48 OVER ON THE ISLAND

Grim stockade! The word took my fancy. Surely Fort la Joye could never have been grim! Fort Amherst may have been.

It must have been a pretty sight with the boats anchored near the shore; wigwams standing erect in the shelter of the fort; papooses playing with the dogs and making the forest echo with their childish prattle.

Far in the west the sun shone down—shone down on the ruined glory of old France. It disappeared, but its light remained glowing over the sky and water. So it shone for the eyes of the French. So it shone for the English. Still it shines over the fort as if reflecting the drama that once was enacted there. Across the harbour the first city light twinkled on the water. Far above it a solitary star winked mischievously.

How very different are people’s impressions of the same places! As different as the people themselves. Different aims. Different characters. Different minds. So it was and still is with the people who visit Prince Edward Island . . .

“All the said land, ” said Cartier, “is low and flat and the fairest that may possibly be seen, and full of beautiful trees and meadows

To Charles Morris, the soil was suitable only for grazing, “it being in general poor and hungry.”

According to Major Robert Rogers, the Island ”was justly stiled the granary of Canada. ”

To the illustrious William Cobbett it was ” a rascally heap of sand, rock, and swamp . . . in the horrible Gulf of St. Lawrence.”

“It is a place of too little consequence to be dwelt upon in this history, ” remarked J. H. Wynne, in 1770.

Just different opinions, that’s all.

Far off I could hear the touring Smiths. Mr. Smith