Many of the smaller hotels give no outward indication that they are such, but, when found, are apt to prove more inviting than those of nobler bulk. Here, if one is damp, he may adjourn to the kitchen and hang his coat near the fire, talk to the cook (who is usually the landlady or a daughter of the house), and eat in his shirt sleeves if so minded. A nice, friendly lot they are—good, honest people, to whom it is a pleasure to be obliging. The only exception I met was at Pubnico, where the landlady tried to bite my head off, but I adopted General Washington’s famous Fabian policy and came out with a full stomach and serene conscience, but I still feel sorry for her old man.
At this season there is much talk of moose and moose hunting. Listen a moment to any group in hotel or on street corner and one is reasonably sure to learn how impossible it was for any man to have made a successful shot under the circumstances, or what a wonderfully clever shot it really was. The result guides the conversation.
Everywhere I found pleasant, kindly people, and came to the conclusion that the Nova Scotia coat of arms should consist of a smiling face and welcoming hand.
One particularly commendable feature of the country from the point of view of the man on foot is the scarcity of automobiles. They do have them, but they are few and far between. Outside of Yarmouth and Halifax I did not see one during my two weeks’ exploration. It is no trouble to dodge an ox cart, and one is never surprised into a sudden dash for the brush by an unexpected toot in the rear.
The roads are good dirt roads and, so far as my observation went, never deeply rutted, but I presume they are not what an automobile enthusiast would regard as even fair, and it is probable that there will be no change so long as the ox is universally used for hauling, as his feet with their thin shoes would hardly stand the unelastic stone road.
“Acadia” is spelled in different ways. I do not cling to any one spelling, but have rather endeavored to follow the spelling used at the time which happens to be under discussion in the narrative.
Samuel de Champlain has described the coast of my travels, but begins at Lahave and works west, and as I was bound to the east’ard he cannot well be followed through the course of the narrative; so, as his description is interesting, it is included here. He says:—
“Cape de la Héve, is a place where there is a bay, where are several islands covered with fir trees, and the main land with oaks, elms and birches. It is on the shore of Acadie. * * * Seven leagues from this, is another called le Port au mouton, where are two small rivers. The land is very stony, covered with underwood and bushes. There is a quantity of rabbits and much game on account of the ponds there. Going along the coast there is also a harbor very good for vessels, and the head of it a little river which runs from a distance inland, which I named the port of cape Negre, on account of a rock which at a distance resembles one, which is raised above the water near a cape that we passed the same day, four leagues from it and ten to port au mouton. This cape is very dangerous on account of the rocks around it. The coasts thus far are very low, covered with the same kind of wood as cape de la Héve, and the islands all full of game. Going further on we passed a night in Sable bay where vessels can lie at anchor without any fear of danger. Cape Sable, distant two full leagues from Sable bay, is also very dangerous for certain rocks and reefs lying out a mile almost to sea. Thence one goes on the isle aux cormorants, a league distant, so called on account of the infinite number there of these birds, with whose eggs we filled a cask, and from this island making westwardly about six leagues, crossing a bay which runs in two or three leagues to the northward, we meet several islands, two or three leagues to sea, which may contain some two others three leagues and others less according to my judgment. They are mostly very dangerous for large vessels to come close to on account of the great tides and rocks level with the water. These islands are filled with pine trees, firs, birches and aspens. A little further on are four others. In one there is so great a quantity of birds called tangueux, that they may be easily knocked down with a stick. In another there are seals. In two others there is such an abundance of birds of different kinds, that without having seen them could not be imagined, such as cormorants, ducks of three kinds, geese, marmettes, bustards, perroquets de mer, snipes, vultures, and other birds of prey, mauves, sea larks of two or three kinds, herons, goillants, curlews, sea gulls, divers, kites, appoils, crows, cranes, and other sorts, which make their nests there. I gave them the name of the Seal islands. They are distant from the main land or cape Sable four or five leagues. Thence we go on to a cape which I called the port Fourchu (Forked harbor) inasmuch as its figure is so, being five or six leagues distant from Seal islands. This harbor (Yarmouth?) is very good for vessels in its entrance but further up it is almost all dry at low tide with the exception of the course of a small river, all surrounded by meadows which renders the place very agreeable.”
Champlain again describes the coast from Lahave eastward:—