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THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE 



tons of earth a day, made short work of 

 completing the deepened canal. 



Proceeding- still along the north road, 

 we reach Bournedale, with its sweeping 

 canal curve, and are soon abreast of the 

 highest point of the cut, 30 feet above 

 sea-level. Ahead of us is Sagamore, an 

 interesting example of New England en- 

 terprise, with its thriving manufacturing 

 plant at a heretofore remote spot and 

 without the benefit of water transporta- 

 tion. Approaching the handsome high- 

 way bridge, we stop at its center and 

 look down at the new channel, its banks 

 paved with stone as a protection from 

 the swash of passing vessels. To the 

 eastward is the canal, widened for the 

 passing ships from east and west. 



We now turn and proceed toward 

 Sandwich, taking the first left-hand road, 

 which leads us back to the canal location, 

 and soon come in sight of the extreme 

 eastern end of the channel, with its 

 broadened prism of 300-foot bottom 

 width. This widening is essential to pro- 

 vide for the safe entrance and exit to 

 and from the bay. Inclining to the right 

 and continuing on the road, we cross the 

 railroad tracks to the left, and from the 

 top of "Town Hill" look down upon the 

 400 acres of former swamp land, upon 

 which has been placed two million cubic 

 yards of sand. 



To the northward, 16 miles away, are 

 the clififs of Plymouth. If the weather 

 be clear, the shaft dedicated to the Pil- 

 grmis at Provincetown can be dimly seen 

 20 miles to the northward and eastward, 

 while in the near foreground lies the 

 massive granite breakwater, 3,000 feet 

 long, containing 350,000 tons of granite 

 as an ample protection against the north- 

 easters which occasionally blow. The 

 protecting arm of the western shore of 

 the cape is seen as it rounds from the 

 southward toward its northern extremity. 



Such a trip over the 8-mile isthmus is 

 an object lesson, giving an enlarged im- 

 pression of modern engineering and fu- 

 ture possibilities. If time serve, the trav- 

 eler should linger in the neighborhood, 

 for there he will hear from men bearing 

 historic names how the Perry s of Sand- 

 wich fought the battles of 181 2 or opened 

 up Japan in 1854; how James Otis of 

 Barnstable pleaded the cause of the col- 



ony prior to the outbreak of the Revolu- 

 tion. Others will tell of past canal fail- 

 ures, and old skippers will spin yarns of 

 the seafaring days, and relate how Col- 

 lins thought out his plans for the first 

 American line of steamers, while many a 

 story will be related of Webster, Cleve- 

 land, and Joe Jefferson, who lived near 

 by and fished in the neighboring streams. 



As your motor carries you to the 

 southward toward Falmouth from Sand- 

 wich, you will pass the farms of thrifty 

 Portuguese, who settled here when the 

 days of whaling ended, and you will 

 compare these natives of the Azores with 

 the latest immigrants, the Italians, whom 

 you saw along the canal line, where they 

 were as alert with pick and shovel upon 

 this American canal as were their fore- 

 bears in the days when they toiled in the 

 A'enetian swamps. 



Further to the eastward you may pass 

 through the Mashpee reservation, where 

 descendants of the original Indian tribes 

 still live, and then, in quick and notable 

 contrast, run by the fine estates of the 

 western sons of Massachusetts, who have 

 been lured back by the call of the cape ; 

 thence through pine forests, bordered by 

 numerous fresh-water lakes on the one 

 side and the sea beach upon the other, 

 you will reach Chatham and gaze out 

 over Monomo}^ Point, where the French- 

 man De Monts nearly came to grief in 

 1605 upon the cape which he rightfully 

 named "The Graveyard of Ships." 



If the fog begins to roll in, with the 

 prevailing wind, you will realize in part 

 the necessity of ships avoiding the treach- 

 erous sunken reefs and shoals, although 

 no one can fully appreciate the full dan- 

 ger of the Vineyard Sound route unless 

 he has faced the "dirty southwesters" or 

 listened to the graphic description of 

 wreck from the lips of the fishermen. 

 The local and true stories told by those 

 who have escaped the toll of the sea are 

 even more graphic than those in the nu- 

 merous works of fiction concerning this 

 interesting locality. 



Humanity demanded a canal at Cape 

 Cod ; commerce needed it ; perseverance, 

 pluck, and financial ability have finished 

 it — ready for a tributary and existing 

 tonnage greater than that of Suez and 

 over twice that estimated for Panama. 



