82 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Auoust SO. 1883. 



SCHOODIC LAKES TO CAPE BRETON. 



IN TWO F.VRTS-rART II. 



HAVING bidden adieu to G rand Lake, we again found our- 

 selves at Oalaison Thursday, June 7. Byleaving Grand 

 Lake at 5 and connecting with the boat, which departs Cram 

 foot of Grand Lake Stream at C A. M., we readied Prince- 

 ton about 9:30, in time for the train for Calais, viz., 10:15. 

 We look our dinner at Calais, and at 2:30 P. . VI. we took 

 the train at depot of Grand Southern Railroad for St. John, 

 N. B., eighty-two miles. 



Pp to l his season of the year this enterprising corporation 

 runs lmi. I liree (rains a week. This week they commenced 

 running ons train a day at 2:30 P.M. About 6;80 we 

 reached (ink ton. opposite St. John, and crossing the ferry 

 soou reached Hotel Dulferin. the most desirable house at St. 

 John. 



During the evening we visited Dingee Scribncr's and 

 Charles "Baillie's for (ishing tackle, the two principal places 

 in the city. In my judgment Scribner makes the best rod 

 in the Province, and Baillie ties the best fly. Halifax is way 

 behind in the fishing-tackle line. 



Friday at 7:55 A . M. we took the Intercolonial Railroad 

 for Moneton, eighty-nine miles, where we changed for 

 Stopping twenty minut 

 irked that bis wasted ti 

 mward. At 5:20 won! 

 we again changed for I 

 :ry in quest of New Glas 



rlei 



is tin 



finally drops off into the 

 gradually steals over him 



Truro, N 

 der, Prex rem 



we again sped 



further, when 



Breton Rail 



pated spending thi 



village of Truro, and*turns Ids 



point of our continent to where 



sea, a slight sense of lonclinef 



which he cannot fully resist. 



The single track which thrusts its iong iron arm out 123 

 miles from ;he main trunk to Laud's End, hums a lonesome 

 strain as the cars rattle along its rails over a roadbed which 

 rises and lulls with the actual lay of the land. 



When one reaches the end of this railway he is verily at 

 the extremity of all railroading on this continent. Look at 

 the Strait oPCanao on the map. It is the jumping-off place 

 into the sea. It is to this continent what Provincctown or 

 Cape Cod is to Massachusetts, and as you are bowled along 

 your journey, through a sparsely settled country, where the 

 people seem dreaming and idling their days away in ihe 

 mellow glow of the mellow month of June, you' cannot 

 withhold the feeling that you are going down, down, a 

 gentle decline to the end of the earth, and unless your prog- 

 ress is soon checked, you will plunge iugloriously into the 

 sea. 



It was our purpose to reach Mulgrnve wharf at the Strait 



fc-for "Baddi__ 



ned without on 

 about 7 P. M. 

 til one and one 



Glasgow till after- 

 teh the boat, which runs 

 Wednesdays and Fridays. 



id the captain of 



of Canso in time to connect with fh 

 and t hat sort of thing," but we had i 

 host. The steamer would leave Muk 

 Friday night, cross "to PortHauksbury 

 half ii, I is, and lie there till Saturday in 



Now, as there was no train out of N 

 noon of next day, we could no 

 only three trips a week, Mom!; 

 While considering the situatio: 



the Piclou steamer was aboard, and we quickly mad' 

 acquaintance. He proved a jolly good fellow aiid advised 

 us that the better way lo reach our destination was via 

 Pietou to Port Hood, O. B., which was his destination. He 

 said if we would go along with him he would rap up the 

 steward when we got aboard and give us a little supper, and 

 otherwise make it as pleasant as possible, and so we tied to 

 him. At 8:30 wc reached New Glasgow, where a spur 

 about seven miles in length reaches down to Pietou from the 

 main branch. Being informed by the conductor that our 

 train would delay twenty or thirty minutes to shift freight, 

 we improved the time looking over the village, returning to 

 the depot in time to take the train. "On board," shouted 

 the conductor, and all went aboard but Prex. He calmly 

 viewed the moving train, remarked leisurely to Muekuy". 

 "That isn't our train," and continued his walk. St, how- 

 ever, got aboard in time to inform the conductor that one 

 man was missing. "Thunder," says the couductor, "1 

 wouldn't leave him behind not for one hundred dollars," 

 and he went for the bell rope with a rush j but, unfortu- 

 nately, like a ship at sea when the life boats are wanted, the 

 bell rope was out of gear. Ten or fifteen freight car: 

 vened between our car and the locomotive, and the b 

 lay along top, but as yet no connection hud been 

 Alter we had run a mile or better the train wasstopp 

 that good soul of a conductor ran his train back to ft 

 and picked up our missing man. Moneybags opened hi 

 purse, lint that conductor would have none of it. 



About 10 Captain Lamar conducted us aboard the Beaver, 

 which we found to be a snug propeller, and we were soon 

 under way. After we had passed Pietou Light, wc went 

 below and sat down to a com f oi table tea; toward midnight 

 we all turned in, and when we awoke in the morning wc 

 were approaching Port Hood, fifty-rive miles from Pietou. 

 About 5 A. M. we were tied up to the wharf. Here the 

 captain introduced us to a Mr. McKay, who is a custom 

 officer and otherwise an important personage of the village, 

 who extended to us. as George R. remarked, the freedom joJ 

 Port Hood, and, taking us in tow, led us up to Mrs. Smith's, 

 who keeps the principal public house of the village, 



Shall I attempt to describe this settlement? "Well, it is 

 the last place you want to get into and the first you want to 

 get out of. There is but one street, which in pleasantry we 

 will call Main street. It runs parallel with the shore," and 

 only a short distance from it. It conies into the village at 

 one end and goes out ai the other. Where it comes from or 

 goes u. 1 know not, but rumor says it goes entirely around 

 the island. 



Along this quiet way, private dwelling's, a church, a gen- 

 eral notion store, post-oflice, court house, doctor's office and 

 dram shop are ranged. Not asleep— no. the dormant state 

 is not so healthful as that, but dead! 1 love a .sleepy old 

 town, where people seem to dream their lives away! A- 

 sleepy town somehow has a healthful aud cheerful look; the 

 lean and walks tidy, bright flowers blossom by 

 ■ -cry air is full of the hum of insect: 



ade. 



.aud 



! depot 



tb 



and the 



riowe 

 rank ' 



.nd the 



going to decay: 

 the gutters givi 

 phere seems eh 

 people I can 



" '-', well- 

 OUt of their way to do y 



irged ■ 

 nly spe 



But here 

 -ds spring ur 

 oisome smeUs, 

 ill i poisonous i 

 k kindly. They* 



ami e 





i favor, and are. 



ihabby and 



it the wayside and 



d the very atmos- 



pors. But of the 



re good-natured, 



strangers, will go 



as a rule, honest, 



sober and industrious. As there was nothing to hold us 

 here we got away as soon as we could; we, however, bad to 

 put in one night here, as we could not get a. team to take us 

 out of town. The next afternoon, however, we prevailed 

 upon a farmer to hitch up his pair and take us on our jour- 

 ney, 



About 2 P. M. we. set out for the forks of the Margaree. 

 A. pleasant ride of ten miles took us to Mabon. when- we 

 stopped for an hour at the Murray House to feed the horses. 

 After leaving Port Hood the atmosphere brightened and sweet- 

 ened, and we began to realize what a delightful country we 

 were iu. The air was clear and buoyant and fragrant as the 

 summer sweets. The road to Mabon is a very good one, and 

 wc sped merrily along under a genial sky. Mabon is a pic- 

 turesque spot, with a, neat and comfortable looking inn; as 

 we did not try its accommodations, I can only vouch for its 

 looks. 



The village is nestled in a little valley amid bold and at- 

 tractive scenery, at the mouth of the broad estuary of Mabon 

 River. Before we left Mabon, clouds begau*to gather, 

 threat.. nr.ig rein. \\ ■_ however re:r.:mjd our journey about 

 5 P. M. Wc had not gone far ere the rain began to descend 

 to our great discomfort. About 7 P. M. we' reached John 

 McLean's at Slrathlorne, ten miles from Mabon (half way 

 from Port Hood to the Forks), where we stopped for supper. 

 and tin.' rain continuing, we put up for the night. 



As night set in the rain came faster, and roads became 

 heavy; a dense sea fog settled down upon the earth, and the 

 air was raw aud chilly. We had just settled ourselves, down 

 for a comfortable night ol it, wheu Chamberlain drove into 

 the yard. My first impression was that he was a cattle driver 

 or horse thief. His thick oyercoat was buttoned up to his 

 chin, his felt hat was down on all sidjs, and the rain 

 was spouting from various points. His face wore the look 

 of a warrior just going into battle, fixed and determined. 



"Aren't you going to stop and get some supper." inquired 

 Geo. R. "No," says "Bi" (which is Greek for Chamber- 

 lain), "had my supper and must move on " "But von ain't 

 gomg ^through in this rain, are you?" queried Mackay. 

 "Yes," replied my first lef tenant, giving an anxious look at 

 the sky, "I'll go and make arrangements for you; if they 

 were to see you before agreeing to keep you they'd never 

 take you in." "Humph," C. replied, "if tliat face of yours 

 is a recommend anywhere, I don't want to go to that place," 

 and I made for the house again. Bi went on, and the rest 

 remained over night at McLean's, 



It may have been selfish but it was comfortable. The 

 good woman of the household removed the fireboard at our 

 suggestion, and soon a cheerful fire yvas blazing on the old- 

 fashioned hearth. Outside the wind moaned and the rain 

 beat against the panes, the fog came down thick aud 

 heavy and enveloped the whole heavens in a shroud of 

 gloom. We thought of poor Bi plodding slowly onward, 

 feeling his way as it were along a road, while evc : ry twenty 

 rods was a corduroy bridge, which ten to one had" been up- 

 set by the late heavy rains, while wc, comfortably housed, 

 chatted the hours "away in the cheery firelight, aud we 

 breathed the hope, that he would discharge his duty as first, 

 leftenant manfully. 



At 6:80 A. M. we resumed our journey. The roads were 

 quite heavy and dense banks of fog wrapped the surrounding 

 heights in their watery folds. Overcoats were in requisition. 

 About A. M. we reached Broad Cove Marsh, a "way 

 office" where the mail wagous stop to feed. It is kept by 

 Donald MeLeod. It is ten miles from McLean's, and ten 

 beyond is Margaree Forks. 



We delayed at Broad Cove to feed also, that is, our horses 

 did. It seems a queer thing to do, by the way, this stop- 

 ping every ten miles to feed. Having baited, we continued 

 our journey. In the meantime the fog had lifted, and the 

 ominous clouds which hovered over us ui the early morning 

 faded away before the coming sun, and all is 'bright and 

 beautiful. The scenery is pretty without being striking. 

 The spring nuns of two or three weeks ago have left the. trace 

 of theii violence behind. Almost every bridge yve pass is more 

 or less upset by the action of the waters. Before reaching 

 Margaree we bad to ford a river some eight rods wide anil 

 three to four feet deep, the bridge having been entirely car- 

 ried away bj r the freshets. 



About noon we reached Margaree Fork's, of which wc had 

 read, talked and dreamed. That goal to which our eyes had 

 been turned and our thoughts directed since we bade our 

 native heath "good-by." Yes, we were in that land of 

 sweet delights, which has furnished the theme of many a 

 sportsman's song and story. 



"Did it meet our anticipations?" "Yes." No fairer val- 

 ley than that of the beautiful Margaree basks beneath 

 the summer sun, or drinks the dews of the summer night. 



At the "Forks" the northeast and southwest Provinces 

 marry, aud in happy wedlock move blissfully and grace- 

 fully onward to the sea six miles eastward, I say "peace- 

 fully." Yes; there is nothing boisterous iu the flow of the 

 Margaree, The descent of either branch from its source to 

 the sea is gradual and easy, and the gentle murmur of its 

 waters as it ripples along through the verdant meadows falls 

 as sweetly upon the ear as an evening lullaby. 



Sinuous in either branch, they turn and wind their way 

 around the foot of the hills and mountains which hem them 

 in on either side. The south. vest branch has its source in 

 Ainsley Lake, or as sometimes called Lake Margaree, and is 

 the principal source of the Margaree River. In'tbe very hol- 

 tow of the divide, scarce a hundred rods from the fork, on 

 a rising Slope overlooking this peaceful valley aud mountain 

 range, rests the peaceful cot of Samuel Campbell, a hale, 

 hearty old Scotchman upon whose head thesuows of seventy 

 winters have lightly falleu. 



_ Thanks to Mr. Chamberlain, our efficient leftenant, our 

 lines happily were cast at his hospitable abode. A pleasant 

 family that," the cheerful old man, with bis musical Scotch 

 accent, and his sou Dugald, and his glide wife, who did so 

 much to make our stay pleasant, 



From this eminence we could look down the valley more 

 than two miles to where the river yvas finding its way to the 

 sea. In the foreground the "village school," with its sixty 

 scholars, daily held its swuy. A little to the left a neat 

 wooden bridge spans the Margaree. To the right a climbing 

 height, lifting itself upward and extending outward, crosses 

 the scene and smiles upon the valley below. 



Following downward it confines the river till it is lost in 

 the distance. To the eastward, toward the source of the 

 northeast branch, it bends around tiil its graceful curves are 

 lost to view. It is one of the most charming spots it was 

 ever my fortune to visit. 



Three days we spent upon the bauks of this peaceful 

 81 ream in Ibis restful valley. We were early for salmon, but 

 of trout there was no end; not large, but from one-quarter of 

 a pound to a pound, and every one taken with a fly, We 



bad a little experience with salmon, but we were from b-u 

 days to two weeks too early. 



In the season, the M.ugaive is second to no other in the 

 Provinces for salmon, fishing for which is here done entirely 



shore. Salmon lishin 

 nd-! 



from tin 



trolled entirely by the In 



but the first one who h 



according to the numb 



slay) generally is "mo 



lip; and the one who y\ 



then "goes a.-fishing," i 



he can eoav the tenant of the 



The best Hies lor fishing in 



"silver doctor," "Durham range 



"Jock Scot." for early fish bur" a 



"fairy" and "Montreal'," "butchi 



good. No "guides" are neeessa 



river. Any one who can gaff a S 



Jarnes Carroll, Dugald Carroll ai 



good men. Charges si per day; 



But .the end of cur itzkUzr. 

 homeward turn. Our rods are 

 strung. Books, papers, etc., w 

 their way out of the satchel, and 



of the party i 

 rch of all he 

 is till the set 

 1 perchance find 1 



'Ools 10 let 



length of the 

 V till he pulls 

 'idly open and 

 ielflefl, unless 

 m drop a line. 

 salmon are the 



nd'T aud lightning," 



ry water. Later, the 

 aud "admiral," arc 



' one once knows the 



is all that is required. 



:ander White are all 



ud themselves. 



tjigh, and yve must 



ted. and Qiegafi at 



naceomitably found 

 bout the room 



are iguominiously thrust back into place. The reel is 

 wound up, the whipped and frayed fly is returned to his 

 cotton flannel leaf to dry bis tangled wings, and the book is 

 closed upon it with a snap, and slowed away behind a con- 

 fused mass of things to be found only in a sportsman's 

 satchel. The task is finally completed, "the last article is 

 1 into the only empty space, and Ihe valise, like an 

 overfed toad, is thrown into the general pile to await the 

 wagon Which starts at 3:30 A. M. 



"We 



eil hi 



But before 



:entlemau. our lancllo 

 tenacity- this people cli 

 Mr. Mackay, el' our pa 

 delighted the old gent I 

 respouded with a bear 

 immediately inquired,' 

 and great was his dfcsi 

 the old gent remembei 



We caught him in the act of whispering slyly to Mr. 

 to "come and take a nip with me, my countryman. 

 old gent was fond of his pipe, and it' was a refreshing pic- 

 ture, fifter fl day's fishing, lo see him sit down, amf pull 

 away at his old clay pipe, aud listen to his musical "Wed, 

 weel, weel, but it was too bad, 'Mr. Melyi.' you lost that 

 l.ig salmon to-day. but never moind. ye'U gel a bigger one to- 

 morrow." 



At a late hour wc shook the old man's hand "good-bye," 

 and turned in. Friday, June 15, just I wo weeks Ironfthe 

 day we left Boston, we piled into Dugald Campbell's c nn- 

 fortable wagon and turned our faces homeward, 



It was the uninviting hour of 3:30 A. M. (let those who 

 love to get out of bed at this horn- write their apostrophes— 

 he doesn't belong to our parly). 



A heavy fog hung about the horizon and a. frosriness was 

 '.u the air. For the first hour or so we shivered in our over 



ord more of toe old Scotch 

 the Highland." Withwlini 



memory of their native land. 

 if BeOtQh descent, and Ibis 

 illy. When introduced he 

 Hue my countryman," and 

 And do you speak Gaelic, Mr. Mclvi," 

 ppointineut at a negative reply But 

 kind, however, and occasionally 

 McKi'' 



coats; then the sun broil 

 first iu the form of an inverted 

 sight it was, and I came near forgi 

 up lo early. Wheu it came for 

 thought. I never saw a nunc lr..i 

 never saw a sunrise before, inquir 

 R. was cruel enough to tell him it 

 Buddeck Lighthouse. 



The scenery for some fifteen or t 

 the Forks is scarcely to hi 

 either band for miles and 

 600 to 1,500 feet in height, which a 

 uiiant vegetation in every shade of 



Here and fhere bald pales aud rocky laces appear from 

 out the foliage, while at their foot yve noted several fresh- 

 led greatly to their charms. 



scenery of the White 



ates, and showed itself 



riscchl. and a beautiful 



ug myself for getting 



in its full splendor I 



iitiful sight. Prex, who 



ed v, ■hat It was. and Geo. 



: was the gilded ball on 



wenty miles after leaving 



ed on this continent On 



s mountain ranges from 



• mostly clothed in lux- 



ater lakes, which t 



It is uot the bold 

 Mountains, orihat o 

 subdned picturesque 



and Lake George. . 



whole face of the country 



Hi- 1, 



ids of the Hudson, bul the 



>:ii,-gbeauly oi tin G: kills 



ichej Bras d'Or Lake the 

 iiiged. Mountains dwarfed 



hills, and hills into a wilderness waste Lakes and 

 rivers disappear, and nothiug greets the eye Inn ;.■ n ■■. m.i 

 acres of wood and timber, not green and "vigorous arOTt ih 

 exhaling fragrant odors of balsam and fir, but StUlk and 

 dying trees, tangled undergrowth and decaying vegetation. 



After the rural treat of the first part of our journey we 

 were not sorry to leave this portion behind us. 



About ten yve sighted Buddeck, whose Bona pi dap ll: 

 never been sung but for Charles Dudley Warner. He had 

 introduced it and liolb stroked aud cutfed it, and wc must 

 see it; and so we stayed onr footsteps yvilhiu its quiet streets. 

 We Visited the Telegraph House, kept by David Duulop, 

 and there found a pile of mail awaiting us, which waseagerly 

 seized upon, as we had received no news from home for over 

 a week. 



While there we were shown Warner's room. We had seen 

 Washington's, Shakespeare's, Burns's, Napoleon's and those 

 of other wqrthiea before; now we gaze on Waruei's. Who, 

 hereafter, will be shown oursV As the steamer was late, it 

 afforded us a fine opportunity to wander idlv about this neat, 

 quaint little village, which boasts scarce GU0 souls, and 

 modestly overlooks that beautiful inland sea Bras d 'Or. 



i was charmed with its unpretentious aud quiet ways. 

 Fverythiug about looked tidy, its people easy and good*- 

 humored. Even the little stone jail with its rusty iron' bars 

 across the windows, seemed more like u relic of the past 



than a prison house, perhaps 

 looked like the remnant of a Oese 

 showed us over his house and paid 

 tending to us the freedom of tin 

 remarked, and it gives me much p 

 Ilia! he is the right kind of a land! 

 that his bouse presents the 

 place to tie up at. Good i 

 were apparent all over his house. 



We regretted not having a longer lease of lime at Bad- 

 deck. It's quiel streets, ns lazy : tmospheie, its subdued and 



empty, and 

 castle. Mr. Duulop 



very alien! ion in "ex- 

 ly," as our ex-mayor 

 lire in n lorn, to say 

 to fall in with, and 

 Of being an inviting 

 good beds, and clean linen 



unday-lilu 

 eha: 



i tin 



nde 



itgbtfultr 

 of New 



Na 



hotels and 



these dreamy, half asli 



quiet nooks' of New England, ■ 



tread. There is a restfuln 



lonely woodpulh which brings 



nearer, even, to himself. 



But the steamer i'roui Sydney lias rounded the point and 

 is coming to harbor, aud we follow the throng to the wharf 



ud presented 



Viler lall.s to rind in ihe 



ior( ami Saratoga. I love 

 ake sort of places, like the 

 here giddy feet forget lo 

 Li? ii' hi beach andiu the 

 one nearer to God, mid 



