26 FROM BLOMIDON TO SMOKY. 



towards Sydney and the entrance to the Bras 

 d'Or. Still the beauty of St. Anne's followed 

 us, for the glimpses which we had now and then 

 of its slowly diminishing shores were of sturdy 

 mountains with forests reaching to the waves, 

 valleys in which the shades of evening were 

 gathering, and farm lands upon which the short 

 thick grass lay like velvet in the slanting rays 

 of the sun. The view eastward was more rugged. 

 Strong faces of rock turned towards the sea and 

 fought the waves which had crumbled them, and 

 torn away all but the hardest cliffs and ledges. 

 One long finger of rock reached into the ocean, 

 and pointed to a group of islands which may 

 once have been a part of it. They were not 

 green isles with sandy margins, but huge angu- 

 lar masses of rock with high cliffs, under which 

 storms might rage for centuries without drag- 

 ging down the grim ramparts. 



We passed a few farms, with houses and 

 barns standing far back from the road, as is the 

 fashion of these Highlanders, but most of our 

 way lay between pastures, mowing-fields with 

 short grass partly cropped by the scythes, and 

 woodland where black and white spruces and 

 balsam firs grew densely together. Upon a 

 meadow bordering a salt creek a flock of yellow- 

 legs were whistling noisily, and back and forth 

 over them kingfishers were flying with their 



