The Mariner of St Malo | Page 8

Island deserves the
honour. As the event occurred on July 1, some writers have tried to find
a fortunate coincidence in the landing of the discoverer of Canada on
its soil on the day that became, three hundred and thirty-three years
later, Dominion Day. But the coincidence is not striking. Cartier had
already touched Canadian soil at Brest, which is at the extreme end of
the Quebec coast, and on the Magdalen Islands.
Cartier's boats explored the northern end of prince Edward Island for
many miles. All that he saw delighted him. 'We went that day on shore,'
he wrote in his narrative, 'in four places, to see the goodly sweet and
smelling trees that were there. We found them to be cedars, yews, pines,
white elms, ash, willows, With many other sorts of trees to us unknown,
but without any fruit. The grounds where no wood is are very fair, and
all full of peason [peas], white and red gooseberries, strawberries,
blackberries, and wild corn, even like unto rye, which seemed to have
been sowed and ploughed. This country is of better temperature than
any other land that can be seen, and very hot. There are many thrushes,
stock-doves, and other birds. To be short, there wanteth nothing but
good harbours.'
On July 2, the ships, sailing on westward from the head of Prince
Edward Island, came in sight of the New Brunswick coast. They had
thus crossed Northumberland Strait, which separates the island from
the mainland. Cartier, however, supposed this to be merely a deep bay,
extending inland on his left, and named it the Bay of St Lunario. Before
him on the northern horizon was another headland, and to the left the
deep triangular bay known now as Miramichi. The shallowness of the
water and the low sunken aspect of the shore led him to decide, rightly,
that there was to be found here no passage to the west. It was his hope,
of course, that at some point on his path the shore might fold back and

disclose to him the westward passage to the fabled empires of the East.
The deep opening of the Chaleur Bay, which extended on the left hand
as the ships proceeded north, looked like such an opening. Hopes ran
high, and Cartier named the projecting horn which marks the southern
side of the mouth of the bay the Cape of Good Hope. Like Vasco da
Gama, when he rounded South Africa, Cartier now thought that he had
found the gateway of a new world. The cheery name has, however,
vanished from the map in favour of the less striking one of Point
Miscou.
Cartier sailed across the broad mouth of the bay to a point on the north
shore, now known as Port Daniel. Here his ships lay at anchor till July
12, in order that he might carry on, in boats, the exploration of the
shore.
On July 6, after hearing mass, the first boat with an exploring party set
forth and almost immediately fell in with a great number of savages
coming in canoes from the southern shore. In all there were some forty
or fifty canoes. The Indians, as they leaped ashore, shouted and made
signs to the French, and held up skins on sticks as if anxious to enter
into trade. But Cartier was in no mind to run the risk of closer contact
with so numerous a company of savages. The French would not
approach the fleet of canoes, and the savages, seeing this, began to
press in on the strangers. For a moment affairs looked threatening.
Cartier's boat was surrounded by seven canoes filled with painted,
gibbering savages. But the French had a formidable defence. A volley
of musket shots fired by the sailors over the heads of the Indians
dispersed the canoes in rapid flight. Finding, however, that no harm
was done by the strange thunder of the weapons, the canoes came
flocking back again, their occupants making a great noise and
gesticulating wildly. They were, however, nervous, and when, as they
came near, Cartier's men let off two muskets they were terrified; 'with
great haste they began to flee, and would no more follow us.' But the
next day after the boat had returned to the ships, the savages came near
to the anchorage, and some parties landed and traded together. The
Indians had with them furs which they offered gladly in exchange for
the knives and iron tools given them by the sailors. Cartier presented

them also with 'a red hat to give unto their captain.' The Indians seemed
delighted with the exchange. They danced about on the shore, went
through strange ceremonies in pantomime and threw seawater over
their heads. 'They gave us,' wrote Cartier, 'whatsoever they had, not
keeping anything, so