40 HAMILTON — ON TIDES OF THE BAY OF FUNDY. 



cape Split there is another fine exhibition of " tide rips " caused 

 by a submarine ledge of trap extending far out into the channel. 

 When there is a high wind and the waves are in motion every 

 where, these "tide rips" are not so discernible as at other 

 times. Their appearance in calm weather bears a striking 

 resemblance to that of some of the most impetuous of the 

 rapids on the St. Lawrence and Ottawa. 



There are few visitors to Minas strait who, in order to gaze 

 "upon its beauties, would not willingly make their passage 

 through it more lingeringly than the velocity of its tide will 

 permit. On the one hand stretches for ten miles in length, the 

 unbroken range of lofty, wood-crowned, frowning cliffs collec- 

 tively called Blomidon. At its north-western termination it 

 becomes thinned to a narrow promontory — a bold rock four 

 hundred feet high, cleft from its summit to its base. This split, 

 from which the cape derives its name, being clearly defined, is 

 discernible from as great a distance in either direction as the 

 rock itself can be seen, however faintly. Beyond this a succes- 

 sion of shattered basaltic pillars and lofty pinnacles extend far 

 out into the — here ever-foaming — tide, and terminate in the 

 submarine ledge already mentioned. At the eastern termination 

 of this vast wall, cape Blomidon frowns down from a height of 

 five hundred and seventy feet, with its basaltic parapet wall and 

 its scarp of red sandstone, like an immense bastion placed for 

 the defence of this watery pass. On the other hand there is the 

 bold, semi-circular sweep of Greville Bay, with its warm- 

 tinted, sandstone cliffs, terminating away to the westward, in the 

 hemispherical shaped Spencer's island, and the lofty table of 

 cape D'Or. Carrying the eye eastwardly, it next falls upon 

 cape Sharp, a wedge of trap some three hundred and fifty to 

 four hundred feet high, jutting far out into the strait. Then 

 comes the semi-isolated headland, called Partridge island, 

 already mentioned, and its two cozy, placid little harbours, one 

 above and the other below, with their broad, clean, shelving 

 beach, and the pretty village of Parrsboro' clustering on its 

 further margin. If from this point we complete the circle 

 of vision, it will be to look upon as beautiful a sheet of water 

 as ever tide flowed in, fading away, on the right, into the rich 



