They were again out on the flood tide approaching Blomidon, Len, as usual, at the tiller and Winslow busy with his glass. The wind was fresh and the _Marie_ moved quickly into the shadow of that famous mountain of volcanic birth, the termination of the range of hills that make the backbone of Nova Scotia. The end of the mountain rose in front, lying along the Basin for several miles, and presenting a rugged and precipitous face over the greater part of its extent. Here and there the crown of forest extended down the face of the cliffs like a cape, while in other places the soil was red and stood out in sharp contrast to the black or darker portions of the trap formations. Occasionally were open spaces of farm land where a barn or house could be seen perched seemingly on the very edge of the bluff. Along the whole face of the shore line the mountain stood out in coves and bays curving backward for several miles. To the extreme right the rock terminated in a sharp point called Cape Split, pointing seaward into the waters of the Bay of Fundy. On the right could be seen the lower lands of the Annapolis Valley, resting in quiet beauty on the south of the mountain. On the extreme south, blue in the distance, rose the outline of the South Mountain, making the other wall of the valley. The whole scene lay under the glorious sky of an Acadian summer, a veritable--
"Tempe, vale of the gods, deep-couched amid woodland and woodland, All day drowsed with the sun, charm-drunken with moonlight at midnight, Walled from the world forever under a vapor of dreams,-- Hid by the shadows of dreams not found by the curious footstep, Sacred and secret forever, Tempe, vale of the gods."
"Well, Len," said Winslow, "you seem to know everything about this grand old Basin: what is the meaning of Blomidon?"
"Blow-me-down, sir," answered Len, laconically.
The boat was under light sail, as the wind was fresh, and the early tide was driving them along rapidly. Frequent gusts of wind seemed to sweep down upon them from the mountain, literally falling upon the sails. One of these gusts struck the boat just as Len answered Winslow's question. The effect was startling and strange as the squall whirled about them without a sign of its coming.