FROM BLOMIDON TO SMOKY. 21 



Early on the following Monday morning, 

 having in the mean time eaten wild strawberries 

 picked in the larch swamps and spruce thickets 

 back of Baddeck, we set out for Cape Smoky. 

 Theoretically we were going on foot, but it so 

 chanced that the kindest and most entertain- 

 ing of friends found it convenient to carry us 

 eighteen miles northward to Englishtown, on 

 St. Anne's Bay. Sullen clouds hung over Bras 

 d'Or, as we drove for a mile or two along its 

 shore before entering the woods and beginning 

 the long and easy ascent to the watershed be- 

 tween lake and bay. Gradually the sky as- 

 sumed a more threatening aspect, and when at 

 last the height of land was reached, and we saw 

 before us St. Anne's Bay, narrow at first among 

 the trees, and growing broad as it met the sea 

 and faced boldly northward towards Newfound- 

 land, huge black clouds rolled eastward, pouring 

 cold rain upon mountain, bay, and road. 



We drove faster as the tingling drops splashed 

 upon us. Dashing through dark spruces, spin- 

 ning down steep grades, round sudden curves, 

 over frail bridges which spanned foaming 

 brooks, and then out into the open, we found 

 the bay on our left, and beyond it, showing 

 dimly through the storm, a large mountain. It 

 was Barasois (or Smith's) Mountain, and from its 

 left North River emerged to empty into a broad 



