across the harbor. The line was running out swiftly, so
that we had to move as quickly to get it into the notch in the stern,
which we had wisely thought to make. Then I seized an oar and placed it
for steering, while we both got positions to trim the boat. We feared
something might break if the boat remained motionless; so to obviate
this my friend succeeded in grasping the line partially, and thereby
gradually started the boat, while I helped by sculling, so that by the
time it was all off the reel, she was moving faster than ever she did
before. The fish kept up the pace for at least ten minutes, towing us
directly into the harbor; then he made a jump, turned and took us
straight back to the fishing grounds. The men in fishing boats had been
watching us with great interest, not supposing for a moment they were to
have any part in it; but when they saw us going directly for them, the
shouting and hooting and swearing that suddenly started from them would
have been laughable to disinterested spectators. We could see plainly
that if he continued the course he was then taking us, nothing short of
a collision with one or more of the boats would follow.

“Pandemonium appeared about to reign. The boats were very near. We were
all greatly excited, for we realized there was danger of foundering. I
jumped with my knife to free the fish. In the rush my foot slipped, and
I went headlong on my mate, the knife flying overboard. Before anything
could be done to free the albacore, we ran into a boat with a heavy
crash, filling it with water, and upsetting most of their herring. The
sudden resistance caused the albacore to spring again, when, to save
ourselves from being spilled out, one of the men cut the line.

“Then the boats were baled out and work resumed. After the danger was
over we all roared with laughter, scream after scream.

“The freed albacore paraded all around the harbor that day, jumping out
of the water dozens of times with our line still attached to him.

“Seeing so many around, we decided to try for another. The fishermen,
however, hesitated about supplying us with bait, fearing a repetition of
the peril if we hooked another. After coaxing, we got what we wanted and
started off again, throwing herrings as we went. When we thought
ourselves well out we stopped to make ready for another strike.

“I stood up and threw out a herring. In a moment it was grabbed. Then
the baited hook went over, was seized in a trice, and once more we had a
fish. This second fellow was even more lively than the first, and his
rushing and jumping was something wonderful to witness. He began pulling
us off at once. To make his speed less we crossed our oars and held back
water, which acted like a drag. Suddenly like the other, he turned at
right angles and led us off in the new direction, fully ten minutes.
Then he headed for the boats—mischief in his eye. We were now threatened
with mishap worse than before, for the boats were by this time deeply
loaded. What was to be done? He made another leap at this juncture,
falling more clumsily than before. He was weakening! The men in the
boats were now gesticulating and yelling for us to set him free. But we
were growing hopeful as the speed of the boat grew perceptibly less.
Soon we were able to gather in line to within a few fathoms of him.
Within 150 yards of the boats he stopped short. We hauled up. What a
beauty! Ten feet long, and weighing over 600 pounds. Three cheers were
given as with a rope through his gills we towed him to the beach. We
gave him to the men whose herrings we had spilled. Surely a royal sport.
The equal of any fishing on the Pacific Coast.”

Port Morien is reached by the Sydney and Louisbourg Railway, a line
running east to the coast, and then south to Louisbourg. The little town
on the coast has a harbor, breakwater, excellent beach, and a
considerable fish industry. It also has valuable coal deposits.


The Mira River district, half-way down the coast towards Louisbourg,
abounds in picturesque views; and a journey over the beautiful river,
with its remarkable clear water, is a veritable treat. An old French
shipyard was once here, some remains of which are still visible; and the
hulls of many small craft may be seen below water. The course leads
through a ravine that is sheltered from the sun for most of the day, the
coves and small headlands of which give many pretty views. Pleasant
fishing streams and brooks empty themselves along the course of the Mira
River, and numerous evidences of the early French days are seen as the
upper waters are reached. Pleasant islands, also, vary the way, some of
them in picturesque clusters. A number of inviting-looking bays and
several villages are passed, and as Marion Bridge is gained the country
becomes more hilly and varied. Salmon River, which empties into the
Mira, is a favorite fishing stream, and, in addition, it offers many
beautiful views. Near the head of Mira River is Victoria Bridge, from
which pleasant drives may be taken to Gaberouse on the bay of that name,
to Framboise, and to Fourché, all quiet fishing villages remote from
travel highways, and on that account interesting to see.

When the Treaty of Utrecht gave France the right to hold and fortify
Cape Breton, the name of the Island became L’Isle Royale, and choice of
a place was soon made for the erection of a stronghold or fortress to
maintain possession of this commanding approach to her vast inland
territory. Havre a l’Anglois was the place selected, and its name was
changed to Louisbourg in honor of the French monarch of that time, Louis
XIV. The history of this interesting place was for many years the
history of the whole island.

Work on the fortifications of Louisbourg was commenced in the early part
of the eighteenth century. It continued for over twenty years, and the
whole defensive system was planned by Vauban, the great French engineer.
So strong was the place made that it became known as the Dunkirk of
America. Towards the middle of the century the population of Louisbourg
had increased to 4000, and it was rapidly becoming a place of great
importance. Islands in the harbor were strongly fortified to command the
water approach, while on the land the solid fortification walls, over
ten feet thick and more than thirty feet high, protected by a great
ditch with earthworks, glacis, bastions and citadel, all united to form
an almost impregnable position. The approaches could be swept by gun
fire from nearly 150 cannon.


It was not long before the British colonists of New England took alarm
at the construction of such formidable works in a place where they could
be used as a basis of operations against them; a plan for attacking the
fortress by volunteers from Massachusetts, Connecticut, Rhode Island and
New Hampshire was agreed upon, and a strong expedition left Nantasket
for Cape Breton waters.

From the very first, success attended the efforts of the Colonials; and
after many spirited attacks, the place, though ably defended by the
French, fell before the continued assault. This was in 1745. Three years
later Cape Breton and its great fortress of Louisbourg were given back
to France by the Treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle.

But there were to be other struggles between France and England for
supremacy in North American waters, and it was inevitable that
Louisbourg would again be attacked; and so in another ten years a
British fleet assembled in Gabarus Bay to the south of Louisbourg, and
another great struggle ensued. Boscawen, Amherst and Wolfe took part in
this assault; and the place was again ably defended by the French, this
time under the gallant de Drucour, who was able to direct the fire of
over two hundred cannon against the invaders—so much had the defenses
been strengthened. The formerly successful plans of the Colonials were
again followed, and, as before, success came to the invaders, and
Louisbourg fell with immense stores and munitions of war. A strong naval
station being in existence by this time in Halifax, it was decided to
totally destroy the fortifications of Louisbourg, and accordingly the
whole of the defenses were demolished by an engineer corps from England,
sent out for this purpose. Shortly before the opening of the American
War of Revolution, Britain’s conquest of all Upper Canada was confirmed
by treaty, and peaceful development of Cape Breton has since ensued.

Louisbourg, thus interesting historically, is conveniently reached from
Sydney by rail. It has a pleasant harbor, free from winter ice, and is a
fairly busy little shipping port. The site of the old fortress is at
Point Rochefort a few miles distant from the railway station; but from
first leaving the train, evidences of Louisbourg’s former greatness may
be seen, and relics are in main of the houses in the village. Cannon
balls are still found in the surrounding fields, and many of the houses
contain stone from the demolished walls of the fortress. The situations
of the bastions may still be traced, and some of the casemates used for
sheltering the women and children from gun fire during the attacks are
now used as shelters by flocks of sheep. That women can rise to any
height when emergency demands, is shown by the incident remembered of
Madame de Drucour, wife of the French Governor in the second siege, who
with her own hands fed the cannon with powder and balls.

[Illustration: Ruins of Fort Louisbourg]


No systematic exploration of the ruins has yet been attempted. The
graveyard, too, where French, English and Colonial dead lie in hundreds,
rests unmarked by stone of any kind. There is a general monument,
however, erected on the very spot where the keys of the fortress were
handed to General Pepperell when the fortress fell before Colonial arms.
It was erected by the Society of Colonial Wars, and bears the simple
inscription, ‘To Our Heroic Dead.’

Cod fishing was formerly carried on extensively from Louisbourg. Several
of the old-time inhabitants owned thirty or forty vessels each.

There are several small fishing settlements in the neighborhood to which
driving excursions may be made, and in summer time a pleasant sailing
trip may be taken to several villages on Gabarus Bay to the south.

Leaving the South Shore to be visited from its most convenient centre,
St. Peters, the town of Baddeck may next be chosen as a favorable place
from which to view the central districts of the Island, as well as those
lying along the upper east and west coasts. It will be remembered that
steamers leave Sydney for east coast points, and Mulgrave for places on
the west coast; and these trips are both enjoyable on fine summer days,
affording as they do pleasant views of many a quaint little harbor and
village. But for a thorough and intimate acquaintance with the beautiful
island scenery, driving trips and walks should be taken from Baddeck,
Whycocomagh and Mabou. Baddeck is easily reached from Sydney by
Intercolonial Railway to Grand Narrows or Iona, from which places the
steamer _Blue Hill_ connects with incoming trains. Baddeck may also be
reached by steamer from Sydney.

The town of Baddeck is a pleasant little centre from which to see much
of the surrounding country; in addition, it is in itself a homelike and
quiet resort where enjoyable days of rest may be spent, varied by drives
and walks, and the comings and goings of the several steamers that make
this a place of call. It is a fine place for boating and sailing, and it
is one of the centres that most tourists prefer, quiet and tranquil, but
not deserted, and where some social pleasures with other visitors may be
enjoyed. It is undoubtedly one of the best centres from which to see
characteristic Cape Breton scenery. The town is on a bay harbor of the
upper Bras d’Or Lake, about midway between the northern outlet to the
Atlantic and the southern reach that ends in Whycocomagh Bay, being
about twenty miles or more from each place.


There are some beautifully-placed bungalows along the shore, one of the
number belonging to George Kennan, where that _litterateur_ and
energetic traveller may be seen gardening in his moments of leisure.

On a beautiful estate of a thousand acres, not far from Baddeck, the
eminent scientist and inventor, Dr. Alexander Graham Bell, has his
summer home. Wherever the telephone has reached, Dr. Bell’s name is
known; and that is tantamount to saying he is one of the best-known men
of the world. Dr. Bell is the exemplar of the scientific inventor, the
type that builds on sound knowledge, rational induction and logical
experiment, building up patiently and through years of toil and diligent
application, step by step, a scientific edifice that would once have
been deemed a daring conception of an imaginative mind. More fortunate
than other inventors, who, like the alchemists of old, have toiled
without rest or intermission—and the fruits of whose labors have been
denied them—Dr. Bell has reaped the reward due to an honored member of
that profession which advances the progress of civilization by bounds of
a thousand years at a time; and here in Beinn Bhreagh, or “lovely
mountain,” he lives a life that is one of enjoyment—although not one of
ease in the sense that he “does nothing.”

The estate is one that may be termed a perfect heaven for the absorbed
worker in scientific, literary or other mental effort requiring
surroundings favorable for concentration of thought. Here with machine
and wood-working shops, electrical laboratory, erecting places and store
houses for aeroplanes, wharves, shelter houses and lake for testing
hydroplanes, the busy inventor works away a good part of the year when
not at his Washington home.


Dr. Bell also gives time to scientific stock-farming, and keeps
elaborate records of the excellent results that are gained from time to
time. He has a competent staff of workers, all housed in the midst of
ideal surroundings on his estate.

[Illustration: Professor Bell’s Estate, Beinn Bhreagh, C.B.]


The drives about Beinn Bhreagh are exceedingly lovely, and the
ever-changing water view is a continual source of delight. “Surprise
View,” well above the level of the lake, has been well-named, for in
following the winding woodland road a glorious panoramic scene of great
beauty suddenly springs into view as if by magic.

A fine observation tower crowns the heights over all. From it an
unsurpassed view may be had of ocean, lake, woodland crest, high
mountain and pastoral valley.

The natural beauties of the neighborhood are truly remarkable. Even the
farms on the western or greater channel, facing Boularderie, are
beautifully situated on the heights, with picturesque ravines and dells,
and lovely little brooks of crystal that flow along shady ways to the
lake far below.

The whole wide world possesses few nobler views than that seen from the
living rooms and porches of the Beinn Bhreagh home. It is an inspiring
prospect, beautiful each morning as the sun illumines the new continents
and mountain ranges of cloudland; and lovely by night when under the
glorious tranquility of the stars, the moon and her handmaidens, the
fleecy clouds, weave arabesques of unparalleled splendor.

  “White clouds, whose shadows haunt the deep.
  Light mists, whose soft embraces keep
  The sunshine on the hills asleep!

                                * * * * *

  O shapes and hues, dim beckoning through
  Yon mountain gaps, my longing view
  Beyond the purple and the blue.

                                * * * * *

  I read each misty mountain sign,
  I know the voice of wave and pine,
  And I am yours, and ye are mine.

                                * * * * *

  Life’s burdens fall, its discords cease,
  I lapse into the glad release
  Of nature’s own exceeding peace.”

A favorite drive is that from Baddeck to the upper waters of the Baddeck
River, and also by way of St. Ann’s to the North River. It was at St.
Ann’s that Nicholas Denys had one of his fortified posts in early days.
The river scenery is everywhere charming, with pretty brooks, green
woodland, banks of ferns, and clustering patches of wild flowers. At St.
Ann’s and North River the water views are very choice, and the drive is
a constant succession of delights. There is a grand side to the scenery
of this district, for the mighty hills have been riven asunder in many
places, and romantic gorges are seen from numerous places on the way.
Indian Brook, with precipitous banks, and rocky waterfall, is a
delightful scene.

The little places on the coast road to Ingonish are far remote from
travel routes, and they are full of interest. The scenes are extremely
bold and striking, and by some are thought to resemble the features of
Norway. Cap Enfumé, commonly called “Old Smoky” on account of its almost
perpetual cap of mist, is a bold object in the view, for it towers up
almost perpendicularly for some twelve hundred feet. This cape has been
termed one of the eastern bulwarks of North America, where the mighty
deep lashed into fury by the eastern tempests, thunders in vain against
this eternal rampart.


One of the finest panoramic views, and innumerable others at close
range, may be seen at and around Ingonish. Mountains, islands, beautiful
bays, nestling villages and glorious air are here. Walks and excursions
on foot and by boat may be had in many directions, and the beauties of
the place need fear comparison with no other district. The descent on
the other side is believed to be one of the sights of the Maritime
Provinces. The village on the broad beach, the three harbors of
Ingonish, the picturesque lighthouse, beautiful Ingonish Island, with
its Sentinel Rock, and the far away Cape North range of mountains, make
a picture of superb beauty. Franey’s Chimney itself is no inconspicuous
object, being nearly 1400 feet high. A French cruiser once went ashore
not far from Money Point, and active tides were wont to throw up gold
coins from the wreck on to the strand. For some years people used to go
gold fishing, with long poles having the ends daubed with pitch to which
the coins adhered. Ingonish was known in French days as Inganische, and
relics of those days may still be found. There is excellent bathing at
Ingonish and it is a splendid place for a summer vacation of a restful
kind. Neil’s Harbor, Aspy Bay and Cape North are usually reached by
steamer, and inland from these places will be found unexplored land
where caribou and bear are still found. This whole area, including Bay
St. Lawrence, is beautiful, and destined to become more and more
frequented as hotels are built and roads and other facilities are
improved; and in due time a railway will doubtless skirt the coast.


Out in the Atlantic in the direction of Newfoundland, about 15 miles
north-east of Cape North, is the rocky island of St. Paul’s. It is right
in the highway of ocean travel to and from the Gulf of St. Lawrence.
Many wrecks have happened here, with the loss of thousands of lives. A
hundred years ago as seamen approached the Island, they used to keep a
look-out for the sight of the immense flocks of sea-fowl known as the
great auk. These birds, now extinct, used to keep inshore; and never
ventured out to sea. They were thus a sure indication of the proximity
of land. They were so innocent that sailors could draw near and capture
them by the boat-load. They were about as large as a goose, with short
wings, coal black head and back, white beneath, and a milk-white spot
under the right eye. Of negligible value in those days, a stuffed
specimen of the great auk to-day is worth fifteen hundred dollars. The
island has now lost most of its dangers, for the sailor of to-day sees
the bright flashes from the lighthouse when nearly twenty miles out at
sea, while in thick weather he is warned by the fog-gun. A splendid
series of drives may be taken from Baddeck, by way of Hunter’s Mountain,
and through the Wagamatcook or Middle River district, by Lake O’Law, to
Margaree Forks and Margaree Harbor on the west coast. No scenery can
charm more than this—it is delightful. The Middle River waters are
exceedingly pretty, the valley is a beautiful one, and the pastoral
scenes are as fresh and enjoyable as can be. There is a comfortable and
homelike hostelry in this district. The Margaree River, a splendid
salmon stream, is full of romantic interest, for it affords a constant
succession of charming views, and here, too, everything is fresh and
smiling. None may pass through such spots without enjoying to the full
that feeling of exhilaration that accompanies the sight of such a wealth
of all that is beautiful in nature.

[Illustration: Whycocomagh]

The drive may be prolonged to Cheticamp, by putting up overnight at
places between Baddeck, Middle River, Margaree, etc. It is an Acadian
fishing village, the inhabitants of which have lived their simple lives
for more than two centuries undisturbed by all that goes on in the outer
world. The interior country is beautiful, and is much diversified by
streams of the clearest water. This, too, although remote, is a favorite
spot for the nature-lover who would see the quiet life of the people in
such far-away settlements. There is much that is picturesque in the
region of the hilly Cheticamp valley, and it is a district that will
also be opened up in due time on account of the gold and other minerals
that have been found there.

The return to Baddeck may be made by way of Inverness, Strathlorne, Lake
Ainslie, Mabou and Port Hood, in which event it is not much out of the
way to include Whycocomagh in the circuit. Or the journey may
temporarily end at Whycocomagh, and that place be chosen as a centre
from which to see the surrounding country, without the necessity of
returning to Baddeck. As there is a steamer from Baddeck to Whycocomagh,
and as it is a very enjoyable trip, made pleasant by the fine scenery on
the way, many may prefer to see the east coast and central districts
from Baddeck, and then view the west coast, middle-west and south-west
districts from Whycocomagh.

The scenery in and around Whycocomagh is very beautiful, and its
picturesque bay has been called the “Naples of America.” The country
round about is most varied, and from the top of Salt Mountain a splendid
view is commanded; nor is it necessary to climb that height unless so
disposed, for the scenery by the shores of the bay is exceedingly fine.
Whycocomagh is an ideal centre for boating and canoeing, and here, as at
Baddeck, splendid opportunities exist for enjoyable cruises by
motor-boat. There is bathing also, and fishing; and many pleasant days
may be spent at this peaceful little resort.

[Illustration: A Picnic Party]

Port Hood, Mabou and Lake Ainslie are all within convenient reach by
carriage. Port Hood has coal mines, a safe harbor, and is the centre of
a good farming district. Mabou is one of Cape Breton’s most
characteristic little places, and the scenery all through this
neighborhood is charming. The town itself is very quaint and enjoyable,
while the river and woodland walks and drives are all excellent. There
is a very comfortable little hotel here, and a restful vacation may well
be spent in this pleasant place as a centre for a series of quiet
excursions in quest of nature’s beauties. The Trout River and Lake
Ainslie are also good objectives for drives and rambles, for the scenery
in this region is full of charm.

Returning to Whycocomagh, and taking the steamer to Baddeck, and through
the Bras d’Or Lake to St. Peter’s Canal at its southern outlet, a stay
may be made in quiet St. Peter’s, the Port Toulouse of olden days, to
enjoy its calm and tranquil summer life. This place was formerly known
as Port Toulouse and was one of the fortified trading stations founded
by N. Denys. It may be well to note here that several places on this
coast, though still retaining their French names, are now exclusively
peopled by the Scotch. While the scenery of the south coast districts
does not compare with that of other parts of the island, the
neighborhood of St. Peter’s is a thoroughly pleasant one. From here
excursions may be made to the beautiful island-studded body of water
known as Loch Lomond, to L’Ardoise and also to Arichat, Petit de Grat,
and D’Escousse, on the island known as Isle Madame. Here the visitor
will find himself in another world—the Acadian world of long ago; and
the quaint life so different from that of a few hundred miles south
cannot fail to make a lasting impression on the minds of all that
sojourn for a while in these remote little outposts.


The return to Point Tupper and Mulgrave may be made either by rail or

There are splendid fishing rivers in Cape Breton, and fine trout streams
are everywhere. Hunting, and shooting of wild birds, in season is
excellent, too. Particulars relating to all Cape Breton outdoor sports
will be found in the Chapter “Where to Go.”

[Illustration: Tuna Fishing, St. Ann’s Bay, C.B.]

                    _Where to Go—Recommended Places_


The choice of a vacation place suited to individual requirements is a
matter of considerable importance, and for those planning to visit a
country that is new to them, a brief description of the merits of
various places will be very helpful. The amusements and recreations of
each district are here given concisely. A preliminary study of this
chapter will enable visitors to make intelligent choice of a locality
best suited to their needs; and full particulars of any place under
consideration may be read in the detailed description of the district
finally chosen.

There are, of course, hundreds of delightful spots where happy vacations
may be spent if the visitor has no preference for any particular
recreation. As is well known, however, some prefer the shore, while
others like the interior life by woodland and stream. Others again are
happiest when in or near some fairly busy town centre, where some
luxuries and a social life may be enjoyed. There are others who prefer
the simple and inexpensive life of the quiet little village resort, and
others yet who like the life of a fashionable watering place. Then those
who delight in yachting, boating, canoeing, and all the pleasures of
outdoor life, as well as fishing, etc., have their preferences; and the
object of this chapter is to afford a ready choice from those places
exactly suited to particular requirements.

After the visitor has become familiar with the attractions of the
neighborhood selected, by actual residence there, he will be able to
explore in every direction; and in this way many a charming place will
be discovered that has in it the something for which he has always
longed—the life, the atmosphere so difficult to describe and which
appeal direct to the heart in some unexplained way.

It is so well understood that visitors come to the Maritime Provinces
for summer pleasures—and not to make a display of dress as at Atlantic
City and similar resorts—that all who wish to do so may wear plain and
sensible attire, and be as unconventional as they please. Of course in a
few centres, such as Quebec, Murray Bay, etc., fashionable costumes are
in evidence; but even in these places plain and sensible costumes do not
call for remark; and while it is not necessary to avoid the best hotels
where richer people congregate, there are always other comfortable
hotels and stopping-places where people of moderate means may live more
quietly and be just as happy.

Those who make a short stay in any one place will have little time for
social life; but, after the day’s pleasure is over, pleasant social
intercourse may be enjoyed—in all but the smallest places—with those who
are sojourning in the same locality. In the larger centres social life
is quite an enjoyable feature of the summer vacation, and here, too,
visitors mingle on the porches, etc. at night, and pass many pleasant
hours in discussing the scenery and other features of the district. If
making a stay of weeks or months at any one place, it is a good plan to
have introductions to some of its leading people, as in this way many
delightful hours will be spent in pleasant society. Canadian people are
very hospitable, as a rule, and in many places of small and medium size,
visitors will frequently be asked to participate in tennis, boating and
driving, etc., as soon as they have settled down in summer quarters. In
all places of any pretensions as summer resorts, golf, tennis, bathing,
etc., are provided by the management of the principal stopping-places,
and in such resorts the visitor enjoys such recreation without having to
await an invitation from residents—as must necessarily be the case in
small places where no public facilities of the kind are provided.

Where an asterisk * is inserted before the name of a place or district,
under any heading such as “Historic Interest,” “Summer Vacation Life,”
“Yachting,” “Canoeing,” etc., it denotes a place of commanding
excellence for the enjoyment of that particular interest.

_Places of Historic Interest_:

  *Quebec, Tadousac, St. John, Halifax, Annapolis Valley, Annapolis
  Royal, Louisbourg.

_Places that are Centres for the Enjoyment of Beautiful Scenery_:

  *Quebec, *Murray Bay (via Riviere Ouelle), *Tadousac (via Riviere du
  Loup), Bic, Metis, *Causapscal, *Matapedia, Bathurst, Newcastle,
  Chatham, *Fredericton, *St. John, Montague River (P.E.I.), *Truro,
  *Wentworth Valley, *Halifax, *Chester, *Baddeck, St. Ann’s, *Ingonish,
  Mabou, *Whycocomagh.

_Places that are Centres for Romantic and Interesting Country_:

  All of those in the preceding division, and Riviere du Loup,
  Campbellton, Dalhousie, *Charlo, Shelburne, Antigonish, Guysboro,
  Sydney, Middle River, *Margaree River, Cheticamp.

_Watering Places that are well frequented and where some life is going
on, suited for those who like a little gaiety_:

  *Murray Bay, *Tadousac. (For those who like life in cities, *Quebec,
  *St. John and *Halifax may be here included.)

_Watering Places of smaller size, where the usual quiet life of the
small resort may be enjoyed_:

  Riviere du Loup (Fraserville), Cacouna, Kamouraska, Bic, Rimouski,
  *Little Metis, Dalhousie, *Charlo, Jacquet River, Bathurst, Newcastle,
  Chatham, *Rothesay, *Fredericton, *Charlottetown, Summerside,
  *Chester, Antigonish, *Baddeck, Grand Narrows, *Ingonish, Montmorency.

_Watering Places of the smallest size, where very quiet days may be

  *Causapscal, Folleigh, Pugwash, Pictou, Shediac, Tignish, Alberton,
  Tracadie, Souris, *Montague, Georgetown, Murray Harbor, St. Peters,
  Cheticamp, *Middle River, *Margaree Forks, *Mabou, *Chateau Richer.

_Small Places in which, although water is near, country features

  Montmagny, *Causapscal, *Jacquet River, *Folleigh, *Hampton, *Sussex,
  Petitcodiac, Boiestown, Doaktown, Blackville, Hunter River,


Yachting waters of most enjoyable character are found at Quebec and all
St. Lawrence River resorts; and at *Campbellton, *Dalhousie, *Bathurst
and other Bay of Chaleur points, including several places on the Gaspé
peninsula; *Newcastle and *Chatham, on Miramichi Bay; *St. John and on
the Lower St. John River; Charlottetown, Summerside, Murray Harbor,
Georgetown and Souris on Prince Edward Island; Pugwash, Pictou and
Mulgrave, in Northern Nova Scotia; *Halifax, St. Margaret’s Bay,
*Chester and *Shelburne, on the South Shore; Guysboro and other harbors
on the south-eastern shore; and on *Bras d’Or Lakes, *Baddeck,
*Whycocomagh, *Sydney, St. Ann’s Bay and several harbors of the Cape
Breton coast.


Motor-boating may always be enjoyed where good yachting waters are
found, and hence all the places just enumerated as most suitable for
yachting are also well adapted for motor-boating. The motor-boat being
independent of the wind has an increased range of action, and on that
account additional places are now named from which cruises may be made
as a centre. As motor-boats are also able to move in more restricted
water than the wind-propelled yacht, additional river places having
pleasant cruising waters are here added, such as the *Saguenay,
*Miramichi, *Fredericton, Kennebecasis River, the lower waters of the
larger Prince Edward Island rivers, Mira River, Canso Strait, the
splendid harbors and rivers east of Halifax, Minas Basin and on the
waters of several of the large interior lakes accessible from or
contiguous to convenient towns of fair size.

Quiet waters for pleasant boating amidst enjoyable surroundings will be
found at every one of the numerous St. Lawrence River resorts from
Quebec to Matane, on all of the fine rivers in the four provinces, in
the Bay of Chaleur from *Matapedia, *Campbellton and *Dalhousie along
the south shore of the Gaspé Peninsula as far as *Gaspé Bay, along the
southern and eastern shores of Chaleur, along the whole interesting
water front of the Northumberland Straits, and along the Bay of Fundy
shore. As a matter of fact, good rowing waters are found within
convenient reach of nearly every station on the Intercolonial Route, and
all the places named in connection with yachting and motor-boating will
be found to have suitable boating waters nearby.

One of the most enjoyable and healthful recreations is that of canoeing;
and, as is well known, the canoeing waters of Quebec and the Maritime
Provinces are without a rival in any part of the world. A whole lifetime
of summers may be spent on these beautiful waters without exhausting the
novelty and interest of scene that everywhere abounds. Every river of
the four provinces has its canoeing attractions; and for a vacation of
perfect delight no better plan can be followed than that of shipping a
canoe over the Intercolonial Railway to the chosen centre of operations,
and from there explore the district, to become acquainted with all its
beauty and charm. All along the St. Lawrence River, and in its numerous
tributaries, splendid canoeing waters are found. The great *St. John
River, with its sparkling tributaries flowing through unfrequented
woodland depths, is a superb highway full of romantic interest. The
*Miramichi, *Nepisiguit, *Matapedia, *Tobique, *Restigouche,
*Temiscouata and a host of other rivers in Nova Scotia (including Cape
Breton) and Prince Edward Island give such a wealth of delightful
canoeing waters that a choice is almost embarrassing. Nor must the
smaller streams be passed by without notice, for in these also are found
the wooded islands, murmuring rapids and sylvan retreats dear to the
hearts of those who “paddle their own canoe.” There are hundreds of such
places in the Maritime Provinces, and consequently a study of this book
as a whole is recommended in order to make intelligent choice of that
locality best suited to the tastes of the individual canoeist.


Tennis courts will be found in nearly all places larger than the small
village of a few hundred inhabitants. In any place frequented by summer
visitors the Tennis Clubs make provision for summer membership of
visitors on payment of a small fee. In many places where no regular club
has been established the privileges of the court are extended to
visitors. In all of the summer resorts of the lower St. Lawrence
excellent tennis facilities are provided, and this is true of the
resorts of the provinces generally. In the small and restful
stopping-places not yet known as resorts, but to which some summer
visitors find their way, tennis courts are generally found—so universal
has this healthful outdoor recreation become. It should not be forgotten
that all through the Maritime Provinces the summer climate is so
temperate that full enjoyment of tennis and outdoor sports brings with
it none of the enervating fatigue inseparable from such recreation in
warmer climes.

Golf links are not as commonly found as tennis courts, but nearly all
summer hotels and resorts, other than the smallest, have made provision
for the enjoyment of this exhilarating game. Some of the courses in the
Maritime Provinces are the finest to be found anywhere; and there the
game may be enjoyed with all the accompaniment of beautiful scenery,
bracing air and romantic surroundings. Eastern Canada is the land of
summer sports, where generous physical exercise may be taken without
lassitude or undue fatigue; and in a game such as golf, where much
ground must be covered, a cool climate greatly enhances the enjoyment of
outdoor exercise.


The bathing waters of the provinces offer various temperatures to suit
different classes of bathers. Leaving out of consideration river and
lake bathing, the sea-bathing waters will be found to offer a
considerable range of temperature. The inner waters of the *Bay of
Chaleur, and the various places along the *Gaspé Peninsula, along the
Northumberland Strait shore, and those of *Prince Edward Island
generally, will be found best suited to the average bather. Many go to
the St. Lawrence River resorts between Murray Bay and Little Métis
because there the water is warmest. This is not river bathing as some
might suppose, for even at Murray Bay resorts one bathes in the briny
water of old ocean. As the St. Lawrence River reaches the Gulf it
broadens to ocean proportions, and at *Little Métis and *Matane, and
along the Gaspé shores, bathing in pleasantly-warmed sea water may be
enjoyed. Prince Edward Island enjoys a reputation for pleasant bathing
at a moderate temperature, but as the outer waters near Cape Breton are
reached, an increasing coolness is noticeable, until the outer Atlantic
shore is gained, and here, of course, the tidal water is the coldest,
and best suited for those of robust physique. West and east of Halifax,
however, there are numerous inner waters of lagoon or almost land-locked
character, and many outer bay waters, too, where the sun warms the sand
shoals at low tide, and where, consequently, warmer bathing may be
enjoyed than that found on the open or outlying beaches.


[Illustration: Restful Days]

The fishing waters of Eastern Canada are renowned all the world over.
Who has not heard of the *Restigouche, *Miramichi, *St. John,
*Nepisiguit, *Matapedia, *Tobique, *Upsalquitch, *Patapedia, *Godbout,
*Bonaventure, *Cascapedia, *Margaree, and all that immense host of other
rivers of various sizes that so liberally water the Maritime Provinces,
and afford fishing sport of the best kind for those who love to catch
the kingly salmon and princely trout.


The power of wealth is felt in the angling world, just as in other
departments of life, and hence the most of the best fishing rights have
been bought up by wealthy men and reserved for their own use and that of
their friends and summer guests. But there are many places where the
best of fishing may be had by previous arrangement, and other places,
such as the *Charlo River in New Brunswick, where royal fishing may be
enjoyed without permit other than the usual fishing license. The best
plan is to read through “Summer Provinces by the Sea” so as to become
acquainted with the country as a whole, and, after a district has been
chosen, a letter of inquiry to the nearest Intercolonial Station Agent
will elicit the latest and most accurate information on the fishing of
the neighborhood. The “Fishing and Hunting” booklet issued by the
Intercolonial Railway contains much valuable information relating to the
fishing streams of the four provinces. This booklet will be forwarded
from the offices of the Intercolonial Railway, Moncton, N.B., on

The joy of pitching a tent, and of living next to nature on the shore of
the deep Atlantic, is a fascination that must lure increasing thousands
from the crowded and stifling cities; and for those who desire more of
the comforts of civilization, with a life as near nature as possible,
there are bungalows by lake, river and sea where deep draughts of cool
and invigorating air may be enjoyed on porches, or in living rooms that
may be thrown open at will to admit every health-giving breeze that


[Illustration: A Country Drive]

All of the places mentioned in the chapter “Summer Resorts of the Lower
St. Lawrence,” and many places in their neighborhood, are suitable for
bungalow and tent life, and well adapted for those who prefer the more
quiet and inner sea waters; and many charmingly-placed summer homes will
be found all through this attractive district, at *Murray Bay, *St.
Irénée, Rivière du Loup, *Cacouna, *Bic, and Little Métis, etc. In New
Brunswick, on the banks of the St. John and other rivers, on the Gulf of
St. Lawrence and Bay of Fundy shores, and in the interior woodland by
lake and waterfall are many finely-placed summer cottages and vacation
homes that are half-shack, half-tent, and where a glorious outing may be
enjoyed at only a nominal cost. Nova Scotia and Prince Edward Island
both provide ample variety for this kind of life, while the eastern
extremity of Nova Scotia, the Island of Cape Breton, offers a wealth of
beautifully situated and romantic sites for summer tent and bungalow
that cannot be surpassed in any country of the world.

For driving and country rambles, woodland walks, botanizing, gathering
ferns and wild flowers, observation of the habits of birds and animals,
and for the student of nature, the artist, the nature-lover and all who
appreciate the profound thought and concentration promoted by the quiet
and tranquility of woodland, forest and secluded country lane, the
Maritime Provinces offer all that is beautiful in nature, combined with
cool days and glorious nights. Who that walks about by day, in such a
climate, can help feeling the buoyancy of spirit and feeling as of
walking on air; and who that rambles by river, lake or shore at night
but realizes that here he is indeed under the stars. The perfume of the
flowers, the song of the birds, the wind whispering through the trees,
and the far-away echo of the surf on the moonlit strand, all bring joy
to the heart; and as we take our way by a forest of noble birch trees,
the mysterious and thrilling sounds that come from its depths seem like
an invitation to enter and tarry awhile—to “adore, and be still”—to
spend an hour of quiet contemplation in yonder glade, where the moon’s
soft light clothes every graceful, bending flower in a robe of gleaming
splendor. The districts around *Quebec are particularly interesting to
the nature-lover, while the *Bay of Chaleur, Prince Edward Island, the
*Wentworth, *Matapedia, *Miramichi and *Nashwaak Valleys, the Upper and
Lower *St. John River districts, and all the bye-places of Nova Scotia,
and particularly of the *Cape Breton district, are full of interest for
drives, rambles, etc., in the enjoyment of nature.

Many who enjoy country life will find their way to Quebec, St. John,
Charlottetown, Halifax, and Sydney, etc., and from these places will
afterwards pass on to some quiet spot where the simple life may be
enjoyed on a farm at very small expense, and from which stopping-place,
as a centre, drives and rambles may be taken in every direction.


The route of the Intercolonial Railway is through a country that is rich
in game; indeed the Maritime Provinces are the chief hunting grounds of
North America. Moose and deer are still abundant, and in parts of
Quebec, New Brunswick and Nova Scotia there are districts not difficult
of access where bears may be shot. The upper part of Cape Breton Island
is excellent for large game. From any of the principal centres in
Quebec, New Brunswick and Nova Scotia hunting parties may be equipped,
and guides obtained, in the proper season. Like the fishing places of
the Maritime Provinces, the hunting localities are so numerous that it
would be impossible to do justice to them in this book of general
description. A special booklet, “Fishing and Hunting,” will be forwarded
from the offices of the Intercolonial Railway, Moncton, N.B., on


Wild fowl, small game and shore birds are found in almost every part of
the Maritime Provinces. The *Bay of Chaleur, *Prince Edward Island, and
the shore along the *Straits of Northumberland all have numerous places
where good shooting may be had in season. The interior rivers and many
of the coast streams also afford fine shooting; and it is almost
impossible to find a locality in which small game of some kind is not
abundant. Particulars relating to small game and wild fowl districts
will be found in the hunting pamphlet to which reference has just been

Automobile traffic is becoming world-wide, and with the attention that
is now given to road improvement in nearly all parts of Canada, the
highways of Quebec and the Maritime Provinces have not been overlooked.
In Prince Edward Island the use of automobiles is prohibited, but in
Quebec, New Brunswick and Nova Scotia there is a splendid choice of
interesting tours. Particulars of these in detail may be obtained from
the road maps published in New York; and the Automobile Clubs of Quebec,
St. John and Halifax, etc., are always glad to give specific information
relating to their province.

To enjoy intimate views of woodland, stream, lake and waterfall, it is
often necessary to leave the main roads or highways. Inner glades,
breezy heights, forest depths, the rocky bed of some foaming cascade, or
the winding course of a plashing brook, bordered by wildflowers, must
all be sought on foot.


In all districts that are rich in such beauties it is best to tarry at
the nearest hostelry and enjoy the country by rambling about on foot. If
such excursions are supplemented by trips in canoe, row-boat, sail-boat,
and motor-boat of ordinary speed, an intelligent view of the country,
its people, and its great resources of natural beauty will then be
possible—a view that would not be within the reach of those who limit
the field of observation to what may be seen from the seat of a speeding




  Abitation (1) de Kebec                                      34, 45
  Aboriginal Tribes                                                6
  Abram’s Village                                                204
  Acadia                                           13, 177, 204, 232
  Acadia, Heroine of                                    13, 177, 178
  Acadian Expulsion                                 5, 204, 232, 274
  Acadian French                               17, 21, 156, 239, 275
  Acadian Settlements          22, 133, 139, 201, 204, 223, 224, 256
  Acadian Story                                                  210
  Acadian Relics                                       218, 233, 239
  Acadian Villages                                 80, 229, 295, 297
  Adam’s Lake                                                    182
  Advocate Harbor                                                233
  Albert                                                         195
  Alberton                                         17, 205, 208, 209
  Algonquin Indians                                          34, 187
  Alma                                                           195
  Alpine Scenery                                  10, 57, 59, 75, 96
  American’s Prisoner’s Escape                                    44
  Amqui                                                          105
  Amherst                                                        232
  Annapolis Basin                                                231
  Annapolis Royal                                                 21
  Annapolis Valley                                      21, 244, 258
  Anse a l’Eau                                                    84
  Anticosti                                                       68
  Antigonish                                           260, 264, 265
  Antigonish Mountains                                           265
  Apohaqui                                                  192, 195
  Apple River                                                    233
  Arctic Current                                                  20
  Arichat                                                    24, 297
  Arisaig                                                        265
  “Arm of Gold,” The                                              24
  Arnold                                                          40
  Ashuapmouchouan                                                 89
  Asiatic Continent                                                8
  Aspy Bay                                                       293
  Assametquaghan                                                 107
  Atlantic Provinces                                              22
  Atlantic Seaboard                           69, 231, 244, 246, 265
  Aulac River                                                    232
  Aurora Borealis                                                 85
  Aylmer, Lord                                                   123

  Baccalaos                                                      271
  Back to the Farm                                               209
  Baddeck                                     24, 272, 278, 282, 295
  Baddeck River                                                  292
  Baie St. Paul                                               68, 70
  Bake Oven                                                       59
  Bald Head                                                      111
  Barnaby River                                                  200
  Barachois                                                 278, 280
  Bartholomew River                                              145
  Bartholomy                                                       9
  Basque Fishermen                                                 7
  Basque Peasants                                                 29
  Bathing  59, 78, 101, 134, 157, 178, 182, 192, 200, 205, 255, 256,
                                                  260, 262, 293, 295
  Bathurst                                             113, 138, 140
  Battle of Montmorency                                           37
  Battle of Ste. Foye                                             46
  Battle of the Plains                                        40, 44
  Bay of Chaleur          13, 105, 112, 120, 121, 133, 138, 139, 185
  Bay of St. Lawrence                                            293
  Bear                                                           293
  Bears, Anecdotes of                              31, 114, 116, 214
  Beauport                                                    38, 54
  Beauport, Lake                                                  47
  Beaupré                                                         10
  Beau Rivage                                                    106
  Bedeque Bay                                                    205
  Bedford                                                        255
  Bedford Basin                                        244, 255, 256
  Beinn Bhreagh                                        289, 290, 291
  Belange                                                          9
  Belvedere                                                      216
  Bellevue                                                       255
  Bic                                                         69, 76
  Bigot and Caroline, Story of                                    48
  Blackville                                                     144
  Blue Mountains                                                 111
  Boar’s Head                                                    193
  Boating     66, 71, 75, 78, 85, 101, 122, 135, 146, 157, 171, 178,
              182, 192, 195, 200, 216, 218, 226, 232, 233, 255, 256,
                                             260, 261, 266, 281, 288
  Boiestown                                                      145
  Boisdale                                                       278
  Bonaventure Island                                             126
  Bonaventure River                                              132
  Bonshaw                                                        216
  Boularderie                                                    276
  Boylston                                                       266
  Brackley Point                                                 215
  Bras d’Or Lake                         24, 231, 275, 276, 288, 296
  Bradalbane                                                     212
  Bretagne                                                   17, 204
  Bride’s Corner                                                 176
  Bride’s Mecca                                                  101
  Brudenell                                                      224
  Buctouche                                                      200
  Buctouche River                                                200
  Bungalow Life                    137, 174, 176, 192, 237, 261, 289

  Cabot                                       5, 6, 15, 30, 203, 271
  Cacouna                                                     80, 94
  Cain’s River                                                   145
  Call of Nature, The                                            235
  Calling the Ferry                                              152
  Camp Bedford                                                   176
  Campbellton                                111, 117, 121, 129, 133
  Camping Out                           133, 157, 219, 221, 222, 256
  Campobello                                                     184
  Canaan River                                              142, 200
  Canadian Government Railways                               24, 206
  Canadian Mediterranean                                           8
  Canine Intelligence                                            214
  Canoeing     66, 129, 133, 142, 145, 157, 171, 182, 192, 205, 218,
                                                       255, 264, 281
  Canoe Trip                                                     146
  Cap à l’Aigle                                       10, 71, 73, 78
  Cap au Corbeau                                                  70
  Cap au Diable                                                  129
  Cap d’Or                                                       233
  Cape Blomidon                                                  233
  Cape Breton              7, 18, 22, 24, 37, 69, 231, 265, 271, 286
  Cape Breton Forests                                             24
  Cape Breton Railway                                             25
  Cape Despair                                                   128
  Cape Eternity                                                   88
  Cap Enfumé                                                 24, 292
  Cape North                                                     293
  Cape Trinity                                                    88
  Cap St. Ignace                                                  69
  Caraquet                                                       139
  Cardigan Bay                                                   224
  Cardigan River                                                 224
  Caribou                                                    14, 293
  Caribou Plains                                                 233
  Carleton                                              45, 121, 133
  Carleton Bay                                                   133
  Carleton Heights                                               180
  Cascapedia                                                     131
  Cartier, Jacques    5, 6, 10, 30, 32, 47, 52, 61, 70, 87, 97, 120,
                                                  122, 143, 203, 271
  Cascumpeque Bay                                                208
  Causapscal                                                     106
  Causapscal River                                          106, 111
  Cedar Hall                                                     105
  Chain Lakes                                                    256
  Chambers Lake                                                  182
  Chambly                                                          9
  Chamouchouan                                                    89
  Champlain  5, 8, 13, 15, 21, 34, 43, 45, 52, 75, 87, 177, 203, 231
  Chapel Grove                                                   193
  Charlesbourg                                                    53
  Charlesbourg Road                                               47
  Charles I                                                       34
  Charlo River                                                   135
  Charlo River Fishing                                           135
  Charlottetown                                        215, 216, 224
  Chateau Frontenac                                           28, 45
  Chateau Richer                                                  58
  Chateau St. Louis                                           35, 45
  Chatham                                              142, 143, 144
  Chatham Junction                                          144, 199
  Chaudière                                           10, 61, 62, 68
  Chaudière River                                                 40
  Cheap Coal                                                     282
  Chebucto                                                       247
  Chedabucto Bay                                            265, 266
  Chester                                                        258
  Cheticamp                                                      295
  Cheticamp Valley                                               295
  Chezzetcook                                                    256
  Chicoutimi                                                   9, 87
  Chignecto Bay                                             195, 229
  Chignecto Peninsula                                            233
  China Passage                                                8, 30
  Chipman                                                   184, 195
  Chute Desbiens                                                  76
  Clare Mountain                                            164, 165
  Clifton                                                        193
  Climate of Provinces                                           230
  Cobequid Bay                                                   239
  Cobequid Mountains                                             235
  Cocagne Cape                                                   201
  Cocagne River                                                  200
  Cocagnes                                                       201
  Cole Harbor                                                    249
  College Lake                                                   265
  Colonial Loyalists                                          5, 233
  Columbus                                                         6
  Colville Bay                                                   223
  Commissioner’s Visit                                           125
  Country Cream                                                  167
  Coureurs du bois                                                29
  Cow Bay                                                        256
  Crawley’s Creek                                                281
  Cricket                                                   216, 255
  Cross Creek                                                    145
  Cross Point                                                    133
  Cumberland Basin                                               232
  Curling                                                        255

  Dalhousie                                                      134
  Dalhousie Gate                                                  43
  Dartmouth                                                      256
  Davidson’s Ferry                                               164
  Dartmouth Lake                                                 256
  Dartmouth Parks                                                256
  Deadman’s Isle                                                  37
  De Monts                                          13, 21, 177, 231
  Deer                                                      139, 145
  Deep-Sea Fishing            178, 215, 226, 232, 258, 266, 271, 288
  Derby Junction                                                 144
  D’Escousse                                                     297
  D’Ibberville                                                    35
  Digby                                                          184
  Donnacona                                                   31, 32
  Dorchester                                                     229
  Driving    71, 75, 78, 98, 101, 145, 178, 193, 195, 199, 212, 215,
     216, 226, 233, 255, 262, 264, 266, 281, 285, 288, 292, 295, 296
  Duck Cove                                                      129
  Dufferin Terrace                                            30, 46
  Dungarvon                                                      145
  Dunk River                                                     205
  Dutch Village                                                  256

  Eagle                                                          149
  Early Indians                                                  122
  Eastport                                                       184
  East River                                                 19, 264
  Eboulements, Les                                                70
  Edmundston                                                      80
  Egg Island                                                 37, 128
  Elliot River                                                   215
  Ellis River                                                    206
  Elmsdale                                                       208
  Emerillon                                                       70
  Enchanted Lake                                                 182
  Enjoying Old Age                                               204
  Eric, The Red                                                    6
  Escoumains, Les                                                 68
  Escuminac                                                      143
  Eternity Bay                                                    88
  Europe and Middle Ages                                           9
  Excursions by Rail                                             264

  Fairville                                                      182
  Fairy River                                                56, 139
  Falkland Village                                               256
  Farm Subdivisions                                               59
  Fast Pilgrimage Train                                           56
  Fishing  75, 78, 122, 126, 133, 139, 142, 144, 171, 178, 195, 200,
                              222, 233, 255, 262, 266, 285, 296, 297
  Fishing-Club Houses                                            117
  Fishing for Gold                                               293
  Fishing Privileges                                             117
  Fish Stories                                         113, 116, 282
  Five Islands                                                   233
  Flying Dutchman                                            37, 128
  Folleigh Lake                                             233, 237
  Folleigh River                                                 239
  Fort Beausejeur                                                232
  Fort Cumberland                                                232
  Fort Frederick                                                 180
  Fort Howe Hill                                                 182
  Fort St. Lawrence                                              232
  Fort St. Louis                                                  35
  Fossil Remains                                                 127
  Fourché                                                        285
  Fox Farms                                                      209
  Fox Island                                                     143
  Framboise                                                      285
  Francis I                                                       47
  Franey’s Chimney                                               293
  Fraser River Falls                                              76
  Fraserville                                                     80
  Fredericton                           145, 146, 153, 174, 180, 184
  French Armada                                                  255
  French Relics                              134, 256, 285, 287, 293
  French Town                                                    126
  French Village                                       162, 256, 265
  Frontenac                                           29, 35, 43, 45
  Fundy, Bay of           13, 142, 177, 181, 182, 193, 230, 232, 256
  Fur Trading                                                    271

  Gabarus Bay                                               286, 288
  Gaberouse                                                      285
  Garden of the Gulf                                             204
  Garden Province, A                                             206
  Gascon Capes                                                   131
  Gaspé                               7, 30, 121, 123, 125, 126, 129
  Gaspé Basin                                                    127
  Gaspé Peninsula                                 108, 121, 123, 133
  Gaspereau River                                                195
  Gates of Quebec                                         40, 44, 45
  Gay’s River                                                    244
  George’s Island                                                256
  George’s River                                                 278
  Georgetown                                                216, 224
  Georgeville                                                    265
  Glace Bay                                                      282
  Glen Emma                                                      107
  Glorious Night, A                                              164
  Gloucester Junction                                            139
  Golden Grove                                                   182
  Golf                            66, 71, 75, 85, 101, 181, 216, 255
  Gomez                                                          122
  Gouffre River                                                   70
  Government Railway Board                                       198
  Grand Discharge                                                 89
  Grande Hermine                                                  70
  Grand Falls                                               156, 168
  Grand Lake, N.B.                                     142, 184, 195
  Grand Lake, N.S.                                               244
  Grand Manan                                                    184
  Grand Narrows                                   272, 276, 278, 288
  Grand River, N.B.                                              112
  Grand River, P.Q.                                         121, 131
  Grand River Village                                            129
  Grand Métis River                                              101
  Grand Pré                                                      258
  Great Auk                                                      293
  Great Lakes                                                     68
  Green River                                                    113
  Guardian Angel                                                   9
  Guysboro                                         21, 244, 265, 266

  Ha-Ha Bay                                                       88
  Ha-Ha River                                                     87
  Habitant’s House                                                59
  Halifax                                  21, 25, 28, 232, 244, 246
  Hampton                                         184, 192, 193, 216
  Harbor au Bouche                                               265
  Harmony                                                        219
  Harrington’s Cove                                              129
  Harvey                                                         195
  Hattee Bay                                                      97
  Hawkshaw                                                  158, 164
  Heatherton                                                265, 269
  Henry IV                                                        13
  Henry VII                                                    8, 30
  Heroine of Acadia                                     13, 177, 178
  Herring Cove                                                   256
  Hillsborough                                                   195
  Hillsborough River                                             215
  Hill Scenery                                                   130
  Hochelaga                                                       32
  Hopewell Cape                                             195, 199
  House Boat                                                      23
  Hunter River                                              212, 215
  Hunting             66, 80, 133, 139, 144, 171, 178, 233, 255, 297
  Huron Indians                                           34, 54, 98

  Iberian Shipping                                                 8
  Ice Age                                                          8
  Ice Boat Service                                               227
  Indian Brook                                                   292
  Indian Courtship                                               187
  Indian Eloquence                                               187
  Indian Honeymoon                                               189
  Indian Legends                                         89, 94, 168
  Indian Lorette                                                  53
  Indian Manitou                                        92, 181, 190
  Indian Names                                                    15
  Indian Stories                                            115, 122
  Indiantown                                                177, 193
  Indian Traits                                                  184
  Indian Villages                                      184, 190, 216
  India Passage                                                8, 30
  Indian Superstitions                                           189
  Ingonish                                         24, 271, 274, 292
  Ingonish Island                                                292
  Intercolonial Railway     9, 21, 24, 28, 69, 80, 94, 98, 133, 142,
         143, 144, 184, 192, 195, 196, 198, 200, 229, 232, 233, 239,
                                        240, 266, 269, 275, 280, 288
  Iona                                                 277, 278, 288
  Inverness                                                      295
  Iroquois Indians                                 5, 34, 35, 44, 98
  Isle aux Coudres                                                70
  Isle Madame                                                    297
  Isle of Orleans                                     35, 37, 61, 68
  Isle Verte                                                  69, 96

  Jacques Cartier River                                           54
  Jacquet River                                                  137
  Jemseg                                                         180
  Joggins                                                        233
  Jubilee                                                        193

  Kamouraska                                                  69, 78
  Kassimiguagan                                                  111
  Ka-wis, Story of                                                92
  Keejim-Koojie                                                  258
  Kempt                                                          105
  Kennebecasis River                         142, 182, 184, 192, 195
  Kensington                                                     212
  Kent Junction                                             143, 200
  Keppoch                                                        216
  Keswick Islands                                                159
  Kildare River                                             208, 209
  Kingfisher                                                     148
  Kingsport                                                 184, 233
  Koack Islands                                                  158
  Kouchibouguac Bay                                         143, 200
  Kouchibouguacis                                           144, 200

  Lac au Saumon                                                  105
  Lake Ainslie                                                   295
  Lake O’Law                                                     293
  Lake Scenery                                              279, 280
  L’Ardoise                                                      297
  La Tour, Charles                                       13, 21, 177
  La Tour, Frances                                      13, 177, 178
  Lawrencetown                                                   256
  Leaping Tuna                                          21, 258, 282
  Legend of Percé Rock                                           127
  Lévis                                           10, 28, 37, 58, 62
  Lily Lake                                                      181
  L’Islet                                                         69
  Little Métis                                          68, 101, 105
  Liverpool                                                      258
  Lochaber                                                       265
  Loch Lomond, N.B.                                         182, 183
  Loch Lomond, C.B.                                              297
  Lockeport                                                      258
  Loggieville                                                    143
  Londonderry                                                    239
  Long Island                                               158, 192
  Longueuil                                                        9
  Loreine, Cape                                                  271
  Lorette                                                         54
  Louis XIV                                          22, 43, 52, 285
  Louisbourg                              22, 24, 274, 281, 285, 286
  Loyalists                                       156, 178, 196, 232
  Lumbering                                                      144
  Lunt’s Ferry                                                   160
  Lyon’s Brook                                                   261

  Mabou                                            24, 274, 288, 295
  Maccan                                                         233
  Macinquac River                                                162
  Madawaska                                            109, 142, 156
  Magdalen Islands                                     204, 223, 224
  Mahone Bay                                                     258
  Maitland                                                       244
  Malagash Point                                                 261
  Mal Bay                                                        120
  Maliceet Indians                                           15, 187
  Malignant Cove                                                 265
  Malpeque Bay                                                   206
  Marconi Stations                                               282
  Margaree River                                        24, 274, 295
  Marguerite River                                         9, 87, 88
  Marion Bridge                                                  285
  Maritime Provinces                                           7, 69
  Martello Towers                                                 46
  Marysville                                                     150
  Massacre Island, Story of                                       97
  Matane                                               101, 103, 121
  Matane River                                                   132
  Matane-Sur-Mer                                            101, 103
  Matapedia                                       105, 108, 117, 121
  Matapedia Lake                                                 105
  Matapedia River                        14, 106, 107, 108, 111, 142
  Matapedia Valley                                               104
  McConnell Lake                                                 182
  McIntyre’s Lake                                                275
  McKinnon’s Harbor                                              277
  MacNabs Island                                                 252
  Meductic Fall                                                  164
  Meeting of Waters                                              110
  Memramcook Valley                                              229
  Merigomish                                                     264
  Metabetchouan                                                   87
  Métis River                                                    108
  Micmac Indians                    15, 123, 133, 187, 205, 262, 275
  Middle River                                     24, 262, 274, 293
  Miguasha Point                                                 133
  Milford Haven                                                  266
  Military Camp                                               64, 66
  Milledgeville                                                  182
  Million-acre-Farm                                              204
  Mill River                                                     212
  Mill Stream                                               108, 195
  Mill Vale                                                      212
  Minas Basin                                184, 231, 232, 233, 258
  Minudie                                                        233
  Mira River                                                281, 285
  Miramichi Bay                                   142, 143, 144, 184
  Miramichi River                        14, 109, 111, 142, 177, 200
  Miscouche                                                      204
  Miscou Island                                             120, 139
  Missiguash River                                               230
  Mistassini River                                                87
  Moncton                               184, 192, 195, 198, 199, 229
  Montagnais Indians                                          83, 94
  Montague River                                                 224
  Montcalm                                    10, 29, 37, 38, 44, 56
  Montgomery                                              40, 47, 62
  Mont Joli                                                      126
  Montmagny                                               35, 43, 69
  Montmorency Falls                                               54
  Montmorency River                                               37
  Montreal                                                25, 28, 31
  Montrose                                                  208, 209
  Mont. Ste. Anne                                                126
  Moose                                                 14, 139, 167
  Moose River                                                    233
  Morell River                                                   218
  Morristown                                                     265
  Moss Glen                                                      193
  Motor-Boating      66, 134, 159, 174, 192, 205, 216, 218, 281, 295
  Motor-Boat Joys                                                162
  Motor-Canoe Trip                                               159
  Moulin River                                                    70
  Mountain Scenery                                               132
  Mount Stewart                                             216, 224
  Mt. Pleasant                                                   182
  Mulgrave                                        260, 265, 288, 297
  Mulgrave Trips                                                 266
  Murray Bay                                          10, 71, 73, 78
  Murray Bay River                                                76
  Murray Harbor                                                  226
  Murray River                                                   226
  Musquodoboit River                                        244, 256

  Nacawick River                                                 164
  Nashwaak River                        142, 145, 146, 151, 156, 180
  Nature-Lover, The                               224, 226, 235, 239
  Nauwigewauk                                                    193
  Navy Island                                                    256
  Nearn Fall                                                      76
  Neguac                                                         143
  Neigette                                                       108
  Nelson                                                      29, 49
  Nepisiguit Bay                                                 138
  Nepisiguit Falls                                          113, 139
  Nepisiguit Junction                                       113, 139
  Nepisiguit Lake                                           111, 139
  Nepisiguit River                       14, 109, 111, 113, 138, 142
  New Brunswick               7, 12, 13, 69, 108, 142, 144, 145, 230
  New Carlisle                                                   121
  Newcastle                                                 142, 144
  New England Colonists                          5, 21, 22, 247, 286
  New France                                                  30, 32
  New Glasgow, P.E.I.                                            212
  New Glasgow, N.S.                                              264
  New London                                                     212
  Newport                                                        129
  New Richmond                                              121, 132
  Neil’s Harbor                                                  293
  Nictor Lake                                                    111
  Normandy                                                9, 17, 204
  Norman Life                                                     70
  Norman Peasants                                                 29
  Normans                                                          7
  Norse Discovery                                                122
  Norsemen                                                    6, 271
  Northern Forks                                                 111
  North Lake                                                     219
  North Mountains                                                233
  North River, C.B.                                         274, 292
  North River, N.B.                                         195, 200
  North Sydney                                              280, 281
  Northumberland Straits                     200, 201, 230, 232, 260
  North-West Arm                                            253, 255
  Norton                                                    192, 195
  Notre Dame du Portage                                           80
  Nouvelle River                                                 133
  Nova Scotia                            7, 18, 21, 37, 69, 230, 231

  Old France                                                       9
  Old Smoky                                                       24
  Old World                                                       10
  Orangedale                                                     276
  Orwell                                                         216
  Ottawa Brook                                                   277
  Ottawa River                                                     8
  Ouiatchouan Falls                                               89
  Outdoor Life                                              157, 178
  Oxford Junction                                           233, 260

  Pabineau Fall                                                  114
  Pabineau River                                            114, 139
  Pabos                                                          129
  Pabos River, Great                                             129
  Pabos River, Little                                            129
  Painsec Junction                                          200, 229
  Parrsboro                                                 184, 233
  Partridges                                                     167
  Paspebiac                                                      131
  Patapedia                                                 108, 112
  Peaceful Valleys                                               219
  Penobsquis                                                     195
  Percé                                                          129
  Percé Rock                                                126, 127
  Peribonka                                                       87
  Percé Bar                                                      159
  Petitcodiac                                          192, 195, 198
  Petit de Grat                                                  297
  Petite Hermine                                                  70
  Phipps, Admiral                                                 35
  Picardy                                                    17, 204
  Pictou                                               224, 261, 262
  Pikouagami                                                      87
  Piscicultural Station                                           84
  Pitt, Wm.                                                       40
  Plains of Abraham                                           30, 38
  Pleasant Point                                                 182
  Pleasant Summer Nights                                         264
  Pokiok                                               158, 164, 167
  Po-kwa-ha, Story of                                             89
  Pointe è Pic                                        71, 73, 74, 76
  Pointe-au-Maquerau                                             129
  Pointe aux Trembles                                              9
  Pointe Bleue                                                    89
  Point du Chene                                            200, 201
  Point Pleasant Park                                            252
  Point Rochefort                                                287
  Point Tupper                                              275, 297
  Pollet River                                                   195
  Ponhook Lake                                                   258
  Porpoise, White                                                 86
  Portage de l’Enfant                                             89
  Portage Island                                                 143
  Port Daniel                                               121, 129
  Port Hill                                                      206
  Port Hood                                                      295
  Port Morien                                               281, 284
  Port Royal                                            21, 177, 232
  Portuguese Fishermen                                           271
  Priest, a Witty                                                 52
  Prince Edward Island                  7, 15, 37, 69, 201, 203, 230
  Prince Edward Island Railway                24, 206, 216, 224, 226
  Prospect Point                                                 180
  Provence                                                         9
  Public Gardens, Halifax                                        253
  Puce, Rivière à la                                              58
  Pugwash                                                   260, 261

  Quaco                                                          193
  Quebec             7, 25, 28, 35, 37, 40, 58, 61, 66, 73, 184, 230
  Quebec Citadel                                              30, 43
  Quebec, Eastern                                                 69
  Quebec Fortifications                                           43

  Ragged Point                                                   182
  Reach, The                                                     158
  Red Bank                                                       144
  Red Island                                                      83
  Renforth                                                       192
  Renous                                                         145
  Restigouche River                 14, 108, 111, 112, 133, 142, 177
  Reversing Fall                                       172, 180, 182
  Rhode Island of Canada                                          15
  Richelieu River                                                  8
  Richibucto                                                144, 200
  Richibucto River                                               200
  Riley Brook                                                    111
  Rimouski                                                  100, 108
  River Denys                                                    275
  River John                                                     261
  River Philip                                                   233
  Riviere du Loup                                      9, 69, 80, 94
  Riviere Ouelle                                               9, 71
  Riviere Ouelle Junction                                         71
  Roberval                                                32, 87, 89
  Rockwood Park                                                  181
  Rocky Point                                                    216
  Roosevelt                                                      114
  Rossignol Lake                                            231, 258
  Rothesay                                                  182, 192
  Rowing                                                         205
  Royal Canadian Artillery                                        43
  Rustico                                              204, 212, 215
  Rustico Bay                                                    215

  Sackville                                                      229
  Sacré Coeur                                                    100
  Saguenay                                    68, 80, 81, 83, 86, 94
  Saguenay River                                            8, 9, 87
  Salisbury                                                      195
  Salmon                                                14, 139, 167
  Salmon Abundant                                                113
  Salmon Fishing                                                 117
  Salmon River, N.B.                                             195
  Salmon River, N.S.                                             266
  Salmon River, C.B.                                             285
  Salmon Waters                                                   66
  Sambro                                                         252
  Sand Dunes                                                208, 218
  Sayabec                                                        105
  Scottish Highlanders                                           275
  Scottish Scenery                                                75
  Sea Birds                                                      223
  Sealing                                                    86, 223
  Seals                                                           86
  Sentinel Rock                                                  292
  Seven Falls                                                     59
  Shediac                                                   199, 200
  Shediac Island                                                 200
  Shelburne                                                      258
  Sherbrooke                                                     265
  Shickshock Mountains                                           121
  Shippegan Island                                          120, 139
  Shogomoc Lake                                                  158
  Shogomoc Rapids                                           164, 165
  Shogomoc River                                                 158
  Shooting                                                       139
  Shubenacadie River                                        244, 256
  Sillery                                                     38, 68
  Skipper Ireson                                                 120
  Skoodawabskook River                                           167
  Skoodawabskooksis River                                        167
  Smugglers, Story of                                            220
  Snake Story                                                    185
  Social Life                            78, 101, 122, 205, 239, 288
  Souris                                                    216, 223
  Southport                                                      216
  Speaking French                                                100
  Springhill Junction                                            233
  Squirrels as Anglers                                           116
  Stadacona                                               31, 32, 34
  Stanhope                                                       215
  Stanley Bridge                                                 212
  Stellarton                                                260, 264
  Stewiacke                                                      244
  Story of Belle Marie                                           210
  Story of Tonadalwa                                             211
  Strait of Canso                                   21, 30, 260, 265
  Strathlorne                                                    295
  Successful Ruse                                                 38
  Sugar Loaf Mountain                                            133
  Summer Cottages                                            78, 101
  Summerside                                      201, 203, 205, 206
  Summer Temperatures                                             69
  Surprise in Geography, A                                       281
  Sussex                                                    192, 195
  Sussex Vale                                                    195
  Swiss Scenery                                                  127
  Swiss Settlement                                               261
  Swordfish                                                  21, 258
  Swordfish and Whale                                             86
  Sydney                        24, 25, 272, 275, 278, 280, 281, 288
  Sydney Industries                                              281
  Sydney River                                              280, 281
  Sydney to Newfoundland                                         281
  Sydney Trips                                                   281
  St. Anaclet                                                    100
  St. Andrew’s Channel                                           276
  Ste. Anne                                                    9, 59
  Ste. Anne de Beaupré                                            56
  Ste. Anne de la Pocatière                                       69
  Ste. Anne, N.B.                                                156
  Ste. Anne River                                             10, 54
  St. Ann’s River                                                292
  St. Arsène                                                      94
  St. Catharines                                                  83
  St. Charles River                                       32, 39, 45
  St. Charles Lake                                                54
  St. Croix                                                       68
  St. Fereol                                                   9, 59
  St. Fidèle                                                      78
  Ste. Flavie                                                    101
  St. George’s Bay                                               264
  St. Hyacinthe                                                    9
  St. Irénée                                          10, 71, 73, 78
  St. Jean Port Joli                                              69
  St. Joachim                                                     58
  St. John                   9, 25, 28, 173, 177, 178, 182, 192, 193
  St. John Lake                                        9, 87, 89, 94
  St. John River    14, 109, 112, 142, 145, 146, 155, 156, 164, 173,
  St. Joseph Lake                                                 54
  St. Lawrence, Crossing the                                      81
  St. Lawrence, Gate of                                          265
  St. Lawrence Gulf                       12, 15, 135, 208, 271, 293
  St. Lawrence Islands                                            69
  St. Lawrence River  7, 12, 28, 31, 35, 68, 86, 101, 105, 121, 135,
                                                       184, 230, 232
  St. Lawrence Steamboats                                         73
  St. Lawrence Sunset                                             78
  St. Lawrence System                                              8
  St. Leonard’s                                                  113
  St. Louis                                                      200
  St. Margaret’s Bay                                        256, 258
  St. Martin’s                                                   193
  St. Mary’s River                                               265
  St. Maurice                                                     31
  St. Maurice River                                                8
  St. Modeste                                                     94
  St. Moise                                                      105
  St. Octave                                                     101
  St. Paschal                                                     80
  St. Paul’s Island                                              293
  St. Peter’s                                     274, 278, 288, 297
  St. Peter’s Bay                                                218
  St. Romuald                                                     62
  St. Simeon                                                      78

  Table Head                                                     282
  Tabusintac                                                     143
  Tadousac                             8, 68, 73, 80, 81, 83, 84, 94
  Tantramar River                                                229
  Tapley Bar                                                     158
  Tatamagouche                                                   261
  Taxis River                                                    145
  Tay River                                                      145
  Temiscouata Lake                                                80
  Tennis                      66, 71, 75, 78, 85, 101, 181, 216, 255
  Tent and Shack Life                                            137
  Tête-a-Gauche River                                            139
  Thoreau                                                      9, 30
  Thousand Isles of Saguenay                                      89
  Thou, The                                                       76
  Thunderstorm, The                                               98
  Tidal Bore                                                     198
  Tideless Ocean                                                  24
  Tides, Marvellous                                              231
  Tidnish                                                    21, 232
  Tignish                                         204, 205, 206, 209
  Tobique Narrows                                                154
  Tobique River                              109, 113, 142, 145, 154
  Tobique Valley                                                 111
  Tom Kedgewick                                                  112
  Tor Bay                                                        266
  Tormentine, Cape                                          227, 230
  Touladi Lake                                                    80
  Tracadie                               21, 133, 139, 215, 218, 265
  Tracadiegash Mountain                                          132
  Trans St. Laurent Co.                                    9, 80, 81
  Traverse, Cape                                                 227
  Treaty of Utrecht                                               37
  Trips from Halifax                                             258
  Trois Pistoles                                               69,96
  Troubadours                                                      9
  Trout Creek                                                     11
  Trout Fishing           66, 139, 143, 157, 182, 205, 218, 262, 297
  Trout Lakes                                                    114
  Trout River, P.E.I.                                            212
  Trout River, C.B.                                              296
  Truro                                                 21, 239, 260
  Twilight, St. John River                                       163

  Upsalquitch Lake                                               111
  Upsalquitch River                      14, 109, 112, 113, 117, 142

  Vauban                                                 22, 43, 285
  Velasquez                                                      122
  Verazzano                                                      271
  Victoria                                                       216
  Victoria Bridge                                                285
  Victoria Park, Truro                                           239
  Vikings                                                          7
  Villebon                                                  156, 180

  Wagamatcook River                                              293
  Walking   78, 85, 98, 101, 134, 145, 193, 195, 199, 212, 215, 216,
                                        235, 249, 261, 264, 288, 296
  Walks, Pleasant                                                 66
  Wallace River                                                  235
  Wanawassis Falls                                               161
  Washademoak Lake                                               184
  Waverley                                                       244
  Wellington                                                     206
  Wentworth Valley                                           18, 233
  Westchester                                                    233
  Western Continent                                                8
  West River                                                     262
  Westville                                                      262
  Whale and Swordfish                                             86
  Whale Stories                                                   86
  Whales, White                                                   70
  Wheatly River                                                  215
  Whitehead                                                      266
  Whittier                                                         6
  Whycocomagh                                      24, 274, 288, 295
  Whycocomagh Bay                                                288
  Wild Birds                                      139, 143, 167, 297
  Wild Canary                                                    149
  Wild Flowers             58, 66, 131, 226, 233, 249, 260, 274, 292
  Wild Fowl                                                 129, 218
  Wilmot River                                                   205
  Windsor Junction                                               244
  Wolfe                               10, 29, 37, 39, 46, 56, 61, 64
  Wolfe’s Cove                                                38, 46
  Wolfesfield                                                     46
  Woodstock                                                      156

  Yachting                              122, 174, 181, 192, 205, 216
  York River                                                     215

                           Transcriber’s Notes

--Copyright notice provided as in the original—this e-text is public
  domain in the country of publication.

--Silently corrected palpable typos, leaving non-standard spellings and
  dialect unchanged.

--Provided an original cover image, for unrestricted free use with this
  Distributed Proofreaders-Canada eBook.

--Only in the text versions, delimited italicized text (or
  non-italicized text within poetry) in _underscores_ (the HTML version
  reproduces the font form of the printed book.)

--Checked image captions by collating several imperfectly-preserved
  scansets (two or three captions were not recoverable.)

*** End of this Doctrine Publishing Corporation Digital Book "Summer Provinces by the Sea - A description of the Vacation Resources of Eastern Quebec - and the Maritime Provinces of Canada, in the territory - served by the Canadian Government Railways" ***

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