taste. The driver said that a few weeks before, when he came this
way, it was solid ground where this well now opened, and that a large
beech-tree stood there. When he returned next day, he found this
hole full of water, as we saw it, and the large tree had sunk in it.
The size of the hole seemed to be determined by the reach of the
roots of the tree. The tree had so entirely disappeared, that he
could not with a long pole touch its top. Since then the water had
neither subsided nor overflowed. The ground about was compact
gravel. We tried sounding the hole with poles, but could make
nothing of it. The water seemed to have no outlet nor inlet; at
least, it did not rise or fall. Why should the solid hill give way
at this place, and swallow up a tree? and if the water had any
connection with the lake, two hundred feet below and at some distance
away, why didn't the water run out? Why should the unscientific
traveler have a thing of this kind thrown in his way? The driver did
not know.

This phenomenon made us a little suspicious of the foundations of
this island which is already invaded by the jealous ocean, and is
anchored to the continent only by the cable.

The drive became more charming as the sun went down, and we saw the
hills grow purple beyond the Bras d'Or. The road wound around lovely
coves and across low promontories, giving us new beauties at every
turn. Before dark we had crossed the Middle River and the Big
Baddeck, on long wooden bridges, which straggled over sluggish waters
and long reaches of marsh, upon which Mary might have been sent to
call the cattle home. These bridges were shaky and wanted a plank at
intervals, but they are in keeping with the enterprise of the
country. As dusk came on, we crossed the last hill, and were bowling