250 OVER ON THE ISLAND

all, there is one of the best bathing-beaches on the Island. Firm red sand extends pebbleless and safe to meet the incoming tide. Near by the wharf stands ready to receive back her fishing boats from the deep. In the daytime the view is not at all inspiring, but, in the evening, when the softly gathering shadows shade the general untidiness, then, then West Point is beautiful.

Out of this little harbour sailing vessels and motor- boats come and go. And out on the Strait sails one of the grandest ships afloat. It is seen from West Point and from the New Brunswick shore as well, generally before a storm. Eastward she goes, always eastward. And as this sailing ship cruises down the Strait her rigging and sails are all lighted up. She seems like a ship on fire as she glides slowly and surely down the Northumberland Strait. I did not believe it at first. I thought it was some fisherman’s yarn to scare youngsters off to bed, and I confided my sentiments apologetically to a fisherman.

“The phantom ship? Why, of course there’s a phantom ship. Why, I seen it!”

He seemed to imply that that settled the matter, which, of course, it did—for him.

“Where does it go?”

”Nowhere. It just sails down out of sight. ”

“Perhaps it is going to Valhalla carrying along the souls of departed buccaneers. I’ve been told that lots of people have dug for Captain Kidd’s treasure here.”

“Never thought of that before. Valhalla, did you say? Must tell them that. Maybe so. Maybe 50. One man around here found a kettle full of gold. ” ‘

“Wouldn’t that make Kidd’s spirit boil?”