126 NOVA SCOTIA. 



been long excluded by artificial obstacles. Here is Martin's 

 Cove, where a storm drove in two years ago, and played 

 havoc with the fishing houses and smacks, shivering them to 

 atoms and sweeping them out to sea. When the day is fine 

 the scenery along this route is most enchanting ; but not 

 unfrequently fogs roll in and beset the traveler, shutting out 

 the view for hours. Then as suddenly they roll away, and 

 the landscape gleams forth again, transplendent with tenfold 

 beauty in the welcome sunlight. And now we come to Ches- 

 ter Basin, island-gemmed and indented with many a little 

 cove ; and far out to sea, looming up in solitary grandeur, is 

 Aspotogon, a mountain headland said to be the highest land 

 in Nova Scotia. The road follows the shore for many a mile, 

 and then turns abruptly up the beautiful valley of Gold 

 Eiver, the finest of all the salmon streams of this grand 

 locality. In it there are eleven glorious pools, all within two 

 miles of each other, and others for several miles above at 

 longer intervals. Above the first series a canoe should be 

 used. The lower stream affords a succession of unobstructed 

 casts such as I have never seen for elbow-room and sweep of 

 line on any other stream. We halt for a moment where the 

 stage-road crosses the bridge, and Io6k wistfully into the vista 

 above, where the black waters come whirling down, cool and 

 delicious, flecked with foam. Just below us there is a splen- 

 did pool, and we can see Indian John and his boys beside a 

 boulder at the tail of it, dipping. Upon the grassy bank be- 

 hind are four dilapidated wigwams of hemlock bark, with 

 quilts suspended across the entrances, serving for doors. It is 

 evident the salmon are running lively, or the Indians would 

 not be here. Fain would we tarry ; but we must wait for the 

 morrow, and dream of its joys to-night in Chester. So, leav- 

 ing word for Johnny and Joe to expect us in the morning, 

 we drive to Charley Lovett's hospitable inn, six miles farther. 

 There we shall enjoy the full fruition of the angler's hopes, 

 without one drawback or vexation to mar its ripe perfection. 

 "There'll be no sorrow there." Private parlor and bedroom 



