148 OVER ON THE ISLAND

Perhaps he has left his contented spirit here. . . Perhaps it is only the intriguing loveliness of the high, Atlantic- -swept point . . . Perhaps it is the siren music of the ever-sobbing pines, but all who visit this place come away quietly and thoughtfully, as if from a cathedral service, with a new expression of peace.

Along the shores of Colville Bay, Jean and I wandered, surprised and delighted by the constant beauty of the coast. Here, too, the Indians used to wander, and left as mementoes of their visits, axes, spears, arrow points, rude pots made of stone, barbed fish bones. They must have been travellers, these Micmacs. The arrow heads found here were made of Labrador feldspar, agates, hornstone and jasper. The feldspar is the same as that found in Labrador. The agates resemble those of the Bay of Fundy, and as none of these minerals are found on the Island, it is supposed that these lithe travellers must have brought them. They certainly ventured far in those frail canoes.

2

From a distance, the long, low line of Souris seems to be a busy little port. It bustles its schooners off to fish, and it welcomes the boat which runs from this port to the Magdalen Islands. Its waves splash the bathers who linger contentedly on its long, sandy beaches.

’Twas not always thus! Even the name “Souris” suggests the unhappiness and complete discouragement

which once swept over this enterprising village. Mice!

Grave old plodders, gay young friskers, Fathers, mothers, uncles, cousins,