The cliff ends abrupt, broken off short, and beyond this arise from the water several giant fragments of rock, the first of which, shaped like an irregular pyramid, rivals the cliff itself in height, and is surrounded by other rocky fragments, all of which form a colossal group, whose aggregated effect never fails to overawe the mind of the spectator.  Such is Cape Split, the terminus of Cape Blomidon, on the side of the Bay of Fundy.  Over its shaggy summits now fluttered hundreds of sea-gulls; round its black base the waves foamed and thundered, while the swift tide poured between the interstices of the rugged rocks.

“Behind that thar rock,” said Captain Corbet, pointing to Cape Split,” is a place they call Scott’s Bay.  Perhaps some of you have heard tell of it.”

“I have a faint recollection of such a place,” said Bart.  “Scott’s Bay, do you call it?  Yes, that must be the place that I’ve heard of; and is it behind this cape?”

“It’s a bay that runs up thar,” said the captain.  “We’ll see it soon arter we get further down.  It’s a fishin and ship-buildin place.  They catch a dreadful lot of shad thar sometimes.”

Swiftly the Antelope passed on, hurried on by the tide, and no longer feeling much of the wind; swiftly she passed by the cliffs, and by the cape, and onward by the sloping shores, till at length the broad bosom of the Bay of Fundy extended before their eyes.  Here the wind ceased altogether, the water was smooth and calm, but the tide still swept them along, and the shores on each side receded, until at length they were fairly in the bay.  Here, on one side, the coast of Nova Scotia spread away, until it faded from view in the distance, while on the other side the coast of New Brunswick extended.  Between the schooner and this latter coast a long cape projected, while immediately in front arose a lofty island of rock, whose summit was crowned with trees.

“What island is that?” asked Tom.

“That,” said Captain Corbet, “is Isle o’ Holt.”

“I think I’ve heard it called Ile Haute,” said Bart.

“All the same,” said Captain Corbet, “ony I believe it was named after the man that diskivered it fust, an his name was Holt.”

“But it’s a French name,” said Tom; “Ile Haute means high island.”

“Wal, mebbe he was a Frenchman,” said Captain Corbet.  “I won’t argufy—­I dare say he was.  There used to be a heap o’ Frenchmen about these parts, afore we got red of ’em.”

“It’s a black, gloomy, dismal, and wretched-looking place,” said Tom, after some minutes of silent survey.

II.

First Sight of a Place destined to be better known.—­A Fog Mill.—­
Navigation without Wind.—­Fishing.—­Boarding.—­Under Arrest.—­
Captain Corbet defiant.—­The Revenue Officials frowned down.—­
Corbet triumphant.