LENNOX ISLAND AND MICMACS 215

He waded ashore with a handful and broke them open with a stone.

“Mmmmmmmm!”

“ Have another?”

“Thanks.”

“Take the rest of them home with you. These are little ones, ” he pointed out.

I went off in Jean’s direction. He got a basket and searched for more.

We found a seat, a splendid one chiselled out of rock, on the shore. We took turns sitting there writing in our diaries. A few boats passed leisurely in front of us. Several Indians with baskets wandered up and down in the shallow water, hunting for the oysters which have made the bay famous.

” Did any one make the seat?” I inquired of one of them.

“No. Dat seat is dere a long time. I see it when I was little girl. Den it was up dere,” she told me, waving her hand toward the bank.

“What a polite and pleasant manner the Indians have,” I remarked to Jean.

“A little education goes a long way. ”

We returned to Main Street and sought out the schoolmaster for information.

“In the old days, ” he said, “the French kept their goats on an island and they called it Goat Island. Later, the English called it Ram Island. Since the English claimed it, however, they moved their goats to another island. This island, however, had many snakes and mosquitoes, so they said it was a bad island. The English thought they said Bird Island, and called it that. It has been that ever since.