“From leaving cape de la Héve until you reach Sesambre (Sambro), which is an island so called by some Mallouins, fifteen leagues distant from La Héve, there are to be found on the way a quantity of islands, which we have named “the Martyrs” on account of some Frenchmen killed by the Indians. These islands are in general cul de sacs and bays, in one of which there is a river called Sainte Margueritte, seven leagues distant from Sesambre. The islands and shores are full of pines, firs, birches, and other inferior timber. The catch of fish there is abundant, and so is the quantity of birds. From Sesambre we passed a very safe bay (Chebucto?), containing seven or eight leagues, where there are no islands in the route except at the head of it, where there is a small river.”
THE SOUTH COAST OF NOVA SCOTIA
LAND OF ROMANCE AND MYSTERY
YARMOUTH TO BARRINGTON.
I have a very proper cousin in the West who, when it was announced to a waiting world that my precious person was to be intrusted to the great deep, hastily sent on the following incident in the life of one who had preceded me:
The facts in the case were about as follows—Mr. Smith was to make his first trip abroad and, having heard much concerning that grievous malady of the sea which is usually a matter for ribald jest on the part of those kind friends not afflicted, he concluded to consult a physician. This learned gentleman advised that, “For a few days before setting out, eat heartily of everything you enjoy; eat abundantly.” This did not quite agree with his preconceived notions, and he concluded to see another doctor, who advised, “For a few days before you go eat sparingly, almost starve yourself.” Wholly at sea now, he called in a third man of medicine, who stated, “Both are right; it depends entirely on whether you wish to discard from strength or weakness.” I went to neither extreme myself and, the sea being calm, suffered no harm.
The only real fault I have to find with this trip is that too much was attempted. Yarmouth to Halifax does not look like a great distance on the map, and consequently I looked up the story of that section, to discover so many items of interest strewn along the deep indentations of this rugged coast that it seemed highly improper to allow any to pass by unobserved. But while a straight line between the two points is not appalling, to follow the coast line is much like attempting a trip from the Hudson at Forty-second street to the opposite point on the East River by way of the Battery.
I doubt the wisdom of one in my frame of mind spending an entire day in one town—it was the open road that beckoned. But a day had been set apart for Yarmouth, and as this particular one was never intended for such a pleasure exertion as mine, owing to its moist condition, it seems probable that I had planned better than I knew.
The history of Yarmouth appears to have been rather uneventful, but the public library contains an interesting relic of prehistoric times in a runic stone discovered on the west side of the harbor about 1815 by a Doctor Fletcher, and which the antiquarians after much labor have translated as “Harko’s son addressed the men.” The records show that in 1007 the Norsemen made an expedition along this coast, and one Harki is mentioned therein, and this and a somewhat similar stone found in the same general locality in 1897 are supposed to commemorate some important event of that trip. Nothing more is known. The stones when discovered were lying face down in the mud; but for this the action of the elements would have effaced the lettering during the nine hundred years that have passed since the work was done.
I called on J. Bond Gray, Secretary of the Tourist Committee of the Yarmouth Board of Trade, with whom some previous correspondence had been held, and on his advice covered the first nineteen miles, to Argyle, by rail. Mr. Gray was courteous and pleasant, but in this he but follows the custom of the land where courtesy is as much a matter of course as is the glacial boulder. While on this subject I cannot overlook A. L. Nickerson, station agent. I unfolded to him my great and consuming desire for a timetable, as I expected to fall back on the railroad with more or less frequency. He had none, but appreciating the situation, said he would do what he could, and during the day he telegraphed to headquarters in the expectation of receiving a copy. That he was not successful was no fault of his, and as a last resort he made a suggestion that enabled me to secure a copy at another point. This proved to be the almost universal spirit of the people throughout the excursion.