{"1": {"fulltext": "\u00c2\u00bbaMyitfinqii\u00c2\u00bbwi\u00c2\u00bbwa a u M \u00c2\u00bbwu\u00c2\u00bbM i i i i i iMWw\\n-.Mii u\u00c2\u00ab o.w.jin-", "height": "3020", "width": "1975", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0001.jp2"}, "2": {"fulltext": "LIBRARY OF CONGRESS.\\nCliap.Sii!)i1Copjrig]it No\\nShelf.:J^_I.C\\nUNITED STATES OF AMERICA.", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0002.jp2"}, "3": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0003.jp2"}, "4": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0004.jp2"}, "5": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0005.jp2"}, "6": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0006.jp2"}, "7": {"fulltext": "Digitized by tine Internet Arciiive\\nin 2010 with funding from\\nTine Library of Congress\\nlittp://www.arcliive.org/details/downnortliupalongOOmorl", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0007.jp2"}, "8": {"fulltext": "Waitinc; for the Tide", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0008.jp2"}, "9": {"fulltext": "Down North and\\nUp Along\\nBy\\nMargaret Warner Morley\\nAuthor of The Honey-makers, The Bee People,\\nWith Illustrations\\nt\\nNew York\\nDodd, Mead and Company\\n1900", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0009.jp2"}, "10": {"fulltext": "TWO COPIES RECEIVED,\\nLfjrary of C(sng\\nOfficii of th\u00c2\u00ab\\nP 1 1900\\nH9gl9Ue of Copyrlghtih\\nCopyright, igoo\\nBy Dodd, Mead and Company\\nSECOND COPY,\\nUNIVERSITY PRESS JOHN WILSON\\nAND SON CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A.", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0010.jp2"}, "11": {"fulltext": "CONTENTS\\nPage\\nI. DiGBY I\\nII. Cannon Field l6\\nIII. Acadia 36\\nIV. Acadia s Crops 49\\nV. Grand Pre 57\\nVI. Evangeline 69\\nVII, The Acadians 80\\nVIII. Blomidon 94\\nIX. Partridge Island iio\\nX. Halifax 130\\nXI. Toward Cape Breton 146\\nXII. Baddeck 158\\nXIII. Englishtown 173\\nXIV. French River 193\\nXV. Cape Smoky 214\\nXVI. Ingonish 235\\nXVII. The Half Way House 254\\nXVIII. AspY Bay 273\\nXIX. Cape North 287", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0011.jp2"}, "12": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0012.jp2"}, "13": {"fulltext": "ILLUSTRATIONS\\nWaiting for the Tide Frontispiece\\nFacing Page\\nDiGBY 4\\nSounds drying 4\\nOx WITH Head Yoke 28\\nAt THE End of the Day 60\\nA Leafy Tent of the Micmacs 88\\nSpinning ^54\\nCape Smoky, Cape Breton 184\\nDrying Cod 208\\nSplitting Tables 210\\nEarly Morning on the Coast 224\\nWashing Potatoes 230\\nCatching Trout for Dinner 244\\nCooking Trout 262\\nClybourn s Brook 278\\nA Fishing Schooner 296\\nThe illustrations in this book are from photographs by Amelia M. fVatson,\\nEdith S. IFatson, and Frank G. Warner.", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0013.jp2"}, "14": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0014.jp2"}, "15": {"fulltext": "MAPS\\nFacing Page\\nNova Scotia 8\\nCoRNWALLis Valley 38\\nCape Breton Island 158", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0015.jp2"}, "16": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0016.jp2"}, "17": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nI\\nDIGBY\\nTHE St. John River runs uphill. Not\\nthrough its whole course, and not\\nall the time. Still, it runs uphill, as\\none can readily see by standing at\\nhigh tide on the bridge that crosses its mouth\\nat the town of St. John, and watching the\\nwater rush like a mill-race up from the Bay of\\nFundy into the land, where it pours over rocks\\nin cascades that fall the wrong way.\\nAside from this eccentricity, the St. John is\\nan orderly and very beautiful stream, winding\\nin its course and bordered by lovely headlands.\\nFrom St. John, New Brunswick, to Digby,\\nNova Scotia, is a three or five hours sail, ac-\\ncording to the condition of the St. Rupert s\\nsteam cylinders, that humorous vessel having a\\nway of blowing one or more of them out just\\nbefore the hour of starting.\\nThe way from St. John to Digby lies across\\nthe Bay of Fundy. What better port of entry\\nto a new country could be desired than the", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0017.jp2"}, "18": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nsounding Bay of Fundy, with the high tides\\nof one s childhood s geography still beating on\\nits shores\\nAnd then the thrill of mingled indignation\\nand satisfaction with which one suddenly dis-\\ncovers the English flag over one s head instead\\nof the stars and stripes Indignation thus to be\\nsailing under a foreign flag in one s own coun-\\ntry, as it were, but satisfaction to have reached\\nforeign soil with so little efiTort. One always\\nobserves with regret that the English flag is\\nfar more beautiful than the stars and stripes,\\nfor no amount of loyalty can blend a stripe\\nof red and then of white into a harmony truly\\ngrateful to the eye.\\nThe Bay of Fundy cannot be described as\\nan exciting spectacle on that calm August day\\nwhen first we saw it. Indeed, it very much\\nresembled any other expanse of water, and if its\\ntides are beyond all reason we did not perceive\\nit then.\\nWe came sailing through the Digby Gut at\\nsunset, the clear waters of Fundy behind us, the\\nAnnapolis Basin opening dream-like in front,\\nwhile to the right the bold front of Beaman s\\nMountain, and to the left the abrupt termina-\\n2", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0018.jp2"}, "19": {"fulltext": "Digh\\ntion of North Mountain, narrowed the Gut to\\nits present mile-wide channel, holding it in\\nsure rocky bonds that no monster tides nor\\nwinter storms could unloose.\\nIf the gods are propitious, when the traveller\\nsails through Digby Gut he will have a clear\\nsky under which the Annapolis Basin will lie\\nblue, and in the distance misty, defined by the\\npleasing outlines of its purple-blue hills. On\\nthe right Digby will lie, so dream-like and\\nlovely that one fears to draw near, lest it\\nvanish and a commonplace village take its\\nplace.\\nIf the gods are wholly inclined to favour the\\ntraveller, he will approach Digby, not only at\\nsunset, on a clear day, but at low tide as well.\\nThen the village that in the distance was a\\nvision of wonderful blues and purples will not\\ngrow commonplace as he comes near, for he\\nwill forget all about it.\\nBy the time he is close enough to discover\\nits unpoetical and actual state his attention will\\nbe centred upon the wharf that towers high\\nabove the smoke-stack of the steamer as it\\ncomes alongside it. Far above the passengers\\nheads a heavy wall of planks is hung with wet\\n3", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0019.jp2"}, "20": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nseaweeds and painted deep browns and greens\\nby the ocean, while clusters of barnacles add\\ntheir gray and white to the strange decorations.\\nThere is a strong salt smell in the air, that\\nfragrance of seaweed that always brings loving\\nmemories of landing on distant shores.\\nThe St. Rupert did not seem so small a\\nsaint until we came under this giant sea-tapes-\\ntried wharf and saw the people above leaning\\nover and peering down into the depths where we\\nwallowed in the sea. And we saw no method\\nshort of flight which could raise us to their\\nlevel.\\nI expected M., my artist friend, who is timid\\nin the face of high places, to look worried over\\nthe situation but no, she was as serene as a\\nMay morning. The wharf was picturesque,\\nhence so commonplace an emotion as fear was\\nno luxury here, and she left the responsibility\\nof landing to the English government while\\nshe enjoyed the novel scene to the utmost.\\nHigh wharves have their own secrets, we\\nwere to learn, as the boat with much puffing\\nand snorting and rope-pulling finally swung\\nabout and we discovered ourselves close to a\\nlanding within the pier. Beneath one side of\\n4", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0020.jp2"}, "21": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0021.jp2"}, "22": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0022.jp2"}, "23": {"fulltext": "Digby\\nit a wedge had been cut out, the narrow end\\non shore, and the wide one out in the water\\nunder the wharf. The opening thus formed\\nwas heavily planked within, and we crossed the\\ngangway into a cavern slimy and strange.\\nThe floor upon which we stepped was damp,\\nbarnacles encrusted the beams at the sides and\\noverhead, while green, brown, and yellow sea-\\nweeds hung on the walls, and a large starfish\\nwith his arms wrapped about a stone appeared\\nto be gazing knowingly at us out of one round\\nCyclopean eye, which, alas was no eye at all,\\nand we knew that in spite of his wise look he\\nwas as blind as a mole.\\nThere was a strong clean odour of the sea in\\nthis strange cavern, and we heard some one\\nnear say that at high tide the place upon which\\nwe stood would be thirty feet under water. So\\nthis giant wharf was a tribute to the tides of\\nFundy\\nWe had a sudden wish to get out we im-\\nagined the tide coming in swiftly, surely\\nconcealing the existence of this hole in the side\\nof the pier the surface of the water sparkling\\nin the sunlight twenty feet higher than the\\nroof of the dark cavern.\\n5", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0023.jp2"}, "24": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nStrong horses, drawing low-swung trucks,\\ncame tramping down the incline. There was a\\ncrowd of people making their way toward the\\noblong space of light at the top. We joined\\nthe throng, and as we reached the top turned\\nand looked back.\\nAbove us were great jointed timbers form-\\ning a rude arch within was the half-lighted\\ncavern with its sea-painted walls. It was a\\nstrange sight and one that often afterward\\ndrew us to the wharf when the tide was low at\\nthe hour of landing. Up out of the sea-cavern\\npoured a stream of people dim in the back-\\nground was a pool of water where the blind\\nstarfish clasped its stone and waited for the\\nincoming tide.\\nThe people seemed to be coming up out of\\nthis water, and they should have been stream-\\ning with seaweed and clad in scales.\\nWe were not disappointed in Digby. It is\\nnot the dream city that we saw from the boat,\\nbut it is good. Its houses are commonplace\\nand uninteresting. Still, we found it good to\\nbe in Digby. Its location, the buildings stand-\\ning on one long street under a hillside, reminds\\none of Provincetown, but the sand-hills of that\\n6", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0024.jp2"}, "25": {"fulltext": "Digby\\nfishy place of delight are lacking here this hill-\\nside is sodded with the most brilliant green,\\nand groups of trees grow upon it.\\nAt present Hfe is simple in Digby. The\\nAmericans, as they call us of the United\\nStates, have not yet invaded it enough to spoil\\nits simplicity. But it is only a question of\\ntime when fair Digby will belong to the\\nsummer tourist. Now it is in possession of\\nthe codfish. Everywhere through the vil-\\nlage, which straggles in a way to make com-\\npensation in part for its crimes in architecture,\\nare to be seen rows upon rows of flakes,\\ncovered in fair weather with the triumphant\\nform of the cod, with reinforcements of the\\nless-esteemed haddock, hake, and pollock.\\nThe codfish flakes are the same here as on\\nCape Cod, the same gray skeletons built of\\nslats laid across long side-pieces, like wide,\\nclose-runged ladders placed parallel to the earth\\nand supported two feet or so above it.\\nOne likes codfish flakes, just as one does\\nold houses and old-fashioned posy-beds. They\\ngive character to a place, and they always select\\nthe most picturesque corners and fields in which\\nto exhibit themselves. They cling to the\\n7", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0025.jp2"}, "26": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nshores, pre-empt all unoccupied places about\\nthe wharves, and cluster about the cottages\\nof the poor. They are seldom level, but\\npursue a wavy, uncertain course, as though,\\ngray and decrepit, they were about to give\\nup mortal strife and settle in peace to the\\nearth beneath. And then the odour of them\\nAnyone who does not love the faint fragrance\\nthat clings to the gray old flakes has no kin-\\nship with the ocean.\\nDuring the summer months upon the flakes\\nlies the wealth of Digby. Here the codfish is\\nspread out to dry. The time of greatest\\nignominy as well as of greatest picturesqueness\\nfor a codfish is during its season of drying\\nupon the flakes. It may then be sat upon\\nor stood upon and otherwise misused. It\\nloses its identity completely, and nobody feels\\nthe slightest obligation to show it respect. It\\nhas lost its fishly and elegant proportions\\nit is flat, shrunken, saturated with salt, and\\nlies, acres of it, spread out on its flakes to\\nrender to the strong sea-breezes and the heat\\nof the sun the last remnant of water in its\\nwithered form. It gives a quaint colouring to\\nthe landscape and fills the air with its own", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0026.jp2"}, "27": {"fulltext": "o", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0027.jp2"}, "28": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0028.jp2"}, "29": {"fulltext": "Digby\\ninimitable fragrance, the fragrance that lin-\\ngers about the flakes when its form is no longer\\nthere. It sends forth a clean appetising odour\\nvery different from the fishy incense that per-\\nvades Provincetown, that mingled odour of\\nfresh, stale, and salt fish with a flavouring of tar\\nand bilge-water, the memory of which pursues\\nthe stranger, but does not fill him with emo-\\ntions of delight.\\nThe memory of the fragrant Digby fish-\\nflakes is a pleasure. Digby is so exquisitely\\nclean, the air from Fundy is so abundant and\\nclear, that the only rivals to the odour of the\\ndrying cod are the salt smell of the seaweeds\\nat low tide and the fragrance from the sur-\\nrounding flower-gardens.\\nWhether the sailor men like it or not, they\\nare obliged to keep ship and wharf clean when\\nin Digby. The law gives them a sharp prod\\nin the form of a fine if they grow negligent.\\nThe great winds are a wholesome purifier of\\nboth ship and town, but even so, the cleanliness\\nof the fishing-schooners as they come in loaded\\nis something of a surprise. It is something\\nof a surprise too to see the cod put through\\nhis phases, from the shining fish that comes\\n9", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0029.jp2"}, "30": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nin on the schooners to the dull triangular\\nform that appears on the flakes.\\nOne thinks of the pitchfork as an implement\\nof the farm it bears upon its prongs sugges-\\ntions of new-mown hay and golden straw, but\\nhere at Digby its real meaning is apparent. It\\nis Neptune s trident with one of the prongs\\nlost in the vortex of time. It is used, of course,\\nin its proper field, to pitch codfish. Out of\\nthe ship s hold the shining forms are tossed as\\na farmer s boy tosses a sheaf of grain.\\nThey have already, while on shipboard,\\ngone through their first sad experiences, and\\nnow, headless, heartless, and saturated with\\nsalt, though still with shining skins, they are\\npitchforked from the hold to the deck.\\nAnother trident-bearer then pitchforks them to\\nthe wharf Here they are pitchforked to the\\nwooden cradle in which they are weighed.\\nFrom the cradle they are once more pitchforked\\ninto a great quivering heap on the wharf.\\nThence they are pitchforked into wheelbarrows\\nand wheeled to the store-room, where they are\\npitchforked into vats and resalted.\\nAs the cod receives his last pitchforking you\\nexamine him, expecting to find him riddled", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0030.jp2"}, "31": {"fulltext": "Dighy\\nwith holes and as ragged as Rip Van Winkle s\\nold coat at the end of his twenty years sleep\\non the mountain. But here is matter for reflec-\\ntion. Try your best you cannot find a hole\\nin him. He bears a charmed anatomy. He\\nmust certainly have been constructed with\\nspecial reference to being pitchforked.\\nThere is a fiction about his getting a scrub-\\nbing when he reaches land. This is a treatment\\nwhich, to the observer, he appears to need\\nseveral times before he is finally considered\\ncured. But he gets it only once, one scrub-\\nbing, like a plenary indulgence, evidently being\\nthought sufficient to wipe away future as well as\\npresent stains. There are reasons for conjec-\\nturing that the scrubbing is sometimes omitted\\naltogether, and that he is introduced to his flakes\\nwith the manifold marks of his captivity upon\\nhim.\\nHe rests awhile in the vats of salt into which\\nhe was finally pitchforked, then Is taken out\\nand press-piled for a few days. This is not\\nas bad as being pitchforked. It is merely\\nbeing piled up, tail in and shoulders out, into\\na round mound by the fish-flakes. These\\nmounds of penitent cod are a part of the", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0031.jp2"}, "32": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\npicturesqueness of the actual life of the flakes.\\nThere is now no more pitchforking that ordeal\\nat least is over.\\nThe fish are spread upon the flakes by hand,\\nand the operator becomes very expert in shying\\na dried cod into exactly the right spot. An\\nexpert will shy cod half the length of a long\\nflake and never make a miss.\\nHere they lie in the sun to be blown upon\\nby the kindly winds, and if these winds prove\\nunkindly and blow upon the patient cod dust\\nfrom the road and soot from the chimneys, that\\nis but a slight vicissitude in the life of a dried\\ncodfish which nobody minds.\\nWhen night comes the cod are gathered up\\ninto piles on the flakes and covered over. In\\nthe morning they are spread out again. This\\nis repeated every fair day until they are dry\\nenough, when they are put into the picturesque\\npress-piles again to await transportation to\\ndistant markets. Such is the history attached\\nto the fragrant flakes, and such is the occupation\\nof Digby.\\nNothing looks less likely to produce a large\\nincome than a pile of dried codfish, perhaps\\nwith an old coat hung over it, that being the\\n12", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0032.jp2"}, "33": {"fulltext": "Digby\\nhandiest way of disposing of the garment until\\nneeded. Yet these thin, gray, misshapen\\nspectres have an incredible amount of good meat\\npacked under their shrivelled skins, and they\\nbring in many thousands of dollars to the\\nindustrious fisher-folk.\\nNor, while we are upon the subject, is dried\\nfish the sailor s only revenue from the prodigal\\ncod. Upon the decks of the ships are great\\nodorous vats full of livers from which the sun s\\nrays are economically extracting the oil.\\nFish oil once encountered is very lasting, and\\nis not readily forgotten or forgiven. The\\ncod-liver oil of the apothecary is a fragrant\\ndelicacy compared to the contents of the vats\\nas they come frothing in from the fishing\\ngrounds.\\nThen there are the sounds, as the sailors\\ncall the swim-bladders. They too are saved,\\nand having been dried in the sun go to the\\nmanufacturer to come forth as gelatin, or\\nperchance as glue. Fried fresh sounds and\\ncods tongues form a delicacy highly prized\\nby the fisher-folk and not to be scorned by the\\ndiscriminating stranger.\\nThe sounds are sent to the United States^\\n13", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0033.jp2"}, "34": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nmostly to Boston, and the oil too is sent to the\\nUnited States, to heal her consumptives and\\ngrease her machinery, but the cod himself takes\\nhis last sea-voyage from Digby to the West\\nIndies.\\nThe West Indians must have an unappeas-\\nable appetite for dried codfish, judging from\\nthe quantities reputed to be sent there. Every\\nweek-day Digby prepares codfish for the West\\nIndians, but not on Sunday. Those who think\\nit a sin for cod to dry on Sunday have raised\\na bulwark about weak humanity that might be\\ntempted, by imposing a fine upon the public\\nappearance of the cod on the Lord s day.\\nThis information was given M. by an owner\\nof cod-flakes who was out one Sunday morning\\nin quest of his cow. The good man was in his\\nwork-a-day clothes, which made him feel\\nashamed. He apologised for not being dressed\\nup as became a respectable man on Sunday,\\nsaying he did not expect to meet with ladies.\\nThis little incident well illustrates the con-\\ndition of the people here, and the feeling of\\nself-respect that seems to animate every one.\\nWhile the cod may not appear upon Sunday\\nwithout causing disgrace to his owner, still,\\n14", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0034.jp2"}, "35": {"fulltext": "Sounds Drying", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0035.jp2"}, "36": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0036.jp2"}, "37": {"fulltext": "J^igh\\nthere are exceptions to all rules, M. s apolo-\\ngetic Sabbath-breaker owned, and she there-\\nupon learned that the limit of Digby s piety is\\nthe condition of her codfish, for if there should\\nbe a week of bad weather, and the fish in\\ndanger of spoiling, they may sun themselves of\\na Sunday without injury to the souls of their\\nowners.\\nM. s informant was himself a member of the\\nChurch of England, because, as he explained,\\nthe English were not as strict as the Bap-\\ntists and Methodists. He did not think it was\\nwicked to sketch on Sunday, a statement which\\ncomforted M. greatly, as she was engaged at\\nthe time in that sinful Sunday occupation.\\nIS", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0037.jp2"}, "38": {"fulltext": "II\\nCANNON FIELD\\nIN Digby the temptation to sketch is con-\\nstant, M. says. One wants to be at it all\\nthe time. There are a few, a very few\\npicturesque houses, but it is the coast it-\\nself, the queer high wharves, the fish-flakes, the\\nstorehouses, the old apple-trees on Cannon\\nField, and the numberless views on every\\nhand outside the village that appeal to one\\nmost.\\nCannon Field is a place easy to be discovered\\nwithout help, but it does not detract from its\\nmerits to have it enthusiastically pointed out\\nby a small boy whose peculiar anatomy is ex-\\nplained when he proceeds to unload from\\nblouse and pockets several quarts of live snails\\nwhich he deposits at your feet that he may the\\nbetter instruct you upon the topography of\\nDigby and criticise your sketch of a neighbour-\\ning wharf. The small boy is always present\\nwhen one sits down to paint, and often he is\\nnot unwelcome, particularly if he informs his\\nhearers, as this one did, with a pride quite justi-\\ni6", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0038.jp2"}, "39": {"fulltext": "Cannon Field\\nfiable, if the statement were correct, that his\\nfather owned the Baptist Church of Boston.\\nCannon Field is to the right upon coming\\nup from the wharf. It is at the top of a bluff\\nwhose base is washed by the sea at high tide.\\nIt is but an open grassy field, containing a\\ngroup of large willows, a few gnarled old apple\\nand cherry trees, half-a-dozen defunct cannon\\nwith their noses in the ground, and two living\\nones with their noses suspiciously sniffing the\\nair of the quiet Basin.\\nBut there is a charm about it that makes one\\ngo again and again, go and lie on the grass in\\nthe warmth of the sun or the shade of the wil-\\nlows, and look off over the beautiful Annapolis\\nBasin with its one narrow, high-walled entrance\\nat Digby Gut.\\nPerhaps, as you lie thus, the scattered fisher-\\nmen s houses on the other shore fade from\\nsight and the vessels in the Basin melt away,\\nleaving rock and water and dark evergreen\\nforest in possession. Then, perhaps, two small\\nships, which are not fishing schooners nor any\\ncraft that sail these waters to-day, come sailing\\nthrough the Digby Gut. The men on their\\ndecks are wary and eager. Where Digby lies\\n2 17", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0039.jp2"}, "40": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nthey see no town, only the scarred rock that\\nholds back the mighty tides, the long grass-\\ngrown terrace where a town will one day lie,\\na town of aliens, the hill behind grown thick\\nwith firs these are all that greet their eager\\neyes, and their two little ships sail on into the\\nlovely land-locked Basin.\\nYou know them well. They are the French,\\nwho scarcely three hundred years ago ventured\\nacross the broad Atlantic in those little ships\\nof theirs. Through Digby Gut they came one\\nfair spring morning, the first white men whose\\neyes had rested on those shores. In they\\ncame, the advance guard of civilisation to a\\nnew piece of the world.\\nThe little ships sail up the Basin and out of\\nsight behind a wooded island.\\nSo much for the dream on Cannon Field.\\nYou rub your eyes and look about you. The\\nBasin is dotted over with boats the town of\\nDigby lies on the slopes behind you. British\\nguns point down the Basin in the direction the\\ntwo little ships have gone. But they are safe.\\nThey sailed behind that island almost three\\nhundred years ago. The British guns cannot\\ntouch them nor can aught destroy them they", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0040.jp2"}, "41": {"fulltext": "Cannon Field\\nare immortal, preserved in the history of three\\ngreat nations.\\nPerhaps the tall old apple-trees on Cannon\\nField were placed there long ago by French\\nhands. They are very un-American apple-\\ntrees indeed, and one is inclined to question\\ntheir title to be called apple-trees at all, until\\namong their scattered leaves are discovered\\nunequivocal if not tempting apples.\\nAt the foot of the bluff is the deep sea basin\\nwhere the water rises and falls from twenty-\\neight to thirty feet, twice each day. But one\\ndoes not realise the magnitude of the tides at\\nthis point. One does not realise it at all at\\nfirst. The flowing of the tide is fast but\\ngradual the mighty basin fills, fills, until the\\ntall pier is an ordinary wharf, with no hint of\\na hole in its side, and a broad sheet of water\\nsmiles and sparkles in the sun.\\nThrough the Gut the tides come racing with\\nfrightful velocity, making the smaller boats\\nwatchful about entering, but once inside, the\\nwaters spread without much commotion and\\nfill the great Basin to its brim.\\nSwiftly but gradually the waters subside, the\\npier grows tall, long points of shining gravel\\n19", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0041.jp2"}, "42": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nreach out into the water. With its seaweed-\\npainted rocks, its purple shining sands, its\\nbared weirs, the coast is much more pictur-\\nesque, though less impressive, at low tide.\\nCannon Field is a place to dream in. Ro-\\nmance and history have woven their bright\\nfabrics before its very eyes. A remnant of\\nthose Indians who fill our histories in that\\nconfusing chapter known as the French and\\nIndian Wars have their tents to the right as\\none faces the village, at the end of a little\\ngreen lane that borders on Cannon Field.\\nThey are not there for scalps this bright sum-\\nmer day, but for bits of the white man s magic\\nsilver, which they hope to get in exchange for\\nthe baskets and moccasins they have woven\\nand worked upon through the long winter.\\nThere is a pappoose in one of the tents\\nwhich the American ladies, with a unanim-\\nity in humour which one hopes is not national,\\nall inquire the price of.\\nDigby houses are as ugly as two-story\\nwooden cottages, with narrow facades and\\nsteep roofs, must be, and they also possess\\nthe inartistic virtues of cleanliness and new\\npaint. Few Digby houses go to ruin for lack", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0042.jp2"}, "43": {"fulltext": "Cannon Field\\nof paint consequently the town has a very new\\nlook, and presents a thrifty and well-to-do ap-\\npearance as exasperating to the artist as it is\\ndoubtless gratifying to the inhabitant. But\\nthese objectionable dwellings are in part re-\\ndeemed by their flower-gardens.\\nFish-flakes and flowers can do much for a\\nplace, be it never so ugly, and in Digby there\\nare flowers everyv/here. The people have a\\npretty way of putting them wherever there is\\na place to hold them. One sees pots of\\nblooming plants in the cellar windows on the\\nmain street, where the houses add to their\\nother crimes .against good taste that of open-\\ning directly upon the sidewalk. Flower-pots\\nstand on brackets on the side of the house and\\noften bank up two sides of the little extended\\nentry-way.\\nIt is pleasant to enter a house between walls\\nof flowers, and it is pleasant to stop before the\\nyards and interview the tangles of poppies and\\npinks and all sorts of bright and spicy flower-\\nfolk that do congregate in those places.\\nDigby flowers appear to grow for the mere\\njoy of it, they are so bright and spicy, and\\ncrowd out the weeds with such vigour, some-\\n21", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0043.jp2"}, "44": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\ntimes overflowing the garden and straggling\\nout to the roadside. They remind one of\\nCelia Thaxter s flowers at the light-house on\\nthe Isles of Shoals, seeming to have the same\\nqualities of brilliancy and fragrance.\\nA house without flowers is the rare excep-\\ntion in Digby. They give character to the\\nplace and rob the cheap frame buildings of\\nhalf their ugliness, and occasionally they make\\none charming. There is a delightful old gar-\\nden almost surrounding a tiny house, facing\\nCannon Field. The house itself is covered\\nwith vines which are vastly more becoming\\nthan paint, and into the garden seem to have\\ncome all the sweet old-fashioned posies from\\nlong ago to now.\\nIt is a pleasure to saunter over from Can-\\nnon Field and lean on the low fence, behind\\nwhich is such profusion of bloom. The back\\nyard, too, is a flower-garden, sharing the pre-\\ncious soil with the plum-trees and gooseberry\\nbushes.\\nIf fruits and vegetables were to flourish in\\nDigby soil as the flowers do, the cod would\\nhave a formidable rival, but the stern earth\\nyields its juices freely to only the coaxing root-\\n22", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0044.jp2"}, "45": {"fulltext": "Cannon Field\\nlets of its favourites, the flowers, and the people\\nhave to send elsewhere for their cabbages.\\nWe thank the earth for this fish-flakes and\\nflowers belong to Digby cabbages belong\\nto anybody.\\nDigby has cherries, however. The place is\\nfull of gnarled old trees, and there are orchards\\nof them in the country round about.\\nIf Digby had picturesque houses, it would be\\nalmost too charming a spot for the visitor. It\\nhas two or three. They are to be found\\non the Racquet, an inlet running in along one\\nside of the town. They are little gray, wide-\\nroofed, old fisherman s houses, guiltless of paint\\nand very much the worse for wear. Digby no\\ndoubt is ashamed of them, and they must be\\nvery uncomfortable to live in, but with their\\ntall hollyhocks, their clustering fish-flakes, the\\nbackground of water, and the distant mountain-\\ntop, they make distracting pictures.\\nBehind them are the wharves where the fish-\\ning-schooners come in to leave their burdens\\nof cod. The ships sail up the Racquet in gal-\\nlant style. It is a pretty sheet of water, with\\nits curving shore-line and its background of\\nBeaman s Mountain and one never would sus-\\n23", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0045.jp2"}, "46": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\npect, after watching the laden vessels enter,\\nthat the haven they have sought is there for\\nbut a few hours at a time, by the grace of\\nNeptune.\\nThe Racquet, like many another bay along\\nthis coast, is a gift of the giant tides of Fundy.\\nWhen the tide goes out, the ships lie on their\\nkeels in the gravel, and the hard bed of the\\nRacquet becomes an excellent roadway for teams\\nthat wish to reach the other shore.\\nIn the morning one may cross the Racquet\\ndry-shod in the afternoon laden vessels will\\nsail over his footprints.\\nThere are no weirs in the Racquet but if\\none desire those fantastic forms, let him walk\\nto the farther end of the town through its one\\nlong street, and there he will come upon the\\nbroad and winding Joggin. It is another tidal\\nbasin, but the receding waters do not lay it\\nbare. Into it the fish come in shoals with the\\ncoming of the water, but at the going out of\\nthe water they remain, for the weirs have their\\nlong arms about them.\\nThese weirs are distinguished among their\\nkind by their simplicity. The fisherman does\\nnot lavish costly nets upon them, as is the case\\n24", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0046.jp2"}, "47": {"fulltext": "Cannon Field\\nalong the New England shore. He simply\\ndrives poles close together into the mud at low\\ntide, about them weaves the pliant branches of\\ntrees in and out into a rude network, and to\\nthe top of the poles ties brushwood to mark\\nthe place of the weirs at high tide.\\nThese primitive fish-snares seem to have no\\ndefinite form, but straggle about here, there, and\\neverywhere and the Joggin, with its purple\\nsands and grassy banks and its weirs trailing\\nreflections in the water, is a place one loves to\\nrecall.\\nIt is a gratification to be able to chronicle\\nthe fact that in addition to her other virtues\\nsimple Digby is still in the ox-cart period.\\nAnd this, despite the Flying Bluenose that\\ndaily goes shrieking over the rails that have\\nbeen laid in her streets. It is oxen that unload\\nthe vessels and do the hard work on the roads,\\nand oxen that bring the country people to\\ntown.\\nOxen exhale a pastoral something that affects\\nall their neighbourhood. Go gee-hawing\\ndown Broadway with a yoke of oxen attached\\nto a broad-tired cart, and New York herself\\nwould remember the days of her childhood,\\n25", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0047.jp2"}, "48": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nwhen Canal Street deserved its name even\\nmore than at present, when the buxom milk-\\nmaid filled her foaming pail in the Bowery.\\nDigby is a clean, wind-blown, beflowered, and\\nbeflaked little fishing village, but when along\\nher streets the ox-carts go rumbling and sham-\\nbling, she becomes something more she has a\\npart in the fields and the grassy lanes as well\\nas in the salt sea.\\nDigby oxen have none of the coyness and\\nhead-turnings common to their American\\nkindred. They are apparently as unconcerned\\nand stolid at the approach of a stranger as was\\nthe blind starfish in the cavern under the wharf\\nThey turn their heads neither to the right nor\\nto the left when in the yoke, but face front as\\nunswervingly as if on military parade. Their\\neyes, which roll in the direction of the one\\napproaching, alone betray the curiosity natural\\nto their race. They have an un-oxlike dig-\\nnity and precision of movement, which is\\nrather impressive, and which is not wholly\\nowing to the superior character of Nova Scotia\\ncattle, for their ingenious masters have placed\\nthe yoke upon their heads instead of about\\ntheir necks.\\n26", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0048.jp2"}, "49": {"fulltext": "Cannon Field\\nA broad bar of wood lies across the necks\\njust behind the horns about which it fits closely.\\nIt is held in place by strong leather straps bound\\ntightly across the foreheads just below the\\nhorns. When oxen are thus yoked, their\\nheads are almost as immovable as if held in\\na vise. The tongue of the cart, which is at-\\ntached to the bar between the oxen, is held\\nvery high, on a level with or even higher than\\nthe eyes. It is amusing to see this head-gear\\nadjusted. In order sufficiently to tighten the\\nstraps, the man must have some point of re-\\nsistance, and this he finds in the face of the ox\\nhimself. He braces his knee against the broad\\nand kindly front of his comrade and lies back\\non the strap with all his weight. The ox blinks\\ncalmly on and says not a word. In spite of\\nhis queer head-gear the Nova Scotia ox an-\\nswers to the same lingo as does his Ameri-\\ncan brother, and the familiar gee, haw,\\nback, g long, may be heard mingling with\\nthe tinkle of his bell any hour of the day in\\nDigby.\\nFor each ox has his bell. It is an agreeable\\nbell with a pleasant tinkle-tankle, and rather\\nan expensive luxury, a pair of bells and their\\n27", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0049.jp2"}, "50": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nstraps costing three dollars and a half, so the\\nowner of an ox told us.\\nThe Digby ox has not quite bells on his\\nfingers and rings on his toes, by which he\\nmakes music wherever he goes, as was the\\ncase with the young person in the nursery\\nrhyme, but he has a bell on his neck and a\\nlittle metal shoe on each of his toes, by which\\nhe makes as good music wandering about the\\nstony byways in his hours of freedom as one\\nfrequently hears from more elaborate instru-\\nments. At least, it is never out of time or out\\nof tune.\\nOne need not fear meeting our friend, for he\\nis the gentlest ox in the world much hand-\\nling has made him that. He has lost the tra-\\ndition of horns as weapons, and looks upon\\nthem only as a convenience for moving heavy\\nloads for other people.\\nBesides the ox-teams there are the horses\\ndrawing their low-swung trucks. If the Nova\\nScotian has invented his head yoke, he has cer-\\ntainly borrowed his truck from his brother the\\nAmerican, or is it vice versa for it is the\\nsame convenient means of transportation the\\nCape Cod man employs. The bottom of\\n28", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0050.jp2"}, "51": {"fulltext": "Ox WITH Head Yoke", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0051.jp2"}, "52": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0052.jp2"}, "53": {"fulltext": "Cannon Field\\nthe cart is so swung from the hubs that it is\\nonly four or five inches from the ground, sav-\\ning a great deal of strength, one should think,\\nin loading and unloading. One wonders why\\nthe Yankee has not made more use of this\\nidea, and why one does not see it in the flat\\nprairie towns of the West.\\nWhat is the law that decrees certain imple-\\nments and customs to be retained within cer-\\ntain limits Why does the farmer in one\\nRhode Island county rake his hay as his fore-\\nfathers were wont, and in three adjoining ones\\ngather it speedily by means of a long rope\\nWhy does the low-swung truck, local to Cape\\nCod, crop out again in Nova Scotia\\nThere is a tremendous vis inertia in human\\naffairs that preserves the individuality of places\\nin spite of the levelling power of the new\\ncivilisation. Blessings on it Long may\\nit preserve Digby s dusty fish-flakes and her\\nmihtary oxen with their tinkling bells\\nIt would not do to leave Digby without\\nmaking the acquaintance of the famous Digby\\nchickens. These are not feathered bipeds, but\\ngood red herrings. They are large and oily,\\nand their smoked skins are a beautiful golden\\n29", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0053.jp2"}, "54": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nbronze, played over by bright, iridescent hues.\\nTo give an idea of these when properly kip-\\npered would excite useless envy in the hearts\\nof all who grasped the idea. These favoured\\nfish are called Digby angels in other towns\\nof Nova Scotia, but it is to be feared this is\\ndue to a spirit of mockery engendered by\\njealousy.\\nReluctantly we prepared to leave Digby, and\\none morning found ourselves on the Flying\\nBluenose, and speeding along the Annapolis\\nBasin in the direction the two little ships had\\nsailed so long ago.\\nBluenose in Nova Scotia is equivalent to\\nYankee in New England. The derivation of\\nYankee is uncertain, nobody knows exactly\\nwhere it came from, nor who invented and first\\napplied it consequently there is a pleasant mys-\\ntery about it which enables us to forget its\\nplebeian sound and even to feel proud of any\\nclaim to the title.\\nBut there is no reclaiming haze of mystery\\nabout the meaning of Bluenose, though the\\nBluenoses themselves are frequently unable,\\nor possibly ashamed, to explain it. One old\\nwoman told us it came from the Flying\\n30", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0054.jp2"}, "55": {"fulltext": "Cannon Field\\nBluenose. But her daughter explained, look-\\ning askance at us, as though to make sure we\\nwere serious in our desire for information,\\nYou ought to see us in November\\nIt seems there is a Flying Yankee train\\non the American side and Nova Scotia, not\\nto be outdone by them Yanks, started the\\nFlying Bluenose on her side, which was not\\nstrictly original, though it is considered com-\\nmendable, as the Flying Bluenose is a very\\ngood express train, running all the way from\\nYarmouth, on the western point of Nova Scotia,\\nto Halifax, a couple of hundred miles away as\\nthe road runs.\\nNext to originality is the power to know a\\ngood thing when it is seen, and then to imi-\\ntate it.\\nThe Flying Bluenose crossed the high\\nbridge just out of Digby and bore us toward\\none of the most interesting historic spots in\\nNorth America.\\nIt is the spot where the two French ships\\ncame to anchor, bringing the first white settlers\\nto a new world. The place is called Annapolis\\nnow, though at its founding in 1605 it bore\\nthe name of Port Royal, and is, as every one\\n31", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0055.jp2"}, "56": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nknows, next to St. Augustine the oldest Euro-\\npean settlement in North America. It seemed\\na pity to go hurrying by it when we saw the\\nlovely meadows sloping to the town, their yel-\\nlows, greens, browns, and reds mingling in a\\nhalf summer, half autumn mood.\\nThe grass-grown earthworks were inviting,\\ntoo, and the old gray stone magazine standing\\nin the centre gave an air of antiquity to the\\nplace. The water was out, and the red and\\nbrown sands on the shores of the Annapolis\\nBasin lay exposed, adding their charm of colour\\nto the scene.\\nBut we were to see no more of Annapolis\\nthan the glimpse from the train. M. was\\nafraid to. She wished to preserve the romance\\nand mystery with which her imagination had\\nenveloped it and having recently lost the life-\\nlong mystery of the Bay of Fundy by too\\ngreat familiarity with that cheery and in no\\nway mysterious body of water, she felt that\\nshe could not afford the risk of depleting\\nthe storehouse of her imagination any farther\\nat present.\\nSo we went on, imagining Port Royal as it\\nwas when in possession of the French, smoking\\n32", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0056.jp2"}, "57": {"fulltext": "Cannon Field\\ntheir lobster-claw pipes and in spite of their\\nprecarious tenure of home and life in a country\\nof savages, revelling through that winter of\\nlong ago and instituting the Order of the Good\\nTime. They had their fun, but it did not last,\\nfor enemies in the mother country as well as\\nfrom abroad quickly shifted the actors from one\\nscene to another and out of the confusion of\\nthe times there stands clearly but one poetic\\nform, that of a woman, Madame La Tour.\\nPerhaps she does not belong specially to Port\\nRoyal, but she does belong to the history of\\nthat time and by her heroic deeds has earned\\na place in the memory of man, a place which\\nwill be recognised when her poet arises to sing\\nher into fame. She stands waiting, a dim fig-\\nure, for the Longfellow who shall take her by\\nthe hand and place her glowing in the eyes and\\nthe hearts of the people.\\nThe Annapolis River, which enters the head\\nof the Basin, owes the greater part of its vol-\\nume to the tide- water. Its channel is deep and\\ngullied, as seen at low tide, and its banks are\\ncomposed of sleek, shining mud that, half the\\ntime uncovered, yet never has time to dry. As\\nwe follow its course we see the ships lying\\n3 ZZ", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0057.jp2"}, "58": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nhigh up on the mud banks, miles from water\\nenough to float them.\\nOne dropping suddenly down upon this\\nstrange sight might well wonder if the days of\\nmagic were gone, or if this withdrawal of the\\nwaters was a freak of some revengeful gnome.\\nA few hours, however, redeems the river. In-\\ncredible as it seems, the water comes hastening\\nin, up the long miles, until the deep gullies are\\nfull rivers and the ships are afloat and able to\\nsail wherever they choose.\\nAs one follows up the Annapolis Valley,\\nNorth Mountain stretches its long low range\\nagainst the sky at the left, while South Moun-\\ntain runs parallel to it, but lower and more\\nbroken, at the right.\\nThe Annapolis Basin lies long and narrow\\nbetween the two low mountain ranges, and at\\nits head receives the Annapolis River, which\\nflows through the northern part of the valley,\\nits course extending in the same general direc-\\ntion as that of the Basin, making the latter\\nseem like a sudden expansion of the river.\\nAs we finally left the river we passed over\\nthe low water-shed that separates the Annapolis\\nfrom the Cornwallis Valley. The Annapolis\\n34", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0058.jp2"}, "59": {"fulltext": "Cannon Field\\nRiver flows to the southwest, the rivers of\\nthe Cornwallis Valley to the northeast.\\nAs we crossed the water-shed we entered a\\nnew world of history and romance. The con-\\nfused events that cluster about Port Royal gave\\nway to the simple peace of the Acadians, that\\nsense of peace which even their sad expulsion\\ncannot quite drive from our hearts.\\nAs we crossed that little rise of ground we\\nneared the dike-lands of the Acadians and the\\nhome of Evangeline.\\n35", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0059.jp2"}, "60": {"fulltext": "Ill\\nACADIA\\nACADIA is the original French name\\nfor Nova Scotia. It is said to come\\nfrom the Indian cadie or kadi, which\\nmeans abounding in, and is often\\nfound as an affix in the names of places, as, for\\ninstance, Shubenacadie, abounding in ground-\\nnuts, and the euphonious and simple Ap-\\nchechkumoochwakadi, abounding in black\\nducks.\\nWhile Acadia was in a general way\\napplied to the whole of Nova Scotia, to\\nmost minds it now has a more restricted\\nmeaning.\\nWe think of it as that Utopia where Long-\\nfellow s Evangeline lived and loved, and whence\\nher people were driven forth. It is a land of\\npoetry, reclaimed from the sea by the dikes of\\nthe old Acadian farmers, and by the traveller is\\nlooked for in what is known as the Cornwallis\\nValley.\\nPoetry often vanishes in the presence of the\\nreality, and one s first thought upon entering\\n36", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0060.jp2"}, "61": {"fulltext": "Acadia\\nthe Cornwallis Valley is very likely of the im-\\nproved appearance of the apples, for along the\\nline of the railroad they are small and unin-\\nviting, until the obscure line of water-shed that\\nseparates the Annapolis and Cornwallis Valleys\\nhas been crossed, when a notable change for\\nthe better comes over the orchards.\\nIt was a pleasant, pastoral land through\\nwhich the Flying Bluenose hurried us, but\\nfor some distance there was nothing remarkable\\nabout it, for we noticed no dikes until we\\nchanged cars at Kentville and were bounced\\nalong the little branch road that leads to Kings-\\nport, which is situated on Minas Basin.\\nV^e did not go as far as Kingsport at this\\ntime, however, but stopped a mile short of there\\nat Canning, a small village with its one long\\nstreet lined on the river-side by straggling\\nshops of a moribund aspect. Large trees and\\nample dooryards give Canning a pleasant and\\nhome-like look, and at the rear of the shops\\nthe Habitant River rolls restlessly back and\\nforth.\\nThe Habitant is a tidal stream, all that is\\nleft of a once mighty flood that brought large\\nships to Canning s wharves. Where once the\\n37", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0061.jp2"}, "62": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nwaters spread are level plains of great fertility,\\nfor the spade of the dike-maker has been at\\nwork, and the chastened Habitant is now a\\nnarrow stream, its winding course bordered by\\na narrow green embankment that in the dis-\\ntance looks like a line of raised embroidery\\ntraversing some gigantic pattern. Beyond the\\nHabitant lie the reclaimed meadow-lands now\\ndotted with haystacks.\\nBeyond the meadows is a lovely stretch of\\nhighlands, the termination of South Mountain.\\nThis was our first view of the dike-lands, and\\nit took some time to realise the magnitude of\\nwhat has been accomplished. In fact, it cannot\\nbe understood at this point.\\nThe Habitant is a deep gully of red and\\nshining mud as we saw it at low tide. Two\\nor three small sail-boats were lying up high\\nand dry on its rim. There was but a thread\\nof muddy water stealing seaward, along the\\nbottom of the gully, soon to be met and\\nturned back by the incoming tide of Minas\\nBasin, that twice every day fills the doomed\\nHabitant, at its departure leaving another\\nlayer of the red ooze which is slowly but\\nsurely obliterating the channel of the river.\\n38", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0062.jp2"}, "63": {"fulltext": "u", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0063.jp2"}, "64": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0064.jp2"}, "65": {"fulltext": "Acadia\\nFour miles from Canning, on a commanding\\nspur of North Mountain, is an open space\\ncalled Look Off. This is one of the best\\npoints from which to view the dike-lands, and\\nthither we went one fair day.\\nNorth Mountain nowhere attains an alti-\\ntude of more than six hundred feet, which\\nscarcely entitles it to the name of mountain.\\nYet the view from Look Off is more impres-\\nsive than many a scene beheld from a higher\\npoint.\\nNorth Mountain rises abruptly from the\\nplain, so that the wide vista of the Cornwallis\\nValley lay a vast, fair scene before us. We\\nlooked down upon the far-reaching dike-lands\\nof the old Acadian farmers, the scene of the\\ntragedy and romance of their lives, the fair\\nmeadows they had stolen bit by bit from the\\nsea an imperishable memorial of their labors.\\nMinas Basin, like the beautiful Annapolis\\nBasin, is an inlet from the Bay of Fundy. It\\nforms the northern boundary to the Cornwallis\\nValley and as the tides come in, higher even\\nthan those in the Annapolis Basin, they flood\\nthe low lands and race up the river channels\\nfor many miles.\\n39", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0065.jp2"}, "66": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nThree tidal rivers traverse the length of the\\nCornwallis Valley, the Habitant, which was\\nthe nearest to us, and was seen here and there\\nlike a ribbon of silver the Canard, of which\\nwe could catch glimpses and the Cornwallis,\\nfarthest away and largest of all, from which\\nthe whole valley gets its name.\\nThese rivers empty into a wide bay or lagoon\\nthat encroaches upon the northern border of\\nthe Cornwallis Valley. At high tide this bay\\nis a sheet of water at low tide the red sands\\nare bare half-way to Minas, and are interspersed\\nwith blue pools and interrupted by the shining\\nmouths of the three rivers that wind down to\\nthe sea.\\nThe channels of the rivers are deep and nar-\\nrow, and wherever they go through the fertile\\nvalley the patient dikes accompany them,\\nwinding and turning with the winding and\\nturning of the rivers, unbroken banks of green\\ngrass, frail enough to look at when one thinks\\nof their mission, yet trusted sentinels to keep\\nback the water until even Fundy s mighty rush\\nhas been conquered, and the diked rivers are\\nslowly being silted full and themselves help to\\nform a barrier against the incoming tides.\\n40", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0066.jp2"}, "67": {"fulltext": "Acadia\\nMuch of the northern part of the CornwalHs\\nValley, which for many miles is mostly low-\\nland, and was originally salt marsh, has been\\nreclaimed from the sea, and in many places the\\nfarm-land still lies below high-water mark.\\nThe reclaimed land has not been the work\\nof a moment nor of a generation. The valley\\nwe see to-day is not the valley the Acadians\\nfirst looked upon, nor yet the valley from\\nwhich they were finally expelled. Their suc-\\ncessors have as steadily plied the diking spade\\nas they did themselves, and the work of re-\\nclaiming new land is still going on wherever\\nopportunity offers. The breaking of a dike\\nmeans inundation and devastation to the land\\nwith a loss of two or three years crops, as it\\ntakes the earth that long to recover from the\\ntaste of the salt water.\\nStanding on Look Off we saw the general\\noutlines of the valley as it is to-day, and saw,\\ntoo, in a large way, the method of its emer-\\ngence from the bottom of the sea. For winding\\nhere and there were gently rounded gullies\\ndown which now ran streams of trees and\\nbushes, but which once were water-courses\\nwhere the retreating tides drained back to\\n41", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0067.jp2"}, "68": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nMinas. Little by little the dikes encroached\\nupon the sea, cutting off first one, then another\\nof these tidal streams, until only their forms\\nare now left to tell the story of what they\\nonce were.\\nThe Cornwallis Valley was aglow with\\ncolour the day we saw it from Look Off,\\nyellow stubble of oats and barley mingled with\\npatches of bright red and of vivid green where\\nvegetables were growing, while apple orchards\\neverywhere lent their dark green, and clumps\\nof firs added their black to the scene.\\nScattered about were villages nearly hidden\\nby trees, while detached houses looked like toys\\nin the fields. Canning s spires showed over\\nher tree-tops, and Kingsport lay in full view\\non the shore of Minas Basin.\\nIn the distance, beyond the shine of the\\nCornwallis River, lay Grand Pre, the scene of\\nthe Great Expulsion, the home of Evangeline,\\nthe central point of interest for all that region.\\nWe looked at the blur on the distant hillside\\nwhich we were told was Grand Pre, with a rush\\nof emotion. For a moment the poetry and\\nromance of the past replaced the prose of the\\npresent. But our thoughts soon returned to\\n42", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0068.jp2"}, "69": {"fulltext": "Acadia\\nthe actual scene before us the opening of the\\nfive rivers was a fairy picture, so dainty was\\nthe blue and green of the water against the\\nfaint red sands.\\nFor the three tidal rivers are not all the\\nrivers we see from our high place. From\\nbehind a long point of land in the distance\\nover by Grand Pre shines the silvery mouth\\nof the Gaspereaux, which flows through a\\nvalley of the same name behind the high-\\nland that far away looks so blue, and the\\nbroad mouth of the Avon makes up like a\\nwide bay into the distant land.\\nAt our very feet is the valley of the Pereau.\\nBut where is the river Pereau It is where the\\nHabitant and the Canard will one day be\\nfor where once a tidal river guided the waters\\nback to the sea are now green meadows.\\nThe Pereau has been diked down to within\\nan inch of its life and within a mile of the sea.\\nThis broad little mile-long river has a pretty\\ncurved dike across its head. It cannot reach\\nabove the dike, and it can hardly reach to it,\\nfor this stern dike has not only cut off all\\nadvance, but is the cause of the filling in of\\nwhat little of the river is left. And one day\\n43", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0069.jp2"}, "70": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nthey will build a dike yet lower, and then\\nanother and another, until the Pereau River,\\nlike the Acadians themselves, will be but a\\nname. It is very pretty at the mouth of the\\nPereau. Red cliffs stand out in the water free\\nfrom the mainland, and what banks the river\\nhas left are steep and red.\\nThe shores of Minas are steep, and are evi-\\ndently the source from which the dike-lands\\nhave received their fertile soil. The red rocks\\nof the coast have been reduced by the irresist-\\nible force of the water to the red mud of the\\nfields. The tide for ages has swept in, turbid\\nwith particles of the rocks it has ground to\\npowder, and as its waters drained slowly back\\nto the sea, red mud has been left on the plains\\nand in the rivers.\\nThere is talk of building a monster dike\\nacross the mouth of the lagoon into which the\\nthree tidal rivers empty, thus reclaiming a vast\\ntract of land at one effort. If this is done,\\ngood-bye to the Habitant, the Canard, and the\\nCornwallis. They would be in worse plight\\nthan the Pereau is now, for there would not\\nbe so much as a trace of their turbid tide-\\nwaters left. It would be a pity to obliterate\\n44", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0070.jp2"}, "71": {"fulltext": "Acadia\\nthese rivers. Queer gashes in the soil with\\ntheir streams constantly turned by the god-\\ndess who rules the tides, Acadia would not\\nbe Acadia without them.\\nThink of having to consult the almanac or\\nlook out of the window to see whether the\\nriver that flows through your town happens\\nto be running up stream or down, or not at\\nall Yet this is what the dweller in Acadia\\nmust do when he wishes to float his boat.\\nFortunately for the Habitant, the Canard,\\nand the CornwaUis, there is a good deal of\\nred tape involved in building a new dike, so\\nthey may breathe freely for yet a time. May\\nthey long continue to run uphill, then run\\ndown, then run dry, in their present agreeable\\nfashion Not all of them run dry, however\\nsome have a fresh-water stream of their own\\nand where this is the case they can never be\\ndiked wholly out of existence.\\nWe had noticed very little wild life of any\\nkind in Nova Scotia. Birds there may be in\\nthe spring, but at this time their forms were\\nseldom seen. The most noticeable creatures\\nwere small grasshoppers with large ideas of\\nthe value of noise. Each appeared to be pos-\\n45", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0071.jp2"}, "72": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nsessed of an indestructible pair of clappers\\nupon which it played a resounding rat-tat-tat\\nat short intervals. They started from under\\nour feet at Digby and fled from before us at\\nLook Off.\\nIt was some time before we could really\\nbelieve the loud and regular rattle came from\\nsuch tiny performers. We should have liked\\nto see them working their clappers, but could\\nnot catch them at it, nor catch them at all, they\\nwere so overloaded with suspicion, and when\\nwe were yet far away scurried off rat-tatting to\\nyet safer distances.\\nIt was on sunny Look Off that we made our\\nfirst and only acquaintance with Nova Scotia\\nbees. While lying on the ground we had\\nnoticed a distinct odour of honey, for which\\nwe could not account, as there were no flowers\\nnear.\\nAt first too full of the beauties of the Corn-\\nwallis Valley to see anything else, we finally\\nnoticed numbers of tiny gray gauzy-winged bees\\nflying about and hovering over the ground near\\nus. The ground was perforated in all direc-\\ntions with round holes into which here and there\\na bee disappeared, her hindmost legs laden with\\n46", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0072.jp2"}, "73": {"fulltext": "Acadia\\nballs of bright yellow pollen. It soon dawned\\nupon us that we were lying at our ease upon a\\ncolony of bees nests, a position more novel\\nthan assuring. The bees did not offer to sting\\nus, although we were sadly interfering with their\\ndomestic duties by covering up their holes.\\nAs soon as we realised the state of affairs, we\\ndeparted in as orderly a manner as was com-\\npatible with extreme haste. Curiosity, how-\\never, compelled us to dig out one of the holes.\\nThe little hole went down for some distance in\\na straight line and then turned and for an inch\\nor two ran parallel to the surface, then went\\ndown for a short distance in a slanting direc-\\ntion. About half-way down the long gallery,\\nwe dug out Madam Bee, very much flustered,\\nand overwhelmed with grief and indignation.\\nAt the termination to the gallery we found\\na mass of pollen about as large as a white bean\\nand enclosed in a glistening case, looking like\\na very delicate pupa case, and made, no doubt,\\nfrom a secretion from the bee s mouth. This\\nlittle object when crushed had a strong odour of\\nhoney and also a slight odour of cheese. Into\\nthis mass of nutriment the bee had doubtless\\ndeposited her egg. It must have taken a long\\n47", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0073.jp2"}, "74": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\ntime and a vast amount of hard work to dig\\nthat long gallery through the hard earth and\\ncollect that mass of pollen and honey bit by\\nbit from distant flowers.\\nAs we looked at the ruins of a once happy\\nhome, we felt the self-satisfied regret of the\\nconqueror at the discomfiture of the conquered.\\nThe self-control of the bees was remarkable.\\nThey flew about us in great excitement, but\\ntheir anger was not of that stinging nature which\\nmakes one so anxious to respect the privacy of\\nbees. One flew at M. and administered a\\nsharp admonitory rap on the cheek, but used\\nno more pointed argument.\\nThe Christian fortitude of these bees might\\nhave made us uncomfortably ashamed of our\\npart in the adventure, had it not occurred to us\\nin time that possibly the reason for their for-\\nbearance was not because they were good, but\\nbecause they were stingless.\\nThis thought recalled the picture of Hum-\\nboldt sitting on the mountain-side above\\nCaracas, where small hairy stingless bees crawled\\nover his hands. These bees were called\\nAngelitos by the natives; and we on North\\nMountain also met our Angelitos.\\n48", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0074.jp2"}, "75": {"fulltext": "IV\\nACADIA S CROPS\\nTHE people say, with as much mod-\\nesty as the statement allows, that the\\nland reclaimed from the sea is the\\nmost fertile in the world. One goes\\nthere, expecting he scarcely knows what in the\\nway of luxuriant vegetation, and is astonished\\nto find this remarkable fertility and endless\\nboasting devoted to hay\\nHay is no doubt a very good thing in its\\nway. Still, one does not expect to find it the\\nmain crop of the richest soil on earth, when,\\ntoo, that favoured soil is decidedly limited in\\nquantity. We were heretofore accustomed to\\nthink of hay as an agricultural product ob-\\ntained from the dooryards and fence corners\\nand a few hay-fields here and there where\\nthe land was not needed for more important\\ncrops.\\nThere are no wheat-fields in the Cornwallis\\nValley the people say they can raise wheat,\\nbut are full of excuses for not doing it. The\\n4 49", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0075.jp2"}, "76": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\ntruth is, wheat does not thrive as well as hay.\\nEvery effort was made to impress upon us the\\nmarvellous fertility of the soil expressed in\\nterms of hay. They told us they cut three\\ntons to the acre. But they might as well have\\nsaid thirty, such was our ignorance concerning\\nNova Scotia s favourite crop, and we neither\\nlooked nor were the least astonished. Our\\nindifference troubled them, and from the ques-\\ntions they asked we suspect they feared we\\nknew of a place in America where more\\nwas cut.\\nBefore we left the Cornwallis Valley, the\\nmists of our ignorance had been penetrated by\\nthe light of knowledge. In spite of ourselves\\nwe finally acquired a certain reverence for hay\\nand a proper appreciation of three tons to the\\nacre. M. was quickly reconciled to it because\\nthe stacks were so pretty, and the shorn\\nmeadow-land was lovely in the autumn land-\\nscape. It is not probable the people them-\\nselves consume hay but what do they do with\\nit For there are no flocks or herds to be\\nseen. And what else can they consume, when\\ntheir broad and fertile lands are broad and\\nfertile hay-fields Hay and apples\\n50", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0076.jp2"}, "77": {"fulltext": "Acadia s Crops\\nAcadia s crop was a fragrant one at least, and\\nif we could not at once appreciate three tons of\\nhay to the acre, we were able to grasp the\\nmeaning of a hundred barrels of apples to the\\nacre, which netted the farmer two dollars a\\nbarrel. That was better than raising oranges\\nin Florida. We happened to know something\\nabout the latter occupation, and for a moment\\ncoveted Nova Scotia s orchards in exchange\\nfor certain groves whose golden hopes had\\nnever blossomed into realities.\\nIt was something of a comfort to know the\\nCornwallis Valley apple-trees require almost as\\nmuch petting as Florida oranges, that they\\nare subject to disease and parasite and have to\\nbe scrubbed and scraped, and, for all we know\\nto the contrary, sprayed occasionally.\\nIt had always seemed to us as though apple-\\ntrees happened, as though they grew by some\\nspecial law of their own and asked nothing of\\nman but room to stand in. But this is not so.\\nIf man wants fair apples, he must needs look\\nto his trees.\\nThe apple-trees of Acadia are not the gnarled\\nand delightful friends of our New England\\nchildhood. They have regular rounded crowns,\\n51", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0077.jp2"}, "78": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nand, in spite of some wilful turnings of tough\\nlimbs, are on the whole rather conventional\\nand strait-laced apple-trees.\\nThe orchards have something of the regu-\\nlarity which so displeases at one s first sight\\nof an orange grove. But the orchards are\\nmore picturesque than the groves, because an\\napple-tree, no matter how well bred, never can\\nescape a touch of wilfulness.\\nUsually apple-trees growing near the sea\\ndepart very decidedly from the inland form.\\nOn the more exposed parts of Cape Cod, for\\ninstance, where they can be persuaded to grow\\nat all, they act in a most grotesque manner.\\nAs if afraid to raise their heads for fear of\\nhaving them blown off, they branch out close\\nto the ground, and sometimes have a crown as\\nbroad as an ordinary full-grown tree and a\\ntrunk only a few inches in height.\\nOthers, as if trying to get above the winds,\\nor as if their fibres had been drawn out by\\nthem, grow tall and narrow with a crown that\\noften leans away from the prevailing winds.\\nThese are the sort that make certain parts of\\nRhode Island so picturesque.\\nBut the Nova Scotia apple-trees keep to", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0078.jp2"}, "79": {"fulltext": "Acadia s Crops\\ntheir ancestral form as a rule, though we did\\nsee some orchards not far from Minas, where\\nthe crowns had turned over in defiance of law\\nand order, until the branches on the lower\\nside touched the ground. It gave them a\\nrakish air, as though they had their hats\\ncocked on one side, and made them look\\nvery jolly.\\nApples were not ripe when we were among\\nthe orchards, but they were nearly grown, and\\nshowed what they would become. Either it\\npays as well to care for apple-trees as for any-\\nthing else, or Nova Scotia apples are, if not,\\nas their owners modestly claim, the very best\\napples in the world, yet very fine apples in-\\ndeed. For, as we noticed when first seeing\\nthem, they are fair, well formed, and uniform\\nin size. One almost never sees a gnarled or\\nspotted apple on these trees.\\nThe apples themselves are hard and crisp,\\nas though they knew a thing or two, and felt\\nthe responsibihty of preparing themselves for\\na trip to London, or to the West Indies,\\nwhere they find their market. They retain\\ntheir crispness when ripe, and are juicy and\\ngood in flavour, as we had opportunity to dis-\\nss", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0079.jp2"}, "80": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\ncover later. They command higher prices at\\nhome than abroad at least we bought them in\\nBaddeck at the rate of six dollars a barrel.\\nThe Nova Scotians complain that they can-\\nnot get good apples because the best are sent\\nto England. Discrimination against home\\nconsumers and in favour of foreign markets is\\nnot peculiar to Nova Scotia, however. One\\nhears the same story the world over wherever\\nthe commodities of a place are exported.\\nWe recall the apology of a Florida Cracker\\nfrom whom we tried to buy some early vege-\\ntables: We have none that are fit to eat.\\nWe shipped all the best. All that we could n t\\nship we fed to the pigs, and what the pigs\\nwould n t eat we ate ourselves.\\nLondon pays well where apples are good, but\\ndoes not take her fruit upon faith even from\\nher loyal provinces, as a certain farmer learned\\nto his cost. The story goes that he shipped\\nhis apples as they grew, best and poorest to-\\ngether, but by some chance the best were on\\ntop. In London each barrel was tested,\\nclear to the bottom^ and all of his were rejected.\\nThus he lost his whole crop plus the cost of\\ntransportation, a calamity which ruined him\\n54", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0080.jp2"}, "81": {"fulltext": "Acadia s Crops\\npast recovery. We were very sorry to hear\\nsuch a story of an Acadian farmer.\\nKingsport is only one mile from Canning.\\nIt is on Minas Basin and is the port whence\\nmany of the Cornwallis Valley apples are\\nshipped.\\nPotatoes are also shipped from here in large\\nquantities, and the Cornwallis Valley farmer, we\\nwere told, is the aristocrat of the Lower Prov-\\ninces. His neighbours accuse him of having\\ngrown lazy under prosperity, and pretend to\\nlook scornfully upon his sloth, though one\\nsuspects this attitude is but the cloak to a\\nsecret envy.\\nApples and potatoes do come easy in the\\nCornwallis Valley, and the necessity for work\\nis the cause of work the world over, still, we\\nhave seen lazier people In our travels than the\\nCornwallis Valley farmers.\\nNaturally the people in this part of the\\ncountry do not look with favour upon annexa-\\ntion. They say, Look at the American\\nfarmer, then look at us One does not Hke\\nto look at the American farmer and then look\\nat them.\\nThe farmer here is the man of the com-\\n55", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0081.jp2"}, "82": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nmunity, he is rich, in a mild way, and he\\nis sure of a comfortable living from his well-\\ntilled acres. He feeds the rest of the world,\\nand in return is allowed enough to eat himself.\\nIn the towns, we are told, it is different.\\nThe struggle there is severe, and the people\\ndo not look with disfavour upon annexation.\\nThey have a sort of undefined feeling that an-\\nnexation would somehow turn the stream of\\nthe farmer s prosperity into the coffers of the\\ntownspeople. It is very likely it would.\\nKingsport is a convenient place from which\\nto visit Parrsboro, on the other shore of Minas,\\nas a boat runs between the two places.\\nIt is a pity to cut the Acadian country in\\ntwo by interpolating Parrsboro between the\\nregion about Canning and the Grand Pre\\nportion, but it is very much the easier way.\\nAs the narrator, however, is not, like the trav-\\neller, influenced by considerations of time or of\\ncost, Parrsboro shall wait its turn, and Grand\\nPre stand where it belongs geographically and\\nhistorically.\\nS6", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0082.jp2"}, "83": {"fulltext": "V\\nGRAND PRfi\\nWAS it an accident, or the kindly-\\nguidance of the Spirit of Romance\\nthat led us to enter Grand Pre on\\nthe fifth of September, the very date\\nof the expulsion of the Acadians\\nGrand Pre lies on a hillside overlooking the\\nCornwallis Valley, but on the opposite side of\\nthe valley from North Mountain and the\\nLook Off. From it one sees Canning and\\nKentville in the distance, where they lie in\\ntheir meadows between it and North Mountain.\\nIt is a small and quiet village as one sees it\\nto-day, its houses still stretching down one\\nlong street, as was probably the fashion of\\ntimes gone by, when Grand Pre was the home\\nof the Acadians and the thatched roofs of the\\nfarmhouses straggled from the Grand Pre of\\nto-day to Horton s Landing on Minas shore,\\na mile or more away.\\nThe houses now are less picturesque than\\nthe Acadian homes, for their roofs are not\\nthatched, and they do not depart often enough\\n57", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0083.jp2"}, "84": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nfrom the prim and painted Digby type to make\\nthe village as attractive as it might be. Still,\\nthe houses here are, on the whole, better than\\nany we have yet seen, and there is many a\\ncharming sketch to be found in this, the\\nmost famous spot in the Lower Provinces, or\\nfor that matter in all Canada, for nowhere else\\nin British America have history and poetry\\ncombined in so wonderful a manner to roman-\\nticise a place.\\nOn a high hill at the edge of the village is\\na comfortable inn, once a charming old house\\nwith a quaint doorway, but now obscured and\\nvulgarised by a new addition which has noth-\\ning to recommend it but its internal comfort\\nand the unparalleled views from its many\\nwindows.\\nFrom this hill-top the Cornwallis Valley is\\nseen stretching into the far distance, a vision\\nof beauty, as it lies with the changing light on\\nits distant meadows and its salt marshes glow-\\ning with rich colour. For not all the marsh-\\nland has been reclaimed there still are broad\\nreaches of exquisite beauty, to delight the eye\\nand tempt the farmer of the future to new\\nreclamations.\\nS8", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0084.jp2"}, "85": {"fulltext": "Grand Pre\\nAt one s feet lie those broad meadows of\\nGrand Pre, for from these prairies the place\\nderived its name. Far away shine the spires\\nof the village churches.\\nBeyond the valley and the villages is the\\nwall of North Mountain, stopping abruptly at\\nMinas deep waters, its bold front of Blomidon\\ndefying the rushing tides.\\nMinas Basin with its surging waters lies\\nblue in the distance, deceptively smiling and\\npeaceful seeming, on a fair day, like a calm\\nspirit that nothing could perturb. Beyond\\nMinas rise the low mountains of the Cobequid\\nrange.\\nNot only the Cornwallis Valley lies revealed\\nfrom this favoured spot, but wide reaches of\\ncountry are seen in all directions, the high-\\nlands across the Gaspereaux vying in loveliness\\nwith the beautiful valley.\\nMeadow-land and orchard, barley and oat\\nfields, smile before the doors of Grand Pre\\nmuch as they did in the old times. Only then\\nthere were wheat and flax fields and flocks of\\nsheep and herds of horses and cattle were also\\nfar more numerous, if the stories of those old\\ntimes are true. To-day the people get their\\n19", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0085.jp2"}, "86": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nwheat and linen elsewhere, and the flocks and\\nherds for the most part find pasture in more\\ndistant and less fertile places.\\nMany of the houses of Grand Pre are shin-\\ngled to the ground, and some are moss-grown\\nand gray as well, and the village has a certain\\ndistinction from the tall columns of Lombardy\\npoplars that stand about. These poplars were\\nbrought by the French from their home across\\nthe sea and wherever in Nova Scotia one sees\\nthese tall straight trees, he may be sure that\\nthey mark the site of what was once an Aca-\\ndian village.\\nAt Grand Pre, too, are the Acadian willows,\\nnot only picturesque in themselves, but wearing\\nan air of romance and poetry that enriches the\\nwhole scene. It is hard to believe we live in\\nthe things of to-day in the presence of the wil-\\nlows of Grand Pre. There are a few very old\\nand very decrepit ones on the road leading\\nfrom the railway station toward the town.\\nThey can be regarded with unstinted emotion\\nand unbridled imagination, for there can be no\\ndoubt that they were really put there by French\\nhands as much as a hundred and fifty years ago,\\nand have witnessed the tragic scenes that make\\n60", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0086.jp2"}, "87": {"fulltext": "At the End of the Day", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0087.jp2"}, "88": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0088.jp2"}, "89": {"fulltext": "Grand Pre\\nthe history of this part of the country so\\nmemorable.\\nBut it is in a meadow upon which the rail-\\nway station faces that the interest of to-day\\nchiefly centres. Across a wide field is to be\\nseen a row of willows, and near them is an old\\nFrench well, of course called Evangeline s well.\\nThere is no question about the antiquity of the\\nwell. It is as genuine as the willows, and if\\nthe pilgrim wishes to touch its sacred water\\nwith his finger-tips one does not see how harm\\ncould follow. But the stranger who gazes into\\nthe depths of the well will think twice before\\nhe follows the advice of certain sentimental\\nguide-books and drinks from the sparkling\\nwaters that once had kissed Evangeline s lovely\\nlips.\\nEither the water has changed since the well\\nwas dug at this period of time it may need\\ncleaning or else it was used to water the\\ncattle. It is not a large well nor a deep one,\\nand the walls are of stone. When we saw it,\\nit had no cover, two or three boards being laid\\ncrosswise to prevent the unwary from tumbling\\nin, or, it may be, to mark its site for the curious\\nand eager pilgrim.\\n6i", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0089.jp2"}, "90": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nNot far from the well are what are supposed\\nto be the foundations of buildings, one of which\\nis said to be the site of the very chapel in which\\nthe Acadian men were imprisoned.\\nNot long since some blacksmith s tools were\\ndug up near here, which of course fired the\\nimaginations of all who heard of it, and it was\\nat once averred the site of the village smithy\\nhad been discovered, doubtless the very spot\\nwhere Basil the blacksmith wrought.\\nSome one in Grand Pre, we were told, has a\\ncollection of old French relics which he is will-\\ning to show to any one interested.\\nThe field in which lies the well is traversed\\nby foot-paths worn by the coming and going\\nof visitors. In some parts of the world this\\nfield would be enclosed and an entrance fee\\ncharged but so simple a means of amassing\\nwealth has not occurred to the lazy Corn-\\nwallis Valley farmer who owns it. He simply\\nworks the land the sight-seer has not tramped\\ndown too hard to be worked, and leaves\\nthis field to the fate it has brought upon\\nitself\\nThere is another clump of very large wil-\\nlows in the well-meadow, near the fence by the\\n62", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0090.jp2"}, "91": {"fulltext": "Grand Pre\\nstation. They are veterans indeed of the most\\nfantastic forms and positions, some of them\\nhaving literally lain down in order to endure\\nthe press of years a little longer.\\nBut the finest willows in Grand Pre border\\nan old roadway, which now runs through the\\nmiddle of a farm, and which is fenced in with\\nbarbed wire. This roadway is near the field of\\nthe well, and the owner of it cordially pointed it\\nout and invited us to walk through it, instruct-\\ning us concerning a hole in the fence through\\nwhich we could enter without difficulty.\\nThis way of the willows was charming.\\nThey were mighty willows, hollow and twisted.\\nThe limbs were as large as the trunks in some\\ncases, and they were pervaded with a flower-\\nlike fragrance which we had never noticed in\\nwillows before, unless perhaps in blooming-\\ntime in the spring. This odour came from the\\nleaves, and we wondered if it might be the\\nexhalations of poetry.\\nThe old roadway is broad and in some\\nplaces seems to have been elevated. There\\nare piles of stones near it which are doubtless\\nthe remains of the foundations of old French\\nhouses. There is a pervading sense of peace\\n63", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0091.jp2"}, "92": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nabout the quiet fields and these worn old\\ntrees, which harmonises with our conceptions\\nof Acadian life.\\nFrom Grand Pre to Horton s Landing is a\\npleasant walk of about a mile, but pleasanter\\nthan Horton s Landing itself is a grassy lane\\nnear there, which ends at a stile upon which\\none can sit and look at the broad marshes and\\nmeadow-lands where the Gaspereaux winds\\nthrough red mud at low tide to empty into\\nthe near waters of Minas, and at high tide is\\nlost in the sea that covers the sands.\\nThe lowlands near the mouth of the Gas-\\npereaux formed a combination of meadow and\\nmarsh lands which we could not understand.\\nThere were dikes, but they seemed incom-\\nplete and ineffectual, and later we learned\\nhow a great storm had broken through and\\nlet in the sea, and how these dikes, whose\\ncost of repair so close to turbulent Minas\\nhad made them a questionable blessing, had\\nnot been rebuilt. Remnants of them are\\nseen, but the triumphant tides have it all\\ntheir own way, and once more the yellow\\nmarsh grass decorates the rich red soil.\\nWherever accessible, the marsh grass is cut\\n64", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0092.jp2"}, "93": {"fulltext": "Grand Pre\\nand preserved, and picturesque haycocks stand\\non stilts over the marshes, but the value of\\nthe salt hay is little compared to the opulence\\nof the meadow-land when protected from the\\nsting of the brine.\\nSituated as Grand Pre is, on a ridge at the\\nextreme eastern edge of the Cornwallis Valley,\\nthe views everywhere about are fine.\\nWolfville, the largest town of that region,\\nis only three miles away on the same ridge.\\nIt is a college town, containing several institu-\\ntions for training the mental and spiritual\\nman and woman, being blessed as well with\\na Young Ladies* Seminary. It is rather an\\nattractive-looking place with its many shade-\\ntrees, and from it may be obtained a fine view\\nof the Cornwallis Valley.\\nBeing plentifully supplied with boarding-\\nhouses and accommodation of all sorts for\\nthe summer tourist, it is the general stopping-\\nplace. Grand Pre being a Mecca to which the\\ntourists pour in crowds, to gaze, perchance\\nto worship, at Evangeline s shrine, to shed a\\ntear, and go their way.\\nThe drive between Wolfville and Grand\\nPre is beautiful enough to entice the pleasure-\\n5 6s", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0093.jp2"}, "94": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nseeker, even if there were no such goal as\\nGrand Pre at the end. There are two roads\\nbetween Grand Pre and Wolfville, one at\\nthe foot of the ridge, and the other along its\\ncrest. The drive over the upper road is one\\nto remember.\\nUp hill and down we went, past farm-\\nhouses and through avenues of fragrant firs\\nand spruces, as wild a woods road as heart\\ncould wish, and then of a sudden we found\\nourselves looking down into the Valley of the\\nGaspereaux. It is not a broad, calm expanse\\nlike the Cornwallis Valley, but a sweet sun-\\nfilled vale with the river sparkling and wind-\\ning through the middle.\\nThe Gaspereaux is not a mighty flood, and\\nit has no dignity to speak of. It babbles and\\nprattles over its stones like a summer brook,\\nis crossed here and there by a red-and-white\\nbridge and near its mouth it is disturbed and\\ndiscoloured by the intruding tides of Fundy, that\\ncome prying as far as they can into the aifairs\\nof the Gaspereaux, and cause dikes to be built\\nto shut their fatal salt embrace away from its\\nlower marshes.\\nGroups of willows are scattered through the\\n66", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0094.jp2"}, "95": {"fulltext": "Grand Pre\\nvalley, and farms on gentle slopes lie basking\\nin the quiet sunshine. Apples are ripening\\neverywhere. All is bright, sweet, and peace-\\nful, and we drive on with a feeling of calm\\npleasure until the fairy valley is left behind,\\nand on the other side of us once more spread\\nthe splendid reaches of the Cornwallis Valley.\\nOnce more, and from another point of view,\\nwe see our old friends. Canning and Kentville\\nand Kingsport, while close at hand lies Wolf-\\nville.\\nWe see again the far-off wall of North\\nMountain standing sentinel over the fertile\\nvalley, and holding back the fogs of Fundy,\\nthat roll up from the Bay and look over the\\nmountain into the valley, but dare not venture\\ndown to blight its vegetation with their cold\\nand damp presence.\\nPort Williams is a tiny settlement not far from\\nWolfville, and we see it lying near the mouth\\nof the Cornwallis River, its wharves and vessels\\ntelling of its maritime life, for up to its wharves\\ncome schooners at flood-tide to bear away the\\napples and potatoes of the region round about.\\nAt low tide the schooners comport themselves\\nwith what dignity they may with their keels in\\n67", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0095.jp2"}, "96": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nthe mud and their high sides uncovered to the\\ngaze of the curious.\\nThere are httle groves of plum-trees all\\nabout Wolfville and the surrounding country.\\nThere are plums at Grand Pre and in the Gas-\\npereaux Valley, but not so many as at Wolf-\\nville. The orchards there were blue with\\nripening fruit. The trees were bending and\\nalmost breaking under the burden. Blue\\nplums were dominant, but there were also red\\nand white ones.\\nThe farmhouses looked neat, and were often\\npicturesque or pretty, and everywhere were\\norchards of ripening apples and little groves\\nof dark blue plums.\\nWe missed the flowers that made Digby so\\ncharming. Flowers were not abundant here,\\nand where they did occur they were meagre\\nand commonplace, and in no way characteristic\\nof Acadia.\\nTo Digby belong her fish-flakes and her\\nflowers Acadia has her dike-lands, her\\norchards, and her romance.\\n6S", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0096.jp2"}, "97": {"fulltext": "T\\nVI\\nEVANGELINE\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0^HERE are two villages of Grand\\nPre. One lies on the slopes beyond\\nthe Cornwallis with the broad valley\\nsmihng before her doors. The other\\nwas founded by Longfellow and lies in the\\nhearts of his readers and within the glowing\\nlines of poetry, enveloped by the mists of\\nromance.\\nIt is difficult to separate the two and the\\nGrand Pre of reality is pervaded by a charm\\nnot her own from association with the Grand\\nPre of the poet. Lying on the hill-top above\\nGrand Pre and looking over the peaceful\\nmeadow-lands on a summer day, we cease to\\nbehold the present scene, and the poet s fancy\\nrises to take its place.\\nWe read the page before us, and the forest\\nprimeval occupies the neighbouring hills in\\nspite of the fact that not a forest tree is now on\\nthem and we listen gratefully to the murmur-\\ning pines and the hemlocks, although there are\\nnot enough pine-trees in all Nova Scotia to\\n69", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0097.jp2"}, "98": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nmurmur effectively, and it is a question as to\\nwhether they ever flourished near Grand Pre.\\nStill, in our imagination they are there, and\\nwe shall no doubt learn that the image we have\\nso long held of them is far more enduring than\\nare our memories of Grand Pre as we saw it in\\nreality.\\nAs we read on out of the poet s book we live\\nin a strange dream-world, where ever and anon\\nthe modern English houses are blotted out and\\nalong the single street of Grand Pre straggle\\nthe poet s houses with their overhanging\\nthatched roofs, their dormer windows, and their\\nquaint doorways.\\nIn spite of the stones lying prone in the\\nmeadow by the well, we see the chapel with its\\nuplifted cross, not on the lowlands, but on the\\nside of the ridge, where in our imagination the\\nquaint and comfortable houses stand. We know\\nexactly what mound it occupied and how the\\nhouses were grouped about it. In spite of the\\ncoffins recently exhumed from the meadow\\nbelow, we know the burying-ground of our\\nGrand Pre lies by the wall of our chapel.\\nThe broad-eaved barns, low-thatched and\\nbursting with the harvest, cluster like separate\\n70", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0098.jp2"}, "99": {"fulltext": "Evangeline\\nvillages each about Its farmhouse, as the poet\\nhas shown them to us.\\nDown toward Horton s Landing apart, as\\nthe poet has set it, and as it should be is the\\npeaceful and charming home of Evangeline.\\nThere in the broad-beamed house she lives\\nwith her father. We see her as distinctly as\\nwe see the young girl of to-day passing along\\nthe street, far more distinctly, for we shall for-\\nget the young girl, but Evangeline s face and\\nform will linger in our minds for ever.\\nWe know her as well as we know the\\nmembers of our household, and here in Grand\\nPre she seems very near to us. We know she\\nis sitting at her spinning-wheel down there by\\nHorton s Landing, in the home of her father\\nwith its oaken beams. She is fair, and bright\\nwith the sparkle of French vivacity that plays\\nin her black eyes, which flash and soften with\\nsucceeding emotions.\\nShe is clad in the picturesque attire of her\\ncountry people and in the corner near her is\\nthe great loom where she sits through the\\nwinter, weaving cloth for the family and laying\\nup piles of linen against a day that is nearing,\\nand about which she is dreaming.\\n71", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0099.jp2"}, "100": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nWe too dream as we read. We see her not\\nonly in her home but abroad on Sunday, wend-\\ning her way to the chapel, clad in her blue\\nkirtle and wearing her Norman cap and ances-\\ntral ornaments. We see her townspeople in\\nbright colours about her, but she is not of them\\nshe stands alone, something rare in this world,\\nprecious to us in a deep and primal sense.\\nWhether the poet meant it or not, in\\nEvangeline he has given us not an individual,\\nbut a type. She does not belong to any time\\nor to any place; she is the great, patient, suffer-\\ning type of womanhood which shall outlive\\nnations and races. We follow her with rever-\\nence, not because she is a village maiden, fair\\nand gentle, but because of her awful mission,\\nbecause of her triumph over circumstance and\\nfailure, and because in Evangeline s hand-to-\\nhand struggle with the adverse forces of this\\nworld, we each discern our own battle.\\nWe linger in imagination with Evangeline\\nin her youth. We lovingly watch her as she\\nmoves about and is greeted by the villagers\\nwith the same reverence we ourselves feel for\\nher. They do not know why they feel thus\\nto this young girl but we know, for they too\\n72", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0100.jp2"}, "101": {"fulltext": "Evangeline\\nare the creatures of our imagination, and over\\nthem all we have cast the spell of Evangeline s\\nfuture. They too go forth and suffer, but we\\ndo not think of that we follow only the figure\\nthe poet has shown us and the one life he\\nhas illumined.\\nWe see Gabriel, Evangeline s lover, but he\\nis less well defined. Perhaps more clearly\\nstands out Gabriel s father, Basil the black-\\nsmith, and Evangeline s own sunny-hearted\\nand well-loved sire. These people are all, to\\nour imagination, of superior clay; they are the\\nwell beloved of the poet, they and all their\\nneighbours.\\nIt is from the first pages of Longfellow s\\nEvangeline we get that sense of peace and\\nblessedness which has confused Acadia with\\nArcadia in the minds of so many.\\nFrom our place on the hillside, the magic\\nbook in our hand, we watch the peaceful days\\nglide by, we see the coming home of the herds\\nat night, and listen to the love-song of Evan-\\ngeline as she awaits the coming of her lover\\nGabriel. We witness the betrothal and attend\\nthe feast, and listen lightly to the ominous\\nrumours of hostile import.\\n73", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0101.jp2"}, "102": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nWe know what is to come, yet the poet s\\nmagic chains us to the joyful present. We\\nthink only of Evangeline and Gabriel, she\\nfilled with deep and holy joy at the approach-\\ning perfection of her womanhood, and he filled\\nwith love and ambition for her. We know\\ntheir hopes will never be realised, yet we re-\\njoice as they do, as though we were, like them,\\noblivious of the future.\\nWhile we are still lying on our hillside, a\\nchange comes over the face of Grand Pre. It\\nis the fall of the year, and the deep peace of the\\nhappy valley is broken by the noise of drums\\nand the wailing of women and children.\\nEvangeline s father, Basil the blacksmith,\\nGabriel, and all the men of the village are\\nimprisoned in the chapel, where they had been\\nsummoned to hear the will of their masters\\nand the fiat has gone forth that the French\\nAcadians shall be driven away as exiles, their\\nhomes and their property confiscated to the\\nEnglish Crown.\\nThere is something so cruelly inhuman in\\nthis decree and in the scenes that follow, as\\nthe poet has portrayed them, that we forget the\\nfacts of history and are carried away by the\\n74", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0102.jp2"}, "103": {"fulltext": "Evangeline\\nsame rushing tide of feeling that overwhelmed\\nthe victims. Our indignation blazes with theirs\\nand our tears flow with them, as we go from\\nhouse to house and see the misery that has in\\na moment overtaken our Acadia, our Isles of\\nthe Blessed.\\nWe execrate the terrible decree in spite of\\nthe excuses history presents, for here we are\\nnot in the realm of history. We are in the\\npoet s land of Acadia, and these cherished peo-\\nple are being wantonly scattered and destroyed,\\ndriven forth without cause and without right of\\nappeal.\\nOver there, where we can see the shining\\nmouth of the Gaspereaux, the English ships\\nare waiting. Cruel hands guard the men in\\nthe chapel while the women bear their house-\\nhold goods to the shore.\\nAnd now Evangeline begins the fulfilment\\nof that sacred promise of her future. She does\\nnot wait to weep, nor does she fall in despair.\\nOver her seventeen summers of gracious youth\\nis suddenly dropped the mantle of life s tragedy,\\nwhich she never more will cast aside.\\nThe past held a delusion, although she does\\nnot know it yet her womanhood must be per-\\n75", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0103.jp2"}, "104": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nfected, not through the fulfilment of her dearest\\nhope, but through abnegation of all she most\\ndesires and she applies herself to the care\\nof her neighbours, comforting and helping\\nthem, and thus in a measure stilling her own\\npain.\\nThe tragedy of Grand Pre hastens to a con-\\nclusion. The prisoners are marched under\\nguard to the ships. We see the long line of\\nthem, the young men first, their faces set and\\ngrim, and their powerful muscles strained but\\nhelpless to serve them against the oppressor.\\nFor a moment Evangeline flashes before our\\neyes she is in the arms of Gabriel. Our hearts\\nare oppressed with the doom which we know has\\nfallen, butherS;, in spite of the horrible situation,\\nis sustained by the hope of sharing her exile with\\nher beloved.\\nShe cannot remain with him now, for later in\\nthe procession is a bent old form, her once\\njoyous-hearted father, whom she now scarcely\\nrecognises, so frightfully have the hours of\\nmisery told upon him, and to whose side she\\nhastens.\\nAgain we see her, momentarily overcome by\\nthe death of her father, who, broken-hearted,\\n76", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0104.jp2"}, "105": {"fulltext": "Evangeline\\nis laid to rest on the shore of Minas by the\\nloving hands of the stricken neighbours.\\nNight falls, and we watch the people by their\\nfires on the shore it is their last night, and\\nthey sit in dumb misery. In a moment a thrill\\nof anguish and horror passes over our own\\nnerves as it did over theirs, for along the strag-\\ngling street of Grand Pre an ominous light\\nshines.\\nThe cruel flame-storm spreads and rages, its\\npassion fed by the thatched roofs of the Aca-\\ndian homes. This is the last drop, and the\\nvoices of the people are raised in shrieks and\\ngroans of utter despair.\\nAgain we see Evangeline, no longer a care-\\nfree girl but a full-dowered woman, accepting\\nher womanhood and perfecting it in the fire of\\nher great affliction. It is her voice that com-\\nforts and her hand that sustains, and young and\\nold turn to her in appealing reverence, knowing\\nnow the cause of their joy in her.\\nIn that miserable camp on the shore stands\\nnot Evangeline, but Womanhood.\\nLying on the sunny bank, we watch those\\nships of the land of romance sail away from the\\nmouth of the Gaspereaux. We scarce see the\\n77", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0105.jp2"}, "106": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nsilver river more plainly than the imagined\\nships, and crowded on their insufficient decks\\nare the once happy Acadians.\\nEvangeline is there, alone in the world.\\nHer father lies by the sea, her lover is on\\nanother ship, for in the confusion of embark-\\ning, the cruel haste and the urging, they were\\nseparated.\\nWe watch the ships sail down Minas Basin\\ntoward Blomidon. We watch them disappear\\naround the bold front of the rocky bluff; and\\nwe know that Evangeline s and Gabriel s ships\\ntook different courses, and that these two wan-\\ndered over the earth the rest of their lives\\nin search of each other, not despairing and not\\nstaying the hand because the heart ached.\\nThey laboured for others while struggling ever\\nonward toward the goal they both sought.\\nWe put down the oft-read poem with dim\\neyes. Our hearts go out, not to Evangeline,\\nbut to the whole world of suffering humanity,\\nwhose representative she is. Longfellow seized\\nupon an event in history but to give living\\nform to a universal truth.\\nWe know the Grand Pre before us is not\\nthe imagined scene of his beautiful poem, yet\\n78", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0106.jp2"}, "107": {"fulltext": "Evangeline\\nwe cannot see the old willows and the straight\\npoplars planted by the hands of the early\\nFrench settlers without emotion.\\nWe cannot gaze upon the broad meadows\\nbefore the door of Grand Pre without remem-\\nbering the hands that first held back the sea.\\nNor would we if we could.\\nSuppose the real Acadians were not the folk\\nof the poet s fancy suppose the emotion\\nexpended upon their sad history does not\\nwholly belong to them, still, even had it been\\ndeserved, their fate was terrible, and their suf-\\nferings were such as will ever appeal to the\\nheart of humanity.\\nTheir history was at least the rough material\\nout of which a divine form was fashioned by\\nthe poet.\\n79", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0107.jp2"}, "108": {"fulltext": "VII\\nTHE ACADIANS\\nIF we have listened with exaltation to the\\nMuse of Poetry, let us now turn to a\\ngraver Muse, that of History, and hear\\nwhat she has to tell us of the Acadians\\nand their exile.\\nThere must be in history excuse for the\\natrocities represented in the story of the poet.\\nIn order to understand events, it is necessary\\nfirst to make allowance for the theory, now,\\nperhaps, beginning to be disbelieved, that a\\nking or a government can own and control\\ndistant lands never seen or in any way im-\\nproved by them and that those who till the\\nsoil of these lands and who make their homes\\nin them are the creatures of these distant\\npowers.\\nThe story, briefly told, is this. After the\\ngreat continent of North America was discov-\\nered, it was, as all know, eagerly settled by\\ncolonies from France and England.\\nInstead of allowing the new world to belong\\nto those who settled it, its resources to be by", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0108.jp2"}, "109": {"fulltext": "The Acadians\\nthem developed and controlled, and the new\\nsociety governed by its members, France and\\nEngland both assumed to be the owners, and\\neach tried to drive the other away and gain the\\nsole control. The consequence was innumer-\\nable difficulties and much bloodshed.\\nAcadia, being one of the principal doors to\\nthe new world, was a favourite bone of conten-\\ntion, unfortunately for the poor creatures who\\nhad settled there.\\nIn 17 13 the treaty of Utrecht was signed\\nbetween France and England, and among other\\nprovisions Acadia was ceded to Great Britain.\\nAcadia then meant not only Nova Scotia\\nand New Brunswick, but also some adjacent\\ncountry, and did not include Cape Breton and\\nPrince Edward Island, which France looked\\nupon as her own.\\nIn the treaty of Utrecht it was agreed that\\nthe French settlers in Acadia should be allowed\\nto remain on their lands if they chose, and\\nshould be free to practise the Roman Catholic\\nfaith. If they preferred to move, they were to\\nbe allowed to do so any time within a year.\\nFew moved, and at the end of the year those\\nremaining were requested to take the oath of", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0109.jp2"}, "110": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nallegiance to King George. At once there was\\ntrouble, for the Acadians, although they had\\nbeen transferred to English jurisdiction by the\\ngreat treaty of Utrecht, had not thereby been\\nchanged from Frenchmen into Englishmen\\nthat was something the treaty was not able to\\naccomplish, and they declined to take the oath\\nof allegiance to England.\\nThe French had built a strong fort at Louis-\\nburg, on the eastern coast of Cape Breton, and\\nwere not at all unwilling that the Acadians\\nshould rebel against English authority quite\\nthe contrary. Having given up Acadia, there\\nwas nothing, we may well suppose, they so much\\nwanted as to get it back again, and that the\\nAcadians should help them to do this.\\nWe have seen the Acadians in the trans-\\nforming light of poetry, and they were a very\\nagreeable people now we must look upon them\\nin the prosaic light of history, which does not\\nsoften the angles or enrich the colours if any-\\nthing, it intensifies the external hardness of\\nappearances.\\nParkman, in the first volume of his Mont-\\ncalm and Wolfe, gives us this picture of\\nthem\\n82", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0110.jp2"}, "111": {"fulltext": "The Acadians\\nThey were a simple and very ignorant peasantry,\\nindustrious and frugal till evil days came to discourage\\nthem living aloof from the world with little of that\\nspirit of adventure which an easy access to the vast\\nfur-bearing interior had developed in their Canadian\\nkindred having few wants and those of the rudest\\nfishing a little, and hunting in winter, but chiefly\\nemployed in cultivating the meadows along the river\\nAnnapolis, or rich marshes reclaimed by dikes from\\nthe tides of the Bay of Fundy. The British Govern-\\nment left them entirely free of taxation. They made\\nclothing of flax and wool of their own raising, hats\\nof similar materials, and shoes or moccasins of moose\\nand seal skin. They had cattle, sheep, hogs, and\\nhorses in abundance, and the Valley of the Annapolis,\\nthen as now, was known for the profusion and excel-\\nlence of its apples.\\nFor drink they had cider or brewed spruce-beer.\\nFrench oflScials describe their dwellings as wretched\\nwooden boxes, without ornaments or conveniences,\\nand scarcely supplied with the most necessary furni-\\nture. Two or more families often occupied the same\\nhouse j and their way of life, though simple and vir-\\ntuous, was by no means remarkable for cleanliness.\\nSuch as it was, contentment reigned among them,\\nundisturbed by what modern America calls progress.\\nMarriages were early, and population grew\\napace.\\n83", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0111.jp2"}, "112": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nHere we have a new and very different pic-\\nture of our Grand Pre. It is difficult indeed\\nto transfer the people described by Parkman\\nto the scene we look upon from our hillside\\nand which has so recently been the theatre of\\nEvangeline s drama. Yet let us once more\\ndream a dream. Along the one street of\\nGrand Pre straggle the homes of the French\\npeasantry. They are rude wooden structures,\\npicturesque enough, no doubt, with their heavy\\nthatched roofs, but devoid of the refinements\\nof life and not over-clean.\\nIt is a community of ignorant peasants, un-\\nable even to write their names, we are told\\nelsewhere. Brought as emigrants from the\\nmother-country, they have settled here and\\nindustriously worked the soil and reclaimed\\npart of the marsh that still spreads before\\ntheir doors.\\nBeing ignorant and industrious, these people\\nhad neither ability nor time to make a study\\nof the art of diplomacy being superstitious,\\nthey fell an easy prey to those who were\\nskilled in that noble art. They loved their\\nhomes and were content, and very likely, had\\nthey been left to themselves, would not have\\n84", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0112.jp2"}, "113": {"fulltext": "The Acadians\\nknown whether England or France owned\\nAcadia, or might even have supposed they\\nowned it themselves.\\nNot being left to themselves, however, they\\nwere instructed on the one hand to take the\\noath of allegiance to England, which in all\\nprobability they would have done quite will-\\ningly, only that, on the other hand, their\\npriests told them not to. Very naturally, they\\nobeyed their priests. What was the command\\nof a distant and unseen power to them, com-\\npared to the actual words and personal pres-\\nence of their spiritual advisers\\nTheir spiritual advisers should have known\\nbetter than to involve this innocent and igno-\\nrant peasantry in so absurdly unequal a con-\\ntest as a war with the English Government.\\nBut pawns were needed in the great Game\\nof Governments, and the Acadians made very\\ngood ones.\\nThe chief figure of these unfortunate times\\nis the unenviable one of Louis Joseph Le\\nLoutre, vicar-general of Acadia and mission-\\nary to the Micmac Indians. He flourished in\\nthe middle of the eighteenth century and was\\nto an extent the cause of the expulsion of the\\n85", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0113.jp2"}, "114": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nAcadians. Taking advantage of the ignorance\\nand superstition of the people, we are told he\\ntaught them that allegiance to Louis of France\\nwas inseparable from fidelity to God, and that\\nto swear allegiance to the Crown of England\\nwas to bring them eternal damnation.\\nThe word of the priest was the only law to\\nthe simple peasantry, and they refused the\\noath. When they did take it, they were in-\\nstructed that it was no sin to break it.\\nThe treaty of Utrecht was signed in 17 13,\\nand the expulsion of the Acadians did not\\ntake place until 1755, so for nearly half a\\ncentury England bore with what she looked\\nupon as treasonable conduct with a forbear-\\nance unparalleled in history.\\nDuring this long period of time, this forty-\\ntwo years, the Acadians, notwithstanding their\\nunfriendly behaviour, were not taxed, they were\\nallowed the practice of their own religion and\\nthe ministration of their own priests.\\nWe are informed that from the beginning\\nthe priests were the secret enemies of England,\\nand when Le Loutre s power began the Aca-\\ndians were incited to every sort of violence.\\nThey were not asked by England to take\\n86", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0114.jp2"}, "115": {"fulltext": "The Acadians\\nup arms against their countrymen nor against\\nthe Indians, who were the friends of the\\nFrench, but they were enjoined to remain\\nneutral. They persisted in refusing to take\\nthe oath of allegiance excepting with such\\nmodifications as made it meaningless. More\\nthan this, in time of war they withheld sup-\\nplies from the English, refusing to sell except\\nat exorbitant prices, and secretly sent their\\nstores to their own countrymen.\\nLe Loutre, when he came upon the scene,\\nstirred up the Micmacs to constant raids upon\\nthe Enghsh, whom they mercilessly killed\\nand the more reckless among the Acadians,\\ndisguising themselves as Indians, are said to\\nhave joined the raiders.\\nWithin what she considered her own terri-\\ntory, England was nourishing an enemy that\\nthreatened at any favourable moment to de-\\nstroy her.\\nThis state of affairs could not go on for ever.\\nMatters were nearing a climax New England\\ndemanded the suppression of the Acadians,\\ndeclaring her own safety depended upon it\\nand England would not turn a deaf ear to\\nNew England s cries, though there are those\\n87", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0115.jp2"}, "116": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nwho claim that her forbearance with the Aca-\\ndians was not wholly philanthropic. Her\\nAmerican child was none too submissive\\nand she may well have feared that if the dis-\\ntractions of war were removed, the too-fast-\\ngrowing infant might undertake to break away\\nfrom its mother s apron-strings.\\nSo it is a New England man whom we see\\ncoming to execute sentence upon the Aca-\\ndians. The weighers of events tell us that mat-\\nters grew worse and worse, that the Acadians\\nbecame more and more insolent and insubor-\\ndinate under the guidance of their priests and\\nactuated by belief in the final triumph of the\\nFrench.\\nFinally the Acadians were sternly com-\\nmanded to take the oath of allegiance without\\nalteration, as other British subjects took it, and\\nthey refused. They were given time to con-\\nsider, but the power to consider did not lie\\nwith them. Le Loutre considered for them,\\nand threatened to turn his Indians upon them\\nif they complied. They knew this would be\\nno vain threat, for his cruel hand had already\\nbeen felt in different parts of the country.\\nMoreover, to comply was to lose their souls.", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0116.jp2"}, "117": {"fulltext": "o\\nE-\\nz\\na", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0117.jp2"}, "118": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0118.jp2"}, "119": {"fulltext": "The Acadians\\nSo they refused, trusting, no doubt, to Eng-\\nland s past clemency to overlook their conduct\\nonce more.\\nBut this was not to be. Hard pressed by\\nthe French in different directions and doubt-\\nless fearful of losing Acadia, and all that\\nthat implied, England determined finally to\\nrid herself very effectually of the troublesome\\npeasants.\\nIt was John Winslow, a descendant of the\\nearly governors of Plymouth Colony, who\\nsailed from Boston one day with a shipful of\\nNew England volunteers to undertake the\\nreduction of the unruly Acadians. The Aca-\\ndians themselves had no suspicion of what was\\npending. They were the victims alike of\\nfriend and foe, for two thousand of them had\\nalready been cajoled or driven from their homes\\nacross the frontier to French lands, and this\\nhad not been done by the English, but by\\ntheir own countrymen, the French, who wanted\\ntheir services. Thus removed from their Aca-\\ndian homes, all domestic ties broken, they were\\nfar more willing openly to fight the English.\\nWinslow helped to reduce the French fort\\nat the head of the Cumberland Basin, which\\n89", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0119.jp2"}, "120": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\ncommanded the entrance by land into the\\nPeninsula of Nova Scotia, and was then com-\\nmissioned to remove those Acadians whose\\nheadquarters were at Grand Pre. Other offi-\\ncers were sent to perform a similar duty in other\\nAcadian centres, but it is of Grand Pre, where\\nthe plan was most fully carried out, that we\\nalways hear. It is believed that three thou-\\nsand or more French settlers were removed\\nfrom Acadia, and that over two thousand were\\ntaken from Grand Pre and vicinity.\\nIt was a thankless task to Winslow, and to\\nhis credit be it said he did it reluctantly and as\\nhumanely as possible. It was decided that\\nthe people could not be turned adrift on the\\nborders of Acadia to join the enemy, who would\\nbe only too glad to receive and make use of\\nthem, and so they were put on board ships and\\nsent away, scattered all along the English colo-\\nnies on the Atlantic coast, some of them even\\nfinding their way to Louisiana, where their\\ndescendants may be found to-day, in better\\ncondition if report be true, than were their\\nancestors in the apple lands of Acadia.\\nThe same military reason which caused their\\ndispersal over distant shores also caused their\\n90", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0120.jp2"}, "121": {"fulltext": "The Acadians\\nhomes to be burned, so that the stragglers, for\\nmany escaped, might not return.\\nPains were taken, the historian is careful to\\nsay, not to separate families or neighbours, and\\nfew such events are believed to have occurred.\\nYet, whatever precautions were taken, the exile\\nwas pitiful enough, and even the grave histo-\\nrian cannot refrain from expressing the universal\\nsentiment as he nears the tragic moment. He\\ntells us how Winslow sailed down Chignecto\\nChannel to the Bay of Fundy.\\nBorne on the rushing flood, they soon drifted\\nthrough the inlet, glided under the rival promontory\\nof Cape Blomidon, passed the red sandstone cliffs of\\nLyon s Cove, and descried the mouth of the rivers\\nCanard and Des Habitants, where fertile marshes,\\ndiked against the tide, sustained a numerous and\\nthriving population. Before them spread the bound-\\nless meadows of Grand Pre, waving with harvests or\\nalive with grazing cattle the green slopes behind\\nwere dotted with the simple dwellings of the Acadian\\nfarmers, and the spire of the village church rose\\nagainst a background of woody hills. It was a\\npeaceful rural scene, soon to become one of the\\nmost wretched spots on earth. Winslow did not\\nland for the present, but held his course to the\\n91", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0121.jp2"}, "122": {"fulltext": "Dowfi North aftd Up Along\\nestuary of the river Pisiquid, since called the Avon.\\nHere, where the town of Windsor now stands, there\\nwas a stockade called Fort Edward, where a garrison\\nof regulars under Captain Alexander Murray kept\\nwatch over the surrounding settlements. The New\\nEngland men pitched their tents on the shore, while\\nthe sloops that had brought them slept on the soft\\nbed of tawny mud left by the fallen tide.\\nSoon after this Winslow and his men landed\\nat Grand Pre and were stationed in the village\\nchurch, from which the historian is careful to\\ninform us, he had the elders remove the sacred\\nthings, to prevent their being defiled by\\nheretics.\\nWinslow, using the church as a storehouse\\nand place of arms, took his own station in the\\npriests house until all should be ready. The\\npeople did not know why he was there, though\\nhis presence could not have been reassuring.\\nOn Friday, the fifth of September, 1755, at\\nthree o clock in the afternoon, the little church,\\nin obedience to orders, was filled with the men\\nand boys of Grand Pre, an expectant and\\nanxious throng waiting to hear the will of their\\nsuperiors.\\nThe decree was read the blow had fallen.\\n92", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0122.jp2"}, "123": {"fulltext": "The Acadians\\nOnce again we see the crowd assembled on\\nthe shore. The men are shut in the church\\nthe women carry the household goods to the\\nships. It is not the assembly we saw a while\\nago, however, in poetry and imagination, but a\\ncrowd of poor hunted peasants, the victims of\\ntheir own ignorance and the playthings of greed\\nand cruelty. Their own people have betrayed\\nthem, and the foreign nation which has so long\\ntolerated them on the lands they themselves\\nhave snatched from the sea and cultivated now\\ncasts them forth.\\nThe flames leap up from the miserable\\nthatched hovels they call their homes, and the\\ncry of despair breaks forth, for, poor though\\nthey are, those hovels are their homes they\\nlove them and they love the fields they have\\ntilled. They are cast miserably forth, outcasts\\nindeed, and no matter how poor in intellect or\\nin spirit they may have been, their cry resounds\\nthrough time. It is their great sorrow, their\\ntragic fate, which appeals to every heart and\\nmakes the expulsion of the Acadians as it really\\noccurred but a shade less pathetic than the\\ntragedy the poet recited.\\n93", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0123.jp2"}, "124": {"fulltext": "VTII\\nBLOMIDON\\nKINGSPORT lies on the edge of a\\nbluff below which the mighty tides\\nsurge in and out. It is a little\\nwind-blown village unadorned by\\nfish-flakes, for fishing is not carried on in\\nMinas Basin. Its wharf is less imposing than\\nthat at Digby, though the tides here rise to a\\nheight of over fifty feet; but the shore is\\nshelving, and when the tide is out the red\\nsands are bare about the wharf, and the vessels\\nlie aground.\\nThe Annapolis Basin is a serene expanse of\\nwater where one, as it were, feels the lift of the\\ntides, while Minas Basin is a maelstrom where\\none feels their rush.\\nOnce Kingsport carried on an important\\nship-building industry, but her ship-yards are\\nnow no more. From her pier, however, ves-\\nsels sail for London bearing the apples and\\npotatoes of the interior.\\nFrom Kingsport one gets a clear view of the\\npeculiar outline of Blomidon. A vertical wall\\n94", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0124.jp2"}, "125": {"fulltext": "Blomidon\\nof dark gray basaltic trap drops some two or\\nthree hundred feet from the top, from which\\nthe fir-trees look over. Below the trap is a\\nwide sloping terrace of lighter gray amygdaloid,\\nand below that the steep slope to the sea is\\nof dark red sandstone, the same sandstone of\\nwhich the cliffs along the shore are formed,\\nand of which the rich red mud that makes\\nthe Cornwallis dike-lands so famous is largely\\ncomposed.\\nBlomidon s stern aspect is chiefly due to the\\nvertical wall of rock that caps it, and the impres-\\nsion it creates is not lessened when one thinks of\\nthe stupendous catastrophe that placed it there.\\nThe North Mountain ridge extends from\\nBlomidon to Digby Gut, and from Digby Gut\\nsouthward to Brier Island, where it ends. The\\nunderlying sandstone of the ridge was no doubt\\nformed by the action of water at the level of\\nthe sea, and was at a later period elevated.\\nBut the bed of trap that covers the sandstone\\nthe whole length of the ridge was once a vast\\nriver of molten rock, poured out from some\\ngreat volcanic crater, or more probably series\\nof craters.\\nJust where these outlets were, no one knows;\\n95", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0125.jp2"}, "126": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nbut somewhere along the extent of North\\nMountain the great mouths yawned, to be\\nfinally choked full and concealed by succeed-\\ning geological phenomena.\\nThen came the Ice Age, when Nova Scotia\\nwith her mountains was buried deep under a\\nfrozen mantle, and when the irresistible, slow-\\nmoving glaciers emulated the power of fire and\\ntore away the softer rock, scooping out the\\nCornwallis and Annapolis valleys, and carrying\\nboulders and pebbles of trap across from\\nNorth Mountain, to deposit them at the foot\\nof South Mountain s slaty mass.\\nThus fire and ice have wrought in ages past\\nwith tremendous power but a gentler and\\nequally potent spirit has been at work for cen-\\nturies, filling the heart of the mountain with\\nexquisite crystals.\\nWhen the volcanic fires first burst forth,\\nthey scattered cinders and particles of old lava,\\nwhich formed a deep layer of more porous\\nmaterial, before the final pouring forth of the\\nmain stream of molten rock. This layer is\\nthe amygdaloid belt, which, being of lighter\\ncolour, one can plainly see crossing Blomidon s\\ngreat front.\\n96", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0126.jp2"}, "127": {"fulltext": "Blomidon\\nAs time passed and the trap above assumed\\nits present hard state, the porous belt below\\nwas permeated by the rain-water that insinuated\\nitself into all the crevices, slowly, as the centu-\\nries passed, dissolving the silica and its com-\\npounds from the rock traversed, and depositing\\nthem in the cavities of the amygdaloid layer.\\nHere these materials arranged themselves into\\ncrystals, those mysterious and lovely blossoms\\nin the hearts of rocks, and filled the hollows,\\nlarge and small, with the most delicate and\\nexquisitely beautiful forms.\\nNorth Mountain Is an exhaustless treasure-\\nhouse, before whose marvels even Sindbad s\\nwondrous cave grows poor. Within it exquis-\\nitely beautiful forms lie waiting to flash or glow\\nwhenever the rays of the sun shall penetrate the\\nblackness of their prison cells. Here lie blue\\namethysts, agates of winsome colours, and dark\\nred jasper, besides many another gem of lovely\\nhue. Nor are these treasures held fast in the\\nheart of the mountain inaccessible to man.\\nIn some places the hard trap has overflowed\\nthe whole side of the mountain and piled up in\\na solid mass, in others it is less impregnable.\\nOften where the cliff rises sheer, as at Blomi-\\n7 97", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0127.jp2"}, "128": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\ndon and at points along North Mountain\\nfacing the Bay of Fundy, the tricksy frost\\ngnomes have been at work loosening and split-\\nting away fragments of rock and even separat-\\ning large masses which the rain washes down\\nthe mountain side, or which fall in the form of\\nland-slides, sometimes of considerable extent.\\nThese displaced masses are chiefly composed\\nof the more friable amygdaloid. Down comes\\nthe shattered cliff, in its fall exposing its cav-\\nerns of flashing crystals, while geodes and\\nnodules of various sizes roll over the sands at\\nthe foot of the mountain, all to be finally\\nwashed away by the hungry tides, and those\\nof Blomidon ground against the hard rock that\\nforms the bottom of the sea basin, until in\\ncourse of time the lovely crystals no doubt\\nhelp to form the mud that makes the dike-\\nlands fertile, and the Cornwallis farmers raise\\ntheir hay and oats from jewels.\\nBut not all of Blomidon s jewels meet this\\nfate. At low tide the sands at the foot of the\\nheadland are bare, and then come the treasure-\\nhunters from Kingsport and Canning and all\\nthe neighbouring towns, and eagerly employ\\nthe time the tide allows them in gathering what\\n98", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0128.jp2"}, "129": {"fulltext": "Blomidon\\no\\ntheir hands can find very beautiful as well as\\nrare crystals often reward their search.\\nThere is one place particularly rich in the\\nmineral deposits that fall from above, and its\\nname, Amethyst Cove, sufficiently explains\\nwhat is most eagerly sought for there. The\\nbest time to hunt for Blomidon s treasures is\\nin the early summer, after the frosts of winter\\nand the rains of spring have loosened and\\nwashed down the rocks above, and before the\\nsummer tourist has appeared in force to deplete\\nthe store, although at any time of year when\\nthe beach is accessible the seeker need not go\\naway empty-handed.\\nPerhaps no part of Blomidon s treasures has\\nso great a fascination as the geodes. What\\nfresher delight is given to mortals than to break\\na geode, a rough rounded stone, often with no\\nbeauty of form or colour, and discover within\\na central cavity lined with glowing crystals or\\nentirely filled with clustering jewels\\nNo wonder Blomidon is said to have been\\nthe abode of Glooscap, the Hiawatha of the\\nMicmac Indians, whose wigwams once stood on\\nthese shores and who peopled forest and head-\\nland with supernatural beings of their own\\n99", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0129.jp2"}, "130": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\ncreation, chief among whom was the mighty\\nGlooscap, friend of man.\\nThere is a legend telHng of a mystic stone\\nwhich at night is sometimes seen blazing on\\nthe brow of the mountain. This is the eye\\nof Glooscap or the diamond of Cape\\nBlomidon,\\nAlthough Blomidon is willing that mortals\\nshould see this jewel of miraculous radiance\\nand even allow its whereabouts to be discovered\\nat times, woe to the unlucky finder who should\\npresume to remove it. Terrible misfortune\\nwould be his portion, and in the end the gem,\\nby its own miraculous powers, would find its\\nway back to Blomidon s brow.\\nThere is another story to the effect that\\namong the crown jewels of France has blazed\\nfor over a century a great amethyst from the\\ntreasure-house of Blomidon and it has been\\nsuggested that the unstable fortunes of France\\nmay be due to her possession of this very\\neye of Glooscap. Certain it is this token\\nhas not of late been observed on Blomidon s\\nfront.\\nAlthough one can see Blomidon clearly out-\\nlined from Kingsport one must get close to", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0130.jp2"}, "131": {"fulltext": "Blomidon\\nexamine it, and this can be done at any time\\nby crossing the Bay to Parrsboro. The boat\\nfrom Kingsport to Parrsboro leaves and lands\\nby the grace of Neptune. It alternately lies\\non the sand some thirty feet or more below the\\ntop of the pier, and rides triumphantly with\\nits deck on a level with that structure.\\nOne fair afternoon we sat aloft and waited\\nfor the boat to ascend to us.\\nThe captain cheerily announced that we\\ncould get aboard in a few minutes. It certainly\\ndid not look so as we gazed down upon the far\\naway Evangeline, but the captain s faith in\\nFundy was not unrequited, and soon the smoke-\\nstack began to appear above the edge of the\\nwharf\\nSoon after we were able to reach the top of\\nthe cabin which formed the Evangeline s\\nonly deck. Our descent was certainly a little\\nsteep, but not so much so as that of a four-\\nfooted fellow-passenger.\\nA derrick stood on the Evangeline s bow\\nand was used in lowering baggage and other\\nbulky articles when the captain wanted to get\\nunder way before the full of the tide.\\nThis day a man wished to cross with his\\nlOI", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0131.jp2"}, "132": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nhorse, an undertaking in which the horse did\\nnot appear to sympathise.\\nA narrow bridge with a railing on either side\\nwas run out from the pier, one end resting on\\nthe pier itseif, the other suspended in mid-air\\nby ropes attached to the useful derrick. Upon\\nthis unstable structure the horse was finally\\npersuaded to place himself, his master standing\\non the bridge at his head, a position which no\\none envied him. The derrick of a sudden\\nbegan to lower away, to the astonishment and\\nconsternation of the horse, who, whatever he\\nmay have suspected, certainly could not have\\nlooked for any such perfidy as this. He made\\na desperate effort to back off once and for all,\\nbut it was too late. His front feet rapidly\\ndescended while his hind ones remained aloft,\\nuntil he stood at an angle which no horse could\\nbe expected to maintain, when down he slid,\\ndragging his master with him, both landing in\\na heap in the bottom of the boat. Fortunately\\nneither was hurt, and no harm done except\\nto the feelings and heels of the horse, the latter\\nbeing skinned and the former damaged to the\\nextent of making him desire to jump over-\\nboard as soon as he found himself fairly on", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0132.jp2"}, "133": {"fulltext": "Blomidon\\nhis abused legs. But he was dissuaded from\\nso rash a measure, and his wounds comforted\\nwith tar.\\nWe learned that this was the usual method\\nof putting horses aboard the Evangeline.\\nWe left Kingsport and followed the land\\ntoward Blomidon as we neared the headland\\nthe boat went closer to shore. A loon off the\\nport side eyed us anxiously and finally with an\\nunearthly wail disappeared under the water.\\nPoor thing said M., it is crying for\\nGlooscap; and if the Indian legend is true, no\\ndoubt it was, for according to that the loons were\\nGlooscap s huntsmen, and he had taught them\\ntheir strange cry, promising that whenever he\\nheard it he would come to their succour. When\\nhe left the world of men the loons were discon-\\nsolate, and now they go wandering up and down\\nthe earth calling for Glooscap. Glooscap seems\\nto have spent much of his time in the neigh-\\nbourhood of Minas Basin and there to have\\nperformed his most remarkable feats.\\nThe legendary accounts of the formation of\\nthe Cornwallis Valley may not be quite as true\\nas the geological story, but they are at least as\\nentertaining. According to them, Minas Basin\\n103", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0133.jp2"}, "134": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nwas once a great lake with a wall of rock ex-\\ntending across the end from Blomidon to Par-\\ntridge Island. It was the home of the beavers,\\nand the Great Beaver threatened to flood the\\ncountry with his monster dam. The people\\nappealed to Glooscap, and he and the beaver\\nhad a conflict, in which Glooscap won, and\\nswinging the end of the dam about made an\\noutlet for the waters of Minas, the same out-\\nlet through which the tides surge in and out\\nto-day. Up to that time the Cornwallis Val-\\nley was a part of the lake and was connected\\nwith another lake that occupied what is now\\nthe Annapolis Valley but after the opening of\\nthe dam at Blomidon and the gap at Digby\\nGut, both of which Glooscap achieved, the\\nwater drained away and left the valleys as we\\nfind them to-day.\\nIf you do not believe it, you will when we\\npass Blomidon, M. assured me, for then you\\ncan see the dam,\\nAs we neared Blomidon, its great wall be-\\ncame more and more impressive. The iron\\nfront of basalt frowned aloft, a stupendous clifi\\\\,\\nresting on the rock below in fine turrets. Be-\\nneath it we saw in detail the terrace of amyg-\\n104", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0134.jp2"}, "135": {"fulltext": "Blomidon\\ndaloid, fragments from it strewing the sand-\\nstone beneath, in places quite conceaHng it,\\nand forming streams down the gullies where\\nthe young trees grew. These fragments we\\nknew were scattered full of crystal treasures of\\ngreat beauty and no small value, jewels for the\\nroots of the young trees to twine about.\\nAccording to the Micmac legends these\\njewels were placed on the mountain by Gloos-\\ncap. It seems that the great chief had an old\\nwoman for a housekeeper and a beautiful boy\\nfor a page. He never married, but devoted his\\nlife to the service of man, teaching him the arts\\nof hunting and fishing and curing the game. He\\nalso taught him the names of the stars and the\\nconstellations and what little he needed to know\\nof agriculture. But there were times when the\\nGreat Spirit s magnanimity extended to his old\\nhousekeeper and then he caused her to assume\\nthe beautiful form of youth, and lavished pre-\\ncious jewels upon her. It was during such a\\ntime that he sprinkled the whole mountain in\\nhis prodigal generosity.\\nFrom our near view we saw the red sand-\\nstone of Blomidon to be crossed at times by\\nseams of lighter rock and blotched and spotted\\n105", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0135.jp2"}, "136": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nwith dull green. Although Blomidon as seen\\nin profile from the Cornwallis Valley appears\\nto be a narrow bluff, its real form is apparent\\nwhen one passes along its front, which is not\\nnarrow but forms a long wall of rock broken\\nat intervals. The headland grew more inter-\\nesting and more majestic as we went on, so\\nthat for a time we almost forgot the water\\nsurging about us. But this was not for long\\nwe were nearing the opening to the great\\ntrough, where the water rushes through with\\na velocity of six or seven miles an hour.\\nThis trough is about four miles wide from\\nBlomidon to Partridge Island, and is about\\neight miles long, opening at the lower end into\\nMinas Channel, which is itself a mighty trough\\nleading into the Bay of Fundy.\\nThe Atlantic tides enter Fundy at its broad\\nend, which lies so as to receive them without\\ndiminution of their force but Fundy narrows\\nlike a funnel, and the pent up waters, continu-\\ning with the impetus with which they entered,\\nnot able to spread out, pile up.\\nAt Minas Channel the same thing is repeated\\non a smaller scale. The already abnormally\\nhigh tide, rushing through the channel, finds\\nio6", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0136.jp2"}, "137": {"fulltext": "Blomidon\\nonly the narrow outlet into Minas Basin,\\nthrough which it propels itself with terrific\\nforce.\\nWhen wind and tide are in conflict, the strife\\nis terrible and no boat can venture into the\\nmaelstrom. Even on a calm day the water\\ncan readily be seen pouring through on the\\nflow of the tide, like a strong, swift river, the\\ncurrent being distinguishable for some dis-\\ntance in the calmer waters of the Basin. It\\nrushes along in eddies and whirlpools and\\nwhite-capped waves, which give one a vivid\\nrealisation of what it is capable of under\\nprovocation of the wind.\\nBlomidon s stern front defies the storm-\\nwinds and holds them back from the fertile\\nvalley, but glancing from the rock they strike\\nthe water, causing terrible commotion.\\nEven when the day is calm the Evangeline\\ncannot keep her head steadily to her destina-\\ntion as she crosses the channel, for an incoming\\nswirl of water will often strike her and turn her\\nseveral points from her course.\\nThe sea bottom at the foot of Blomidon is\\nsmooth and solid rock, where no boat can\\nanchor, so when a storm is imminent the\\n107", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0137.jp2"}, "138": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nboats flee through the dangerous channel to\\nthe safe waters of West Bay.\\nAs soon as we were fairly past Blomidon, we\\ncould look down the inlet to Cape Split, which\\nforms the farther edge of the trough on the\\nsouth side, while Cape Sharp is seen extending\\ninto the water from the opposite shore.\\nCape Split is a curious-looking object. At\\nits extreme point a great cliff of solid rock\\nseems to have been cleft or split from the\\nmainland by a blow from some mighty sword.\\nIt stands alone, towering aloft, the home of\\ncountless sea-birds that build their nests upon\\nits unscaleable summit. Their white forms can\\nalways be seen in clouds about it.\\nWhile Blomidon s front extends almost due\\nnorth and south, only the southeastern corner\\nbeing visible from the Cornwallis Valley, the\\nridge of rock which terminates in Cape Split\\nlies nearly at right angles to it, extending east\\nand west.\\nThis ridge is a narrow spit of solid rock and\\na glance at the map will show how, if it were\\nswung about until Cape Split touched the\\nCumberland shore, Minas Basin would indeed\\nbe a lake.\\n1 08", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0138.jp2"}, "139": {"fulltext": "Blomidon\\nOf this M. reminded me as soon as we came\\nin sight of the queer-looking cape, and it could\\nno longer be doubted that if Glooscap was able\\nto swing this dam of rock he had really done\\nso.\\nM. said it was no harder to believe he swung\\nit than to believe he sailed on Minas troubled\\nwaters in a stone canoe, which, according to the\\nIndian legend, was his usual method of pro-\\ngression excepting when he preferred to ride a\\nwhale. These feats indeed are no more re-\\nmarkable than that performed by Saint Patrick,\\nwho, as every one knows, is said to have floated\\nashore on an iron door when shipwrecked off\\nthe east coast of Ireland.\\nIn front of us as we crossed the channel was\\nthe bold front of Partridge Island, while down\\nthe channel, on the same side of the coast,\\nstood out the rocky headland of Cape Sharp.\\nTo the right of Partridge Island, and some\\ndistance away, were the picturesque forms of\\nthe Five Islands, for whose existence Glooscap\\nwas also credited by the Indians as being re-\\nsponsible, he having thrown them at the Great\\nBeaver at the time of the conflict.\\n109", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0139.jp2"}, "140": {"fulltext": "IX\\nPARTRIDGE ISLAND\\nPARRSBORO is not on the shore of\\nthe bay, but lies a mile or more up\\nthe Parrsboro River. The Evan-\\ngeline goes there if the tide is high,\\notherwise she lands at a pier on the Minas\\nshore near Partridge Island.\\nParrsboro is not attractive. The best thing\\nabout it is its tidal river with tall piers backing\\nup against the village.\\nPartridge Island as all that portion on the\\nshore near the pier is called is far more in-\\nteresting. The pier there is a variation of the\\none at Digby. It is smaller, though perhaps\\nmore picturesque, being short and very high,\\nand its black, dripping sides, heavily draped\\nwith seaweeds, contain openings into the lower\\nlanding which look like caves. It is heavily\\nbuttressed on the side away from the incom-\\ning tide, by a structure filled in with large\\nstones. This was necessary in order to keep\\nit from being pushed bodily away by the\\nspring tides.\\nno", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0140.jp2"}, "141": {"fulltext": "Partridge Island\\nThe pier was built several times before it\\ncould be made to stay there. It was Sir\\nCharles Tupper who persevered, and when\\nworsted by wind and water tried again and\\nagain until he got it anchored firm and fast.\\nIt cost a great deal of money, and in memory\\nof Sir Charles s many defeats, the pier up to\\nthe present day is called Tupper s Snag, though\\nit would seem only fair now to re-christen it\\nTupper s Triumph.\\nIt was a disappointment to learn that the\\npier at Partridge Island was only thirty-five\\nfeet high. We had come there for the purpose\\nof being amazed at the sight of a sixty-feet tide,\\nbut how could this happen in the presence of\\na pier with a paltry height of thirty-five feet\\nWe had heard wonderful accounts of the\\nperformances of Fundy s tides, but wherever\\nwe went the highest tides, the rips and bores,\\nthose wonderful cross-currents and wave-like\\nrushings in of the water, were somewhere else.\\nWe went to Partridge Island, fondly hoping\\nfor the tides we had been promised, only to\\nfind a thirty-five-feet pier\\nStill, we could not complain of the scale\\nupon which the tides were planned there and", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0141.jp2"}, "142": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nhad it not been for that pier we should have\\nbeheved the tide was coming in sixty feet high\\nbefore our eyes.\\nThe harbour-master made a helpless gesture\\nwhen we put some questions to him. Said he,\\nDon t ask me about the tides of Fundy. I\\ndon t know anything about them. Nobody\\ndoes. When, nor how, nor why. I know only\\nthis, that in summer the high tides come on\\nthe full moon, while the winter high tides are\\non the new moon. But I don t know why.\\nIn fact, nobody seemed to know anything\\nabout the matter. The tide-table in the al-\\nmanac did not coincide with the Evangeline s\\nschedule for leaving one pier or the other, or\\nfor starting at one time or another. When\\ndoes the boat start to-morrow is the ques-\\ntion the traveller must ask when planning to\\ndepart from Partridge Island. Happy is he\\nif he finds the hour not unseemly and not out\\nof all proximity to the starting time of the\\nKingsport train. Having found out the\\nEvangeline s intentions, he will do well to\\ntake his station at the wharf a good half-hour\\nearlier than advertised, for the boat frequently\\nleaves ahead of time.", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0142.jp2"}, "143": {"fulltext": "Partridge Island\\nFrom the queer-looking pier on the shore\\nwith its theatrical setting of promontories and\\ngreat sea basin one looks across at Partridge\\nIsland, which is not an island, but is connected\\nby a broad curved beach with the mainland.\\nIt is a rocky headland rising straight out of the\\nsea, its iron cliffs holding to their channel the\\nwild tides that rush through between it and\\nBlomidon.\\nBeyond it across the water we saw Blomidon,\\nits stern aspect softened by the distance and\\nthe sea-fogs, and beyond Blomidon stood out\\nthe distant form of Split. Through the opening\\nbetween Partridge Island and the mainland we\\ngot a charming view of Cape Sharp, which is by\\nno means as forbidding as its name, while away\\ndown the channel below Sharp lay Cape d Or,\\nthough why its golden name we did not dis-\\ncover.\\nA tall-masted ship was anchored off the\\npoint of Cape Sharp when we first saw it from\\nPartridge Island, giving just the needed touch\\nto the composition of the picture.\\nWest Bay, which lay between us and Sharp,\\nis the harbour sought by the boats of Minas\\nwhen foul weather is expected. It is also the\\n8 113", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0143.jp2"}, "144": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nanchoring ground for the large vessels that\\ncarry coal and wood from the back country,\\nfor Parrsboro is the outlet for the Springhill\\ncoal which comes to it from the mines by rail.\\nStanding near the centre of the amphitheatre\\nmade by the curving beach that connects Par-\\ntridge Island with the mainland, and looking\\ndown into the sea basin at low water, one gets\\nperhaps the most vivid realisation of the great\\nFundy tides.\\nIt is like looking down the slanting sides of\\na colossal reservoir and the beach instead of\\nsand is composed of large pebbles, quite in\\nkeeping with the scale upon which this mighty\\nbowl is formed. The water kisses the upper\\nrim and then swiftly falls, leaving bare the\\nsides of the bowl and for a long distance the\\nbottom as well. Then back it comes, rushing\\nup in small, curling breakers, up, up, until it\\nthreatens to overflow the land. But this it\\nnever does try as it will, it can but fill the\\nbowl and then sink back as though exhausted\\nwith the effort.\\nBy perseverance we finally found our high\\ntide and found it before our eyes at Partridge\\nIsland. We had watched it come and go several\\n114", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0144.jp2"}, "145": {"fulltext": "Partridge Island\\ndays with tempered emotion, for we could not\\nforget the thirty-five-feet pier, which, to our\\nignorance, betokened a thirty-five-feet tide.\\nThen we began to consider and also some-\\nbody told us, and we fell to, and wept in vexa-\\ntion that we had looked upon and had not\\nbeen amazed at the wonder we were seeking.\\nWe did not see the tide rise sixty feet, but\\nwe did see it reach the creditable height of\\nfifty feet or over, a very giant of a tide when\\nwe understood. The sloping sea bottom,\\nwhich is bare some distance out at low tide,\\nis bare for a hundred feet at the lowest tides,\\nand at the highest spring-tides the obnoxious\\nthirty-five-feet pier is swallowed completely\\nas it deserves to be.\\nWe were told that the highest of Fundy s\\ntides, those that rise seventy feet in the geog-\\nraphies and geologies, must be sought in\\nCumberland Basin. But we did not seek\\nthem there. We had come to Parrsboro for\\nthem, and, lo they were in Cumberland Basin.\\nIf we pursued them to Cumberland Basin,\\nthey no doubt would flee away to some yet\\nmore distant spot, and we did not wish to put\\nthem to the trouble.\\n5", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0145.jp2"}, "146": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nWe had the same difficulty with the bores\\nand rips wherever we went they were some-\\nwhere else. So we never once saw the tide\\ncoming in, in a solid wall five feet high,\\nthough our faith that it does so is still un-\\nshaken. We were told that at the right time\\nof year of course this was the wrong time\\nwe could see a very creditable display of tidal\\nfury at the foot of Partridge Island. But\\nthough we did not see the most pronounced\\nof Fundy s phenomena, we had the best and\\ngrandest always with us, the swift filling and\\nemptying of the mighty sea basins, the wet\\nand dripping sides of the tall piers close-\\ngrown with seaweed, and the shining red\\nchasms of the tidal rivers.\\nPartridge Island has the same formation as\\nBlomidon, though it is less than half as high.\\nFrom the sea on the east rises a turreted cliff\\nof basalt, the lower part of which is amygda-\\nloid while on the western side the basalt\\nforms only a thin covering to the cliff of\\namygdaloid. Underneath the whole can here\\nand there be seen cropping out the under-\\nlying red sandstone.\\nSo Partridge Island has, too, its belt of\\nii6", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0146.jp2"}, "147": {"fulltext": "Partridge Island\\njewels, a broader belt in proportion to its\\nsize than even Blomidon wears, and its treas-\\nures are much more accessible, being indeed\\nwithin easy reach of the hammer of the col-\\nlector at low tide.\\nAmethyst, agate, chalcedony, carnelian, jasper,\\nand opal belong to Partridge Island, and it has\\nbesides crystals all its own, while of those it\\nshares with Blomidon and the rocks back of\\nDigby, some are here found in their finest forms.\\nPartridge Island stands alone, a turret of\\ncrystals on a foreign shore, for the rock com-\\nposing the coast back of it belongs to the\\nlower carboniferous sandstones and shales.\\nThe great bed of trap which was expelled\\nwhen Blomidon and all North Mountain\\nreceived their gifts of jewelled belt and iron\\ncrown ends in isolated bluffs along this car-\\nboniferous coast. What has become of the\\nintervening portion, that lay where Minas\\nBasin now gives hospitable entertainment to\\nthe fleeing tides of Fundy\\nPartridge Island was one of Glooscap s re-\\nsorts, he crossing to it in his great stone\\ncanoe, though when he had long distances to\\ngo he called up a whale.\\n117", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0147.jp2"}, "148": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nGlooscap s whales appear to have been de-\\nficient in power to see the land as they neared\\nit, and depended upon their august rider to tell\\nthem in time to prevent bumping their noses\\nagainst the shore. But this Glooscap never\\ndid. Wishing to land dry-shod, he urged the\\npoor whale to its utmost speed, when it landed\\nitself high and dry, greatly to its chagrin. But\\nGlooscap was not ungrateful, and putting the\\nend of his bow against the whale, with a slight\\nmotion of his arm he slid it back into the\\nwater. His whales had a great fondness for\\nsmoking and sometimes asked Glooscap for a\\npipe at parting. This he willingly supplied,\\nwhen the whale went its way, smoking, to sea.\\nGlooscap is said to have had a famous revel\\non Partridge Island which the Micmacs speak\\nof with awe to this day. It was upon the\\noccasion of a visit from a young magician bear-\\ning the name KTtpooseagiinow. Glooscap in-\\nvited the guest of the distinguished name to go\\nfishing with him by torchlight, and got in readi-\\nness his monster canoe built of granite rock and\\nsupplied with paddles and spear of stone. Ac-\\ncording to the legend, the youth caught up the\\nboat as though it had been a birch-bark canoe\\nii8", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0148.jp2"}, "149": {"fulltext": "Partridge Island\\nand tossed it into the water. The game they\\ncaught was a large whale, which the youth\\nlanded as though it were a herring. They\\ncarried their booty back to Partridge Island,\\nwhence they had embarked, and finished the\\nnight by cooking and eating the whole whale.\\nGlooscap s power over cold and heat reminds\\nus of the season legends of other peoples. He\\nhad contests with his rivals in which each tried\\nto overcome the other with cold. When it\\nwas Glooscap s turn to resist he built a mighty\\nfire of whale oil, but toward morning invariably\\nsuccumbed and allowed his friends to be frozen,\\nbut never forgot to restore them when the\\ncontest was over. Then he took his turn at\\ncongealing his opponent s train and succeeded\\nin time, though the opponent was possessed of\\nthe same power to restore his frozen followers.\\nGlooscap finally disappeared at the encroach-\\nments of the white man, driven away by the\\nwickedness of the people. When he was with\\nthem all the animals lived in accord and under-\\nstood one another, but at his departure there\\nwas a confusion of tongues, and the wolf could\\nno longer understand the words of the bear,\\nnor any animal the speech of another species.\\n119", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0149.jp2"}, "150": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nThe great snowy owls went deep into the\\nforests, to return no more until the coming of\\nGlooscap. They may at times be heard cry-\\ning, Koo Koo Skoos Koo Koo Skoos\\nOh, I am sorry Oh, I am sorry\\nThe children are always pleased to know\\nthat Glooscap had two little dogs no larger\\nthan mice which he carried in his pocket, or\\nup his sleeve, but which could suddenly in-\\ncrease to the size and form of the largest and\\nswiftest and fiercest of their kind when he\\nneeded their services. He had a way of turn-\\ning things into stone, and by looking down\\nthe channel toward Cape d Or, one can see\\nSpencer s Island, which is not an island at all,\\nbut merely Glooscap s kettle turned upside\\ndown. He put it there after using it, to wait\\nfor his return, and there it remains to this day.\\nIf one passing that way notices large boulders\\nor rocks sticking out of the water, they are the\\nscraps left after he had tried out his oil.\\nDown that way somewhere, too, he once\\nturned into stone a moose that tried to escape\\nby swimming and the two dogs that were\\nchasing it still sit on the shore with their\\nears pricked forward watching it, both solid\\nI20", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0150.jp2"}, "151": {"fulltext": "P artridge Island\\nrock. Many, many other marvels did the\\nmighty Glooscap, friend of man, perform.\\nThe Indians are gone. They are no longer\\nto be seen as of old on Minas shore. They\\nare almost as mythical at Parrsboro as is\\nGlooscap himself; only their legends still\\nlinger about the rocks and coast they loved\\nin days gone by.\\nOnce upon a time, and not so very long\\nago, Parrsboro was an important boat-building\\ncentre. At that time the town, what there\\nwas of it, was down by the shore where the\\nParrsboro House now stands.\\nThe pine-trees are gone, and Parrsboro s ship-\\nyards have lost their prestige. Lumber still\\ncomes from the back country, and, such as it\\nis, makes the wealth of the region, in conjunc-\\ntion with that other timber which has been\\npreserved in the depths of the earth and altered\\nto form the valuable coal-beds of Springhill\\nand neighbouring localities.\\nWhen the town was on the shore, was\\nthe halcyon period of Parrsboro.\\nThere is a hill a little back from the shore,\\nand between this and the beach the old town\\nstood. The terrace above the deep sea bowl", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0151.jp2"}, "152": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nwas aglow with flowers of such brightness and\\nprofusion that they are still remembered.\\nWe should have liked to see the village in\\nits flower-garden age. In its nook back of the\\ngreat sea basin, with its setting of impressive\\nbluffs that make Minas at this point so splen-\\ndidly picturesque, and with ample flower-gar-\\ndens brightening the stern coast, it must have\\nbeen well worth a visit.\\nIn spite of the pebbly shore whose stones\\nroll under the feet, the visitor will not be long\\nin finding his way across to Partridge Island,\\nwhich is as delightful as a mountain of crys-\\ntals ought to be. On the land side it is thickly\\nwooded with rather small hard wood trees,\\nas the people here call all but the conifers and\\nwe wandered along a grassy winding path,\\nquite away from the outer world, into a wild-\\nwood seclusion.\\nPresently we came to firs and spruces cov-\\nered with sage-green moss, and then to a\\nhollow where the trees were dead, standing in\\nclose ranks with gray, interlaced limbs, heavily\\nmantled with sage-green moss that hung like\\nbeards from the lower branches. It was a fit\\ndwelling-place for the gnomes, its deep recesses\\n122", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0152.jp2"}, "153": {"fulltext": "Partridge Island\\ndark at midday, and we felt that lost spirits\\nmight be wandering there in the twilight.\\nBeyond it the living trees were scarcely less\\nmossy and we were met by a small red\\nsquirrel that said not a word but stared at us\\nin a silent and un-squirrel-like manner, and\\nfled wildly into the depths of the forest, as\\nthough death were at his heels.\\nThe squirrels here were a strange breed\\nwhether the spell of the dead forest was over\\nthem I cannot say, but they were a speechless\\nrace, peering out from behind a tree-trunk and\\nthen dashing away without challenge or word\\nof welcome. Perhaps they were Glooscap s\\nsquirrels, and held us responsible for driving\\nhim away.\\nAs we went on, the trees grew larger and\\nmore apart, and finally we had the surprise and\\ndelight of coming suddenly to the edge of the\\ncHff that stands upon the bay side. It took\\nsteady nerves to stand on the brink and look\\ndown the stern wall of rock to the tides below.\\nThe cliff was broken and terraced on one side,\\nand the incoming tide was impatiently raging\\nagainst its hard front. It was an awesome\\nsight, and we there got nearest to the tides\\n123", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0153.jp2"}, "154": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nwhere they thunder against the walls of rock\\nthat hold them unrelentingly to their channel.\\nFrom the top of the cliff we got a fine view\\ndown the channel, of West Bay with its\\nrocky sentinel of Cape Sharp in the fore-\\nground of Cape Split in the distance with its\\nisolated peak encircled by the white-winged\\nbirds that continually fly about it and far away\\nthe distant headland of Cape d Or, with Spen-\\ncer s Island to remind us of Glooscap. Here\\nand there on the water we saw sudden flashes\\nof light that we could not account for, until we\\nremembered the peeps we had seen on another\\npart of Minas shore, and then we knew the\\nlittle silver-breasted birds were here also per-\\nforming their marvellous evolutions.\\nThe headlands of this strange shore have all\\na peculiar interest. Blomidon and Partridge\\nIsland have the romance of their jewels. Cape\\nSharp and the distant Cape d Or share with\\nthem in this, for they, too, like Partridge\\nIsland, stand in their majesty of red sandstone\\nand crystal-bearing trap, on the edge of the\\ncarboniferous coast. They have the same\\nformation as Blomidon, and yield their treas-\\nures to the seeker.\\n124", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0154.jp2"}, "155": {"fulltext": "Partridge Island\\nThe Five Islands are also portions of the\\nsame volcanic formation, and have their crystals.\\nBut SpHt has no jewels. The trap here\\noverflowed and piled up so that the strange-\\nlooking cape is made of the iron-hard trap\\nonly. Devoid of vegetation, devoid of beauty.\\nCape Split is yet the chosen home of the soft-\\nbreasted birds that continually caress it.\\nThe most charming place of all at Partridge\\nIsland was the hill back of the Parrsboro\\nHouse. Up its sides ranked the ever-present\\nspruce and fir trees, but the top was open, with\\nonly an occasional stretch of alders or a sym-\\nmetrical young fir.\\nUncut grass, now a soft, silvery yellow, the\\ncolour of a sheep s back, rippled as the wind\\npassed over, while great patches of the bluest\\nof low-growing blueberries, bright red bunch-\\nberries, and deep crimson cranberries made a joy-\\nous medley of bright colours. There were two\\nkinds of cranberries there, one that looked\\nlike those we know so well in our fall markets,\\nand the small upland berry, deep red and with\\na pleasant sub-acid flavour all its own.\\nNever saw we such prolific blueberries.\\nThey grew close to the earth, which was one", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0155.jp2"}, "156": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nsolid blue expanse wherever they appeared.\\nIn short, never had we seen such a merry,\\nberry-bedecked hillside. The bunchberries\\nlaughed in scarlet glee all down one side of it,\\nwhile the cranberries did their best to outshine\\nthem in extensive patches here and there.\\nFair as it was under foot, there was in\\naddition a splendid view from this breezy,\\nberry-distracted hill-top.\\nOn one side shimmered the picturesque\\nchannel, with its bird-silvered Split, its Cape\\nSharp and the rest, while jewel-belted Blomi-\\ndon and Partridge Island guarded the entrance\\nto the Basin. On the other side lay the shin-\\ning Basin and the Cumberland coast, with the\\nuprising Five Islands, and nearer the Two\\nBrothers, small but jewelled islands like the\\nothers, where one goes when in need of extra\\nbeautiful moss agates. Shining in the sunlight\\nwas Silver Crag, which is not jewelled and is\\nonly silver by courtesy of the sun, that causes\\nits gypsum cliffs thus to shine forth. Far\\nbeyond is Economy Point, the other side of\\nwhich Minas Basin grows narrow, and is called\\nCobequid Bay.\\nThe hill-top from which we get this most\\n126", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0156.jp2"}, "157": {"fulltext": "Partridge Island\\nextended of all views is so pleasant a place one\\nloves to linger there and to come again and\\nagain. Its outlook is not so dramatic as the\\none on the steep cliff of Partridge Island, but\\nit is more charming. For every-day living\\none prefers the merry bunchberries, the blue-\\nberries, the cranberries, and the grass the\\ncolour of a sheep s back, to the terrifying cliff\\nwith its sombre surroundings of rock and dark-\\ngreen fir-trees.\\nThe picturesque new red sandstone elevations\\nwith their overlying trap give to the west end\\nof Minas Basin its chief attraction, but there is\\nmuch to be said for the twisted and contorted\\ncarboniferous beds that predominate in Cum-\\nberland County. They contain the valuable\\ncoal deposits that crop out at Springhill and\\nabut upon the shore of Cumberland Basin, and\\nthey are the source whence come the grind-\\nstones that gladden the farmers hearts, but not\\nthe backs of their boys, all over the United\\nStates.\\nAt Joggins on Cumberland Basin the car-\\nboniferous strata are broken off short, as North\\nMountain is on Minas and there can be studied,\\nas almost nowhere else in the world, these\\n127", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0157.jp2"}, "158": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nInteresting and ofttimes beautiful formations.\\nWe heard of fossil trees standing upright on\\nthe shore, and of fossils as various and valuable\\nto the geologist as the gems of Blomidon and\\nits neighbours are to the collectors of beautiful\\nstones.\\nThe back country is extremely rocky and\\nrugged with roUing hills and intervening valleys,\\nmore or less fertile. The woods are exquisitely\\nmossy and the brooks the most distracting\\nof their kind, as clear as crystal and as wild as\\nthe rocky land through which they find their\\nsparkling way. Their pools are not untenanted,\\nas one can discover by sprinkling crumbled\\nleaves on the surface when the inquisitive trout\\nput up their noses and display their colours.\\nThe lumbermen set up their portable saw-\\nmills back in the woods and the deals, as\\nthey call the unplaned spruce boards, cannot\\nfloat down the turbulent and meandering\\nbrooks, nor yet be drawn by waggons or sleds\\nthrough the rocky wilderness, so sluices are\\nbuilt, sometimes many miles in length, which\\ncarry the water of the turbulent brooks in a\\nsteady flow down the hills. Down hills and\\nacross valleys the wooden troughs float the deals,\\n128", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0158.jp2"}, "159": {"fulltext": "Partridge Island\\nand we passed under one that spanned the\\nvalley eighty feet above our heads, held up on\\na trestle with slender spider-like legs. These\\nsluices leak freely besides, the water washes\\nover the sides v/henever a deal comes along\\nforming cascades more interesting to observe\\nthan to pass under. The deals sometimes go\\noverboard, and we saw them strewing the ground\\nalong the course of the high sluice and breathed\\na sigh of relief when safely past the spot where\\na deal might have dropped down some eighty\\nfeet on our heads.\\nOne day we bade farewell to Parrsboro and\\ntrusted ourselves to the mercy of the Evange-\\nline at break of day. A light fog partly\\nobscured the surrounding headlands that looked\\nout at us dim and mysterious.\\n129", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0159.jp2"}, "160": {"fulltext": "X\\nHALIFAX\\nGO to Halifax is a command many\\nhave received, but few obeyed. To\\nmost of those thus apostrophised\\nin early youth Halifax had no\\nconcrete existence, but was an undesirable and\\nunlocatable place, to go to when one had\\nbeen troublesome.\\nNot to have gone to Halifax cannot be\\nregarded as a serious deprivation, for the way\\nthere across the country is not enchanting, nor\\nis the city itself uncommonly attractive.\\nBut if, being at Grand Pre, one does go to\\nHalifax and on the way passes Windsor at low\\ntide, he will be rewarded by beholding the\\nruddy bed of the Avon during the temporary\\nabsence of the river, that tidal stream having\\ntaken itself off and left the ships in its channel\\nto lean ingloriously against the wharves with\\ntheir keels in the mud, waiting as best they may\\nfor the unnatural river to come back and restore\\nthem to their wonted dignity. It must be\\n130", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0160.jp2"}, "161": {"fulltext": "Halifax\\nhumiliating to a ship to He in a river that goes\\nout from under it twice a day.\\nBesides possessing the bed of the inconstant\\nAvon, Windsor is distinguished as the birth-\\nplace of Judge Thomas C. Haliburton, the\\nhumorist, historian, and man of affairs who was\\nborn in 1796 and became known to fame as\\nSam Slick, the prototype of the conven-\\ntional Yankee of caricature, of the stage, and\\nnow of popular fancy, who is amusing the world\\nunder the newer name of Uncle Sam.\\nWindsor also has the oldest college in Canada,\\nKing s College, which was opened in 1789.\\nOutside of the town, on Minas Basin and\\non the shores of the St. Croix River, white\\ngypsum crops out in sepulchral-looking cliffs.\\nIt is called plaster by the Nova Scotians, and\\nis mined in large quantities and sent to the\\nUnited States, where, having been calcined, it is\\nsold as plaster of Paris, or merely ground fine\\nas a fertiliser.\\nThe mineral called terra alba is found north\\nof Windsor on Cobequid Bay. We did not\\nsee terra alba nor feel special interest in it\\nuntil we discovered with what pride its pos-\\nsession was regarded by the people. Then we\\n131", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0161.jp2"}, "162": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nbestirred ourselves and found out that it is a\\nsilicate of aluminium, or, in common speech,\\njust ordinary pipe clay, which is immorally used\\nfor adulterating candies and paint, but other-\\nwise for whitening the sails of yachts and\\nmaking irresistible the boot-tops, sword-belts,\\nand scabbards of the brave soldier on parade\\nday.\\nAfter a time one begins to have a feeling\\nthat if he travels long enough in Nova Scotia\\nhe will find out where everything comes from\\nwithout recourse to the encyclopaedias. It\\nbrings grindstones, plaster of Paris, and pipe-\\nclay nearer to one s daily life, as it were, to\\nbehold with the mortal eye the rocks whence\\nthey come. Such things, like apples to the\\ncity-bred child, had always seemed to us to be\\nthe product of barrels and boxes in the back\\nrecesses of the city shops.\\nAside from gypsum, there is very little to\\ninterest one between Windsor and Halifax.\\nThe country is stony and overgrown with\\nstunted evergreens.\\nAs one nears Halifax, Bedford Basin appears\\nall the prettier for contrast with the wilderness.\\nIt is a long arm of the Atlantic that reaches\\n132", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0162.jp2"}, "163": {"fulltext": "Halifax\\nup into the land apparently for the purpose of\\naffording pleasant sites on its hilly shores for the\\nhomes of the more prosperous Haligonians.\\nClose to Halifax, where the Basin contracts\\ninto the narrows, by which it joins tlie bay,\\nis a picturesque negro settlement, looking very\\nmuch out of place in this cold northern land\\nand we wondered how these children of the\\ntropics found their way here, until we recalled\\nbut not with pride the slavery epoch in our\\nown history.\\nHalifax has the site for a splendid city. It\\nlies on a peninsula clasped in bright arms of\\nthe sea, and from the centre rises a beautiful\\nhill two hundred and fifty feet high, that looks\\nin all directions over sea and land. Upon this\\nhill stands the citadel, for Halifax has the dis-\\ntinction of being the most important naval\\nstation of the British Empire in the Western\\nHemisphere, and in order to support this heavy\\nresponsibility it is armed to the teeth.\\nIt began its career as a fort, long ago, when\\nthe Acadians and Indians were misbehaving,\\nand when its name was Chebucto. Its fortifi-\\ncations have grown with its growth, rather\\nfaster indeed for with a population of less\\n-^11", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0163.jp2"}, "164": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nthan 40,000, it has forts in every direction, on\\nthe islands in the bay, on the rim of the town,\\nat the navy yard, and, most conspicuous of all,\\nin the centre of the town is the citadel. One\\ncould not throw a stone in Halifax without\\nhitting a fort. All roads lead to forts, and\\nevery walk terminates in a fort.\\nThe United States needs only to look at\\nher sister sitting serene among her forts to feel\\nhow excellent is peace.\\nHalifax itself is a disappointment, one\\nmight even say a shock. After having been\\nadvised to go there all one s life, one finally\\ngoes, to find this city of great expectations\\nneither beautiful nor picturesque, in short,\\nnothing better than commonplace, a mere hud-\\ndle of narrow gloomy streets and cheap build-\\nings and it is dirty, too, being addicted to the\\nintemperate use of soft coal, a pernicious\\nhabit which spoils so many towns in the United\\nStates which might be charming but for it.\\nOne feels resentment, too, toward Halifax\\nfor being a mean city when nature has been\\nso lavish with her sparkling waters, her pic-\\nturesque hills, and her enchanting outlooks.\\nHalifax, set as she is, ought to be a gem, a\\n134", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0164.jp2"}, "165": {"fulltext": "Halifax\\ndelight to the eye. She ought to be ashamed\\nof being less than that.\\nBut she is not a gem, and she is not ashamed.\\nShe is puffed up with pride. She is proud of\\nher soldiers and of her forts, of her parks, and\\nof her public buildings, and of her harbour.\\nShe has red-coated soldiers, and many of them.\\nThey are more numerous even than the forts,\\nand they are always on the streets, where they\\nlend a certain appearance of festivity to the\\notherwise dull town. Their presence is deco-\\nrative, but individually these soldiers are not\\nvery impressive. Many of them are certainly\\nround-shouldered and with their bright red\\ncoats and tiny round caps perched on an angle\\nof the head and held in place by straps under\\nthe chin, they look so irresistibly like the long-\\ntailed gentleman who sits on the hand-organ\\nand doffs his cap for pennies, that it is difficult\\nto contemplate them with the respect due to\\ntheir glorious calling. They are gathered in\\nfrom the remote districts of the mother coun-\\ntry, and present the appearance of having been\\ngathered recently and before they were quite\\nripe.\\nAs to the forts, if a city wishes to glory in\\n135", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0165.jp2"}, "166": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nthe appliances of war, Halifax undoubtedly has\\ncause. Naturally one s first visit is to the\\ncitadel rising from the heart of the town.\\nUntil recently strangers were not allowed to\\nenter it, but now any one is welcome to walk\\nabout the ramparts and look down into the\\nmoat but no stranger may go inside the fort\\nnor make any drawings of any part of it, nor\\nuse the reprehensible kodak, as a wicked\\nAmerican was caught doing some years\\nago, to the confusion of the British Govern-\\nment and the betrayal of the mighty citadel of\\nHalifax. He probably wanted the pictures for\\nhis album, but his innocent thirst for photo-\\ngraphic distinction resulted in closing the cita-\\ndel to his countrymen for several years.\\nThere is a fine view from the citadel, and the\\ntown lies spread at one s feet with all its sins\\nupon it. But, after all, there is a certain quaint\\nflavour about the place, and the water-front is\\nin part really picturesque, with the ships from\\nall ports of the world lying at anchor or un-\\nloading at the wharves.\\nWhatever may or may not be said for the\\ncity of Halifax itself, there is no fault to be\\nfound with its very beautiful harbour. The\\n136", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0166.jp2"}, "167": {"fulltext": "Halifax\\npeople say it is one of the finest harbours in\\nthe whole world, and notwithstanding their\\ninterested statement one can easily believe it.\\nHalifax has its Public Gardens within the\\ntown; and just outside is Point Pleasant Park,\\na large tract of land for the most part in a state\\nof nature, and very charming nature, with its\\nforest trees and outcropping rocks and its out-\\nlooks over land and water. At one point a\\nlittle patch of Scotch heather is growing. How\\nit came there we did not learn, whether by ac-\\ncident or design, and how long it will remain\\nwe cannot predict, as visitors are allowed to\\ngather it without restraint.\\nUnfortunately, Halifax yields to the weak-\\nness of boasting of her public buildings and it\\nis only after the Government House, the\\nParliament House, and the new freestone\\npost-office have been fairly faced and found\\nwanting according to non-provincial standards\\nof beauty and magnificence, that the disappoint-\\nment in Halifax as a city is complete.\\nThere is a tradition to the effect that woollen\\nand leather goods are very cheap and of un-\\nusual excellence in this highly fortified town,\\nbut like other traditions this has but a slight\\n137", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0167.jp2"}, "168": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nfoundation in fact, with the exception of the\\nEnglish traveUing rugs.\\nThese were a delight to the eye and a men-\\nace to the purse, as it was impossible to refrain\\nfrom buying more than we needed, an act of\\nextravagance which we basely excused by cast-\\ning the blame upon Cape Breton. For thither\\nwe were bound and we hope any one will agree\\nwith us that it would not be safe to enter that\\nfrigid region without several English travelling\\nrugs of fine texture and pleasing colours.\\nHalifax still keeps market-day. Its observ-\\nance is not as important as formerly, when on\\nthat day only could the citizens get their\\ngarden supphes. Now there are shops where\\nfresh vegetables are sold as in other cities, and\\nthe old market-days Wednesday and Satur-\\nday have lessened in importance and no\\ndoubt in pomp. Their chief patrons now are\\nthe poorer class of housekeepers, yet one being\\nin Halifax on market-day should certainly visit\\nthe market. Its scene of action is the side-\\nwalks and streets around the post-office square.\\nHere at an early hour the country folk with\\ntheir loads begin to congregate.\\nThe visitor would do well to go rather early\\n138", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0168.jp2"}, "169": {"fulltext": "Ha life\\nax\\nin the morning before the crowd of buyers\\nhas assembled, else, jostled by the throng,\\nhe will find himself in a position analogous\\nto that of the hero in Yankee Doodle who\\ncould not see the town there were so many\\nhouses.\\nOne cannot see the market there are so\\nmany people. When seen in the autumn it\\nconsists of many waggons bearing loads of\\nbloomy cabbages, yellow shining pumpkins,\\nbrown-skinned potatoes, red beets, yellow car-\\nrots, and other cheery-looking vegetables,\\nbacked up against the curbstone.\\nWhat is there about newly gathered vege-\\ntables that makes one always want to stop and\\nlook It is something besides their bright\\ncolours and their picturesque effect. It is faint\\nmemories of happy childhood hours spent on the\\nfarm, and beyond that it is the love latent or\\nactive in every heart, for mother earth, from\\nwhose bosom come these gifts.\\nThe waggons and their loads were the best\\npart of the show. Far outnumbering them\\nwere the men, women, and boys, chiefly women,\\nwho stood or sat on the curbstones surrounded\\nby baskets of things to sell or there might\\n139", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0169.jp2"}, "170": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nbe but one small basket containing the week s\\ngleanings from the home-patch.\\nEggs were so plenty that we were in danger\\nof literally walking on eggs, and we picked\\nour way in fear and trembling. Baskets con-\\ntaining little deep-red, upland cranberries or\\ndark blue huckleberries gaily called our atten-\\ntion from the all-absorbing eggs, and one little\\nold grandmother had come with two or three\\npints of belated red raspberries.\\nNear by a woman had a plucked fowl and\\na handful of parsley.\\nA boy sat listlessly beside a pail of snails,\\nunconscious that they were seizing the oppor-\\ntunity to crawl over the sides of their prison\\nand away from culinary distinction, down the\\ncrowded sidewalk in a vain search for the sea.\\nA man near by had a leg of lamb in his\\nbasket, and another had three large eels that\\nacted as if they would like to follow the ex-\\nample set by the snails, but their keeper was\\nalert and their hopes defeated by circumstances\\nover which they had no control.\\nOne corner was bright with the flower-\\nvenders, who presented large trays of migno-\\nnette, sweet peas, and many old-fashioned\\n140", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0170.jp2"}, "171": {"fulltext": "Halifax\\ngarden posies to the passer-by, while near them\\nthe herb-woman held enormous bouquets of\\ngray-looking herbs that exhaled a savour of\\ncoming turkey-dressing and seed-cakes. Not\\nfar from the flower-women were gathered to-\\ngether some Preston Negroes with their\\ncontributions of eggs and onions. They were\\nthe basket-makers for this whole camp, for\\neverything was displayed in baskets, most of\\nthem after one pattern, and all made by the\\nnegroes of Preston. They were pretty baskets,\\nstrong and of unique design.\\nOf course there were Indians. What would\\nan open-air market in the north amount to\\nwithout them They were across the street\\nand by themselves, and truth compels one to\\nconfess they were not interesting. They had,\\nas it were, fallen between the races, and pos-\\nsessed neither the charm of the savage nor the\\nadvantages of the civilised state. Most of\\nthem were half-breeds, and all of them were\\ndressed in the cast-off clothing of the white\\npeople. They had toy bows and arrows for\\nsale and tawdry ornaments such as can be\\nbought by the quantity in any city of the\\nUnited States. But they added some pictur-\\n141", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0171.jp2"}, "172": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nesqueness to the scene, as in colour and features\\nthey were still Indian.\\nFruit was a luxury in Halifax. The open-\\nair market was bright with vegetables and\\nflowers, but with the exception of cranberries,\\nhuckleberries, and small sour plums there was\\nno native fruit to gladden the eye or refresh\\nthe palate. So we had concluded, when sud-\\ndenly our glance fell upon a booth as bright\\nas the flower-trays with its assortment of\\nbeautiful peaches, pears, and plums. Surely\\nthis was remarkable fruit to be matured in a\\nnorthern climate, but to our amusement the\\nvender pointed to his wares and with mis-\\nplaced pride uttered the disillusioning word\\nCalifornia\\nThe negro in Halifax is an anomaly. He\\nis hardly seen elsewhere in Nova Scotia, but\\nhere there are so many that one keeps ques-\\ntioning the latitude. Surely one has made a\\nmistake and gone down South instead of\\ndown North. But a glance at the early\\nhistory of Halifax makes the mystery clear.\\nFrom its beginning this town seems to have\\nbeen a place for the reception of outcasts of\\nvarious sorts.\\n142", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0172.jp2"}, "173": {"fulltext": "Halifax\\nThither came the fugitive negroes from the\\ncotton States of the South, and thither were\\nsent the insurgent Maroons from the island\\nof Jamaica. The history of the Maroons is\\nnot the least romantic episode connected with\\nthe history of Halifax.\\nIt seems that upon the conquest of Jamaica\\nby the English in 1655 the Spaniards pos-\\nsessed a large number of African slaves.\\nThese people, called Maroons, refused to sub-\\nmit to English rule, but fled to the mountains,\\nwhere they exercised their ingenuity in harass-\\ning the English. After a long-continued and\\ndesperate resistance they were finally subdued,\\nand some six hundred of them sent to Halifax.\\nHis Royal Highness, Prince Edward, then\\ncommander-in-chief at Halifax, being g ;atly\\nimpressed with the orderly and handsome\\nappearance of these people, set them to work\\nat the fortifications on Citadel Hill, paying\\nthem the same amount that other labourers\\nwere paid. We were told that the Maroon\\nbastion remains as a monument of their\\nindustry.\\nAll went well until cold weather came and\\nthe negroes were removed to Preston a few\\n143", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0173.jp2"}, "174": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nmiles from Halifax and across the harbour\\nto spend the winter. Then the people from\\nJamaica, half frozen and half starved, wanted\\nto go home, refused to do any more work,\\nthen or afterwards, and became generally\\nriotous. Finally, the well disposed were re-\\nmoved to a place near the harbour of Halifax,\\nwhere they probably formed the nucleus to\\nthe picturesque settlement which we passed\\nupon our approach to that city.\\nIn 1800 the troublesome Maroons at Pres-\\nton were sent to Sierra Leone, having cost\\nboth Jamaica and the British Government a\\nvery large sum of money.\\nOther importations and exportations of the\\ncoloured race followed, Preston being always\\none of the centres of their settlement and the\\npretty brown-skinned girls who sit on the\\ncurbstone every market day with their berries\\nand eggs are descendants of those insurgents\\nfrom sunny Jamaica or of the fugitives from\\nthe cotton fields of the United States. It is\\nsaid the negroes are not yet reconciled to the\\nclimate of Nova Scotia small wonder that\\nthey are not and though many of them were\\nborn there, they sigh for the palms of the\\n144", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0174.jp2"}, "175": {"fulltext": "Halifax\\ntraditional land of their ancestors and have\\nlittle zest for the fir-trees of the North.\\nOne wonders whether it was the custom of\\nsending disaffected people to Halifax that orig-\\ninated the historic advice, perhaps less common\\nnow than formerly, to go to Halifax.\\nTo go there, however, is not wholly a punish-\\nment, and there is no reason why it might not\\nbecome a very agreeable place to go to in\\nthe summer-time. One misses the tides of\\nFundy here, and there is no doubt that their\\nsudden loss has upon the mind of the traveller\\nthe effect of belittling the charming coast about\\nHalifax. All other shores seem tame for a\\nlong time after one has known the mighty rise\\nand fall of the waters of the Bay of Fundy.\\n145", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0175.jp2"}, "176": {"fulltext": "XI\\nTOWARD CAPE BRETON\\nTO turn our backs upon Halifax was\\nto turn our faces toward Cape Breton\\nIsland, that unknown land of hoped-\\nfor adventure that lay farther away\\ndown north.\\nWe went by rail as far as Truro, through a\\ndesolate region of stunted fir-trees and loose\\nrocks like that with which the journey to Hali-\\nfax had made us familiar. Yet, after all, this\\ndepressing country may be about to yield up\\nsome mineral treasure that will make it blos-\\nsom like the rose in the mind s eye of its\\nowner. For in this strange land valuable min-\\nerals are ever being discovered in unexpected\\nplaces. Indeed, not far from this very region\\nthat we have scorned, gold mines have been\\nfound hidden among the hills.\\nThe gnomes of the rocks seem to have\\nselected Nova Scotia as their own particular\\nwork-shop, where they have fitted together\\ntheir strange mosaics of multiform geological\\n146", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0176.jp2"}, "177": {"fulltext": "Toward Cape Breton\\nformations, their rocks marvellous, and their\\nminerals and metals precious or curious. Fine\\ngold, coal, iron, and gypsum have made Nova\\nScotia famous the world over, and to these the\\nqueer rocky mineral-packed peninsula adds\\nmarketable amounts of silver, tin, zinc, copper,\\nmanganese, plumbago, pottery clay, terra alba,\\nsalt, granite, marble, slate, limestone, and grind-\\nstones. Doubtless this is but a tithe of what\\nshe could do an she would, and of what she\\nwill render up in the future.\\nAlthough we did not as tourists take pleas-\\nure in the scrubby country around Halifax, nor\\ncare for the commercial value of its products,\\nwe are persuaded that the geologist would find\\nit of surpassing interest.\\nShubenacadie is one of the early stops after\\nleaving Halifax. Naturally one looks forward\\nwith anticipation to meeting a place with such\\na name. But what is in a name Certainly\\nnothing so far as the actual village of that dis-\\ntinguished appellation is concerned.\\nShubenacadie abounding in ground-nuts\\nand also in Micmac Indians. The Shuben-\\nacadie of our imaginations continued to abound\\nin these things but Shubenacadie the actual,\\n147", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0177.jp2"}, "178": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nalas contained its whole stock of romance in\\nits name. If it had ground-nuts, it did not\\nshow them to us, nor did it bring forth any\\nIndians.\\nTruro was as disappointing as Shubenacadie,\\nfor the maps placed it at the head of Cobe-\\nquid Bay, the extreme eastern end of Minas\\nBasin, and it was but natural that we should\\nexpect to see the waters of Fundy there once\\nmore. Not so. Truro is two miles from the\\nbay, a bustling, manufacturing town of no at-\\ntractions, but with a great deal of smoke and\\nnoise.\\nA few miles away, however, is Maitland, near\\nthe mouth of the Shubenacadie River, a\\nfamous spot, we were assured, for the highest\\nof high tides, rips, and bores. This might be\\nso, we hoped it was, but we did not go to\\nsee. We had pursued rips and bores to the\\nlimits of human endurance, and if they were\\nat Maitland well, we sincerely hoped they\\nwould stay there.\\nOut of Truro we left the desolate waste of\\nstunted firs and loose stones and went speed-\\ning along the shores of a river with bright red\\nbanks, where maples, oaks, and birches mingled", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0178.jp2"}, "179": {"fulltext": "Toward Cape Breton\\nwith the dark evergreens. The way grew\\nwilder, and we had the exhilarating feeling that\\nat last we were getting away from the beaten\\ntrack of the tourist.\\nGreat beds of tilted and folded rock strata\\nrose above the train all sorts of geological\\nformations thrust themselves into our notice.\\nThe rocks here are not concealed and covered\\njealously from the inquisitive eye, as they are\\non most of the surface of the earth, but they\\nstand forth to be looked at.\\nEven in the swift passing of the train we\\nsaw enough to make us bow before the mighty\\nforces of fire and ice that so wonderfully had\\nrolled up the rocks like scrolls to be read, bent\\nthe strata of stone as though they had been\\nof parchment, and opened the secret places,\\nscooping out valleys here and burying moun-\\ntains there.\\nThen about us the hills rose, hills of stone,\\nalso the work of the colossal forces that yet\\nslumber in the heart of the earth. Time had\\ncovered these hills with soil and verdure, how-\\never; and they stood above and about one\\nanother in fine groupings, their noble slopes\\nexquisitely coloured with golden-rod and pearly\\n149", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0179.jp2"}, "180": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\neverlasting, and where uncut they were over-\\ngrown with silvery, tawny grass.\\nOne expected to see sheep scampering over\\nthe near hills as the train approached and un-\\nconcernedly nibbling on the distant ones, but\\nthis was not the case. Only here and there a\\nwoolly brother or two or three were to be seen\\nupon these exquisite flower-painted heights.\\nAcres of fireweed had taken possession of\\nthe burned tracts along the side of the rail-\\nroad, mercifully covering the naked and scarred\\nearth, as is their habit, their long pods curling\\nopen in a charming tracery of brown lines and\\nfreeing glistening clouds of silky white plumed\\nseeds, to fly on the wind and find out other\\nsore spots that needed their redeeming presence.\\nThe earth was not greatly harassed by culti-\\nvation grass grew freely, making now a tawny\\nbackground to the coloured patterns of golden-\\nrod, asters, and everlasting.\\nThe little village of Hopewell lies among\\nthe hills in the happiest manner, in apparent\\nrealisation of the wish expressed in its name.\\nIts houses are vine-covered, as hope-well houses\\nought to be, and there are flowers to profusion\\nin the dooryards, real Digby flowers.\\n150", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0180.jp2"}, "181": {"fulltext": "Toward Cape Breton\\nWe had undoubtedly entered a new world.\\nThe depressing sense of commonplaceness had\\ndisappeared life began to be again original and\\nbeautiful. The houses were picturesque, and\\nso were the well-sweeps that stood against the\\nsky.\\nThere appeared distant blue highlands\\nbeyond the foreground of tawny hillsides.\\nAutumn tints were beginning to soften the\\nwoods on all sides and a long irregular lake\\nsparkled down below us, with curving shores\\nand fairy-like islands on its blue bosom, the\\nwhole enveloped in a haze like that which\\ncomes in Indian summer.\\nThe country began to look unfamiliar and\\na little foreign. The brakeman s name was\\nSandy, and when he called out West Bemigo-\\nmishy with the accent on the last syllable,\\nand with a Scotch flavour difficult to transmit,\\nwe knew we had passed beyond the petty cares\\nof a vapid civilisation and were indeed nearing\\nthose dangerous mountain passes, those marshes\\nand Scotch highlands of which we had heard\\nand long had dreamed.\\nWe sped past more rounded hills, often\\nshaven and shorn of their hay, and often lovely\\n151", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0181.jp2"}, "182": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nwith their fleecy uncut grass exquisitely inter-\\nmingled with golden-rod, aster, and ever-\\nlasting.\\n^Qx i gomish Sandy s pleasant, sonorous\\nvoice announced the getting-off place for the\\nvillage which is not in sight, but which we hope\\nis as attractive as its name, lying as it does at\\nthe mouth of the deep-blue bay that comes\\nclose enough for us to admire.\\n^tngomish One should hear Sandy an-\\nnounce this, to get an idea of what the word\\ncan contain of joyousness and jollity. It rings\\nout the merriest of any towns names I ever\\nheard; and if yitv igomish is half as agreeable\\nas the sound of its name as delivered by Sandy\\nthe brakeman, I for one should like to live\\nthere.\\nBeyond Merigomish the mountains rise close\\nat hand. They are not grand or terrifying, but\\nthey ascend with an ample serenity that is\\nrestful. They are wooded for the most part\\nwith spruces and firs, lightened, however, by ex-\\npanses of bright-green deciduous trees. One\\nneeds evergreens to bring out the quality of\\nthe lighter greens, and also by their severity of\\nform to give character to the nearer hills. In\\n152", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0182.jp2"}, "183": {"fulltext": "Toward Cape Breton\\nthe distance their shapes are lost, and their dark\\ngreen makes black masses like deep shadows in\\nthe midst of the lighter foliage.\\nWe left the mountains only to find them\\nagain a little farther on. The near farmhouses\\nlooked pretty and comfortable, and there was\\nan occasional apple-tree bearing very small\\napples, as though it knew what was expected\\nof it, and would fulfil its duty as best it could,\\nthough its hard-borne fruit was apple in\\nform only.\\nAnd then, beyond the mountains, up against\\nthe sky, lay distant blue highlands like a dream\\nin their loveliness.\\nNearer to the mountain sped the train, until\\nwe found ourselves climbing the side of it and\\nlooking across the mist-filled valleys of another\\nmountain, its sides all sheep-coloured or clothed\\nwith fir-trees.\\nWe hastened through a continually chang-\\ning hill country that raised high our hopes of\\nCape Breton, for the landscape grew more in-\\nteresting as we went on.\\nWe left the mountains, and the country\\nsettled into a rounded hilliness, always agree-\\nable and always covered with the soft green\\n153", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0183.jp2"}, "184": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nplush of shorn meadows or the silvery, tawny\\ngrass.\\nAt one place we passed a village lying in the\\nstony bed of an ancient water-course, the little\\nsilver stream purling adown its spine being\\nthe only remnant of a once mighty torrent\\nthat had carved out the valley. Instead of\\nthe flood of long ago elm-trees now occupy\\nthe dry river-bed. They stood about the\\nhouses, fair, foreign forms in this stern land of\\nfir-trees.\\nhviii^onish the accent of all these names\\nending in nish or mish is on the last syllable.\\nSandy sings it out powerfully, but it does not\\ndance like the light-hearted Merigomish.\\nIt is a pleasant enough place, but one might\\npass it unheeded, did one not know that here\\ndwells the Bishop of Arichat, that here is the\\nSt. Francis Xavier College, and here the Cathe-\\ndral of St. Ninian, one of the finest in Canada.\\nHere, too, are large cheese-factories that minis-\\nter to the temporal needs of the people. Here,\\nmoreover, the people are descendants of the\\nScotch Highlanders who settled these shores\\nin the early part of the century, and here the\\nwild Gaelic speech may yet be heard, the cathe-\\n154", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0184.jp2"}, "185": {"fulltext": "Spinning", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0185.jp2"}, "186": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0186.jp2"}, "187": {"fulltext": "Toward Cape Breton\\ndral services being part of the time conducted\\nin that tongue. Considering all this, it is not\\nsurprising that Antigonish is a large settlement.\\nIt is said to draw a large part of its revenue\\nfrom its foggy Newfoundland brethren whom\\nit supplies with cheese and other provisions\\nat a good profit.\\nWe stayed only a moment at Antigonish, but\\nsped away and away and past a blue lake at the\\nfoot of blue hills. The haymakers were busy\\non its marshy shores with the last cutting of\\nthe season, women with turned-up petticoats\\nand bright handkerchiefs over their heads, and\\nmen plying the decadent scythe.\\nMarshy lakes and low-lying hills, beautiful\\nin the light of a poetic day, made charming\\nthis part of the journey, and then of a sudden\\nthe sea came into view, deep blue in the hazy\\natmosphere with distant shores of heavenly\\ncolouring.\\nStraight poplars and venerable willows\\ngreeted us as we entered the Acadian village\\nof Tracadie. Seen in this light, with the en-\\nchanting blues of the distant sea and the near\\ninlets, with the fair shores and the picturesque\\ngroup of gray-shingled buildings, the monastery\\n155", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0187.jp2"}, "188": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nof the Trappist Brothers, Tracadie seemed the\\nfairest of all the fair sights we had seen that\\nday or in many a day.\\nIt is wonderful what loveliness a certain light\\ncan give to the scene upon which it falls. That\\nday of days, with a golden haze in the air that\\nobscured nothing, but lent glow and colour to\\neverything, the hills and towns were enchant-\\ning, and Tracadie, as we came upon it bathed\\nin the afternoon light, might have been a vision\\nof the Elysian Fields.\\nLater the same country was traversed on a\\ndull, dead day when everything looked real,\\nwhen the landscape lay flat and no golden light\\nand atmospheric life made ethereal the hills and\\nvalleys, and Tracadie the beautiful had van-\\nished we could scarcely believe the evidence of\\nthe time-table, the name of the station, and\\nSandy s confirmatory announcement, when we\\nsaw Tracadie bereft of her halo. Beautiful\\ndelusion of the atmosphere, could one but\\nalways travel when sun and air were in loving\\ndalliance.\\nThe events of individual human life are not\\nvery noticeable from the window of a railway\\ntrain, but one little drama we saw enacted by\\n156", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0188.jp2"}, "189": {"fulltext": "Toward Cape Breton\\nthe wayside. A tiny cottage stood on a hill-\\ntop near the track and in the dooryard sat\\nan old man and an old woman, at work upon\\nsomething, we could not see what. As the\\ntrain swept past, the old man stood erect and,\\nraising both arms above his head, waved fran-\\ntically. The engine responded with a shrill\\nsalute, whereupon the old man bent himself in\\na profound courtesy almost to the earth. We\\nflew on wondering, and presently Sandy an-\\nnounced Harbour au Bouche with a queer\\nScotch accent to the French name. We were\\nless interested in Harbour au Bouche than in\\nCape Porcupine, a bold headland higher than\\nBlomidon, and, one should think, worthy of a\\nmore dignified title, for while one is willing to\\nallow picturesqueness to a porcupine, no one\\nwould think of claiming dignity for that spiny\\nact of nature. Cape Porcupine was outHned\\nagainst the blue sea, and in a few moments we\\nreached that sea, and also Port Mulgrave, the\\nend of the road.\\nWe stood upon Canso s shore gazing across\\nat Cape Breton, the goal of our desire. The\\nGut of Canso it is that makes an island of\\nCape Breton.\\n157", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0189.jp2"}, "190": {"fulltext": "XII\\nBADDECK\\nCAPE BRETON ISLAND is the wild\\nand rocky portion of northern Nova\\nScotia, which seems intended for a\\nbulwark against the northeast storms\\nthat come down past Newfoundland, which\\nlies a few miles away from its northern point.\\nThe island is cleft nearly in two by the sea.\\nIts central portion is a deep valley filled with\\nsalt water and affording safe anchorage to ships\\nthat come in through the Great Bras d Or\\nChannel, a narrow arm of the sea making down\\nfrom the northeast. Parallel to this is another\\nchannel, the Little Bras d Or, through which\\nonly the smaller vessels pass.\\nMany bays and inlets are given off from the\\ncentral basin, the southernmost and broadest\\nportion of which is called the Great Bras d Or\\nLake, while north of that and partly separated\\nfrom it by a point of land is the Little Bras\\nd Or Lake.\\nThe Bras d Or lakes and their branches\\nalmost cut Cape Breton in two, for St. Peter s\\n158", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0190.jp2"}, "191": {"fulltext": "yM\\no\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a22\\nJh\\nvU\\no\\ni^\\nJh-\\nc^\\no\\nT^\\n03", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0191.jp2"}, "192": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0192.jp2"}, "193": {"fulltext": "Baddeck\\nInlet at the southeast corner of the Great Bras\\nd Or Lake comes within half a mile of break-\\ning through the land into the sea at the south.\\nWhat nature did not quite accomplish, man\\ndid and a ship canal, cut through the isthmus,\\nhas divided Cape Breton into two main islands,\\nbesides converting the Bras d Or lakes into\\na safe water-way for vessels wishing to pass\\nbetween the north and the south coasts.\\nThe country of the easternmost island thus\\nformed has a very broken coast and is by far\\nthe best known. On its northern coast is\\nSydney Harbour, said to be one of the finest\\nin the world, only that it is blocked by ice for\\nseveral months in the year. Near the mouth\\nof the harbour are the coal mines that have\\nmade this part of the country profitable and\\nhave drawn to it a comparatively large popu-\\nlation. At the head of the harbour is the\\nflourishing town of Sydney, and southeast of\\nthat on the coast is the site of the famous town\\nof Louisburg that played so important a part\\nin the wars between France and England.\\nLouisburg was built by the French shortly\\nafter the Treaty of Utrecht, its location on a\\npoint of land to the south of a fine harbour\\n159", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0193.jp2"}, "194": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nbeing admirable for fortification. Stone walls\\nthirty feet high, on which were parapets and\\ntowers, and around which was a moat eighty\\nfeet wide, protected the town on the land side.\\nOn the side toward the sea it was guarded by\\nforts in the harbour.\\nThis Dunkirk of America was a constant\\nmenace to the English, and after twice passing\\ninto their hands it was finally levelled to the\\nground by them in 1760, thus relieving them\\nof the expense of maintaining it, and making it\\nimpossible for it to become again a rallying\\npoint for the enemy. All that now remains of\\nthe once proud French capital are a few grass-\\ncovered mounds. A little fishing village oc-\\ncupies its site, and Louisburg is but a name\\nand a memory of the past.\\nThe western coast of Cape Breton has no\\nharbours, and the country is very rugged and\\nmountainous, particularly the northern part.\\nTo the west of the Bras d Or lakes lies the\\nMargaree country, famous for its salmon-\\nfishing. This side of the island is but thinly\\npopulated, particularly the peninsula to the\\nnorth, which is a plateau surrounded by\\nmountains.\\n160", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0194.jp2"}, "195": {"fulltext": "Bad deck\\nThis plateau, which is about eighty miles\\nlong, is known to the people of the locality\\nas Cape North, although the Cape North of\\nthe maps is a bold headland that stands with\\nits base in the sea at the extreme northern\\npoint of the plateau.\\nFew people visit this very interesting pe-\\nninsula. It is not easy to visit, and its attrac-\\ntions as a rule are unknown to the traveller.\\nIt is peopled by Scotch Highlanders, and al-\\nthough it is traversed by that highest achieve-\\nment of civilisation, the telegraph, it has not\\nbeen civilised to any great extent.\\nSteam-mills and manufactories in the busy\\nworld outside have won the people from grind-\\ning their own oats to buying ready-made oat-\\nmeal, and from spinning and weaving all of\\ntheir own cloth to using more or less of the\\ncheap stuffs sent to them from Halifax but\\non the whole they live very much as they\\ndid before steam and electricity metamor-\\nphosed life for so much of the world.\\nHe who enters Cape Breton by way of Port\\nHawkesbury, across the Gut of Canso, will\\nvery likely be disappointed. He certainly\\nwill if he expects to step at once into a\\ni6i", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0195.jp2"}, "196": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nregion of wild mountains and picturesque\\nHighlanders.\\nThere are no such things at Port Hawk.es-\\nbury on the contrary, the country is scrubby\\nand uninteresting, and the Gut of Canso, as\\none crosses it in a wheezy little steamer, is a\\ndisappointing Gut to the tourist, not at all\\nworthy of its uncommon and confident name.\\nIts principal virtue is its depth, a wholly\\ncommercial virtue.\\nThat it is a deep Gut, however, and has\\nalways since the coming of the white man\\nbeen the principal passage for ships sailing\\nbetween the Atlantic Ocean and the Gulf of\\nSt. Lawrence, did not commend it to us.\\nThree miles down the coast toward the\\nGulf of St. Lawrence is Port Hastings, equally\\nuninteresting until one discovers that it pos-\\nsesses a historic importance out of all propor-\\ntion to its looks, for here the first Atlantic\\ncable crossed the Gut of Canso. The first\\ntransatlantic cable was laid from the coast of\\nIreland to the east coast of Newfoundland,\\nover the telegraphic plateau that provi-\\ndentially crosses the ocean for its support, and\\nin 1858 the first message successfully crossed\\n162", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0196.jp2"}, "197": {"fulltext": "Baddeck\\nthe sea. This message was transmitted by\\ntelegraph and cable from Newfoundland to\\nAspy Bay on the northern part of Cape\\nBreton Island, and from there telegraphed to\\nPort Hastings.\\nCape Breton Island lies in the line of the\\nshortest distance by sea between Europe and\\nAmerica; and so, remote as it is from the\\ngreat cities, it was one of the first places to\\nbe traversed by telegraph-wires, in order to\\ntransfer the cable messages receivede at Aspy\\nBay.\\nFrom Port Hawkesbury to Sydney there\\nis a railroad which crosses the water at the\\nhead of the Great Bras d Or Lake, where the\\nchannel is contracted, and where is situated a\\nsmall hamlet called Grand Narrows.\\nThe country between Port Hawkesbury and\\nGrand Narrows is rough and dreary-looking,\\nwith much gypsum cropping out white and\\nghostly in the wilderness. As we approached\\nGrand Narrows, we got cheering glimpses of\\nthe blue Bras d Or, and at the hamlet itself\\nuprising hills and blue water revived our\\nspirits.\\nWe left the train to continue Its course to\\n163", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0197.jp2"}, "198": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nSydney, for we were not bound that way.\\nOthers might go on to prosperous Sydney\\nand historical Louisburg but as for us, we\\npreferred to step aboard the httle steamer\\nready to puff its way through the shining\\nBras d Or waters to Baddeck.\\nThere is Httle tide in the Bras d Or lakes.\\nTheir entrance does not receive the waters\\nfreely enough to cause them to pile up, as is\\nthe case in the Bay of Fundy on the con-\\ntrary, the force of the rising tide is dissipated\\nbefore the water gets into this inland sea\\nwhich lies in its land-bound basin, calm and\\npeaceful.\\nThe Bras d Or lakes are pleasant sheets\\nof water with pretty wooded shores, though\\non the whole the scenery is not remarkable.\\nIt is very peaceful and pleasing, however, and\\nthere are many lovely coves and points of\\nland along the shore. And there is always\\nthe invigorating northern air to fill one with\\nits refreshing life.\\nBaddeck lies on the shores of an inlet be-\\nhind a point of land that separates it from\\nthe Little Bras d Or Lake. We found it the\\nsimple sleepy hamlet we had hoped for. Its\\n164", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0198.jp2"}, "199": {"fulltext": "Baddeck\\none street was unpaved, and its shops wore\\na submissive air of having done no business\\nfor several generations with one exception.\\nThere is one store of general merchandise of\\nsuch modern aspect and such activity as to\\nseem wholly out of place in Baddeck.\\nBut on the whole the village preserved the\\nsame Sunday-like serenity that so puzzled the\\ngenial author of Baddeck and that Sort of\\nThing, since whose visit years enough have\\npassed to revolutionise American politics\\nand see the rise and fall of more than one large\\nAmerican city, yet there sits Baddeck on\\nthe shore of her Bras d Or, just as she sat\\nthen, excepting that the old jail has made way\\nfor a new one. It was explained to us that\\nthe last prisoners put in the old one had dug\\nholes in the wall and got out to further in-\\nquiry our informant answered apologetically\\nthat he did n t think there were any prisoners\\nin the jail now, but added, as though to vin-\\ndicate the honour of the town, that they some-\\ntimes had one.\\nBaddeck is just as good and just as quiet\\nto-day as it ever was, with the exception of\\nits one flourishing store and that no doubt is\\n165", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0199.jp2"}, "200": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nthe result of American influence, for there\\nis a large house on the point known as Red\\nHead, across the water, and from a tall flag-\\nstaff near it floats the stars and stripes. It is\\nthe residence of Mr. Alexander G. Bell, the\\ninventor of the Bell telephone and some two\\nmiles or more up the road to the north are\\ntwo or three other houses from whose tall flag-\\nstaff s floats the emblem of our kind of freedom.\\nIn one lives Mr. George Kennan, not beloved\\nby the Czar of Russia, and every summer a\\ngreater or less number of citizens from the\\nUnited States find their way to the cool\\nbreezes of Baddeck.\\nYes, there is one other improvement at\\nBaddeck, a brick custom-house and post-office\\nthat we at first mistook for the jail.\\nThere is a curious sense of disjointedness\\nabout Baddeck and its surroundings. The\\nhouses seem set around anywhere, and the Bras\\nd Or shares the general sense of confusion.\\nThe water-view ought to be beautiful, with\\npoints of land reaching into the lake, islands\\nin the channel, and between the points of land\\na broad opening across the main body of water.\\nBut there is lacking that necessary something\\nx66", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0200.jp2"}, "201": {"fulltext": "Baddeck\\nwe call composition things are not placed\\nquite right with respect to one another, and\\nthe proportions are not good. Such is the im-\\npression one gets from the village itself, but\\non the higher land back of the village there\\nare points of view from which Baddeck on the\\nwater s edge, with its diversified water-view in\\nthe background, is charming indeed.\\nWhether Baddeck is old or young depends\\nupon the point of view. In 1793 it had ten\\nwhite inhabitants, which is ten more than Chi-\\ncago had at the same time. But Chicago had\\nsomething of an agaric nature which in little\\nmore than half a century has caused it to spring\\nto the ungainly size of over a million, while\\nBaddeck has had a slow and solid growth of\\nnine hundred within a century.\\nBaddeck s first inhabitants were disbanded\\nsoldiers, and her people now are largely com-\\nposed of the Scotch who have moved to this\\npart of Cape Breton. The names over her\\nshop doors are Rory McLeod, Sandy McLane,\\nMurdoch McPherson, or similar Scotch cog-\\nnomens. The place is largely Presbyterian,\\nthough a little building still gathers the people\\nof the Church of England under its wing.\\n167", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0201.jp2"}, "202": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nThe Presbyterian Church, large and barn-\\nlike, stands on the hill behind the town, and\\nthere is still observed the custom of repeating\\nthe services in Gaelic, for the back-country\\npeople have not forgotten their mother-tongue\\nin fact, many of the old people know no other.\\nThe difference between Sunday and other\\ndays at Baddeck is not observable in the in-\\ncreased stillness of the place, that is not\\nnecessary even for Sunday, but that one can\\nthen go to church. One can go to the Pres-\\nbyterian church and listen to a Gaelic service,\\nwhich is what every stranger does.\\nSometimes an English service precedes the\\nGaelic, which makes the meeting rather long,\\nbut sometimes proceedings begin and end\\nwith a Gaelic prayer-meeting, which was the\\ncase the day we went.\\nThe congregation, composed mainly of\\nelderly and unlettered back-country folk, con-\\ntained few young people and fewer children.\\nThe leader, who was not unlettered and who\\nhad a fine voice, opened the meeting by reading\\nin Gaelic. Then gaunt men rose and prayed,\\nstanding perfectly still and betraying no emo-\\ntion in voice or by gesture. They spoke in\\ni68", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0202.jp2"}, "203": {"fulltext": "Baddeck\\nlow mumbling tones that to us soon became a\\nmonotonous drone of unfamiliar sounds.\\nOne by one they got up and prayed and sat\\ndown, until we began to weary exceedingly\\nfrom sitting still so long on the hard wooden\\nseats, and were inconsistently thankful for\\nthe law which excludes women from also\\ntaking part in public services. Fortunately\\nthe praying was interspersed by singing, which\\ncaused us for the time to forget weariness\\nand to become lost in wonder, if not in\\nadmiration.\\nThe leader sang metrical Psalms in a voice\\nthat was not without dignity and music the\\nmelody was entirely unknown to us, and at a\\ncurious up-slide at the end of each phrase, the\\ncongregation joined in a chorus difficult to de-\\nscribe. There came a deep crash and burr of\\nmale voices, embroidered, so to speak, by the\\nmost astonishing and unrelated high soprano\\nembellishments from the women. It was\\namazing, unexpectedly and finely barbaric, re-\\ntaining a strong flavour of vanished centuries\\nwhen all the wild northern hordes struggled\\nfor supremacy, and when the inspiration to\\ntheir music was the crashing of waves on the\\n169", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0203.jp2"}, "204": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nwild coast, the shrieking of the tempest, and\\nthe cries of war. We both thought of wind\\nand water surging about a rocky coast as we\\nhstened, and there was also a suggestion of the\\ndroning of bagpipes in the male voices.\\nWhen the services finally ended, the collec-\\ntion was taken, and it amounted to only a few\\nlarge copper pennies.\\nThere were Indians at Baddeck. They\\ncome in the summer as to a watering-place, for\\nchange and recreation and to glean an occa-\\nsional penny from the American visitors,\\nand to sell baskets of their own manufacture\\nto whoever is in need of baskets. Their en-\\ncampment was on a steep hillside on the edge\\nof the village. It consisted of half-a-dozen\\nwigwams covered with birch-bark and shaped\\nvery much like the pointed firs that surrounded\\nthem.\\nThin columns of blue smoke were rising\\nfrom two or three camp-fires one morning as\\nwe drew near, and we saw an iron pot hung\\nover each fire by a cord from two sticks set up\\ncross-wise. Here was genuine Indian at last!\\nbut not unmarred by contact with the dominant\\nrace, after all, for they were unbecomingly\\n170", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0204.jp2"}, "205": {"fulltext": "Baddeck\\nclad in the cast-off clothing of their white\\nneighbours.\\nThe romance of Micmac Indian life is very\\ngreatly enhanced by distance. They live al-\\nmost as simply as wild animals, but they are\\nnot nearly as clean. Why is it one never\\nsees a dirty squirrel and never a clean Indian\\nUnless, indeed, both have the misfortune to\\nbe captured by civilised man, when the method\\nof their lives may become reversed, and the\\nsquirrel through vile captivity grows dirty,\\nwhile the Indian becomes clean through en-\\nforced scrubbing by the Government.\\nThere was a white child in this camp, a little\\ngirl of seven or eight, and the wildest-eyed child\\nwe ever had seen. She was dirty like the rest,\\nand at our approach fled as though the bad\\nspirit were after her. We saw her later caress-\\ning a fat squaw, who vigorously elbowed her\\naway. We learned her story, which was not a\\npleasant one, her own mother having given her\\nto the Indians. Poor baby, with her bright yel-\\nlow hair, and her skin gleaming white in spite of\\nthe dirt, what is to be her fate, brought up like\\na little animal in the midst of a race whose\\nevery impulse is opposed to her own\\n171", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0205.jp2"}, "206": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nBesides a number of Indian children, there\\nwere little dogs about the camp, as miserable-\\nlooking as starved little dogs could be, and\\nthere was a kitten with a woolly coat like a\\nsheep. It was a desperate-looking kitten, and\\nwho can tell whether its woolly coat was due\\nto the vermin that certainly infested it, or to\\nsome un-catlike, and ghouHsh foreknowledge\\nsuch as is said to be possessed by potato-skins,\\ncorn-husks, and gophers, of a hard winter which\\nmust be prepared for.\\nAs we receded from the camp, the pointed\\nwigwams shining white and tawny with their\\ncovering of birch-bark, the blue lines of smoke\\nwavering up to the sky, the moving forms\\nof children, made a picture pleasant to look\\nupon.\\n172", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0206.jp2"}, "207": {"fulltext": "XIII\\nENGLISHTOWN\\nWE did not go to Baddeck wholly\\nfor Baddeck s sake, but as well to\\nmake it a starting-point for the\\nplateau to the north which we meant\\nto traverse, roads permitting, all the way to the\\nbold headland that fronts the icy sea and ends\\nthe land in this direction.\\nThe people there are Scotch Highlanders of\\ngood repute, they having succeeded an older\\npopulation of bad fame and piratical habits.\\nCape North and its Highland fisher-folk had\\nbeen recommended to us at Parrsboro by Mr.\\nGibbons, a unique and beautiful character, pas-\\ntor of the Church of England, and lovingly\\ncalled by his people Parson Gibbons. He\\nis the only person of Esquimaux blood, so far\\nas we know, who has made a name for himself.\\nHe wore an expression of great sweetness\\nand earnestness, and was a man of so much\\neducation and culture that it was a pleasure to\\nlisten to him. His indomitable courage had\\n173", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0207.jp2"}, "208": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nenabled him to surmount all obstacles and take\\nhis place in the field of work he had chosen\\nand in the society that his education had fitted\\nhim fi^r.\\nHe had ministered for a number of years to\\nthe people of Cape North, as no one had done\\nbefore, and as no one has done since. He\\nloved them, that we could see, as in his sym-\\npathetic way he told us of them, of their hard\\nlives, their idiosyncrasies and their virtues, and\\nalthough he had a quick sense of humour there\\nwas ever love shining back of his laughter.\\nHe mapped out the route for us from Bad-\\ndeck to the extreme end of Cape North, and\\ntold us where and with whom to stay along the\\nroad.\\nAt Baddeck, we learned much of Parson\\nGibbons work, how he had gone once a month\\nthe whole length of Cape North, often walking\\nthe distance of one hundred miles over moun-\\ntains and through swamps. More than once\\nhe had stumbled into a friend s house, on his\\nreturn from the north, quite exhausted and\\nwith blood-stained shoes.\\nNo other name is so well known and so\\nloved on that rude coast, as we were soon to\\n174", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0208.jp2"}, "209": {"fulltext": "Englishtown\\nlearn, for even the faces of the children that had\\nbeen born since he left lighted when we spoke\\nof him. His memory is handed down to the\\nyounger generations and all, old and young\\nalike, when we were there, fondly believed that\\nhe would some day return to them. But that\\nhe will not do, for since this book was begun\\nthe brave and gentle spirit has passed from its\\nmortal toil. His death was the result of in-\\njuries received when stopping a pair of runa-\\nway horses, saving the lives of those in the\\ncarriage.\\nAt one end of the village of Baddeck stands\\na little church of unique appearance, which is\\none of eight in different parts of Cape Breton\\nand Nova Scotia which the great courage and\\nperseverance of Parson Gibbons had built,\\nsome of them in places where another would\\nhave seen no possibility of erecting so much as\\na shed.\\nWe were obliged to remain in Baddeck for\\nseveral days, partly on account of the weather,\\nand partly to make the necessary preparations\\nfor the peculiar journey we had undertaken.\\nOne cannot start into the wilderness without\\nforethought, and we had received such contra-\\n175", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0209.jp2"}, "210": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\ndictory information concerning the resources\\nfor travellers down north that we determined\\nto take with us the necessaries of life. In\\nother words, we were to become a pair of\\ngypsies for a couple of weeks.\\nOf course we had to drive, and for this a\\nhorse and waggon were necessary. A waggon\\nin which one must take a long journey is good\\nor bad according to the nature of its seat.\\nOnly those who have tried know how few\\nvehicles have seats that are not a mortification\\nto the spirit of man after he has sat upon them\\nfor three consecutive hours. Now, to select a\\nwaggon solely for the comfort of its seat may\\nproduce peculiar results. It did in our case.\\nWe desired to present as respectable an ap-\\npearance upon this somewhat Quixotic journey\\nas circumstances permitted, but circumstances\\ndid not permit of anything better than a small\\nand topless vehicle very much the worse for\\nwear, and with what paint still remained worn\\nto a dull and ashy gray. But it was strong\\nand had a comfortable seat.\\nIt had to be built up in the back to accom-\\nmodate our load and as the addition was made\\nwith new boards which there was no time to\\n176", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0210.jp2"}, "211": {"fulltext": "Englishtown\\nhave painted, the result was not quite what we\\nshould have been willing to exhibit to some of\\nour happily distant friends and relatives.\\nBut the people of Cape Breton are not criti-\\ncal and as a good many of them do their\\nown walking, our outfit was regarded beyond\\nthe town with envy and as an indication of very\\ngreat wealth and pride.\\nQuite as important as the waggon was the\\nhorse; and Mr. A., genial landlord of the new\\nBras d Or hotel, introduced Dan to us as the\\none horse in all Baddeck or in all the world\\nsuited to our needs.\\nDan was a rather small chestnut with a white\\nstar in his forehead he had a straight neck, a\\ntender mouth, a somewhat mincing gait, and\\nhe was a little stiff in the legs upon first starting\\nout. He hated to back and he had a nervous\\nfear of the whip. But to offset all this he had\\na large kind eye and as true a heart as ever\\nbeat in the breast of a horse.\\nAppearances were certainly against the dear\\nold fellow, and we remember with regret that we\\nrejected him after a short trial drive. But Mr.\\nA. assured us so impressively that Dan was\\nwilling to cross ferries that fortunately for us\\nw 177", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0211.jp2"}, "212": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nwe finally took him, though we did it under\\nprotest. We could not then understand why\\nwillingness to cross ferries should count so\\nmightily in his favour. Our very narrow-\\nminded idea of a ferry, based upon those by\\nwhich one enters or leaves New York City, was\\nto become broadened to an extent we did not\\ndream of then.\\nDown North is applicable to any journey\\nnorthward from the southernmost point of\\nNova Scotia. Up along, like the same\\nterm on Cape Cod, is used of travelling along\\nthe edge of the land, that long strip by the\\nsea which in both Cape Cod and Cape North\\nis the portion most generally inhabited. So\\nwhen we left Baddeck or perhaps better, left\\nEnglishtown we might technically be said to\\nbe going up along.\\nA clear, cool morning dawned about the\\nmiddle of September. The waggon was ready\\nand Dan, shining from a most unusual polishing,\\nthe last grooming he was likely to get until he\\nreturned to his own stable, with a strong\\nharness on his back and new shoes on his feet,\\nwaited our pleasure.\\nInto the back of the waggon were packed a\\n178", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0212.jp2"}, "213": {"fulltext": "Englishtown\\nfew necessary personal effects and also sundry\\nculinary articles of iron or tin and a quantity of\\nprovisions. A white canvas cloth, attached to\\nthe seat, was drawn tightly over the load at the\\nback, steadying and holding it in place, and\\nincidentally giving it the effect of a peddler s\\npack or an emigrant s outfit. Mr. A. gener-\\nously tied his own fishing-rod to the back of\\nthe seat with our umbrellas, over which were\\nthrown the bright new Halifax rugs that must\\nhave felt a little indignant at the figure they\\nwere made to cut. M. s sketching materials\\nstood against the dashboard, and under our\\nfeet, to her dismay, was a tin can of worms\\nwhich the stable boy at the last moment con-\\ntributed for bait, also a wrench, and a bottle\\nof oil to grease the wheels.\\nAs there was no room for it inside, Mr. A.\\nhad dexterously with a long rope tied a bushel\\nof oats and cut feed in a bag to the back\\nsprings, not improving their action thereby, but\\nadding materially to the general emigrant effect.\\nWe finally started, moving down the main\\nstreet of Baddeck with what dignity circum-\\nstances permitted, while the Sandys, Rorys, and\\nMurdochs stood at the doors of the moribund\\n179", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0213.jp2"}, "214": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nshops with their hands in their pockets, and\\nlooked on, speechless, smileless, and respectful.\\nIn a few moments we were out of town,\\nfacing expectantly toward Cape North, that\\nmysterious headland a hundred miles away, the\\nroad to which was said to be wild and lonely,\\nobstructed by mountains and marshes, and\\ntraversed by an occasional Highlander. Be-\\ntween us and these perils we had only Dan,\\nwith his new shoes, his strong harness, and his\\nkind eye.\\nWe jogged along the road to the northwest,\\nfollowing an arm of the Bras d Or that makes\\nup there and is known as Baddeck Bay.\\nWe passed the cottages of the stars and stripes\\nand bade adieu to them as though they had been\\nour friends.\\nMiles of wild fir forest succeeded to the blue\\nshine of the bay. Moss bearded the trees and\\ncarpeted the banks pretty snowberry vines\\nstrayed over the moss. Innumerable bridges\\nintercepted our way, and they were all out of\\nrepair. Under some scurried brooks, while\\nothers seemed their own excuse for being, as\\nthere was no water under them and no sign\\nthat there ever had been.\\nI So", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0214.jp2"}, "215": {"fulltext": "Knglishtown\\nIt was at these bridges that Dan s virtues as\\na highland traveller began to shine forth. If\\nhis foot went through a hole, he pulled it out\\nand like a philosopher scorned to notice trifles.\\nHe had a way of smelling of suspicious bridges\\nand if they exhaled no odour of security, he\\ngathered himself together and jumped over\\nthem, the waggon and its occupants following,\\nnot as they would, but as they must.\\nBesides the many little bridges that Dan could\\njump, there were longer ones that no horse could\\nhave jumped, and beneath them and along the\\nside of the road through reaches of fir-trees\\ndashed and tumbled and glided the wildest,\\nloveliest brooks we ever had dreamed of.\\nWe went slowly along, enjoying the lovely\\nroad and the bewitching brooks until we found\\nourselves hungry. Then we stopped and had\\nour first gypsy meal by the roadside. We\\nbuilt a fire of dry twigs on a pile of stones near\\na brook in a meadow where the fence was down,\\nand felt very wild and gypsy-like. True gyp-\\nsies would have done better, however. The\\nsmoke blew all ways at once, and the kettle\\ninsisted upon lying upon its side and pouring\\nthe water into the fire.\\niSz", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0215.jp2"}, "216": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nWe took Dan from the waggon and since we\\nhad forgotten to bring a halter we led him into\\nthe field and bribed him by a pile of oats and\\ncut feed to stand still. He stood and ate the\\nfeed, the grass beneath it, and the earth beneath\\nthat, while we returned to the unequal contest\\nwith the fire and forgot all about him until a\\npeculiar shuffling noise brought our heads out\\nof the smoke and fastened our startled gaze\\nupon him, not as we had left him, but upside-\\ndown, his new shoes sparkling to the sky and\\nhis harness writhing about him.\\nHe was without doubt the happiest horse in\\nCape Breton at that moment, but at our indig-\\nnant approach he righted himself in haste and\\nlooked deprecatingly at us out of his large kind\\neyes.\\nDinner was forgotten in the puzzling occu-\\npation of getting him to rights, and he was\\nbribed with another supply of feed to stand up.\\nIt was the middle of the afternoon before we\\nsat down to our hard-earned meal, and all we\\nsucceeded in cooking after a long and bitter\\nfight with our first camp fire was a pot of coffee.\\nStill, it paid, as any gypsy will understand.\\nHaving attached Dan to the waggon with an\\n182", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0216.jp2"}, "217": {"fulltext": "Englishtown\\noptimistic trust in the goodness of misplaced\\nstraps, we went on through another stretch of\\nfir woods smothered in brittle sage-green moss.\\nThen a clearing appeared, and we passed some-\\nbody s potato patch where large crows were\\npompously stealing potatoes. They cawed in\\nloud tones as we drew nearer, and went on\\ncoolly digging up their neighbour s tubers.\\nThey poked their stout beaks into a hill and\\nhauled forth a potato with an unerring aim\\nthat suggested previous practice.\\nBesides the crows the woods were full of\\nrobins. Such wild robins They were in\\nflocks and screamed at us and showed none of\\nthe amiable characteristics of the red-breasts of\\ncivilisation.\\nThere were squirrels along the lovely high-\\nway, tiny fellows with rusty red coats and\\nbushy tails, that scolded us roundly, though we\\nwere not conscious of deserving it.\\nWe climbed a long, circuitous, fir-covered,\\nbrook-bordered hill, at the top of which a\\nnoble view of St. Anne s Bay burst upon us.\\nFrom a calm sheet of blue water, mountains\\nrose in brooding beauty, stretching away and\\naway along the sea-coast to the distant blue\\n183", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0217.jp2"}, "218": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nheadland which was far-famed Smoky, or Cape\\nEnfume, as the French called it long ago, be-\\ncause of the crown of mist it usually wears.\\nThe contour of the mountains opposite\\nEnglishtown is peculiarly beautiful, the lines\\nof the spurs as they overlap each other are\\nfine, and the ever-changing yet eternal moun-\\ntains of beauty are repeated in reflections on\\nthe water below.\\nWe know no lovelier spot than English-\\ntown, lying on the lower swells of elevations\\nthat rise almost as high as do the mountains\\nacross the bay.\\nEnglishtown is enveloped in a mantle of\\nromance besides that of her beautiful moun-\\ntains and bay. One is astonished to know\\nhow old the place is, and that St. Anne Bay\\nwas an important and stirring fishing port\\ncontended for by both French and English\\nwhen New York City was still a quiet Dutch\\nburg. Indeed, the first settlements there ante-\\ndate the founding of Port Royal. But St. Anne s\\nhistory is full of vicissitudes; and though re-\\npeatedly settled by the French and English\\nalternately, no permanent village of any size\\nor importance has as yet been founded there.\\n184", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0218.jp2"}, "219": {"fulltext": "\u00e2\u0096\u00a0J\\nu\\n1\\nn Ail", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0219.jp2"}, "220": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0220.jp2"}, "221": {"fulltext": "Englishiown\\nIn 1597 the English ship Chancewell came\\nto grief in the usually safe harbour and was\\nwickedly pillaged by the French fishermen\\nsettled along the coast. Captain Leigh, com-\\nmander of the Chancewell, tells us that\\nthere came aboard many shallops with great\\nstore of Frenchmen, who robbed and spoiled all\\nthey could lay their hands on, pillaging the poor\\nmen even to their very shirts, and using them\\nin savage manner whereas they should rather\\nas Christians have aided them in their distress.\\nIn 1629, two armed ships of France, the\\nGreat St. Andrew and the Marguerite,\\noccupied the harbour, and their crews, aided\\nby their English prisoners, built a fort to com-\\nmand the entrance. This fort was armed with\\neight cannon, 1800 pounds of powder, pikes,\\nand muskets, and was garrisoned by forty\\nmen. The arms of France and of Cardinal\\nRichelieu were raised over its walls, and a\\nchapel was erected. But before the close of\\nthe winter, disaster thinned the ranks of the\\ngarrison more than a third of the troops died\\nof scurvy, and to add to the confusion the\\ncommandant assassinated his lieutenant on the\\nparade-ground. Later, an Indian mission was\\n185", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0221.jp2"}, "222": {"fulltext": "Down North a?id Up Along\\nfounded here by French Jesuits, but prosper-\\nity did not attend these efforts, and soon both\\ngarrison and mission were removed.\\nIn a French book, written by Thomas\\nPinchon and translated into English in 1760,\\nwe get a very good description of St. Anne,\\nor Port Dauphin, as it was then called.\\nPort Dauphin is a very fine harbour, two leagues\\nin circumference. It is almost entirely shut up by a\\nneck of land, which leaves only a passage for one\\nvessel at a time. The ships can hardly perceive the\\nleast motion of the winds, the grounds, that surround\\nit on all sides, being of so great a height besides,\\nthey approach the shore as near as they please with-\\nout danger, and the harbour is capable of admitting\\nvessels even of four hundred ton. The bay is capa-\\ncious enough to contain a thousand [vessels]. Be-\\nfore it is the great Bay of St. Anne, covered to the\\nsoutheast by the two islands of Ciboux and Cape\\nDauphin. The strand of Port Dauphin is of\\ngreater extent than that of any other harbour in the\\nisland and notwithstanding that there is plenty of\\ncodfish, yet this is not the only advantage of the\\nplace the neighbourhood of Labrador [the Bras d Or\\nlakes were then called Labrador] and Niganiche [Ingo-\\nnish] renders it easy for the inhabitants and the sav-\\nages to assemble upon necessary occasions.\\n186", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0222.jp2"}, "223": {"fulltext": "Englishtown\\nThe vessels employed in the fishery at Niganiche\\nare obliged by the king s ordinance to retire to Port\\nDauphin toward the fifteenth of August, because of\\nthe storms that rage in that season. When they\\nhave got into those harbours, they expose the cod-\\nfish on shore, where nature seems to have made a\\nbed for that purpose. Sometimes you see a hundred\\nand fifty boats employed in this business.\\nIt seems that the French were for some\\ntime undecided as to whether the citadel of\\nLouisburg should be built at Port Dauphin\\nor on English Harbour, as Louisburg har-\\nbour was then called. Port Dauphin was\\nmore impregnable but less convenient, and\\nwas finally rejected.\\nSt. Anne Bay is another inlet like those two\\nlong arms of gold that give entrance to the\\nBras d Or lakes. It lies nearly parallel with\\nthem, but does not reach more than ten or\\ntwelve miles into the land, because of the\\nwatershed which keeps it from forming an-\\nother arm to the Bras d Or lakes.\\nIt was an easy matter to sail from the east-\\nern harbours around to St. Anne and when\\nthere was any fighting going on, St. Anne\\nseems never to have been left out.\\n187", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0223.jp2"}, "224": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nIn 1754 the English came around in one of\\ntheir war-ships, a part of Commodore War-\\nren s fleet then blockading Louisburg, and\\ndestroyed all the French settlements on St.\\nAnne s Bay.\\nToward the end of the eighteenth century\\nthere was a remarkable influx of Scotch High-\\nlanders to Cape Breton and at the beginning of\\nthe nineteenth century ship-load after ship-load\\nwas landed on that island. It is estimated that\\nbetween 1802 and 1828 some 25,000 of these\\npeople poured into Cape Breton. They were\\nturned out of their homes in Scotland to make\\nway for sheep-raising, that having been found\\nmore profitable than the rents of the miserable\\ntenantry. The refugees sought the new high-\\nlands of a more friendly world, where landlords\\nwere not, and thus St. Anne and the whole of\\nCape North came to have its present indus-\\ntrious and temperate population.\\nOn the end of the narrow spit of land that\\ncloses the harbour to the storms and allows only\\none ship at a time to pass, a light-house now\\nstands, and another shines over the sea from\\none of the Ciboux Islands.\\nEnglishtown, too, is the proud birthplace of\\n188", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0224.jp2"}, "225": {"fulltext": "Eng/ishiown\\na great man, for here first saw the light Angus\\nMcCaskell, the giant, concerning whose hfe we\\nknow only what has been told us by the genial\\nand learned author of Baddeck and that Sort\\nof Thing, who ends his description of the\\ngreat man with the exclamation, Alas he has\\npassed away, leaving little influence except a\\ngood example of growth, and a grave which is\\na new promontory on that ragged coast swept\\nby the winds of the untamed Atlantic.\\nWe regret to say we did not visit his grave\\nnor his shoes nor sit in his chair we were so\\novercome by the unexpected beauty of bay and\\nmountain that we forgot all about the storied\\ndead until it was too late and we had crossed\\nTorquil McLane s ferry not to return.\\nWe entered Englishtown in the same lei-\\nsurely way we had approached it. It consists\\nof half a dozen or more houses placed not too\\nclose together along the road, and we were in\\nsearch of a long low house with a black roof\\nstanding on a hillside. Here lived Sandy\\nMcLeod and his family, and here we hoped to\\nspend the night. Sandy himself was not at\\nhome, nor yet Mrs. Sandy, but bonnie Annie\\nwas. To let us in, she opened the bars that", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0225.jp2"}, "226": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nclosed the gateway to the meadow at the\\nfarther end of which the house stood, and\\nundertook the offices of hospitality in her\\nmother s absence. Her mother had gone on\\nthe mountains for blueberries, which was good\\nnews to hungry travellers.\\nAs there was no one at home but Annie and\\na little boy, we, with a confidence partly as-\\nsumed, undertook the deliverance of Dan.\\nA collar and hames is a remarkable in-\\nvention not commonly used on a single horse\\nexcepting for heavy work, but it formed a part\\nof our strong harness. The hames is within\\nthe comprehension of the average intellect, for\\nit unbuckles and comes off, but the collar does\\nnot it does not open, and is smaller than the\\nhorse s head by any ordinary method of meas-\\nurements. We had exhausted mathematics\\nand the patient Dan s forbearance the sunset\\nflamed and waned unseen before the inspiration\\nseized us to turn it around, then, presto it\\nwas the shape of his head, and off it came.\\nDan s tortured ears and head being finally\\nreleased, to our infinite relief and his, we min-\\nistered to his comfort as well as we could in\\nthe gathering darkness, then went to the house,\\n190", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0226.jp2"}, "227": {"fulltext": "Englishtown\\nwhence proceeded an appetising odour of cook-\\ning clams. This was a sorrowful delusion,\\nhowever, as it proceeded from a kettle of rock-\\nweed Annie was boiling for the pigs.\\nThe mother came with a pail of fresh blue-\\nberries and bade us a cordial welcome, and we\\nmade a hearty supper of bread and milk, and\\nblueberries sweetened with brown sugar, our\\nappetites quickened by the day out of doors\\nand the odour of steaming rockweed.\\nAfter a night of such sleep as comes only to\\nthose who have spent the day in the open air,\\nwe wakened to a morning of splendour.\\nA neighbour tackled Dan for us, making\\nno comments upon the state of his rigging, un-\\ntangling and putting all to rights and making\\nour stanch little craft again seaworthy, with the\\ndeftness of a sailor.\\nThis handy son of Neptune also mended\\nthe holes the rope had worn in the feed-bag,\\nfor a fine stream of Dan s precious provender\\nissued from each of a number of holes at every\\nmotion, and we know not how far we had left\\nthis sign of our passing along the lonely road.\\nMeantime we talked to the pretty boy who\\nis heir to the McLeod estate, and learned that\\n191", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0227.jp2"}, "228": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nhe was six, that he did not go to school,\\nthough he earnestly assured us in the dialect\\nof Cape North, If I will be seven, then I\\nmight go, meaning that when he had attained\\nthat mature age he would go.\\n192", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0228.jp2"}, "229": {"fulltext": "XIV\\nFRENCH RIVER\\nTORQUIL McLANE S ferry is the\\nnotable instrument by means of which\\nthe traveller can find his way out of\\nEnglishtown to the north.\\nEnglishtown lies opposite the narrowest part\\nof St. Anne, which here may be about a mile\\nwide, but that providential tongue of land\\nmust not be forgotten which separates the\\ninner harbour from the outer bay, leaving only\\na passage for one vessel at a time, and\\nmaking of it a safe refuge in time of war.\\nAlthough not at present of military impor-\\ntance, the tongue of land still answers a very\\ngood purpose in shortening the labours of\\nTorquil, the ferryman, who Is a man of note\\nall over Cape North, and, for that matter,\\nmuch farther. For whoever writes an article\\nor even a letter about this part of the country,\\nnever fails to adorn the same with the pictur-\\nesque name of Torquil McLane, the English-\\ntown ferryman.\\n13 193", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0229.jp2"}, "230": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nTorquil must be pronounced turkle, and\\nCape Breton on the spot must be called Cape\\nBritton. It is supposed by some that the\\nisland got its name from the Basque sailors who\\ncame to these shores from Cape Breton near\\nBayonne, in very early times. Be that as it\\nmay, the Basque sailors are no longer there to\\nsee justice done their mother tongue, and Cape\\nBritton it is in the mouths of these former\\nsubjects of the British Empire.\\nTorquil McLane s ferry was quite as pic-\\nturesque as Torquil himself, and resembled\\nnothing so little as our narrow-minded ideas\\nof a ferry. To see it was to understand\\nand sympathise with Mr. A. s concern that we\\nshould have a horse willing to cross it\\nIt had no landing whatever other than the\\npebbly beach provided by nature. The ferry-\\nboat resembled a retired dory, grown broad\\nand flat-bottomed with increase of years. We\\nreached this promising form of transportation\\nby pitching down a stony embankment upon\\na stony beach.\\nTorquil was waiting for us, for had he not\\nseen us enter town the night before, and did\\nhe not hope and trust that we should be cross-\\n194", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0230.jp2"}, "231": {"fulltext": "French River\\ning his ferry in the morning He was a tall,\\nspare Highlander, and he surveyed us with his\\nshrewd Scotch eyes, and in a deep voice in-\\nquired, after the manner of his people, where\\nwe came from, where we were going, and what\\nour names were.\\nWe answered and looked at each other in\\nconsternation, for while we might get aboard\\nthe high-sided boat, rocking in the water, what\\nof Dan Could he and would he do this\\nthing We did not believe that he could or\\nwould.\\nWhile Torquil was taking the horse from the\\nwaggon, his daughter, aged eighteen, strongly\\nbuilt and rosy-cheeked, appeared upon the\\nscene. She had come to help her father row\\nus over the ferry, and was accompanied by a\\nlittle boy and a solemn-faced baby.\\nTorquil and his buxom daughter laid hold\\nupon the waggon and pulled it out into the\\nwater and aboard the boat, that vehicle going\\nthrough the most alarming contortions mean-\\ntime. Then it was Dan s turn, and we watched\\nwith bated breath as he waded out.\\nGet in there said Torquil the ferryman\\nand Dan got in It was a beautiful sight.\\n195", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0231.jp2"}, "232": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nHe pawed about with his front feet until he\\ngot them over the side and in the boat, and\\nrepeated the operation with his hind ones\\nuntil he was all in. Could he have known the\\nfeelings with which we regarded him upon that\\noccasion, he would have been a proud and\\nhappy horse.\\nAs it was, he was no sooner in than he wished\\nhimself out again, and it became necessary\\nfor one of us to stand on a seat and keep\\nhim from walking overboard, while Torquil\\nand his daughter pushed the boat from shore\\nand turned it toward the other side of the\\nharbour.\\nThe baby was stowed for safe-keeping under\\nthe seat in the bow, whence it peered out curi-\\nous but silent as became a Scotch baby.\\nThe little boy pulled at his father s oar until\\nhis face was crimson, and the strong-armed\\ndaughter kept stroke with her father. Thus\\nwe passed the perils of the sea.\\nAs soon as the boat grated on the pebbles\\nof the opposite shore, Dan scrambled over-\\nboard and Torquil harnessed him to the waggon.\\nWe paid the ferryman his fee and watched the\\nclumsy craft go back across the mouth of the\\n196", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0232.jp2"}, "233": {"fulltext": "French River\\nharbour bearing the far-famed ferryman, his\\nstrong daughter, his crimson-faced son, and his\\nsilent baby.\\nThis long narrow reef is a curious object\\nwhich, seen at a distance, looks more like an\\nartificial breakwater than a work of nature. It\\nis formed of large light-coloured cobblestones,\\nand the road over them was almost invisible, so\\nslight is the impression made upon them by\\nwheels and footsteps. Quantities of gulls flew\\nscreaming about us, and upon the bar strange-\\nlooking conifers spread themselves out. Broad\\nat the base, they were only three or four feet\\nhigh, grotesque caricatures of the elegantly\\nproportioned spruces and firs of the moun-\\ntains. Luxuriant patches of Herb Robert\\nwith red-tinged leaves and deep pink blossoms\\nbrightened the austere bar, and the Mertensia\\nMaritima was also in bloom, though we saw but\\none plant of it. It is as scarce as it is charm-\\ning and loves to adorn just such stony places.\\nUnfortunately for it, its pretty patches of blue-\\ngray leaves set on long stems radiating from\\na centre are very noticeable among the stones,\\neven if it were not for the showy flowers, rose-\\nred in the bud, violet as they unfold, and finally\\n197", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0233.jp2"}, "234": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nwhen fully open a deep pure blue, and they\\nfall victims to the passer-by.\\nWe are distressed to recall that we took this\\nlast plant, it may be thereby exterminating the\\nrace, so far as that particular cobblestone bar\\nis concerned. Upon realising this, we wished\\nit back in its place among the stones, ripening\\nits seeds. But it was too late. The delicate\\nroots could not be returned to the crevices\\nwhence they had been torn, and we regarded\\nthe quaint and pretty blossoms that lay before\\nus with a feeling of guilt which it is to be\\nhoped is the fate of all vandals.\\nPatches of fragrant juniper covered with\\nclusters of dusky blue berries were scattered\\nover the bar, and the yellow August flower\\nnodded merrily to us from its hard lot among\\nthe stones.\\nThe August flower, as it is here called, grows\\nall over Nova Scotia. It is a yellow composite,\\nsmaller and more delicate than a dandelion, and\\nthe most joyous of weeds, standing anywhere\\nand everywhere that it can find room for a seed\\nto sprout, and making the roadsides and stony\\nplaces bright.\\nOnce over the bar, the road lay along the\\n198", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0234.jp2"}, "235": {"fulltext": "French River\\nnarrow stretch of level country between moun-\\ntains and sea. The houses by common con-\\nsent in this whole country keep as far away\\nfrom the road and from one another as they\\ncan. We could see them set far back toward\\nthe mountains and protected from the dangers\\nof the highway by broad fields which lay in\\nfront of them.\\nFor some distance the road winds its charm-\\ning way in full view of the surrounding moun-\\ntains and sea, and then it turns inland and\\ncrosses the steep-banked Barasois River over a\\nnew iron bridge.\\nCape Breton is a remarkable place for brooks.\\nOne feels obliged to keep on saying so, for\\nthey keep on appearing, the most friendly and\\njoyous brooks sliding without a ripple over\\nmossy rocks, leaping wildly down the faces of\\ncliffs, disappearing, reappearing, murmuring,\\nsmiling, roaring, they were our constant com-\\npanions, delightful beyond all reason. They are\\nbrown brooks as a rule, a deep golden brown,\\nthough sometimes they are emerald green.\\nIndian Brook, which we crossed soon after\\nthe Barasois, almost anywhere else would be\\ncalled a river. It has a broad stony beach\\n199", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0235.jp2"}, "236": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nwhich tells a tale of flood when the glen it\\ntraverses between the mountains was filled by\\na wild torrent, for mountains of great beauty-\\nstand about Indian Brook. It is one of the\\nloveliest spots in Cape North, as the people call\\nall this northern peninsula. The mountains\\nthat enclose the glen are like those at English-\\ntown, while to the northward are seen the splen-\\ndid headlands that stop at the sea, projecting\\ntheir imposing individual forms in dark masses\\nagainst the sky. The mouth of Indian Brook\\ntraverses a wide flat expanse that in the autumn\\nis brilliant with the glorious colouring that\\ndistinguishes the salt marsh.\\nHaving secured a jar of milk and half a loaf\\nof sour bread from a wayside farmhouse set\\nwell back from the road on a hill, when the\\ntime came we had dinner by a brook-side.\\nCape Breton is noted and justly so for sour\\nbread, but there are exceptions.\\nCape Breton brooks might have been made\\nfor camping purposes, so admirably are they\\nadapted to it, and the one we chose that day\\nwas perfect. It had a broad bed of dry stones\\nwith a clear cold stream in the middle and\\nbushes and trees along grassy banks.", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0236.jp2"}, "237": {"fulltext": "French River\\nOn the dry stones, partly protected by a clump\\nof trees, the camp-fire burned cheerily, and\\nwe had a royal dinner, leaving the Cape Breton\\nbread to the discussion of the birds. Dan\\nhad several sheaves of fresh-cut oats, purchased\\nalong the way, and we were all happy.\\nThere was not a house nor a human being\\nin sight, only the sky, the cold brook, the\\nsplendid air, and the trees and birds for com-\\npany. Had we known as much then as we\\ndid later, we might have added brook trout\\nto our feast.\\nWe lingered long, lying on the warm grass\\nin the sun while Dan cropped about the bushes.\\nThe good fellow endeared himself to us quite\\nas much through his faults as his virtues, for\\nhis weaknesses were human like our own.\\nHe loved the midday rest. He knew when\\nthe time came, and sometimes even selected the\\nspot. When he had had a pleasant time of long\\nduration, he showed his appreciation by good-\\nnaturedly putting himself between the shafts,\\nwhich it is the custom in Cape Breton to hold\\nup above the horse but his opinion of an in-\\nsufficient play spell he expressed by meanly\\nstepping in sideways so that the shafts lay", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0237.jp2"}, "238": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nacross his back. This he would do time and\\nagain, resisting the combined efforts of the two\\nof us to get him in straight until he considered\\nus sufficiently punished, when he would turn\\naround of his own accord.\\nWherever we were, the same forms went\\nflitting ahead of us, the same uncertain colour\\nand quick motion, only the white feathers on\\nthe sides of their outspread tails betraying the\\njuncos and their sociable tsip, tsip, tsip^ telling\\nus we were not alone in the wilderness.\\nThe approach to Sandy McDonald s is over\\nundulating fields it is not on the highway, no\\nhouse in Cape Breton is, and it is not in view\\nfrom the highway. One goes there on faith.\\nThe track worn through the fields meanders\\nalong toward the sea, and one meanders along\\nover it, with no sign of what one is seeking\\nuntil upon climbing a hill the house is suddenly\\nin view, standing on the very edge of the sea\\nbluflF and flanked by a small barn and the\\nroofs of a group of buildings that scarcely rise\\nabove the bank.\\nThe house stands alone on that wild coast\\nwith the restless northern sea reaching out to\\nthe Grand Banks, and the nearer waters\\n202", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0238.jp2"}, "239": {"fulltext": "French River\\nyielding great store of codfish to Sandy and\\nhis fishermen.\\nThere is a wide and slightly rolling meadow\\nto be crossed before the house is reached, and\\nthis meadow, when we passed that way, had\\nbeen given a recent top-dressing of fish-heads,\\nwhich sent forth a mighty odour. As the\\nhouse was approached, however, the fish-heads\\nwere left behind, and the strong, clean winds\\nfrom the sea drove the stench landward, leaving\\nabout the McDonald habitation only its legiti-\\nmate odours of fresh and drying fish.\\nFish is the keynote to life at Sandy Mc-\\nDonald s. There is fish everywhere about the\\nplace indeed, man himself seems a subordi-\\nnate work of nature, created for the purpose\\nof catching and curing fish.\\nThe house stands on the top of the bluff\\nand down below are fish in all stages of prepa-\\nration. Down there, too, are the buildings\\nwhere the fish are salted and laid in piles to\\nawait their turn on the flakes.\\nThese dark-hued old fish-huts, with their\\nbriny odours and weather-worn aspect, give one\\nthe feeling that they have grown there like\\nbarnacles on the bank. They stand with their\\n203", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0239.jp2"}, "240": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nbacks against the bluff, and about them are\\nlarge frames roofed with poles, the flakes ap-\\npropriate to the scale upon which fishing is\\nhere carried on.\\nStanding about are large black iron pots with\\nsigns of extinct fires still visible under them;\\nand there are vats of livers and everywhere\\nfish are lying or hanging, the cod having the\\nplace of honour on the flakes, the queer-look-\\ning remnants of dogfish or skates spread out\\non the beach or hung up anywhere.\\nThe huddle of huts and great flakes, the\\nboats drawn up on the shore, are all of the\\nsame weather-worn hue and, seen against\\nthe sombre, treeless bank with the boundless\\nexpanse of the northern sea in front, the place\\nhas a wild and remote aspect at once unique\\nand impressive.\\nIn the narrow path that leads along between\\nfish huts and flakes we saw a small and shaggy-\\nhaired ox with a yoke about his neck attached\\nto a sled that would have graced an ethnologi-\\ncal museum, for if it was not the work of\\nprimitive man, it at least was the primitive\\nwork of man, which amounts to about the same\\nthing, so far as looks are concerned.\\n204", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0240.jp2"}, "241": {"fulltext": "French River\\nAnd Sandy McDonald owns the whole of\\nthis uncommon place. House, barn, store,\\nfor there is a store well stocked with fisher-\\nmen s needs next the house, fish-huts, fish-\\nflakes, shaggy ox, and primitive-looking sled,\\nall are his.\\nWhen we got there in the afternoon the\\nday s work was done, the fishermen were scat-\\ntered, and there only remained the evidences of\\ntheir recent presence in the fresh fish that were\\nlying about and the long, lank, newly hung\\nstrips of dogfish drying for the horses and\\ncows. They told us that a horse fed on dried\\ndogfish presently acquires a glossiness beauti-\\nful to behold.\\nFrench River runs over a stony bed to the\\nnorth of the house. It winds its shallow way\\nto the sea untroubled by the fact that the\\nMcDonald household has to descend the bank\\nto its level and carry back every drop of water\\nthe family uses.\\nThis is the romantic but extremely incon-\\nvenient habit throughout Cape Breton. Each\\nhouse is built as near as possible to its own\\nriver or brook or spring. If the land in the\\nimmediate neighbourhood of water is not suit-\\n205", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0241.jp2"}, "242": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nable for building purposes, so much the worse\\nfor the family. The little meandering paths\\nfrom house to spring are very pretty in the\\nsummer-time, and one is willing not to know\\nthem in the winter.\\nThere must be people somewhere near Sandy\\nMcDonald s, for we saw little children on the\\nbank above us as we walked among the remains\\nof fish that afternoon of our arrival. The little\\ncreatures seemed to belong to some untamed\\nbranch of humanity, they were so wild in looks\\nand behaviour, fleeing like wind-blown elves if\\nwe so much as looked in their direction. They\\nfinally flung themselves down on the top of the\\nbank and peered down at us, only their heads\\nvisible, while they would occasionally spring\\nup like a row of jumping-jacks, tossing their\\narms and gesticulating wildly. It was a strange\\nplace as the sunset glow warmed the sky and\\nthe great northern sea darkened, with the\\nweather-worn fish-huts, the great flakes, the\\nstrong odour of drying fish about us, and\\nabove us the grim bank with the forms of the\\nstrangely behaving children outlined against\\nthe red sky.\\nThe McDonald bread is not sour, and pretty\\n206", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0242.jp2"}, "243": {"fulltext": "French River\\nMrs. McDonald prepared supper, of which\\nwe partook with the family, consisting of Mr.\\nand Mrs. McDonald and their little boy, and\\nMr. McDonald asked a Gaelic blessing over\\nthe meal.\\nIn the morning we saw the real life of this\\nremote fishing-station. By the time we had\\neaten breakfast, the dories were already coming\\nback with the result of the day s catch.\\nHours before we were awake the fishermen\\nhad pulled out to sea, and there in the darkness\\nhad drawn in the cods, the skates, and the dog-\\nfish. We watched the boats come in, bobbing\\nover the water and all making for the same\\npoint, the shore where we stood. When a\\nboat neared the strand, it was headed at right\\nangles to the breakers and driven hard ashore.\\nAs it grated on the pebbles the men jumped\\noverboard; one of them threw one of the enor-\\nmous oars under the bow for a roller, and all\\nhands laying hold upon either side of the boat\\nwith shouting and laughter drew it, load and\\nall, up on the pebbly beach beyond high tide.\\nThe heavy boats were laid side by side so\\nclose together as almost to touch. It was quite\\nexciting and very picturesque, for the men were\\n207", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0243.jp2"}, "244": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nclad in tarpaulins and their speech was Gaelic.\\nAs soon as a boat was landed, all gathered\\nabout it to examine and comment upon its\\ncontents then the tables were set up and the\\nwork of dressing down began.\\nThe tables were the colour of the fish-huts,\\nthe flakes, and the sombre bank they had criss-\\ncross legs nailed to either end, and looked\\nsoggy on top, where the juices of innumerable\\nfish had been spilled upon them.\\nThe cod were mostly small the morning we\\nsaw them. We had not thought well of the\\npersonal appearance of the cod heretofore, but\\nmany of these were of a brilliant metallic brown\\nplayed over by shades of red and green.\\nBesides the cod there were quantities of dog-\\nfish, more dogfish than cod indeed and every\\nboat had at least one, and some of them several\\nenormous skates. Their semi-lunar mouths\\nwere placed underneath the front of the kite-\\nshaped body and were horribly paved with blunt\\nand rounded teeth that fastened unyieldingly\\nupon anything that came within reach.\\nIn each boat was store of squid for bait.\\nThere are no queerer creatures than these,\\nsoft, long, and cylindrical, reddish yellow in\\n208", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0244.jp2"}, "245": {"fulltext": "u", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0245.jp2"}, "246": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0246.jp2"}, "247": {"fulltext": "French River\\ncolour, with long tentacles growing out from\\nthe head end. The head end is spotted and\\nspeckled with bright colours, and up and down\\nrun lines of changing and iridescent hues, as\\nthough the blood in their transparent bodies\\nwere made of the essence of rainbows. Their\\nconduct is as queer as their appearance, for\\nwhen they are first pulled out of the water\\nthey squirt ink upon their captors, and that\\nthey are pulled out at all is entirely their own\\nfault, for the fisherman but drops overboard a\\ncylindrical piece of lead painted red with a row\\nof hooks bent backward around the lower end.\\nThis object the squid embraces, wrapping his\\ninner tentacles about it and so impaling himself.\\nThe instrument is not baited in any way, and\\nfor a squid to behave as he does toward it\\nseems too absurd even for a squid.\\nAs soon as the tables were set up, the work\\nof dressing down began in earnest. The\\ncod were taken first and whisked through the\\nprocess with great speed and no ceremony. A\\nboy tossed the fish from boat to table. A man\\ncaught it by the head, ran his knife around the\\ngills, broke its neck, slit it open down the\\nbelly, and sent it sliding over the greasy table\\n14 209", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0247.jp2"}, "248": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nto another man, who tore off its head and\\ntossed that into a barrel, tore out its insides,\\ntossed the liver into one barrel, the sound,\\nif a big one, into another, the rest of the in-\\nwards into a third, and sent the rifled remains\\nalong to another man who slit it down the\\nsides, cut out the backbone, and tossed what\\nwas left of it into a tub of sea-water, where a\\nboy swashed it up and down and laid it aside\\nready to be salted.\\nBut as long as it takes to tell of one fish, a\\ndozen or more had gone through the process\\nthey slipped along from hand to hand in an\\nalmost unbroken chain.\\nThe stomachs of the largest cod were opened,\\nto see what booty there might be therein, for as\\nFather Charlevoix, in his Letters to the Duch-\\ness of Lesdiguieres, published in 1763, says:\\nThere is perhaps no Creature, in Proportion to its\\nBigness, that has so wide a Mouth, or that is more\\nvoracious.\\nHe tells us that the cod of his day ate iron\\nand glass and pieces of broken pots, and then,\\nfeeling obliged to account for the consequences\\nof such a rash diet, he adds\\n210", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0248.jp2"}, "249": {"fulltext": "Splitting Tables", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0249.jp2"}, "250": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0250.jp2"}, "251": {"fulltext": "French River\\nNow we are convinced that the Cod can turn\\nitself Inside-out like a Pocket, and that the Fish\\nfrees itself from any Thing that troubles it by this\\nMeans.\\nThat was certainly a very convenient habit,\\nbut one not possessed by the cod of the present\\ntime. The cod we saw opened had made no\\nprizes excepting that three or four good-sized\\nlobsters in an unimpaired condition were taken\\nfrom one of them and laid aside. One wonders\\nwhether it is courage or callousness that enables\\na codfish to swallow a live lobster, claws and\\nall, and why the lobster allows it.\\nAfter the dressing down of the cod came the\\nturn of the hake and pollock, then of the\\nleathery dogfish, these little sharks being very\\nsummarily dealt with and not washed at all.\\nLast of all came the skates, their enormous\\nbodies, shaped like a Chinese kite, almost cov-\\nering the tables and heaving up and down as\\nthough the creatures were labouring for breath.\\nOnly a small semi-lunar section is cut out of\\nthe skate and used this is coarse meat, but we\\nwere told that when well cooked it is not ill\\nflavoured.\\nThe men laughed over their work and talked\\n211", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0251.jp2"}, "252": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nGaelic, and we had a feeling that it was as well\\nwe could not understand all that was being\\nsaid. They were a rude set, harmless enough,\\nno doubt, and when at home would probably\\nhave been found in the scattered houses that\\nstand so far from the road.\\nHere, at Sandy McDonald s, we saw the\\nwhole method of deahng with the cod from\\nbeginning to end, all but the catching of it,\\nand we felt quite willing to let that rest with\\nthe imagination.\\nWhile we made our preparations to depart,\\nall of the fishermen in their tarpaulins stood in\\nline and looked on. They were very quiet,\\nonly uttering an occasional comment in Gaelic.\\nThey made no effort to help or to hinder,\\nbut stood there.\\nProbably it was many a long day since they\\nhad been blessed with so diverting a spectacle.\\nAnd as for ourselves, we cannot remember a\\ntime when things proved so contrary, when\\nso many apples escaped and rolled around for\\nthe admiration of the spectator, and when pro-\\nvisions, personal effects, and cooking utensils\\nshowed such perverse refusal to go where they\\nbelonged. To see us harness our horse, ren-\\n212", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0252.jp2"}, "253": {"fulltext": "French River\\ndered our attentive audience speechless even\\nGaelic failed them.\\nAt the brow of the hill we turned for a last\\nlook at the quaint fishing-station, and there\\nwas the group of tarpaulins, still gazing after\\nus. We cannot shake off the feeling that they\\nare there still, standing in line and gazing\\nspeechless toward the brow of the hill.\\nai3", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0253.jp2"}, "254": {"fulltext": "XV\\nCAPE SMOKY\\nCAPE NORTH is the home of the\\nbalsam fir, whose deHghtful fragrance\\nfairly pours out in the heat of the\\nsun. It is as full of sweetness as\\nan orange-tree, every part of it, wood, leaf,\\nbark, and root, yielding an aromatic juice.\\nThere are blisters full of resinous sap on the\\ntrunks, old firs sometimes having quite large\\nreservoirs of this balsam and we amused\\nourselves by cutting into them with a penknife\\nand seeing the clear liquid gush out. It was\\nas clear as water with a sharp turpentine taste,\\nand quickly dried into a sticky glue. We cut\\na great many balsam blisters on our way to\\nCape North, and we hope the trees did not\\nsuffer.\\nAll the way from Baddeck to the rocky\\nheadland of Cape North, the houses are of the\\nsame mind with regard to the road and to one\\nanother. They are scattered far apart and far-\\nther as one goes north, and under no circum-\\n214", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0254.jp2"}, "255": {"fulltext": "Cape Smoky\\nstances do they place themselves close to the\\nroad, which they seem to regard with so much\\ndistrust.\\nThe fences are often as picturesque as the\\nzigzag rail fence known as the Virginia\\nsnake, though it belongs as much to New\\nEngland as to Virginia. Cape Breton fences\\nare sometimes made of small tree-trunks with\\nthe bark on, and these are laid together in a\\nmanner local to the place and pleasing to the\\neye. The gates are even prettier than the\\nfences and are more varied in design, each sec-\\ntion seeming to possess its own style of gate-\\narchitecture.\\nThe gates do not open into dooryards but\\ninto wide fields, somewhere beyond which the\\nhouse is safely intrenched. Sometimes there\\nare several intervening fields, and he who would\\nvisit must open several gates before he can get\\nto his neighbours. They are wide gates as a\\nrule, through which loads of hay can pass.\\nThe small gate, quickly opened and quickly\\nclosed, a sort of invitation to enter, is seldom\\nseen here.\\nThe people often shut their doors when they\\nsaw us coming, and upon one occasion an old\\n215", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0255.jp2"}, "256": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nwoman closed the house and made good her\\nescape to the barn.\\nShut the door on us as they would, however,\\nwe had always an open sesame in the name of\\nMr. Gibbons, and to some of them we bore\\npersonal messages from him. It was a beauti-\\nful sight to see the hard faces lighten, and sus-\\npicion give way to confidence at the mention\\nof his name. They eagerly asked news of him,\\nand sent back messages of this one and that\\none to whom good or bad fortune had come\\nsince his departure.\\nHuman nature is quite as human here as\\nelsewhere we discovered upon approaching a\\nhouse set back on a hillside one day. The open\\nkitchen door was promptly closed, as, crestfallen\\nbut not vanquished, we drew near. Presently,\\nhowever, the parlour door was cautiously set\\npart way open, and by the time we were fairly\\narrived the inmate was so industriously sewing\\nthat she did not observe our approach, this\\nnotwithstanding that she had been unable to re-\\nfrain from looking out a moment before to see\\nhow near we were. The woman was young,\\nand she was working upon a bright red merino\\nchild s dress, elaborately trimmed with lace.\\n216", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0256.jp2"}, "257": {"fulltext": "Cape Smoky\\nSuch we had not seen elsewhere in Cape Breton,\\nand promptly taking our cue we heaped upon\\nit the wonderment and praise it merited, while\\nthe proud mother s eyes shone and during her\\ndetailed exhibition of it we could not help dis-\\ncovering that it was quite finished and the\\nappearance of industry had been but an ingeni-\\nous device to bring it upon the scene. She\\ntold us she had kept the materials ever since\\nshe came from Boston, where she had once\\nworked.\\nTo have worked in Boston is a mark of high\\ndistinction, and gives a girl a right to put on\\nairs and be looked up to. She comes back\\nfrom there with ideas and with all sorts of\\nhousehold embellishments, many of which are\\nof a nature to make one hope they are not dis-\\ntinctive of the aesthetic status of Boston. To\\nBoston the surplus youth of a family find their\\nway, and Boston and the United States are\\nsynonymous in Cape Breton.\\nBoats at Halifax connect with Boston and\\nthe West Indies, and these ports are the known\\nworld to the Nova Scotian, besides Canada.\\nA woman at Baddeck, upon hearing us men-\\ntion Chicago, so soon after its Great Fair, too,\\n217", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0257.jp2"}, "258": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nsaid, Oh, yes, I have heard the name before\\nit is near Florida. It will be hard for Chi-\\ncago to believe this, but it is true.\\nThis unhappy state of affairs is doubtless\\ndue to the curious nature of the geographies\\nused and taught in the schools. It gives\\none a queer feeling to open one of them and\\nobserve the great size and multi-coloured ap-\\npearance of Canada, while the United States\\nis a little neutral-coloured oblong somewhere\\ndown below.\\nIn our geographies, which we know have\\nbeen made with a great deal of care, the relative\\nimportance of the two countries is reversed,\\nCanada appearing as a nearly blank upper\\nborder to the map, while the United States is\\nevidently a mighty nation, resplendent in bril-\\nliant geographical colouring. Could the Nova\\nScotian be induced or compelled to use\\nour school books, he would soon cease to be\\nignorant.\\nWe made many calls along the road, having\\nalways an excuse in asking the way or buying\\npotatoes. This last was M. s duty, and she regu-\\nlarly fulfilled it by presenting the large copper\\ncent of the country, and asking for its equivalent\\n218", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0258.jp2"}, "259": {"fulltext": "Cape Smoky\\nin potatoes. This was a language the people\\nunderstood, and the cent was always honoured\\nby enough potatoes for a meal, the only busi-\\nness transaction we had with these canny Scotch\\nin which we felt perfectly sure they were not\\ngetting the better of us.\\nThe houses contained four or five rooms\\ngenerally, though some had an attic as well.\\nIn the best of them was always a sitting-room\\nor parlour, its floor covered with home-made\\nrugs, and on the table were a few books of a\\ntheological nature. Opening from the sitting-\\nroom there was often a tiny guest-chamber\\nelaborately furnished with rugs and tidies.\\nThere was one ornament in several of these\\nhouses which we never had seen anywhere else.\\nThis was a chocolate-coloured card, whereon\\nwere set forth the virtues of a deceased mem-\\nber of the family in gilt letters. These cards\\nwere lying on the centre-table in the parlour\\nand though they did not add to its cheerfulness\\nwe liked them better than the silver coffin-\\nplates framed in black velvet which we had\\nseen hanging on the walls of a Massachusetts\\nfarmhouse.\\nEvery house has its rugs, sometimes beauti-\\n219", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0259.jp2"}, "260": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nful and always interesting. They cover the\\notherwise bare floor of the parlour, where there\\nis one, and make spots of warmth for the feet\\nin kitchen and bedroom. They are made of\\nrags hooked into a foundation of coarse\\ncotton cloth.\\nThe women save their rags and colour them\\ncharmingly from the bark of trees and from\\nplants which they gather in the forest and\\nsteep for the purpose. With these coloured\\nrags they work through the long winters, creat-\\ning marvellous patterns of flower or bird, or\\nmerely of combinations of geometric figures, or\\nof figures known to no science whatever. They\\nvie with one another and willingly endure much\\nweariness, for a large rug is a back-aching and a\\nfinger-aching task. One who has not seen\\nthese creations could hardly believe there were\\nsuch possibilities in rags. They are to the\\nwomen of Cape Breton what worsted work,\\nwax flowers, and various forms of painting are\\nto the country people of some other places.\\nBut here the occupation never changes, the craze\\nof one season is the craze of the next. Often\\nthese rugs were more lurid than harmonious\\nin their colours, but the most of them gave a", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0260.jp2"}, "261": {"fulltext": "Cape Smoky\\nhomely cheeriness to the bare raftered roomc\\nthat could not be dispensed with.\\nBesides making rugs many of the women\\nspin and weave their own cloth and in a few\\nof the houses the clumsy and picturesque loom\\nwas still standing, though for the most part the\\nlooms were not in place, weaving being winter\\nwork.\\nCape North homespun is not beautiful.\\nThe warp is made of cotton and the cloth is\\nharsh to the touch, and generally ugly in colour.\\nBut the great loom, sometimes half filling the\\nroom, is a picturesque adjunct to the cottages\\nwhich we hope will not be in haste to depart.\\nMost of the houses had no chimneys and\\nof course no fireplaces, a stove-pipe through\\na hole in the roof allowing the smoke to\\nescape. A queer cylinder-backed stove was\\nvery common, as if some enterprising stove\\nagent had passed that way within a recent his-\\ntorical period.\\nHow^the people manage to keep warm\\nthrough the long winters is a mystery, for the\\nhouses seemed to us in many cases but little\\nbetter suited to withstand the cold than are the\\ncabins of Southern Florida.", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0261.jp2"}, "262": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nWe were vividly reminded of the south, too,\\nby seeing women washing clothes out of doors.\\nThey had the same large black iron pots for\\nheating water over a fire on the ground. One\\nwonders how early in the season they begin it,\\nand how late they end it, and what happens\\nduring the long months of deep snow when no\\nclothes can be washed out of doors.\\nThe kitchen was the largest room and the\\nmost interesting. The dishes stood in a home-\\nmade dresser open in front, the plates and\\nsaucers upright in rows against the wall, and\\nthe cups hanging on hooks. There were\\nwooden chests standing along the sides, that\\nalso served for seats, and odd-looking little\\ncupboards hung on the walls, while various\\nobjects depended from the beams with pictur-\\nesque effect. Sometimes a wide bed stood in\\none corner.\\nThe men belonging to these houses are\\nfishermen, and the women do the work of the\\nfields. a^\\nThe women in the barley fields were a\\npleasant sight as we passed along, and came\\nupon them amongst the yellow grain in their\\nshort homespun petticoats, a gay kerchief tied", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0262.jp2"}, "263": {"fulltext": "Cape Smoky\\nover their heads, and the bright sickle in their\\nhands, for the barley is cut with sickles here.\\nOne in search of pictures of peasant life need\\nnot go farther than the barley fields of Cape\\nBreton.\\nThe men fish and the women work the\\nfarms. I asked a girl which was the harder.\\nOh, the fishing, she replied that is much\\nharder; the field work will be easy. She told\\nus the men sometimes went out at four o clock\\nin the morning and did not get back until four\\nin the afternoon, and all that time without\\nfood, for they will never eat on the boats.\\nThe people are industrious and temperate.\\nOne of them told us Cape Breton folks had to\\nbe they had to work continually, and strong\\ndrink meant immediate ruin.\\nThe fare is principally salt fish and potatoes,\\nstrong tea and oatmeal porridge. Each family\\nkeeps a cow and a few hens, and some have\\nsheep. No attempt seems ever to be made to\\nprepare the food in any but the simplest and\\nto our minds least palatable manner. The fish\\nis boiled, the potatoes are boiled, and the meal\\nis served without any further trouble.\\nThe children, brought up on a diet of oat-\\n223", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0263.jp2"}, "264": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nmeal, salt fish, and potatoes, scorn the luxuries\\nof an effete civilisation, as we discovered upon\\npresenting some bananas to the youngsters of\\na house where we stopped. They tasted, spat\\nviolently, and ran howling to their mother, who\\nwas as much mortified as we were amused.\\nWe thereafter refrained from proffering tropi-\\ncal fruits to children reared so near the pole.\\nIn the winter, it seems that those who own\\nsheep kill one, and this gives them the only\\nfresh meat of the year. Of course the poorer\\nfamilies do not have even this.\\nAt the time of our visit the mountains were\\ncovered with blueberries, the largest and\\nsweetest we ever tasted. These the people\\ngathered and ate without sugar or milk, and\\nallowed the surplus to lie and ferment, in\\nwhich state they seemed to be relished just as\\nwell, though they were as sour as vinegar and\\nhalf decomposed. No one took the trouble to\\ncook them or dry them, or in any way pre-\\nserve them for winter use.\\nWe stopped at some strange places in the\\ncourse of our leisurely journey, and the mo-\\nment of reckoning was always a delightful one\\nto M., who stood discreetly aloof and watched\\n224", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0264.jp2"}, "265": {"fulltext": "Early Morning on the Coast", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0265.jp2"}, "266": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0266.jp2"}, "267": {"fulltext": "Cape Smoky\\nher partner feebly struggling in unequal con-\\ntest with disciplined and inherited Scotch\\nthrift. No matter how pleasant our inter-\\ncourse with the family had been, when the\\ntime came for settling the account there was a\\ntightening up, so to speak, of voice and visage,\\nwe were regarded with intense suspicion, and\\nour indebtedness announced in a voice so hard\\nand cold as to be quite terrifying. The man\\nfor the settlement was always made with the\\nman knew he had charged more than value\\nrendered, and was prepared to combat any\\nremonstrance.\\nBut when the matter was settled, even if we\\nwon a few points, the former friendliness re-\\nturned, business was over, and whatever\\nfirmness we had displayed was far from having\\nlowered us in the esteem of these canny\\nScotchmen. M. said they liked us all the\\nbetter for it. They sometimes excused them-\\nselves by explaining that we had money in\\nthe bank and could pay as well as not, other-\\nwise we would not be able to take a cruise\\njust for pleasure.\\nIt was soon after leaving Sandy McDonald s\\nthat we pulled up short to keep from run-\\n15 225", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0267.jp2"}, "268": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nning over an old man who tottered across the\\nroad under Dan s nose, and then clasped our\\nfront wheel in both bony hands as though to\\nanchor us there. He gazed at us, and we at\\nhim, and finally we spoke to him, and he re-\\nplied, Sorr Thinking him deaf, we spoke\\nlouder, but he still replied, Sorr Then it\\ndawned upon us that we were talking in an\\nunknown tongue, and we inquired if he spoke\\nGaelic garlic they pronounce it here. He\\nnodded in the affirmative and also assured us\\nthat he could speak enough English, and\\nbegan a friendly conversation in his native\\nGaelic, which we on our part kept up in well-\\nchosen English, and thus we passed a most\\nagreeable half-hour, each saying exactly what\\nhe thought, without danger of giving offence\\nto the other.\\nTo say yes, sir, to a gentleman, and yes,\\nma am, to a lady, has evidently been a part\\nof the polite education of these regions, but\\nsorr has nearly superseded ma am, being\\napplied universally and regardless of sex, and we\\nreceived the polite responses, yes, sorr, and\\nno, sorr, the whole length of Cape North,\\nusually with unconscious gravity, but in the\\n226", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0268.jp2"}, "269": {"fulltext": "Cape Smoky\\ncase of pretty Katie McPherson it was the cause\\nof much confusion. We met Katie and sev-\\neral other httle girls on their way home from\\nschool. They stood aside, with downcast eyes\\nand fingers in their mouths, to let us pass, for\\nthe children here are very bashful, but when\\nwe stopped and inquired the way to a certain\\nhouse, Katie rose to the emergency and said,\\nSorr We repeated the question in a\\nfriendly and beguiling manner, punctuating\\nour remarks with a ginger cooky apiece, for\\nwe had brought a supply of these delectable\\nthings for just such occasions and Katie,\\nfrom amidst her gratitude and blushes, was\\nfinally able to articulate, no, sorr, then the\\nimpropriety of her remark burst upon her and\\nshe quickly amended, no, ma am, nearly\\novercome by shame and the fit of giggling\\nthat seized her.\\nI don t think, which seems to be the only\\nform of speech expressing doubt in all Nova\\nScotia, is also frequently heard in Cape North.\\nIt is rather disconcerting at first to inquire\\nwhether your road takes a certain direction and\\nbe sadly informed that he whom you address\\ndon t think. You will often have no diffi-\\n227", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0269.jp2"}, "270": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nculty in believing the statement, but in time\\nwill learn that it does not mean quite what it\\nsays.\\nAll along the way are rounded hillsides cov-\\nered with tawny grass and run over by large\\nwhite sheep with beautiful fleeces. The sheep\\nwere never in large flocks, but in groups of\\nhalf-a-dozen or so. Sometimes they would\\ncome tumbling down a bank by the roadside\\nand run along in front of us to disappear into\\nthe first gap that took their fancy. But gen-\\nerally we saw them on the hillsides moving\\nabout, or bounding in graceful undulations\\nthrough the tawny grass. These hillsides were\\noften yellow with the airy August flower, which\\nmay not have been nutritious, but was lovely\\nin company with the large soft-fleeced sheep.\\nIt being harvest time, we constantly came\\nupon distracting pictures of red-cheeked, short-\\ngowned girls among the yellow barley, stoop-\\ning, with one hand grasping the ripe grain,\\nthe other the sickle, and eyeing us curiously\\nas they stopped midway in their work, or else\\nstanding erect, arms on hips and sickle still in\\nhand, to gaze after the strangers. Sometimes\\nwe stopped and spoke to them, but seldom\\n228", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0270.jp2"}, "271": {"fulltext": "Cape Smoky\\nwith much result. The old women were often\\nseen in the barley patches, equally picturesque\\nthough not as pretty as the young ones and\\nthe old, old men were sometimes there, those\\ntoo old to fish.\\nThose were halcyon days, when we travelled\\ntoward Cape North in the sunshine, with the\\ninvigorating air about us, the barley fields yel-\\nlow with ripe grain and gay with the reapers,\\nand the sea with its white sails ever coming\\nunexpectedly into view, while the beautiful\\nsheep started from the fir woods at the road-\\nside or bounded over the flowery hills.\\nCape North is the artist s paradise from end\\nto end, and it is an ideal place for camping,\\nwith its fine summer weather, its refreshing\\nbrooks at short intervals, and its beautiful\\nmountains and sea.\\nOn the way to Smoky, one passes Wreck\\nCove, its name sadly significant, for every year\\nthere are terrible shipwrecks along this iron-\\nbound coast. Wreck Cove, however, in the\\nsummer-time and from the land side, is terri-\\nfying only in name, for about it are lovely\\nhills that make of it a miniature Indian Brook.\\nAs one nears Smoky, the houses and barley\\n229", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0271.jp2"}, "272": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nfields are left behind, the road takes a turn to\\nthe left and runs some distance into the land,\\nfollowing a very noisy water-course which\\nrushes through a glen at the right and which\\nis so far down that only the tops of the trees\\nmaples, birches, and oaks whose roots are at\\nits level, reach to the road where we journey.\\nMuch of the time we cannot see it through\\nthe intervening foliage, but again we catch\\nglimpses of bright, hurrying water.\\nThis is one of those mossy-banked roads\\none remembers with such pleasure and at a\\nbrook which crosses it we stopped one day\\nfor dinner, that we might be rested and re-\\nfreshed for the difficult passing of Smoky,\\nwith its wonderful views and its terrifying\\nprecipices. Over a camp-fire such as we had\\nnow learned to make with skill, we prepared\\na tempting meal of broiled American bacon.\\nCape Breton potatoes stewed in milk, hard\\nship s biscuit, French pickles, and a cup of\\ncoffee. For dessert we had capillaire ber-\\nries, exquisite store of which we found adorn-\\ning the mossy bank near which we rested.\\nCapillaire is the pretty name there given\\nto our snowberry, the daintiest darling of our\\n230", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0272.jp2"}, "273": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0273.jp2"}, "274": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0274.jp2"}, "275": {"fulltext": "Cape Smoky\\nnorthern mountains. Nothing could be de-\\nvised for a mossy bank loveher than its fairy-\\nvines tracing an embroidery of tiny leaves\\nover the moss, or hanging in a curtain over\\nthe edge, and nothing that grows could be\\ndaintier than its snowy fruit with its peculiar\\nand delicate flavour.\\nWhile sitting on the mossy bank beside the\\nsnowberries, we had the added pleasure of\\nbeing croaked to by ravens. We had expected\\nto make their acquaintance, if we were so for-\\ntunate as to do so at all, the other side of\\nSmoky, for we had heard they nested near\\nIngonish. But surely these great black fel-\\nlows were they, though probably we should\\nnot have discovered it had they kept still.\\nThe hoarse, rattling cry that revealed their\\nidentity and surprised and delighted us was\\nnever the voice of a crow.\\nOn a firm bridge we crossed the chasm of\\nthe deep-down brook we had been following,\\nand began to ascend a winding road. Occa-\\nsional outlooks through the trees afforded en-\\nchanting glimpses of far-reaching blue sea, of\\nbold bluffs that stood on the edge of the water\\nand of intervening valleys. Rocky slopes near\\n231", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0275.jp2"}, "276": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nus were grown over by blueberry bushes with\\nreddened leaves and lavish abundance of ripe\\nfruit while the round-leaved, aromatic winter-\\ngreen of our childhood deeply carpeted the\\nwayside. Heavy growths of ferns and brakes\\nfilled the hollows. We went slowly, even more\\nslowly than the rising grade demanded, often\\nstopping to enjoy the wildness and the sweet-\\nness of the way. As we went on, the expand-\\ning views and the greater depths into which we\\nlooked told us we were nearing the top.\\nNo perils of the way had been encountered\\nuntil of a sudden we came upon a ledge where\\nwere realised our hopes of Smoky and almost\\nour fears. On our left rose the wall of the\\nmountain, while between that and the deep\\ndescent to the sea was the ledge upon which\\nthe road had been built. It was a good\\nenough road now, buttressed by heavy planks\\nand widened by broken stone, but it was easy\\nto see how in other times it had been a slant-\\ning and dangerous trail where the traveller\\nmight have met with disaster. The view was\\nof the sea over the tree-tops that grew on the\\nlower slopes. It was a lofty perch, from which\\nthe sails looked like white dots on the water.\\n232", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0276.jp2"}, "277": {"fulltext": "Cape Smoky\\nWe passed this ledge and went on through\\nthe woods soon to turn a corner and find our-\\nselves upon a similar ledge and facing the\\nmajestic form of Cape Smoky.\\nIt stood across an abyss from us, a bold front\\nof red syenite rising nearly a thousand feet up\\nout of the sea in a very steep slope. Its vast,\\nstorm-polished front was bare and scarred\\nexcept where near the top the blueberry and\\nother bushes had painted it warm tones of red\\nand yellow. The hard syenite had resisted the\\nmerciless dash of winter sleet and the yet more\\nmerciless action of the frost to a wonderful\\ndegree. Instead of being torn and jagged, the\\nsplendid sweep of stone was smooth and in\\nplaces fairly polished.\\nThere was no cloud about the brow of\\nSmoky then the massive form lay before us\\nin the light of a clear day, sharp-cut against\\nthe blue above and the blue below, for the\\nsea line was high on Smoky s flank from where\\nwe stood.\\nOut of the blue sea the form of the ruddy\\nheadland rose in the clear northern air, while\\nback of it, though not visible from this point,\\nwere other iire-born mountains of yet greater\\n233", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0277.jp2"}, "278": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nheight, but all more or less softened by time\\nand clad in vegetation.\\nOnly Smoky s stern front remains bare to the\\nterrific storms that in vain assail it and that\\ncause the waves to beat with frightful but\\nunavailing force against its iron base. Filled\\nwith a sense of its immutability and impressed\\nby its stern grandeur, we wound along our\\nnarrow ledge and down behind the mighty\\nheadland.\\n234", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0278.jp2"}, "279": {"fulltext": "XVI\\nINGONISH\\nBACK of Smoky the road winds up hill\\nand down, through closely wooded\\nhollows and over barren highlands.\\nThe sea is lost and the glory thereof,\\nthe impressive and beautiful headlands that\\nabut upon the coast are not in view, the stu-\\npendous front of Smoky has vanished. We\\nfound it a road diversified by pleasing but\\nmilder aspects of nature, where the highway\\nfinally assumed the appearance of a grass-grown\\nlane, and where the trees were oaks, maples,\\nand birches.\\nThen came a roar like a great wind in the\\ntrees and a glen deep and dark opened along\\nour right hand, a turbulent brook shouting from\\nits depths.\\nWe followed this glen, now on its verge,\\nnow so far away that only the voice of the\\nbrook told where it was and finally we struck\\nonce more across barren ridges, and through\\nhollows where the fir-tree reigned; and finally,\\n235", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0279.jp2"}, "280": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\na steep climb, a sudden turn, and before us lay\\nthe far-famed, the lovely Ingonish.\\nIt was near the hour of sunset that we\\ncame upon Ingonish set in her mountains and\\ntouched by the sea. There is a glory of north-\\nern skies than which no southern splendour is\\never sweeter or more tender. That glory lay\\nupon the sea and the mountains of Ingonish as\\nwe came upon them.\\nA river broke through the hills to the north\\nand found its way into a bay almost closed by\\na cobblestone bar similar to that of English-\\ntown, but on a much larger scale. Beyond the\\nbar lay another calm bay, while mountains of\\nexquisite beauty rose tier upon tier from the\\nvery water s edge and half encircled the Bay of\\nIngonish. We descended a steep hill that\\nturned on itself in a sudden curve, and soon\\nfound ourselves on the shore facing the Ingo-\\nnish ferry, which is far more formidable than\\nthe one at Englishtown. The surf ground the\\npebbles on the shore, and we had to be rowed\\nover a long stretch of restless sea to the cob-\\nblestone bar. But Dan did not disappoint us;\\nhe climbed into the ferryboat at Ingonish as\\ncleverly as he had into the one at Englishtown.\\n236", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0280.jp2"}, "281": {"fulltext": "Ingonish\\nWe were touched by the exceeding beauty\\nof the mountains as we looked back toward the\\nshore. To our left lay Smoky, for we now\\nsaw the opposite side of that fine headland.\\nIt swept up from the sea, but not in an\\nunbroken line, for on this side itwas buttressed\\nby cliffs, while about its brow had collected the\\nmist wraiths that give it its name. In front of\\nus and to the right, mountain looked above\\nmountain encircling the water with gracious\\nforms of divinest colour, for over the earth the\\nsetting sun had spread a glow that made\\npoetical the mountains, deepening the shadows\\nin the hollows and softening the beautiful\\noutlines. In the sky above and reflecting over\\nland and sea was a strange and delicious har-\\nmony of dark purples, blues, and greens\\nwhile against the sky Smoky s red front caught\\na deeper and a softer hue.\\nThere was a sense of great calm and un-\\nutterable peace in the scene. The world\\nseemed too fair for strife or unrest of any kind.\\nIt was a rare moment, and the South Bay of\\nIngonish will always stay in our memories as\\none of the loveliest scenes we ever beheld. It\\nis lovely not only at sunset or at sunrise, but\\n237", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0281.jp2"}, "282": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nwhat is more rare, even at midday. The\\nmountains have a marvellous charm of com-\\nposition, the finest view being near the shore\\nof the mainland, though from any point it can-\\nnot fail to give pleasure.\\nThere is an island at the mouth of the\\nharbour which shuts it from the force of the sea,\\nand upon which stands the inevitable light-\\nhouse.\\nWe crossed the ferry to the cobblestone\\nbar, where stood some fish-huts and a boat-\\nlanding, for the boat stops here on its way\\nfrom Hahfax to Newfoundland.\\nBeyond the bar was a beautiful beach pro-\\ntected by a rocky point of land from the force\\nof the sea, that otherwise would soon have\\ncovered it with cobblestones. We were told\\nthat the water here is as warm as that much\\nfarther south, and that the bathing in the\\nsummer months is delightful.\\nThere was a tent close to the house where\\nwe stayed, and here was a doctor, who, being\\nin need of rest and a little fishing, had been\\nspending the summer. It was to him we owed\\nour introduction to the art of angling.\\nIt is true we had Mr. A. s rod along, but it\\n238", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0282.jp2"}, "283": {"fulltext": "Ing\\nonis,\\nwas still strapped to the back of the seat, for\\nour experience in fishing dated a long way\\nback and had been of a very simple nature,\\nand we had too much respect for the mysteries\\nof the craft to trust to the memories of our\\nchildhood. But encouraged by the learned\\ndoctor, we cast our line into the waters of the\\nbay, standing meanwhile on the loose boards\\nof a peculiarly rickety wharf, and drew forth\\nmany smelts.\\nThere is a curious and irresistible fascina-\\ntion connected with pulling fish out of the\\nwater that admits of no reasonable explanation.\\nIt ensnares the victim, regardless of sex or\\nprevious habits, and to my bewilderment it\\nensnared my companion, the most tender-\\nhearted of mortals, and who up to that time\\nhad shuddered at the thought of touching a\\ncold, wet fish.\\nShe was standing on the wharf watching\\nus when the doctor, ignorant of her distaste\\nfor angling, in the kindness of his heart\\nput his rod into her hand, which she, out\\nof politeness, held for a moment. But this\\nmoment was fatal. There came a twitch to\\nthe line that sent a strange thrill through\\n239", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0283.jp2"}, "284": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nher, and with glowing eyes she landed a\\nsmelt.\\nThe gods play strange pranks with us poor\\nmortals, and never did they play a stranger\\nthan when they converted M. into the most\\ninveterate disciple of Izaak Walton through\\nthe medium of one wretched little salt-water\\nsmelt.\\nIn this case, catching the fish had the very\\nagreeable sequence of cooking them out of\\ndoors and eating them.\\nOur gypsy dinners cooked at noon by the\\nwayside were the one substantial meal of the\\nday, breakfast and supper consisting of oat-\\nmeal porridge, sometimes without milk, and\\ntoasted bread, sour, as a rule, though if we\\nasked for them, we could generally get an egg\\nand some salt fish.\\nBut those midday meals the flavour of them,\\nwith the aroma of the wood-fire clinging about\\nthe viands, and the hunger that waited upon\\nthem Even to think of them at this late day\\nis enough to quicken the appetite.\\nUp to this time we had found that the\\ncanned or smoked meat of our native land\\nwith the addition of ship biscuit, milk from a\\n240", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0284.jp2"}, "285": {"fulltext": "Ingonish\\nwayside cottage, and a penny s worth of Cape\\nBreton potatoes capable of being prepared in\\nmany appetising ways completely satisfied us\\nbut now all was changed. We entered upon\\nan era of camp cooking that revolutionised\\nour previous habits and converted us for all\\ntime to come into exacting epicures.\\nOn the stones by a brook-side we cooked\\nand ate the result of our first day s fishing,\\nsmelts, and a few small bass. Smelts are more\\ndelicate in flavour than bass, and they possess\\nthe great advantage of being without scales.\\nThe scaling of a small bass is infinitely more\\nentertaining to the onlooker than to the opera-\\ntor. The slippery little thing has to be held\\nby its slippery little tail while one scrapes\\nagainst the scales, and consequently the ex-\\nasperating object is flying through the air most\\nof the time.\\nThe doctor did not spend much time fish-\\ning off the wharf, as certain large brook trout\\nin his tent testified. He had preserved the\\nlargest and displayed their dried forms with\\nexceeding great pride. He explained to us his\\nway of curing them and considered a pound\\nand a half a good size for a trout, though the\\ni6 241", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0285.jp2"}, "286": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nbest of those on his table had weighed twice and\\nthree times that much before they were cured,\\nso he said. He thought it a great pity that\\ntrout shrink up and lose weight so when cured.\\nHe had caught endless dozens of trout, the\\nsmaller of which he had sent to distant friends,\\nbut the largest he could not part with and kept\\ntheir smoked and shining forms spread out on\\nhis table.\\nFrom this time forth our peace of mind was\\ngone we were the victims of the gentle art\\nof angling, and looked at the rushing brooks\\nnot so much to admire as to wonder about the\\nspeckled trout hiding in their pools.\\nThere are two Ingonishes. They are both\\naccented on the last syllable, and are separated\\nfrom each other by a long neck of land known\\nas Middlehead.\\nThis neck cuts the broad bay, that would\\notherwise exist, in two, and forms the lovely\\nSouth Bay and the almost equally charming\\nNorth Bay. To go from one to the other, a\\ndistance of about eight miles, the road passes\\nacross the mainland end of the neck, and one\\nloses sight of the water, though never far from\\nit.\\n242", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0286.jp2"}, "287": {"fulltext": "ngo\\nntSi\\nTwo miles from South Ingonish on the road\\nto the north, one crosses a bridge, and just the\\nother side of it an obscure track turns off to\\nthe left. It is stony and rough, and in one\\nplace rather alarmingly steep, but it passes\\nalong a valley, mountain-guarded and traversed\\nby a brook. After following the track two or\\nthree miles, the brook is found quite close to it,\\nand one comes almost under the great cliff of\\nrock known as Franey s chimney. This ap-\\npears to have been split from the mountain\\nwall behind it, and stands forth a massive, frown-\\ning form as though on guard over the wild\\nglen and the rugged cliffs of the mountains\\nabout.\\nIt is a wild place down there under Franey s\\nchimney, a lonely place where one would not\\nbe surprised to see antlers or the clumsy form\\nof the bear that we knew frequented these\\nmountains.\\nHere we camped, that is, we gave Dan a\\nlimited freedom, unpacked the fishing-rod,\\nwhich had suddenly become an object of vital\\ninterest in our eyes, and took our way across a\\nstretch of meadow to the brook-side. We\\nsoon came upon a series of dark pools close to\\n243", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0287.jp2"}, "288": {"fulltext": "T)ow7i North and Up Along\\nthe shore, and with little expectation of draw-\\ning forth anything so said and sung about\\nas a speckled trout, with our unskilled hands,\\nwe hardened our hearts and strung upon the\\nhook a large angleworm, distinguished by a\\nmagnificent wriggle, condoning the offence by\\nthe reflection that according to the latest word\\nof science upon the nervous system of the\\nworm, it does not really suffer when thus mis-\\nused. This we seductively dropped into a\\npool, with no real expectation, for there have\\nbeen many books writ upon trout-fishing, and\\nwe supposed that only an artificial fly of strange\\nconstruction, thrown with secret and consum-\\nmate skill, could land one of these famous\\ncreatures. And we knew ourselves for simple\\nfolk with no wiles but such as could be offered\\nby a plain angleworm, a live one at that, with\\nnot an artificial hair on its head.\\nStill, no sooner had our plebeian worm\\nentered the dark pool than there came a thrill-\\ning twitch to the line, and we flung upon the\\nbank as pretty a red and gold speckled trout\\nas one could ask to see, thereby dispelling for\\never the almost religious mystery that had here-\\ntofore enveloped trout-fishing in our minds.\\n244", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0288.jp2"}, "289": {"fulltext": "Catching Trout for Dinner", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0289.jp2"}, "290": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0290.jp2"}, "291": {"fulltext": "Ing\\nonis\\nh\\nWe then and there made the important dis-\\ncovery that, notwithstanding the glamour of\\nromance in which the books have enveloped\\nthem, brook trout are mere fish, after all. They\\nswallow a worm with a hook inside just as the\\nsunfish in the mill-pond of our childhood\\nused to swallow a bent pin under the same\\ncircumstances. We afterward wished we had\\ntried a bent pin on the trout, to complete the\\nconfusion of those writers who have for so\\nlong a time been imposing on a too credu-\\nlous public.\\nThese thoughts did not trouble us at the\\nmoment, however, for, after all, there is a magi-\\ncal fascination in a brook trout, which can no\\nmore be resisted than it can be explained.\\nProbably no trout is ever half so beautiful as\\nthe first one caught. Our acquaintance with\\nthem heretofore had been in picture-books,\\nor nicely browned on the table, but here lay a\\nlive one in the green grass, all speckled and\\ncoloured like a rainbow, and no wonder great\\nFraney leaned out of the sky to see.\\nThere was but one rod, and two ot us, and\\nwe took turns and agonised between, knowing\\nso well we could get the proverbial big one out\\n245", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0291.jp2"}, "292": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nof the pool, if it had only happened to be our\\nturn. But when our turn came, we never got\\nthe big one. We caught any number of small\\nones, however, and lost more than we caught,\\nfor they had a way of jumping off the hook in\\nmid-air and falling back into the water with a\\nshake and a flirt. The largest ones invariably\\ndid this, and did it with such apparent intention\\nand malice that we began to think there might\\nbe something in the books, after all.\\nThey were so pretty we hated to cook them\\nsome were dark in colour with deep-coloured\\nspots and some were golden-brown, almost\\nas though saturated with light, with lighter\\nand brighter spots, and these were the prettiest.\\nWe did cook them and what could be daintier\\nor more delicious than the snowy-white or\\nsalmon-pink morsels that came out of the\\nfrying-pan We ate all we caught, and would\\nnot like to say how many that was.\\nNor did this end the adventures of that day\\nunder Franey. While resting after our delect-\\nable dinner and the exciting events of the morn-\\ning, we saw a small party of men and boys\\nadvancing down the glen. They were burdened\\nwith something they bore upon poles resting on\\n246", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0292.jp2"}, "293": {"fulltext": "Ingonish\\ntheir shoulders, and we went to see what it was.\\nWhat was our surprise to find the skins and\\nflesh of two bears which they had just killed\\non the back of the mountain beneath which we\\nwere resting. They were young bears, and\\nhad been feeding for many days on the blue-\\nberries that cover the mountains they were\\nvery fat and their flesh was good, and one of\\nthe men cut us a piece from a hind-quarter.\\nThis was the first fresh meat we had seen since\\nleaving Baddeck, and we took it, though not\\nwithout misgivings. It seemed too bad to\\nhave killed the little bears playing among the\\nblueberries on the mountain-top and then\\none hesitates to eat the flesh of a creature that\\ncan be taught to walk upright, and even to\\ndance. Still, there was another side to it, and\\nwe no doubt had reason to be thankful that\\nthe bears had not taken a notion to hunt us,\\nwhile the men on the mountains were hunting\\nthem. To an unprejudiced mind it is as fair\\nfor people to eat bears as for bears to eat peo-\\nple, the only question being which can catch\\nthe other.\\nSo we took the bear-meat and also a pail of\\nthe blueberries the men had picked, for they\\n247", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0293.jp2"}, "294": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nhad got not only the bears but the berries the\\nbears had wanted to get. They were enor-\\nmous blueberries we never saw so large be-\\nfore nor since, and they were sweet and juicy.\\nThe bears know what they are about when\\nthey go to the mountains for blueberries.\\nWe entered North Ingonish, as we had en-\\ntered South Ingonish, toward the end of the\\nafternoon. Its bay is more open to the sea,\\nand has not the inner harbour of the South\\nBay. The mountains are about it, more dis-\\ntant, but still lovely, and before it lies a beach\\nof exceeding beauty and grandeur. It sweeps\\nin a long and beautiful curve half-way around\\nthe bay, lines of splendid breakers rolling in.\\nIt is a wide beach of fine sand and slopes\\ngently to the sea, where the snowy breakers\\nrepeat the exquisite curve of the shore.\\nNorth Ingonish is very beautiful, though\\nquite different from South Ingonish. Its more\\ndistant mountains were lovely in the evening\\nlight in which we first saw them and its circling\\nbeach and wide bay. Smoky was visible,\\nthough softened by the distance, as was also\\nthe contour of the surrounding headlands.\\nWe were not prepared for the astonishing\\n248", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0294.jp2"}, "295": {"fulltext": "In go\\nnis.\\nbeauty of the Ingonishes, nor did it seem pos-\\nsible they could lie there so lonely in their\\nloveliness, unvisited by pleasure-seeking man.\\nThe Ingonish people are fishermen, and are\\nprincipally Irish and Scotch Catholics. Like\\nEnglishtown the place was known long ago,\\nand was at one time a flourishing French fish-\\ning settlement, but war required victims, and\\nthe men of Ingonish were drawn away to fight\\ninstead offish, and the place, like St. Anne, was\\nfinally wrested from the French by the English\\nof Commodore Warren s fleet.\\nTraces of the period of French prosperity\\nare said still to exist, though we did not know\\nabout them at the time, and no one volun-\\nteered information concerning the relics of the\\npast. It seems that a large church was built\\nhere, and in 1849 a bell weighing not less than\\ntwo hundred pounds was dug out of the sand\\nof the beach. It bore a French inscription\\nand was marked St. Malo, 1729, and was said\\nto have had a remarkably clear tone which\\nmust have been heard far out to sea. It was\\ncarried away to Sydney, which the people of\\nIngonish never should have allowed.\\nIn 1740, the records tell us, Ingonish was\\n249", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0295.jp2"}, "296": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nthe second town of Cape Breton, and its fleet\\ncaught 13,560 quintals of fish. This is that\\nNiganiche where the French in olden time\\nwent a-fishing, and where a paternal govern-\\nment ordered them away to the safe harbour\\nof Port Dauphin, as St. Anne was called, after\\nthe fifteenth of August.\\nFrom Port Dauphin we arrived at Niga-\\nniche, says Pinchon, which is only a road,\\nwhere the vessels are far from being safe but\\nthere is great plenty of codfish. Yet as it\\nmust be deserted at a certain season, and the\\ncountry thereabouts is quite barren, there are\\nhardly any dwellings upon the place. Even\\nthose few inhabitants are obliged to fetch their\\nwood for firing from Port Dauphin.\\nIngonish may well have discouraged a\\npeople obliged to live on what they found\\nthere. But the day will come when its beauty\\nwill bring it a larger revenue than its codfish\\never have brought or ever will bring.\\nThe highlands back of Ingonish used to be\\nnoted for the large game found there. Caribou\\nand moose are said to have once existed in\\nalmost incredible numbers. But this is not a\\npleasant topic, for the deer were slaughtered\\n250", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0296.jp2"}, "297": {"fulltext": "Ingonish\\nin the most ruthless manner because their hides\\nbrought the sum of ten shiUings each and\\nwhat mattered the extermination of the noblest\\nanimals of the country compared to ten shill-\\nings in a man s pocket\\nWe are told that in 1729 over nine thou-\\nsand moose were killed for their skins alone,\\nand that for many years this wholesale slaughter\\nwas kept up unchecked. So great was the\\nstench from the decaying bodies that sailors\\nknew by that alone when they were approach-\\ning the north shore of Cape Breton.\\nIt is needless to comment upon the result.\\nAll too late a body of troops was stationed at\\nIngonish to protect the moose, but there were\\nfew left to need protection, and since then the\\nunequal contest has gone on, Indians and\\nsportsmen combining to destroy the noble\\nanimal, until now it and the caribou are almost\\nexterminated in the highlands about Ingonish.\\nWe saw no quails in our travels, for we were\\na little too far north for them, but the Canada\\nor spruce grouse in small companies ran along\\nthe road in front of the horse exhibiting very\\nlittle fear.\\nIngonish is not wholly inaccessible, nor is\\n251", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0297.jp2"}, "298": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nNorth Ingonish devoid of comforts for the\\nvisitor.\\nA small steamboat, the Harlow, runs from\\nHalifax to Newfoundland, stopping at Bad-\\ndeck, Englishtown, South and North Ingonish,\\nand north of these places at Aspy Bay and\\nBay St. Lawrence.\\nThe Harlow carries a siren which once\\nwas the cause of great consternation along this\\nlovely coast, for the boat and her siren came\\nwithout warning, and the people one night were\\nterrified by a wild and awful yell as of some\\nfrightful demon rushing in from the sea. They\\nare said to have fled inland and remained in\\nthe forest trembling through the night, until\\ndaylight gave them courage to creep forth and\\nquestion the source of the frightful noise.\\nUnexpectedly to hear the Harlow s siren\\nalong that lonely shore might well cause a thrill\\nto any nerves.\\nAt Ingonish is the first public-house after\\nleaving Baddeck, a pleasant place on a beau-\\ntiful site, with sea and mountains before the\\ndoor, and very well kept.\\nThis house is approached through a lane\\nbordered by fish-flakes of a size intermediate\\n252", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0298.jp2"}, "299": {"fulltext": "Ingonish\\nbetween those of Digby and French River,\\nand upon them were drying the everlasting cod.\\nThe family, too, keeps the store, that opens on\\nthe lane, and doubtless the post-office is there,\\nfor the postman drives in his two-wheeled cart\\nfrom Baddeck up along when the weather is\\nfit, but in winter he carries his budget on a\\nsledge drawn by dogs.\\nThere are wharves for the fishing-boats at\\nNorth Ingonish and these, with the boats\\nlying about, give it a pleasing touch of the\\npicturesque.\\nIngonish is the end of the tourists explora-\\ntions as a rule. Few find their way thither,\\nstill fewer go north of there and as we looked\\ntoward the mysterious and yet distant Cape\\nNorth, we had the pleasurable feeling that it at\\nleast was all our own.\\n253", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0299.jp2"}, "300": {"fulltext": "XVII\\nTHE HALF WAY HOUSE\\nFROM Ingonish to Aspy Bay is a\\nfrightful country, almost uninhabited,\\nexcepting for the settlement of Neils\\nHarbour, which lies on the rocky\\ncoast a mile from the Half Way House.\\nThe Half Way House is eighteen miles\\nfrom Ingonish and was put in the wilderness\\nby the government for the succour of those\\nobliged to pass that way, for it is said that\\nformerly people perished on the mountains or\\nin the swamps. In bad weather it must be\\nvery difficult to cross that country and the\\nHalf Way House with its warmth and good\\ncheer must be a welcome sight to the weary\\nand half-frozen traveller.\\nClimbing the hill out of Ingonish, we looked\\nconstantly back at the beautiful and unfolding\\nviews. The road was so stony and weather-\\nworn that part of the time we preferred to\\nwalk, and Dan preferred that we should. We\\ncame to an occasional lonely starved little\\n254", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0300.jp2"}, "301": {"fulltext": "The Half Way House\\nfarm, where the women with their kerchiefs\\nand gleaming sickles were at work in the yel-\\nlow barley patches. We stopped each time to\\npass a word and see their faces lighten, as we\\ntold them Parson Gibbons had sent us to see\\ntheir country and had sent messages to them.\\nThey all asked eagerly when he was coming\\nback.\\nWe crossed a bridge and turned into the\\nbushes to let a waggon pass. Instead of pass-\\ning, it stopped in a friendly way while we told\\nour names, where we came from, and whither\\nwe were going. It contained Mrs. Morri-\\nson of Green Cove and Mr. Timmons, and\\nthey were on their way to Mrs. Timmons s\\nmother s, for we, too, had learned to be polite\\nand ask questions.\\nSoon there were no more barley patches and\\nthe road dwindled to a mere track where the\\nhorse waded up to his middle in grass, ever-\\nlasting, and golden-rod, and finally plunged\\ninto the dismal swamp that crosses the country\\nhere. We laboured for several miles through\\nas desolate a region as one need care to\\nknow. It was for the most part an alder-\\nchoked swamp, the road cut through a solid\\n255", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0301.jp2"}, "302": {"fulltext": "Down No7 th and Up Along\\nwall of gloomy green, the wheels oftentimes\\nhub-deep in mud, while stones in the ruts\\nconstantly canted the waggon to one side or\\nthe other. This sort of enjoyment was diver-\\nsified by more open places where mud and\\nstones gave place to all stones, and where were\\nsepulchral reaches of dead trees, their branches\\nall fallen away, and the trunks and limbs shin-\\ning ghostly white. From time to time we\\ncaught glimpses of stony and barren high-\\nlands, only to plunge hopelessly into alders\\nand mud again. We named this charming\\nroad the Melancholy Way of the Alders, and\\nwhoever passes that way will agree that it\\ndeserves its name.\\nWe met no one, and so we shall never know\\nwhat would have happened if we had, in that\\nnarrow alley where one could scarcely have\\npulled out of the deep ruts even if there had\\nbeen any place to pull to.\\nMany stories are told of this swamp one\\nis that whoever steps into it cannot step out\\nagain until the next day. We also heard of\\nthe traveller who, passing the gloomy road one\\nsummer night, saw a light in the swamp, and\\nupon stopping and shouting elicited the infor-\\n2^6", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0302.jp2"}, "303": {"fulltext": "The Half Way House\\nmation that it proceeded from the pipe of an\\nold woman who, having inadvertently stepped\\nin and knowing the legend, was philosophically\\nbiding her time and making the best of a bad\\nmatter by solacing the dreary hours with her\\npipe until daylight should come to break the\\nspell and set her free.\\nThis recalled another story that shows how\\ngood a thing superstition is in other people,\\nif one only knows how to make use of it. It\\nis said the Highlanders of Cape North have\\nmore or less faith in bogies and a correspond-\\ning fear of them. Somewhere along the coast\\nis a rocky seat known as the devil s chair, and\\na strange light was frequently seen here at\\nnight, to the blood-curdling horror of the\\nbeholder.\\nThe same traveller, who was not a High-\\nlander, and who had no fear of bogies, one\\nnight shied a stone, all too well aimed, which\\nextinguished the light and raised a frightened\\nhowl from the bogy, who doubtless thought\\nall bogy-land was after her in earnest, for the\\npseudo-bogy was a poor old woman too old\\nto work with any sort of satisfaction to her-\\nself, and whose son, being a hard man, com-\\n17 257", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0303.jp2"}, "304": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\npelled her to work for his satisfaction. So\\nshe found it convenient to become bedridden,\\nthus shifting the responsibiUty of work to\\nyounger shoulders, and was only able to walk\\nat night, when undetected she would steal\\nforth and seat herself in the devil s chair for\\nthe comfort of a pipe. Her discoverer prom-\\nised not to betray her, gave her a new pipe\\nand a supply of tobacco, and it is to be hoped\\nher hard son will never read these lines, at\\nleast not until the poor old soul has gone\\nwhere she cannot be called forth to work at\\nthe bidding of any man.\\nWe floundered slowly along through the\\nMelancholy Way of the Alders, cheering each\\nother with ghost stories, and about noon came\\nout of it, and crossed the bridge over Black\\nBrook of all the streams we had seen the most\\nforbidding, fascinating, and rock-bound. It was\\nfar, far below us and made its way between mas-\\nsive and broken walls of rock. Trees closely\\nbordered the rocks above and clung in the\\ncrevices, overleaning and shadowing the chasm\\nbelow. Altogether, it was a sinister-looking\\nbrook and as black as night.\\nBut we had a sudden inner vision of trout\\n258", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0304.jp2"}, "305": {"fulltext": "The Half Way House\\nin its pools Close to the pools at one side\\nlay a flat table of rock, where one could stand\\nor sit at ease, if once it could be reached. The\\nsun shone brightly, and it was the wrong time\\nof day for trout, as well as being too late in the\\nseason, yet there was an irresistible fascination\\nin those black pools. If the trout were not\\nthere, where were they\\nBy clinging to the roots of trees and pro-\\nceeding with caution, we were able to scale\\nthe rocks and reach the flat rock by the pools.\\nWe congratulated ourselves upon the posses-\\nsion of worms, for they certainly were a more\\nnatural food for fish than flies made of all\\nsorts of indigestible things, and no doubt Cape\\nBreton trout had not been educated up to\\nflies. So we cast a worm, but it had no\\ntime to enter the water, for even as it touched\\nthe surface it was caught by a trout and swal-\\nlowed, hook and all. With pride unspeakable\\nwe pulled him in, struggling so that we trembled\\nfor the rod and line, for we knew not how\\nto land a fish other than just to pull him\\nout of the water with as few preliminaries as\\npossible.\\nWe put him in a damp cavern in the rock\\n259", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0305.jp2"}, "306": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nbehind us, and tried again. The result was\\nthe same, except that we lost the fish. We\\nnow knew that the despised fly was the\\nscientific bait for this variety of trout, and be-\\ngan to long for one, a multi-coloured creature\\nnot born from an egg, made of strong things\\nthat could not be swallowed nor torn off, and\\nin whose care the hook would not come un-\\nbailed. In short, down there on the flat rock\\nbefore the trout pools of Black Brook, we\\nwished to be delivered from the ignominy of\\nangleworms. The truth is, we were fly-\\nfishing with worms, and our newborn fisher-\\nman s pride rebelled. As fast as we threw, the\\nfish jumped at the hook they scarcely seemed\\nto know whether it was baited or not, and the\\nsmallest remnant of worm answered as well as\\nthe plumpest morsel. They were not as large\\nas those on the show table in the doctor s tent,\\nbut they were large enough we could not have\\nsecured them had they been any larger; we\\ncould not as it was, and lost a great many\\nmore than we caught. It was very stimulating\\ndown there surrounded by the great rocks,\\nwith the black water rushing swiftly down-\\nstream, and the still pools lying in the shadow\\n260", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0306.jp2"}, "307": {"fulltext": "The Half Way House\\nof the rocks, while at every cast of the line\\nthe gorgeous dark-skinned trout with their\\nflashing jewel-spots leaped at the hook and\\neither came fluttering wildly to our hand, or\\nto our equal regret and pleasure freed them-\\nselves in mid-air and fell flashing back into\\nthe water.\\nIt was long before we could tear ourselves\\naway from the spot then we climbed the diffi-\\ncult cliffy, and journeyed on to another deep-\\ndown brook near which was an open grassy\\nspace fit to camp in. Dan was given his oats,\\nand we took the long rope that had tied the\\nbag to the back of the waggon and let our tin\\npail down over the rail of the bridge to the far-\\naway stream of sparkling cold water. Such\\nwater as comes down these brooks, sweet, cold,\\nclear, full of sparkle, it seems almost living,\\nand seems, too, to give life to him who drinks.\\nWe took a long, refreshing draught, and then\\nprepared our meal of fresh-caught trout, blue-\\nberries we had ourselves picked from the\\nmountains, and bear s meat. We were agree-\\nably disappointed in this meat it was delicate\\nin flavour, and when cooked until tender, for it\\nwas somewhat tough, was as good as any meat.\\n261", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0307.jp2"}, "308": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nBeing tough, it was better stewed than broiled\\nand we still think with longing of the bear s\\nmeat stews we concocted under the fir-trees of\\nCape Breton with the aid of the sparkling\\nbrook water and the red-skinned potatoes M.\\nbought each day from a wayside cottage.\\nWhile we were preparing our Black Brook\\ntrout, along came a Highlander leading a cow,\\nand he stopped, full of curiosity. We showed\\nhim our fish and he said they did very well,\\nthat Black Brook was the place for trout, but\\nthat he had caught one measuring twenty-two\\ninches. Then he took the rod and handled it\\ncuriously, particularly the reel. This, he\\nsaid, tapping it, I suppose will be a reel. I\\nhave lived a good many years, but I never saw\\none and never expected to; and he unwound\\nthe line and wound it up again. All this\\ntime the cow was tossing her head and trying\\nto pull away, but he clung to the rope and\\nthe rod, from time to time requesting the cow\\nto sh At length he and the cow went\\non their way, no doubt with much food for\\nmeditation.\\nIt was as usual nearing the twilight hour\\nwhen we drew near our destination. Breaking\\n262", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0308.jp2"}, "309": {"fulltext": "H\\no\\no", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0309.jp2"}, "310": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0310.jp2"}, "311": {"fulltext": "The Half Way House\\nthrough the woods at last, we came upon the\\nHalf Way House standing on an open high\\nplace.\\nThe Half Way House is just what such a\\nrefuge should be, warm, clean, and hospitable.\\nThe door opens into a large kitchen with a\\ngenerous stove on one side and a floor that\\nshines from much scrubbing. The McPher-\\nsons keep the place and have for many a year,\\nthough Mrs. McPherson is still bonnie and\\ncharming.\\nMr. McPherson was away at the time of our\\nvisit, on his yearly trip to Halifax, to lay in\\nprovisions for the winter, of which forethought\\nthere is certainly need.\\nBesides Mrs. McPherson, a tall Highlander\\nwho looked after Dan s comfort, and a young\\nwoman who helped about the house, we were\\nthe only beings in that distant and lonely spot,\\nexcepting a white dog with a black head and a\\ntortoise-shell cat with a tortoise-shell kitten,\\nwhich she constantly licked and which afflicted\\nher motherly heart by frequently flying oflf to\\nan enclosure where the cows came at night, and\\nracing around the top rail out of reach of the\\nmaternal tongue.\\n263", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0311.jp2"}, "312": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nThe Half Way House stands on the cleared\\nbrow of a high hill with somewhat sombre\\nthough rather pleasing views of denuded high-\\nlands and interminable reaches of spruce, fir, and\\nhemlock on three sides while the fourth side,\\ntoward which the house faces, overlooks the sea,\\nwhose surf is heard pounding against the rocks\\na mile away. Down there on the rocks by the\\nsea can also be seen one corner of Neils Har-\\nbour. For here, in the loneliest and most\\ndangerous part of that lonely and dangerous\\ncoast, lies the little settlement of English\\npeople who were the peculiar care of their\\ndevoted friend, Parson Gibbons. For these\\npeople came from Newfoundland, and are not,\\nlike most of the settlers of Cape Breton, High-\\nland Scotch.\\nWe found the air of this northern coast\\nsplendidly exhilarating. Although it was now\\nwell along in September and the air was spark-\\nling with cold, particularly in the early morning,\\nwe never felt chilly. Its effect was to make\\nthe blood flow faster, and there was none of the\\nsense of chill and depression one so often feels\\nafter driving for several hours in the same\\ntemperature in southern New England. The\\n264", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0312.jp2"}, "313": {"fulltext": "The Half Way House\\nair of Cape North is alone worth going\\nthere for.\\nMrs. McPherson cooked eggs and salt fish\\nand potatoes for our supper and spread the\\ntable in the sunny little sitting-room that\\nopened out of the kitchen and whose floor was\\ncarpeted with many rugs of agreeable design.\\nWe persuaded her to join us, and added blue-\\nberries, apples, and coffee from our stores.\\nMrs. McPherson gave us our first lesson in\\nGaelic, and from her we learned to say good-\\nnight and to ask for bread, milk, potatoes, and\\noats in that unmusical tongue.\\nShe also initiated us into the mysteries of rug-\\nmaking, and told us how dogwood bark makes\\na gray colouring crackle, which is, as far as\\nwe could make out, a kind of moss, yields\\nbrown while hemlock also makes a pretty\\nshade of brown and a weed which we could\\nnot make out at all from her description yields\\na yellow dye. We were glad to know these\\nthings, and to examine the charming rugs on\\nthe floor, made from old rags dyed so pleas-\\nantly by the juices of the grim forest, and to\\nlearn the individual history of each one.\\nIn the evening came a crowd of berry-pickers\\n265", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0313.jp2"}, "314": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nwith full buckets. They were young men and\\ngirls who had been out on the mountains to\\nthe blueberry barrens which are famous about\\nhere. It seemed to be a sort of annual picnic\\nwhich lasted two or three days, they coming at\\nsunset to the Half Way House and at sunrise\\ngoing forth to the mountains.\\nThey took supper at a long table in the\\nkitchen, and we were sorry to see they did\\nnot fare as well as we, for they had only the\\nnever-failing tea and toast, rather an insufficient\\nmeal, one should think, after a long day on the\\nmountains. But the bread at the Half Way\\nHouse is at least not sour, and tea and toast is\\nthe fare to which they are accustomed, and\\nwhich they would have had in their own homes\\nno matter how hard the labour of the day.\\nThe berry-pickers talked Gaelic at table,\\nand after tea the girls kept silent or whispered\\nto one another, while the men smoked their\\npipes and talked to one another always in\\nGaelic. As they sat ranged along the sides of\\nthe kitchen on benches and chairs, they strongly\\nrecalled the poor whites or Crackers of the\\nfar South. They had the same starved-looking\\nbodies, and no doubt opposite severities of\\n266", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0314.jp2"}, "315": {"fulltext": "The Half Way House\\nclimate and the same lack of proper nourish-\\nment had produced the same result. They\\nwent to bed in the attic, where the men slept\\non the floor, but the girls stowed themselves\\nin a small room wherein was a wide bed.\\nEarly in the morning we were wakened by\\nthe berry-pickers getting up. We wished we\\ncould understand their speech and know what\\nit was they talked to one another about. What\\nis there to talk about, we should like to know,\\nwhere there is no daily paper, no fashions, no\\nnew books, nor opera How can they even\\nget material enough to make gossip about\\ntheir neighbours\\nThe road to Neils Harbour is stony and\\ndownhill and there is not much to be seen\\nfrom it. One of Cape North s never-failing\\nbrooks breaks through the mountains and\\ntumbles into the harbour along the course of\\nthe road, though it is for the most part con-\\ncealed by intervening vegetation. The harbour\\nis but a little cove jutting into the land and\\nmaking a summer haven for the fishing-fleet,\\nbut in winter it is packed full of ice, as is every\\ncranny of this northern coast. It was over the\\nice of this harbour and around the ice of the\\n267", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0315.jp2"}, "316": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\ncruel shore from Insfonish to the harbour that\\nParson Gibbons crept on hands and knees when\\nthe road was totally impassable, one memorable\\nChristmas day of long ago, and all to bring the\\ncheer of his presence to the fisher-folk of\\nNeils Harbour. Perhaps he feared that unless\\nthe Christmas-tide could light up the world\\nfor them a little, they would not have cour-\\nage to live through the winter, and one won-\\nders how they do manage it. It is so remote\\nand forbidding in summer that one shudders\\nto imagine what it must be through the long\\nicy winter.\\nYet it is, perhaps, the most picturesque\\nsettlement on the whole coast. There is a\\nnarrow space of lowland near the water, with a\\nhill rising sharply behind it.\\nA point of land ending in a bluff on the sea-\\nside holds back the waves and forms a cove\\nsuited to the needs of the fishing-boats and\\naround the shore of this cove is a picturesque\\njumble of low fish-huts, flakes, boats in all\\nstages of decomposition as well as those in full\\nvigour of usefulness, tar, chains, evidences of\\nfish everywhere. The high grass-grown bluff\\nthat abuts out into the water beyond all this, is\\n268", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0316.jp2"}, "317": {"fulltext": "The Half Way House\\ncovered as well by many rows of flakes, and from\\nit a fine view of the wild coast is obtainable.\\nThe dwelling-houses of Neils Harbour were\\nmiserable shanties, many of them more like\\ntemporary shelters than permanent homes.\\nMost of them stood on the hillside, and the\\nupper ones were reached by a path through the\\ndooryards of those lower down. Poor and\\nmean as they were outside, they were yet worse\\ninside. The rooms were painfully bare, even\\nthe hitherto never-failing rugs being absent in\\nmost of them. Compared to them, the simple\\ncottages of the Highlanders seemed abodes of\\nluxury. The people are so desperately poor\\nbecause there is no farming land at all, and\\nthere is no work obtainable but the very un-\\ncertain labour of fishing in the sea. They get\\nvery little for the fish they catch, not even as\\nmuch as they are worth, we were told for\\nhere, as elsewhere in remote country places,\\nthe wealth of the people flows into the coffers\\nof the local storekeeper. He sets his own\\nprice on what they bring him and too fre-\\nquently pays in merchandise of his own im-\\nportation, so that often the poor fisher-folk\\nreceive no money at all for their labour.\\n269", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0317.jp2"}, "318": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nThe wood for firing in this bleak camp\\nis brought from the mountains on sledges\\ndrawn by dogs.\\nIt was a lowering day, with clouds settling\\nand a cold wind blowing, when we visited Neils\\nHarbour, and no doubt this is its characteristic\\nand predominating aspect.\\nThe coast is frightful to look upon, with its\\nbreastwork of sea-worn rock. We had not\\nknown how cruel a rock-bound coast could be\\nuntil we saw those sinister and threatening\\nforms. A vessel forced near shore by stress\\nof weather would be broken like a toy. Al-\\nmost within hand-reach of the land men s lives\\nhave been dashed out and no aid possible.\\nOn this wild and sullen coast, on a great\\nrock looking over the leaden sea to the north,\\nwe suddenly came upon Mr. Gibbons s little\\nbrown church standing there, an invitation and\\na promise. Following the track that went past\\nthe church, the road came down so close to\\nthe frightful rocks that we were almost upon\\nthem.\\nBeyond Neils Harbour there is an almost\\nimpassable road to New Haven farther along\\nthe coast. We did not attempt to go there, as\\n270", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0318.jp2"}, "319": {"fulltext": "T he Half Way House\\nwe could see the place from where we were,\\na few houses scattered on the shore that sug-\\ngested anything but a haven.\\nIt must be a cold and dangerous port for\\nthe poor mariners of life who have found their\\nway there. Its pitiful old name of Hungry\\nCove no doubt better expresses the facts of\\nlife there than the better-sounding New\\nHaven.\\nBut the people here, in spite of their fright-\\nful poverty, have a frank and pleasant manner\\nvery different from the impenetrable and silent\\ndemeanour of the Scotch. We met a little boy\\nand girl gathering bits of wood by the roadside,\\npretty, fragile creatures and when we spoke to\\nthem they answered promptly and intelligently,\\nand with a pretty eagerness to tell us what we\\nwanted to know.\\nWe spoke to the people we met, and it was\\npathetic as well as beautiful to see the worn\\nfaces lighten at the messages we bore from\\ntheir beloved pastor.\\nOne woman, upon hearing we had recently\\nseen Mr. Gibbons, came running from her\\nhouse with the tears raining down her face,\\nblessing him at every step and begging us to\\n271", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0319.jp2"}, "320": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\ntell him that her husband had finally become\\ntotally blind. She was not begging for sym-\\npathy nor asking for alms. All she wanted\\nwas to speak to us and receive a sympathetic\\ntouch of the hand. These people, seeing no\\none, expect nothing but the inexorable working\\nout of their lives by such means as lie about\\nthem. We found that this woman and her\\nhusband had only what she could earn by the\\nlabour of her hands, and what that was can be\\nimagined when one considers the impossibihty\\nof getting a living here even by the hard work\\nof men s hands. We astonished her by a gift\\nwhich though small must have seemed to her\\nlike succour dropped from the skies, and we\\nwent back to the Half Way House filled with\\na sense of the misery and courage of the people\\nof Neils Harbour. We had there seen more\\nsmiles, more cheerfulness and cordiality, than\\nanywhere else in our journey through Cape\\nNorth.\\nIt is a question of race temperament, and\\nthe subject is a very wonderful one when one\\nstops to consider it.\\n272", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0320.jp2"}, "321": {"fulltext": "XVIII\\nASPY BAY\\nTHE road to the north of the Half\\nWay House continues through the\\nwilderness. We found it very rough,\\nand there were no views to beguile\\nthe way other than endless woods of evergreens\\nspread over the mountains, dismal swamps,\\nand stony hills where ruts were deep and\\npitch holes were many.\\nIn this wilderness we passed two men in a\\nwaggon. They drew into the bushes to give\\nus way, and we saw in their faces a desire to\\nask us our names, where we came from, and\\nwhere we were going, so we stopped and an-\\nswered. One of the men then forced upon\\nour acceptance three or four small and very\\nhard apples of which he was proud, because\\nthey came from his own tree.\\nIn the midst of this frightful wilderness we\\nfound a French settlement of three or four\\nhouses.\\nWhy it was there among dead trees, let who\\ncan, answer. The miserable shanties and their\\niS\\n273", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0321.jp2"}, "322": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nsurroundings were squalid and unsightly, with-\\nout a touch of picturesqueness. We found a\\nwoman there, a gaunt woman who talked her\\nFrench \u00e2\u0096\u00a0patois with the vivacity of her race.\\nShe was the mother of little children, one a\\nyoung babe. It certainly looked as if the\\nfamily would have to subsist upon stones\\nduring the winter. And yet she talked with\\nvivacity. That is what it is to be French.\\nThese people, we learned later, were descend-\\nants of the Acadians. They themselves did\\nnot know it, nor how they came to be among\\nEnglish-speaking people. They had lost all\\ntradition of themselves. They only knew that\\nthey had just come from islands in the north,\\nwhere life was too hard even for them, be-\\ncause there was no wood there.\\nAs we went on, it looked as though all the\\nbeauty had been left behind. Ahead of us lay\\na straight blue wall, of which we at times\\ncaught glimpses. It appeared to cut off the\\nway to the north it rose up ever and anon\\nmenacing and mysterious. Did we pass be-\\nyond it And what then What was there\\nto be seen in this unpeopled and ever increas-\\ningly dreary wilderness\\n274", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0322.jp2"}, "323": {"fulltext": "A spy Bay\\nAs on the road to the Half Way House, we\\ntravelled miles without seeing a human habi-\\ntation. But finally there came a change.\\nBarley fields and patches of oats began to\\nappear. Houses stood discreetly back from\\nthe road with intervening meadow before the\\ndoors. The flat wall ahead broke up, and we\\nnow and again caught glimpses of a fairy world\\nthat astonished and delighted us. Mr. Gib-\\nbons had assured us that the farther north we\\nwent, the finer would be the scenery, but the\\nlong and dreary way from Ingonish had dimmed\\nour hope a little.\\nMeadows appeared now at the right and\\nnow at the left there came a gleam of blue\\nwater and a pretty lake spread out below\\nus. Two or three houses stood near the\\nlake, but we could discover no track that led\\nto them.\\nIn our turnings there came repeatedly the\\nmost bewitching glimpses of mountains, loftier\\nthan those of Ingonish, and about them were\\ndriving wraiths of mist, that filled the hollows\\nand half obscured the projecting masses.\\nWe crossed streams bordered by cultivated\\nfields, and the trees began to look home-like,\\n275", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0323.jp2"}, "324": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nmaples and birches frequently appearing. We\\nskirted a valley that once had been a water-\\ncourse a torrent had swept down it and left\\nbehind a plain story of its existence. Out of\\nthe middle of the valley rose an island, tree-\\ncovered and with precipitous cliffs of white\\ngypsum, worn into queer-shaped towers and\\nbuttresses. Over our road also loomed ghostly\\nand threatening forms of gypsum, under which\\nwe were half afraid to pass, they looked so\\nready to topple on our heads. And then we\\ncame fairly upon the charming valley of Aspy\\nBay. It was like joy after sorrow to come\\nout of the sombre fir-filled wilderness into this\\nblooming valley, through which flowed a broad\\nand beautiful river. There were elm-trees\\nsingly, and in groups, with the sun behind\\nthem shining out of a misty atmosphere that\\nmade the trees look half unreal, as though\\nthey were a product of the light.\\nMountains rose from across the valley in\\nbeautiful slopes, clad to the summit with trees,\\nexcepting where here and there a bare flank\\nswept up covered only with low, bright-leaved\\nshrubs. They were mountains with purple\\nshadows in their hollows, their slopes blue and\\n276", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0324.jp2"}, "325": {"fulltext": "A spy Bay\\ngreen, with rainbow colours in the mist-filled\\nopenings between them, mountains that rose\\nfrom the level plain, like vast and lovely\\nspirits.\\nAs Smoky excels in magnitude the moun-\\ntains of Englishtown, so do the mountains of\\nAspy Bay excel Smoky, yet they are beautiful\\nrather than grand. More than one lovely\\nslope was painted with prismatic colours, the\\nvarying shades of red rock being blended with\\nexquisite tones of green, yellow, and blue,\\nwhile seaward a warm rose tint, a sweet alpine\\nglow, lay along some of the slopes.\\nThe valley was in a state of high cultivation,\\nand hidden behind clumps of trees were the\\nscattered farmhouses. Evidently peace and\\nplenty reigned here, a lovely oasis in a great\\nwilderness. The houses were roomy and well\\nbuilt, and everything about them betokened\\nprosperity. We stopped on the bridge that\\ncrossed the river, surprised and pleased, and\\nlooked and looked again.\\nMountains and valley were before us, while\\noff to the right shone the blue bay from which\\nthe place gets its name. It was as usual toward\\nnight as we thus drew near our stopping-place,\\n277", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0325.jp2"}, "326": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nand an Indian summer haze intensified the\\nbeauty of the waning day.\\nAs we got closer, the mountains, without\\nlosing their marvellous colouring, became more\\ndistinctly individual, those behind being joined\\nto those in front only by their long overlap-\\nping slopes and the colour-filled spaces between.\\nWe were happy thus to find our blue bar-\\nrier resolved into endless forms of beauty,\\nmountain lying beyond mountain, while here\\nand there a glen opened to let out a foaming\\nbrook and make windows through which we\\ncaught glimpses of exquisitely lovely moun-\\ntain forms beyond.\\nWe were on our way to Zwicker s, and in\\nthe estimation of the people of Cape North he\\nwho does not know Zwicker s does not know\\nmuch.\\nYou will know it, the people told us it\\nwill be the big house. And so we did know\\nit when at last we got there.\\nIt stands near the road in a friendly fashion,\\nand is half house, half store, the store occupy-\\ning one wing of the building.\\nBut inside the house is quite distinct from\\nthe store, of whose proximity there is no sign.\\n278", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0326.jp2"}, "327": {"fulltext": "m\\nu", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0327.jp2"}, "328": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0328.jp2"}, "329": {"fulltext": "A spy Bay\\nZwicker s, or Zwigger s, as the people call\\nit from Baddeck to Bay St. Lawrence, was a\\nsurprise to us in more ways than one. It was\\nkept by two brothers, gentlemen by nature\\nand education. There were signs of foreign\\ntravel and new books and recent issues of the\\nAmerican magazines were lying about. The\\nhouse was not only roomy and comfortable,\\nvery neat and well furnished, but afforded\\nluxuries not before enjoyed by us in Nova\\nScotia.\\nThere was an agreeable atmosphere about\\nthe place, as of people who were accustomed to\\nthe rational pleasures of life.\\nIn the dining-room was a telegraphic instru-\\nment whose clickety-cHck reminded us of the\\nworld to which we belonged and of the mar-\\nvels achieved by man in that world.\\nWhat a moment that must have been in\\nAspy Bay when the first transatlantic message\\nwas received When the whole civilised world\\nheld its breath to hear the momentous word\\nthat, spoken in one continent, should leap to\\nanother, vanquishing time and space, and in that\\ntriumphant hour proclaim the conquest of\\ncivilisation over barbarism, the death of war,\\n279", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0329.jp2"}, "330": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nand the birth of universal peace upon earth.\\nIt takes war a long time to die and universal\\npeace a long time to get out of its swaddling\\nclothes, but these things will surely come to\\npass. The submarine cable and war cannot\\nlive together on the same planet.\\nWe were unexpected guests at Zwicker s\\nand such an event as our arrival must have\\noccasioned the greatest astonishment, if not\\nabsolute consternation, to the two men whom\\nfate, by taking away the mother, had left to\\ncontinue the home as best they could. But we\\nwere received with such courtesy, and enter-\\ntained with such skilful hospitality, that we\\ndid not know, until after we had left, that the\\nbrothers constituted the whole household.\\nThe history of Aspy Bay dates as far back\\nas that of Englishtown and Ingonish, at least\\nin those days it had a name, the same it bears\\nto-day and the French voyager Pinchon speaks\\nalso of this place, for he did not stop his trav-\\nels until he had gone the whole length of the\\ncoast.\\nLeaving Niganiche, we came to the creek\\nof Owarachouque, which creek was that, we\\nshould like to know, the creek at Neils Har-\\n280", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0330.jp2"}, "331": {"fulltext": "Aspy Bay\\nhour or our Black Brook perchance and\\nfrom thence successively to the harbour of\\nAspe, Cape North, the creek of St. Lawrence,\\nand the cape of the same name. Cape North,\\nor the mountain which forms it, is a peninsula\\njoining to the island of Cape Breton by a very\\nlow neck of land. But none of these places\\nare inhabited, or hardly at all frequented.\\nSo much for Aspe prior to 1760 and in\\ntruth it is not very densely inhabited yet, nor\\nis it frequented to the extent its lagoons run-\\nning into the land from the sea and its soulful\\nmountains deserve.\\nIn the early part of the century the evicted\\nScotch peasants seeking homes found the\\nlovely and fertile valley, and the flourishing\\nappearance of the settlement is testimonial\\nenough to the character of the land, for where\\nthe land is good the people are always well-\\nto-do and happy, if other people who do not\\ndraw the furrow or wield the sickle will let\\nthem alone.\\nThere is a delightful lounging-place on the\\nwater s edge a field or two from Zwicker s, a\\nwarm grassy bluff where one can lie in the\\nsunshine with the same rat-tatting grasshoppers\\n281", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0331.jp2"}, "332": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nscurrying about in the same panic-stricken\\nhaste that gave us such bootless chase on\\nBeaman s Mountain, and watch the changing\\nlight on the mountains or on the blue bay.\\nOver the bay, among the little islands, boats\\nwith brown sails were gliding about, for the\\npeople here dye, or, as they say, tan, their sails\\nto make them last longer, and these brown-\\nsailed boats add much to the charm of the\\npicture.\\nAspy Bay, like the Bay of St. Anne, is almost\\nshut up by a long cobblestone bar and a reef\\nof cobblestones at our le ft, as we sat facing the\\nsea, was thickly grown with the Mertensia Mari-\\ntima, now in full bloom. It was a comfort to\\nsee this and know that we had not really been\\nguilty of pulling up the very last one in Cape\\nNorth when we so shamefully exterminated\\nthe pretty thing on Englishtown s pebbly bar.\\nHow long the Mertensia Maritima will be\\nleft to adorn the cobblestone bar of Aspy Bay\\nis a question, for the Newfoundland steamer\\ncalls here, and it is easy to step aboard at Halifax\\nand come straight to this beautiful and health-\\nful spot, sure of a safe landing and a courteous\\nreception away down north. And some day", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0332.jp2"}, "333": {"fulltext": "A spy Bay\\nthe work-weary and nature-hungry souls from\\nthe cities are going to find out these things\\nand then, Mertensia Maritima, you may say\\ngood-bye to your cobblestone bar. For these\\nnew-comers will love you, and will pull you up\\nby the roots, and in a little while will throw\\nyou away, and that will be the end of you.\\nWe left Zwicker s and faced again down\\nnorth, but this was the end, one more day\\nof delightful lingering along the wayside, enjoy-\\ning sea and mountain, coming upon new and\\nunexpected beauties of land and sea, and all\\nwould be known. There would be no more\\nmystery, no more wondering what next, for\\nwe should come to Bay St. Lawrence and that\\nwas the end.\\nFor some distance beyond Zwicker s the\\nmountains are on one side of the road and the\\nsea on the other; and when there is no wind\\nthe mountains can be seen inverted on the\\nwater, where they are almost more lovely than\\nstanding in the air.\\nWe passed close to Sugar Loaf, the high-\\nest mountain of all, and were tempted. The\\ntop looked so near and so inviting But we\\nknew that it was not near and that we could\\n283", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0333.jp2"}, "334": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nnot get to it without first getting badly lost,\\nfor these mountains of beauty are very stern\\nrealities when one attempts to ascend them, and\\nguides are necessary.\\nIt is a short stage to Bay St. Lawrence, and\\nwe did not start very early nor yet hurry on\\nthe road.\\nFrom Baddeck to Zwicker s is a distance of\\none hundred and one miles by the road, we\\nwere pleased to learn. The guide-books make\\nthe distance much shorter, but the guide-\\nbooks are wrong. Any one who has travelled\\nthe road will know that it is no less than one\\nhundred and one miles.\\nThe distance from Zwicker s to Bay St. Law-\\nrence is only from five to eight miles, accord-\\ning to the part of Bay St. Lawrence to which\\none goes. We went eight miles, that is, as far\\nas it is possible for mortal man to go in a\\nwaggon.\\nAfter Sugar Loaf is passed, the road turns\\naway from the sea and passes in back of the\\nmountains. As soon as one gets behind the\\nmountains, the scenery is dreary and consists of\\nstretches of fir and spruce trees broken only by\\nrushing streams and an occasional valley, where\\n284", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0334.jp2"}, "335": {"fulltext": "Aspy Bay\\nsomebody has undertaken the cultivation of\\nbarley and potatoes.\\nThe way became so desolate and dreary for\\na space that we began as usual to despair of\\nanything beyond. The only birds willing to\\nstay in this wilderness were the juncos and why\\nthey should go for ever flitting down north\\ntoward the icy sea, it is probable none but a\\njunco can explain.\\nWhere there are cone-bearing trees, there will\\nbe squirrel folk. Where bird-notes are lack-\\ning, the song of the squirrel comes not amiss.\\nIndeed, it is pleasant even where there are birds,\\nand one hearing it for the first time may well\\nbe excused for mistaking the varied and ex-\\npressive solo for the song of some member of\\nthe feathered tribe. It usually begins as if the\\nperformer had been seized with a violent and\\nuncontrollable ague that caused his teeth to\\nchatter fast and furious. Chatter, chatter,\\nfaster, faster, until the sounds run together\\nand make a pleasant musical note, the pitch\\nof which the performer varies apparently at\\nwill and to give meaning to his song. He\\nsings with such abandon and such long-sus-\\ntained effort that he ought to drop panting at\\n285", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0335.jp2"}, "336": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nyour feet when he finishes with a dozen staccato\\nbarks. But not he. While you are pitying\\nhis condition, he is coolly dropping scales on\\nyour head from a fir cone which he is cutting\\nup with as much energy as if he had not sung\\na note within the memory of man. He is good\\ncompany in the woods, as he never fails to as-\\nsault you with a torrent of squirrel back talk,\\nwhich is a great deal better than no talk, and\\nthen he will very likely make amends by sing-\\ning to you, though, truth to tell, you never feel\\nquite sure whether his remarkable and very\\nenergetic song would bear translating to polite\\nears.\\nOur fears for what was to come as v/e moved\\nover the last stage of our journey turned out\\nas they always did. The dreary behind-the-\\nmountain road suddenly brought us into a new\\nworld; and as had happened each time before,\\nas soon as the view burst upon us, we were\\ntempted to exclaim, This, then, is better than\\nall the rest.\\n286", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0336.jp2"}, "337": {"fulltext": "XIX\\nCAPE NORTH\\nBAY ST. LAWRENCE is different\\nfrom all the rest. It is the Ultima\\nThule, the end of everything, the\\nplace where the land comes to a sud-\\nden stop as though saying to the sea, You have\\nconquered, I can push against you no farther\\nbut see what a battlement I have reared to\\ndefy you and keep you back from my rocky\\nvitals.\\nWhen one gets to Bay St. Lawrence he can\\nno longer pursue his devious, half-fearful, but\\nwholly fascinating course down north, for\\nas he stands on the high bluff and looks over\\nthe pitiless northern sea, he knows that at last\\nhe is down north, that the half-dreaded\\nmountains and swamps have been passed, that\\nfor days and days he has been a tramp, a gypsy,\\neating by the roadside and drinking from way-\\nside streams, begging hospitality to be well\\npaid for from the people along the road and\\nrevelling as he always dreamed of, but never\\n287", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0337.jp2"}, "338": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nexpected to revel, in the free outdoor life of\\nan untamed and beautiful land.\\nOne can have all the delights and discom-\\nforts of pioneer life in Cape North with none\\nof its dangers.\\nBay St. Lawrence is scooped out of the stony\\nland between stone mountains that guard it to\\neast and west. But the settlement near the\\nshore is also called Bay St. Lawrence and is\\nsurrounded on three sides by the mountains\\nand on the fourth by the sea. It is on a\\nplateau of exquisitely rolling swells, for the\\nmost part grown over by soft tawny-white\\ngrass and spacious enough to give the effect\\nof downs. It is a clean grassy amphitheatre\\nshut from the world by mountains and sea.\\nClose against the mountains that shut it\\nfrom the eastern sea is McDougal s Cove,\\nwhere are only three or four houses all sur-\\nrounded by broad meadows, through which we\\ncould find no road but only waggon tracks\\ngoing in all directions as if intending to lead\\nthe stranger astray and land him on the bank\\nof the bridgeless brook that gurgles through\\nthese puzzling meadows.\\nIn approaching McDougal s Cove we\\n288", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0338.jp2"}, "339": {"fulltext": "Cape North\\ncrossed a gully in the land, a deep cut, along\\nthe bottom of which flowed a tiny brook, at\\none time no doubt quite a masterful torrent\\nbut its days of rampage were over, it had\\nwaxed old, thin, and feeble, and the deep hole\\nit had cut now formed the cosey hiding-place\\nfor two or three blacked-roofed fish-houses and\\na few fishing-boats. So deep was this gully\\nthat the buildings were entirely hidden until\\nwe stood fairly over their heads and looked\\ndown upon them.\\nMr. and Mrs. Donald McDonald and their\\nsons and daughters live in their tiny home near\\nthe bluff overlooking the northern sea and\\novershadowed by the great rock that rises a\\nthousand feet from the water, and is twin to the\\nbluff that is the veritable Cape North, and\\nwhich stands to the eastward of this.\\nIt is certainly a mortifying statement to have\\nto make, but we are not sure that we really saw\\nCape North, after all. There was an impene-\\ntrable haziness about the people s ideas as to\\njust exactly which bluff it was that distressed\\nus and confused our understanding. It is\\nprobable, however, that, having gone to Bay\\nSt. Lawrence to see Cape North, we did not see\\n19 289", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0339.jp2"}, "340": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nit. We now think it lay concealed behind the\\nsplendid headland that came up out of the sea\\nat McDougal s Cove, and which no doubt is\\nevery whit as good as Cape North. Still\\nIt was a noble bluff that we saw, and it vividly\\nrecalled Smoky s red front, though this mass\\nrises almost perpendicularly. It is followed\\ninland by another and similar uprising of red\\nrock, and that by another, and so on and on,\\nall of them sending great buttresses out toward\\nthe grassy plains and finally framing in the\\nsplendid amphitheatre of rolling meadow-land.\\nThe mountains surrounding Bay St. Law-\\nrence are of bare rock. The fir-trees, the\\nspruces and hemlocks, discreetly remain at their\\nbases making a dark-green border to their\\nbright-coloured walls. There is great beauty\\nin the grim slopes of bare red rock the colour\\nof them is amazing lichens and bushes, or it\\nmay be only the reflection of the afternoon\\nlight at different angles from the scarred sur-\\nface, have made them beautiful beyond telling.\\nThere is a sense of space, of peace, and\\nalmost of awe in the presence of these strong\\nslopes with the wide grassy plain at their base,\\nand the feeling of vastness and isolation is in-\\n290", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0340.jp2"}, "341": {"fulltext": "Cape North\\ncreased by the height of the plain above the\\nshoreless sea that spreads before mountains and\\nmeadows.\\nThe great bluff at McDougal s Cove rises\\nfrom the sea in a solid wall around which one\\nmust pass in a boat to the outer bluff which is\\nindeed Cape North. There is a path over the\\nback of the mountain, however, a rough path\\nto climb, through coniferous trees where on\\nthe sheltered side they flourish, and over bare\\nstones where the trees fail.\\nKatie McDonald, blooming daughter of our\\nnew-made friends, was to go over the mountain\\nthe very afternoon of our arrival. For on the\\nother side, accessible only by boat and this\\nrude mountain path, is a cove where has been\\nbuilt a lobster factory. The factory is owned\\nby the son of a certain Rory McLeod, krhown\\nto fame as Big Rory because of his uncommon\\nheight. Money Point is over there by the\\nlobster factory and it is Money Point because\\nonce a long time ago a specie ship was\\nwrecked, and the coin fell into the water, where\\nfor many a year it was fished out or thrown up\\nby storms and came into the hands of eager\\nseekers.\\n291", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0341.jp2"}, "342": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nThe money of Money Point is still fished\\nout of the sea, but not in the form of specie.\\nIt comes out as lobster to be later transformed\\ninto money.\\nSometimes lobsters are scarce even here, and\\nthere are none to can. This happened one\\nyear when the mountains were red with wild\\nstrawberries and the canny son of Big Rory did\\nthen, so we were told, set his people to canning\\nstrawberries instead of lobsters, and reaped the\\nreward he deserved, for these mountain straw-\\nberries, the people say, are very large and juicy\\nand wonderfully flavoured.\\nWe were told, too, that on the back side of\\none of the mountains red currants grow wild\\nand in great profusion but this marvel we did\\nnot see with our own eyes, though we saw a\\ngreat many strawberry vines and some of them\\nfoolishly in bloom.\\nKatie McDonald was going over to cook for\\nher brothers, who were canning lobsters, and\\nshe did not seem to regard the excursion as\\nparticularly pleasant but when the time came\\nshe started bravely enough, and we watched\\nher until she disappeared on the lonely moun-\\ntain, as though swallowed up by it.\\n292", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0342.jp2"}, "343": {"fulltext": "Cape North\\nWe should have liked to go with Katie, but\\nthere were reasons against it, and we contented\\nourselves with climbing a bare spur to the top\\nof another mountain, hoping for a view of the\\nwhole earth. As is always the case, it was far-\\nther to the top than it seemed, and it was a\\nvery steep slope upon which huge cliffs and\\ncrags jutted out, not pleasant to surmount, and\\nperhaps not always quite safe. And at the top\\nnothing He who climbs these mountains for\\na view of the world will find himself on the edge\\nof a mile-wide plateau which is rough and hubbly,\\nand across which one cannot possibly see farther\\nthan a few rods. So, after all, it does not pay\\nvery well, for the view down into McDougal s\\nCove from the mountain-top is not as good as\\nthe view from the cove up the mountain, and\\nthe latter can be had without any exertion.\\nIn the McDonald home were a number of\\nsealskins, the seals being caught near here.\\nThey are not the fur-bearing seal, but are\\ncovered with a coarse light-coloured hair, so\\ntheir only value is in their leather. We did\\nnot see any seals, but Charlevoix did, and in his\\nletters he tells certain things about them which\\nwe may believe or not as we please\\n293", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0343.jp2"}, "344": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nThe Sea Wolf, or the Seal, says he, takes its\\nName from its Cry, which is a Sort of howling for\\nin its shape it resembles not the Wolf, nor any land\\nanimal that we know. Lescarhot asserts that he has\\nheard some cry like Screech-Owls but these might\\nbe only young ones, whose Cry was not quite formed.\\nThey make no Hesitation here. Madam, to place it in\\nthe Rank of Fishes though it is not mute, though it\\nis brought forth on the Land, and lives as much on it\\nas in the Water, and is covered with Hair In a\\nword, though it wants nothing to make it to be con-\\nsidered as an amphibious creature. The war they\\nmake with the Seals, though it is often on Land, and\\nwith the Gun, is called a Fishery.\\nThe Head of a Seal is something like a Bull-Dog s:\\nHe has four Legs, very short, especially those behind\\nIn every other Respect it is a Fish. It drags itself\\nrather than walks upon its Feet. Its Legs before\\nhave Nails, those behind are like Fins His Skin is\\nhard, and covered with short Hair of divers Colours.\\nThere are some Seals all white, and they are all so\\nwhen young but some, as they grow up, become\\nblack, others tawny many are all these Colours\\nmixed together.\\nThe skins of these creatures were tanned\\nwith the bark of the spruce-tree and used for\\nboots and all other articles made of leather.\\n294", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0344.jp2"}, "345": {"fulltext": "Cape North\\nTheir flesh was eaten, and their oil used in\\ncooking and for lighting. We are told that as\\nmany as eight hundred young ones were some-\\ntimes killed in one day, so probably one\\nwould wait as long to see a live seal in these\\nwaters as to see a moose in the mountains back\\nof Ingonish.\\nAt the McDonalds we were enlightened\\nconcerning certain pieces of furniture which\\noccasionally were found in the fisher-folk s\\nhouses, furniture out of all keeping with the\\nsimple cottage fittings, furniture that belonged\\nrather to the cities or the country-houses of\\nthe well-to-do. But here we learned that\\nthese articles were the flotsam and jetsam from\\nthe many vessels wrecked on that cruel coast,\\nand it was hinted that time was when certain\\nof the settlers busied themselves more in be-\\ncoming possessed of the spoil than in assist-\\ning the drowning.\\nTo leave Bay St. Lawrence was to turn\\nsouthward and retrace our steps over moun-\\ntains and swamps. Reluctantly we turned\\nfrom the cold northern sea and the fine amphi-\\ntheatre with its encircling mountains of bare\\nrock that were so wonderfully beautiful in the\\n295", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0345.jp2"}, "346": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nevening glow. Reluctantly we bade adieu to\\nthe McDonalds and their cordial hospitality\\nthat rang more like English than Scotch metal.\\nYet the return proved about as enjoyable as\\nthe first passing. True, the uncertainty as to\\nwhat next was gone we knew what next,\\nbut that had its advantages. It was pleasant\\nto meet again the people and to be received\\nnow like old friends. It was pleasant to carry\\nthe bits of neighbourhood gossip from station\\nto station like troubadours of old. And\\nthe scenery we found was quite new. For\\nwe were turned around now and looking the\\nother way. It is impossible, moreover, to see\\neverything in once passing, so that the return\\ntrip was fully as enjoyable as the first coming.\\nWe did not linger going back. We did\\nnot dare, for there was a threat of rain which\\nwas not to be ignored, unless we desired to\\nadd to our other experiences that of a typical\\nCape Breton autumn storm. And that of all\\nthings we did not desire, for there were few\\nplaces we should have cared to remain in,\\nstorm-bound, even for a day. So we pressed\\nahead, past Zwicker s and past Aspy Bay,\\nlovely in the hazy atmosphere. Nor did we\\n296", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0346.jp2"}, "347": {"fulltext": "^^i-rl\\nA Fishing Schooner", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0347.jp2"}, "348": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0348.jp2"}, "349": {"fulltext": "Cape North\\nstop until we had reached the hospitable roof\\nof the Half Way House, where we found all\\nas we had left it, excepting that the maternal\\ncat, having been deprived of her kitten, which\\na passing Highlander had begged to take with\\nhim, persisted in washing the face of the white\\ndog with a black head. As to the dog him-\\nself, perhaps the least said the better. He\\nwas bearing it as well as he could, but the\\nlooks he cast upon the mistaken cat we\\nfeared did not augur well for her future\\nhappiness.\\nAfter a good night s rest at the Half Way-\\nHouse, we were off in the cold morning, leav-\\ning Mrs. McPherson with reluctance, and she,\\ntoo, seemed loath to have us go. It seemed\\nas if we had known the people of Cape\\nNorth a very long time and were parting\\nfrom old friends for ever. Before the bushes\\nsvv allowed us up, we turned for a last look,\\nand on the doorstep sat the abused dog,\\nwondering, no doubt, how long he could\\nstand it, while the cat, regardless of conse-\\nquences, continued to wash his already too\\nclean countenance.\\nSometimes we stopped at our old camp-\\n297", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0349.jp2"}, "350": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nfires, where they were in particularly favour-\\nable spots, and sometimes we found new\\nplaces for the noonday rest.\\nThe people in the barley fields nodded to\\nus and sometimes even smiled. They had\\nhad time to talk us over and compare notes,\\nand though we might be a little lacking to\\ngo on such a purposeless journey, still they\\nfelt in their hearts that we were harmless.\\nWe passed the Ingonishes without stopping\\nuntil we had crossed the ferry at the foot of\\nSmoky. We did it to save time, for often the\\nmen are away in the morning on the more im-\\nportant business of fishing, and the traveller is\\nobliged to await their return. It was just at\\nnightfall when we crossed the ferry trusting to\\nour oft-tried and never-failing powers of per-\\nsuasion to get taken in at some wayside cottage\\non the other side. This time we came near\\nmaking a fatal mistake, for the cottages at the\\nfoot of Smoky would none of us. They\\nwere few and far between, and it is true\\nwere tiny, and no doubt it was true, as they\\nsaid, that there was no room for us. At last\\nwe cast anchor in one in which we knew was a\\nspare room and where was a small barn. They\\n298", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0350.jp2"}, "351": {"fulltext": "Cape North\\nsaid they could n t we said they must. They\\nsaid it was impossible, and we pictured in\\ngraphic terms the alternative, our being obliged\\nto spend the cold night on the mountain-\\nside, where they would go out next day and\\nfind our frozen forms, and be obliged to bury\\nus then and there, and be pointed to by all\\nposterity as the cruel folk who had turned\\ntravellers from their door, to perish on the\\nmountain. They saw the reasonableness of\\nthe argument, and we stayed, though it is not\\nquite fair to say they allowed it, suffered it\\nwould be better at least until all hands were\\nwell warmed up over the kitchen stove, and\\na supper of oatmeal porridge had lent a more\\ngenial glow to all our heart-strings. Then we\\nfell into friendly conversation, and the woman\\nshowed us her rugs, and the man told us\\nof the awful night when he rescued Parson\\nGibbons from sure death on the side of\\nSmoky.\\nMany of these people are endowed with\\nsecond sight, and all believe in it. The\\nstory the man told was this One night,\\nbitter cold and snowing, he had a sudden\\nknowledge that Parson Gibbons was on the\\n299", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0351.jp2"}, "352": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nmountain and in trouble. He prepared to go\\nout and his wife said it was folly, for the parson\\nwas not expected to pass at that time of the\\nmonth. But such terror now seized the man\\nthat he was compelled to go and stumbling\\nthrough the snow he at last found the object of\\nhis search, who, overcome by the cold, had sunk\\ndown and ceased to exert himself. If he had\\nnot been found in this strange way, he would\\nsurely have perished that night.\\nAt Wreck Cove we opened three large gates\\nand crossed three broad meadows in order to\\nmake our call upon Big Rory s folks. Big\\nRory himself was not at home but we visited\\nwith Mrs. Rory, who, we were pleased to find,\\nwas sister to Mrs. McLeod of Englishtown.\\nFrom Big Rory s to Indian Brook, the way\\nwas lovely, for the mountains of beauty were\\nabout us, and we caught occasional glimpses of\\nthose of Englishtown across the sea.\\nThe last night we spent at Angus Mc-\\nDonald s, who had a large house in the flat\\nlands not far from Indian Brook. We had\\nlingered along the way, visiting with old friends\\nand being hailed by new ones, for our fame\\nhad gone abroad, and every one who was\\n300", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0352.jp2"}, "353": {"fulltext": "Cape North\\nrelated to any one we had met and who\\nis not related in that part of the world\\nclaimed acquaintance, and it was dark before\\nwe reached our destination, and we were\\ntroubled. Just as the case began to look\\nserious, we saw a dim form approaching. We\\nasked it the way to Angus McDonald s, and\\nthe man replied that he was Angus McDonald\\nhimself, and was on the way home, and that\\nwe had missed the turn and must go back\\na little way. Providential meeting! Gladly\\nwe retraced our steps, and were soon in the\\nwarmth of the McDonald hearthstone.\\nIt rained all night, and in the morning the\\nsky was wet and sullen, but we decided to\\npress on. Better a wetting than isolation in\\nany of these cottages so on we went, and\\nsoon the rain came down as if in a fury at\\nhaving let us escape so long. We crossed the\\niron bridge over the Barasois River and did\\nnot turn to the left toward Torquil McLane s\\nferry, for the waves ran high in Englishtown\\nHarbour and there would be no crossing there\\nthat day. So we turned to the right and went\\nNorth River way, which is longer but not\\ncomplicated by ferries.\\n301", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0353.jp2"}, "354": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nWe thought we had seen brooks before, but\\nthat day s drive convinced us that we had until\\nthen known nothing about the subject. Then,\\ntoo, was explained the use of the many appar-\\nently useless bridges under every one poured a\\ntorrent, indeed, the road itself was often a\\nmountain torrent up which or down which Dan\\nwaded, keeping to the road by some instinct\\nwhich we had not. There came a place where\\nwe were surrounded by water, and where there\\nwas a pond at one side, we knew not how deep.\\nThe road took a turn along the edge of the\\npond but what turn, which way should we go\\nto keep on terra Jirina beneath the rushing\\nflood We were in despair, and finally told\\nDan to go his own way, which he did, and took\\nus safely through.\\nDown the mountain sides rushed foaming\\nstreams that plunged straight across the road\\nevery mountain was streaked with white lines\\nof foam and dashing water. The world had\\ngone brook-mad. Sometimes the rain fell so\\nheavily as to obscure everything but the\\nwatery way in front then it ceased, and we\\nlooked out upon the earth soaked and fresh,\\nand covered with brooks.\\n302", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0354.jp2"}, "355": {"fulltext": "Cape North\\nWe were soon soaked to the skin, but in spite\\nof that we were thrilled and warmed by the\\nbeauty of the rain-clad mountains. There,\\nwonderful to relate did the crisp moss on the\\ntrees in a moment fluff out into soft masses\\nof delicious green did the stringy beards on\\nthe limbs of the spruces expand and become\\nlight and graceful, and able to sway in beautiful\\ncurves did the grim woods turn into fairy\\npalaces with deep soft carpets of lovely moss\\nand exquisite tapestry on every tree and rock.\\nThe road was new and lovely and in the\\nsunshine must be a wonder-land of splendid\\nmountain scenery, judging from the occasional\\nglimpses we caught through the mists.\\nOur dinner that day consisted of crackers\\nand cheese and apples, which we sat in the\\nwaggon and ate, while Dan munched his oats\\nas best he could standing in his tracks in the\\nroad.\\nIt was a wild storm, and the road seemed\\nendless. We struggled along from early\\nmorning until almost nightfall, finally entering\\nBaddeck chilled to the marrow and thoroughly\\nmiserable, while Dan seemed hardly able to take\\nanother step.\\n303", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0355.jp2"}, "356": {"fulltext": "Down North and Up Along\\nA few hours later, sitting coseyly before a\\nglowing fire, dry and warm, with that delicious\\ndrowsiness that comes under such circum-\\nstances, the pictures of our trip down north\\nkept flitting before our minds and the dearest\\npicture of all was of the mossy rain-drenched\\nforest road with the newborn brooks tumbling\\nacross our path. The wetting did us no\\nharm, and the day in the rain was a fitting\\nending to our strange and delightful journey\\ndown north.\\n304", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0356.jp2"}, "357": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0357.jp2"}, "358": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0358.jp2"}, "359": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0359.jp2"}, "360": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0360.jp2"}, "361": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2872", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0361.jp2"}, "362": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2993", "width": "1868", "jp2-path": "downnorthupalong00morl_0362.jp2"}}