18 FROM BLOMIDON TO SMOKY. 



prospect of food and bed, when suddenly I saw 

 the gleam of water directly before us, and the 

 next moment we came out of the woods upon 

 the shore of a long, narrow lake held close to 

 the heart of lofty hills. Our road followed the 

 western margin of the tarn, and the dark forest 

 which overhung us made premature twilight for 

 us to jog through. Beyond the lake, on its east- 

 ern side, three impressive hills stood shoulder to 

 shoulder, one of rock, one of turf, one of forest. 

 They were so steep, it seemed as though only 

 goats could find a foothold upon their flanks. 

 Between the hill of rock and the hill of turf lay 

 a great gorge, overhung by cliffs and full of 

 shadows. The hills themselves were bathed in 

 warm sunlight, and the water was partly in 

 shadow and partly in light. A mother loon and 

 her smart little chick were swimming down the 

 lake, and seven or eight great blue kingfishers 

 flew up and down its borders, sounding over and 

 over again their watchman's rattles. This was 

 Loch o' Law, a gem worthy of its rare setting 

 and of its place near the heart of Cape Breton. 

 From it the escaping waters rush downward to 

 help form the Northeast Margaree River, and 

 the road we were following led us down with the 

 stream to the pleasant intervale where geese 

 wander in flocks up and down the roads, and 

 salmon swim proudly in the bright waters of 

 their favorite river. 



