Morning journal and courier., 1888-09-01

you differently Cape Breton Island and the
 eastern extremities of Nova Scotia bare their
 bosoms to receive this great Atlantic tide
 wave of science, if any such exists. The
 Bay of Fundy faces precisely in the opposite direction. What it does receive is portion of the great Gulf stream which, debouching from the solid walls of our curved eastern and northeastern shores, is brought up with
 overcoming sudden checkings and chuck ings against the rocky walls of this great Bay of Fundy pocket, and is lifted and massed to it's enormous height and volume by the mighty and irresistible force of the on~coming current, which has gsined added velocity and power through it's debouchment from the granite coasts of Massachusetts and Maine.
 At the eastern end of Fundy we also saw and heard those strange creatures of these mighty currents, the 'ftide-bores." Many of the rivers entering at little coves and bays are practically no rivers at all when the tide Is out. They present the appearance of . deep, sinuous, shining ravine of 6 bright
 mahogany color, owing to the peculiar na-
 ture of the soil, with hollowed sides and
 with nothing more than blue rivulet wimp-
 ling along through low central hollow.
 Some present their red mouth squarely to
 the sea. Others have before them long
 reaches of reddish alluvial as level as placid
 water, or gently slope to far shore-edge, or again are patched here and there with the
 bright blue of water left standing in prettily shaped hollows and swales. So great is the volume and height of the tide forced into the bay seni-daily that it's action is not, as on ordinary coasts, almost impercephble.
 It comes as if lifted bodily from the sea and flung against the shore. Seeking escape from impossible barriers, the waters dart into these open-mouthed vents and go whist ling and bowling up stream for miles, gi- gantic hollow wave thence 'fbore'1 in advance as if to engulf the land. These phenomena vary. In some streams the loftiest tide-bore is at the front and if followed by bores of
 decreasing size and velocity. At other points they follow each other at regular in-
 tervals, and apparently of about equal vol-
 ume. But in some instances the first is
 small, spumy, spiteful; the sesoad will fol-
 low with increased height and power, as if driving the first before it; the third is tre-
 mendo1s hollow roll of such volume that the spump iridescence is changed to dark and somber coloring; and this will be followed
 by lesser waves until the tide is at it's, full.
 But all that are large enough to have formed, from the force behind and the resistance in front, the spherical or "bereo form, give forth roarings and belowings of the most hideous character; are often heard for miles
 
 venturesome hogs and cattle; and by many of the Iowly and ignorant waterside folk are regarded with supeTstitious awe.
 If one has the time and disposition for
 lettering alongshore or among eoastwise towns Nova Scotia furnishes surpassing op-
 portunity for interest and pleasure: The
 peninsula with its coves, bays and river
 mouths has a tremendous length of coast line, and there is not mile of it which is without beauty or grandeur, historic or poet-
 ic interest. Beginning at the north shore
 along Cumberland strait, sweeping to the
 east around Cape Breton Island, following the south shore past Halifax and the old Dutch region of Lunenburg, rounding the southwest point at Cape Sable, following the shore-lines of St. MarY's bay, the Annapolis basin, the north shore Bay of Fundy coast, the basin of Minas shores and thence north, in and cut of Cumberland and Chepody bays, there is no doubt but that the venture some summer sailor and dreamer could choose from among two thousand miles of enchanting marine scenery for exultaut per sonaI delight and the most rapturous adula- tion. On the whole, however, the experi- enced traveller might suffer disappointment. It is over estimated by some patriotic na- tives; overdrawn by the idlers and writers of an hour. It's greatest enohantment lies in its pleasant accessibility, as with our noble Maine coast, and it's being at the same time comparatively unfrequented by the hordes who soon make such newly discovered de- lights unbearable to the true lover of untar- nished simplicity and grandeur in nature. As it now is, the fascination in lis part of old Acadia is in it's oldness, newness, slow ness, 1uaintness, wildness and in most part the demure and simple unconsciousness on the part of the natives of their contiguity to the tremendous activities so near them to the west on our own shores.
 For instance, nearly three centuries of age l. ] thousand miles of coast-line this glaring newness is strangely impressed in the fact that not two score cities or settlements could be seen from leagues distance at sea. With exceptions of bright and pleasant local ities like the Annapolis valley, this holds true of the entire surface area of Nova Sco- tia What there is which is not so old as to look older than old England in architecture and agriculture is so new as to suggest the prtmeVal wilderness and the pioneer period of development. The slowness and conser- vatism of all classes, with rare exceptions and these of the most recent awakening, are even a marvel beside the sleepy towns of the Hudson Dutch, or the somnolent villages of the Delaware and Chesapeake. The quaint- ness of everything is only approached, not equalled, in our dear old Salem and Marble head. In proportion to it's area Nova Sco tis, since her discovery and settlement in the early part of the sixteenth century, has hAQ6 ICES pTOkr6SS Auu T6LdIub LuOI0 WUO reaches of mountain and wilderness than any other state, province or country this side of the Atlantic, although nearly every acre is valuable for agricultural or mineral devel- opment. But the honest simplicity of many of her people, who for generations have titled the same fields in content, or sought their mesger harvests upon the ses-for a surprising portion of the population are
 humble fishermen-is something worth com ing long way to study and know. This is most marked and winsome along St. Marys bay among the coastwlse settlements south to, and little beyond, Cape Sable. At St. Mary's bay particularly and just below, as well as here and there for short distance into the interior, are the true Aoadians who make such tender and pathetic pictures in "EYangeline." They are descended from thase who once lived at Grand Pre-, escaping by flight the brutal eviction of 1755, and, af- ter years of indesoribable hardship and suf- fering, finally drifted together here in little communities. They are all both fishermen and farmers. say all, for women and chil- dren share alike with men the dangers and delights of the sea, and again alike, labor in the fields, with the hocks and in the home. Normandy is here with all it's winsomeness of peasant life and ways, in royal piety, in steadfast friendship, in surpassing dlial and domestic affections and placid, changeless, labor won content.
 St. Mary's bay, Long Island, the splendid Pent passage between Long Island and Dig by neck, Digby cut passage between Fundy and Annapolis basin, the latter grand sheet of water itself, and the old city of Annapo' ! lis Royal at it's head, are all deservedly ia | nous for their splendid scenery and deeply l interesting historical associations and sur roundings. For nearly two centuries afte1 De Monts and Poutrincourt in 1894 sailed 1 through Digby cut up the splendid basin and built their little forts at the head, naming | the spot Port Royal, the struggles of Eng I land and France for American possession were continued. The place was almost | countless times captured and recaptured, de- | vastated and rebuilt; and the lives of more men were sacrificed at this point than any other place on American soil most luminoui I for struggle and daring from that time tc | this So that from the old fortress rampaYtl