[Illustration:  VIEW FROM POINTE AU PIC UP MURRAY BAY]

The sands of Nairne’s own life were running out.  As he looked around him he could see much to make his heart content.  He was never unmindful of the singular beauty of the place.  “I wish I could send you a landscape of this place,” he wrote to a friend, John Clark, in 1798; “Was you here your pencil might be employed in drawing a beautiful one which this Bay affords, as the views and different objects are remarkably various and entertaining.”  This is, no doubt, a mild account of the beauties of a very striking scene, but the 18th century had not developed our appreciation for nature.  Nairne tells of his delight in tramping through the woods, and over the mountains, with a gun on his shoulder.  The increase of settlement, and the burning of the woods, had driven the wild animals farther back into the wilderness, but partridges and water fowl were still abundant.  There was salmon fishing almost at his door and “Lake Nairne,” the present Grand Lac, had famous trout fishing.  The thick woods, which at his coming extended all round the bay, were now cleared away.  Much land had been enclosed and brought under cultivation and to do this had been a laborious and expensive task.  Now he had three farms of his own, each with a hundred acres of arable land and with proper buildings.  There was also a smaller farm for hay and pasture.  “I have been employed lately,” he writes in 1798, “making paths into our woods and marking the trees in straight lines thro’ tracts of pretty good land in order to encourage the young men to take lots of land.”  He tells how the successive ridges, representing, no doubt, different water levels in remote ages, were numbered.  In the highest, Number 7, the lakes are all situated; the elevated land was generally the best but as yet settlement was chiefly in Flats 1, 2, and 3.  His great aim had always been to get people on the land and he denounced obstacles put in their way.  “For God’s sake let them pitch away, and if they have not good titles give them better.”  The Manor House had become a warm and comfortable residence well finished and well furnished.  In 1801 Nairne wrote to his sister, with some natural exultation, that where he had at first found an untrodden wilderness were now order, neatness, good buildings, a garden and plenty of flowers, fruits and humming birds.  In the winter one might often say “O, it’s cold,” but means of warming oneself were always available.  His wife had proved always a useful helper and was indeed a motherly, practical woman, beloved by the people.  These came to pay their compliments on the first day of the year, when there was much drinking of whiskey and eating of cakes, all costing a pretty penny.  There were 100 young men in the parish composing a complete company of militia.  The children grew up so fast that he could not distinguish the half of them.