From Mrs. Sark I learned that he had become a teacher by 
     
     attending St. Dunstan’s and had been a crack football player there. 
     
     A finer-looking man I have never seen nor a more hospitable man 
     
     have I met. Fine parents and lovely children, and to one little boy, 
     
     Jackie, I was particularly attracted. 
     
    
   
   
    
     Mrs. Sark gave me a bed that night in the house of the non- 
     
     resident priest and next morning fed me a hearty breakfast; the taste 
     
     of the crisp bacon I still recall. 
     
    
   
   
    
     Arriving back at the Canoe before eight the next morning, I 
     
     discovered about two dozen large Malpeque oysters in the bow, a 
     
     present from my friend John Labobe who, the Indian children told 
     
     me, had been up at daylight to get them for me and who, being called 
     
     away somewhere, left with them his regrets at not being present to 
     
     say farewell. 
     
    
   
   
    
     From Lennox Island Tota and I, after a call on John England 
     
     and Charlie MacKay, students of mine at S.D.U., passed through 
     
     the Narrows past Hardy’s Channel and Cavendish Inlet. I had chosen 
     
     the “inside passage” as more scenic. Somewhere about the middle of 
     
     the Narrows I noticed quite close a mother duck with 22 little ones (I 
     
     counted them) swimming along behind her all seemingly quite 
     
     unafraid. The only explanation I could think of was that she must 
     
     have adopted some other mother duck’s children, perhaps a family 
     
     of “orphans”. Here and there along the inner shore, I also observed 
     
     a number of large granite boulders, left there, doubtless, after the 
     
     passing of some glacier which had once covered the Gulf of St. 
     
     Lawrence region. 
     
    
   
   
    
     Emerging from the narrows into Cascumpec Bay I headed in the 
     
     general direction of Alberton, quickly passing along the way a large 
     
     whale-like creature which disappeared before I could see it clearly. 
     
    
   
   
    
     The day slipping by, I bent hurriedly to the paddle arriving at 
     
     the wharf at Alberton South shortly before dark. As I walked along 
     
     the road leading to the Town itself, I passed two ragged urchins 
     
     sitting on a doorstep. “Oh, look at the poor man”, I overheard one 
     
     say to the other. “He’s got no shoes” I wonder if a more disreputable- 
     
     looking character ever arrived in Alberton out of nowhere. 
     
    
   
   
    
     Overnight I enjoyed the hospitality of my cousin Vicki Burke, 
     
     leaving my canoe loaded with two or three hundred pounds of more 
     
    
   
   
    
     31