entertained by the owner Harry Morris. He insisted on loading the canoe into a horse—drawn farm-wagon and hauling it across the

peninsula to the inner shore of St. Peter’s Harbour where it would be safer for the night.

Mr. Morris told me all about his private fishing pond and his “kingdom” of several hundred acres. With him I passed a very pleasant evening, enjoyed a good sleep in a comfortable bed, and awoke refreshed and ready to start the next stage of my voyage.

It was indeed a great relief to have behind me the rugged north- side part of my trip, tho’ I knew I was going to miss the “North- siders”: a more sincere, innocent, and indolent (in the best sense of

the word), and withal generous, people I doubt you shall find any- where on earth.

1X

After dinner, with Harry Morris waving me “a Dieu” l paddled slowly down St. Peter’s Bay to the exit enjoying all the while every part of the beautiful scenery.

Once more out in the Gulf I made good time to Savage Harbour. As I secured the Canoe and stepped out on shore, l was greeted by a very attractive woman, “Come right up to our cottage, l have your supper all ready." The Summer dwellers, I learned, had watched me coming from the (iulf in toward the wharf and she had anticipated my hunger. Mrs. Gerald Proctor’s “pre—cooked“ meal 1 greatly enjoyed, especially because it was savored with that extra flavor of anticipatory kindness.

That night I spent at the home of my brother Dr. Jim in Mt. Stewart and next morning got away to a fairly early start. Along the way I noticed besides the gulls a large white bird with black—tipped wings which I later identified as probably a Gannet.

As I turned into the mouth of Tracadie Bay I noticed a 2-masted Schooner coming in behind me. It was a hard race; I paddled my best, but the Schooner ‘won by a length’.

27