Immediately beside him, where he was standing, the easy slope went back for a hundred yards or so, covered with short, wild grass, with here and there a stunted tree.  Turning round, he saw the land rising by a steep acclivity towards the heights which bordered on the sea in such tremendous cliffs.  Over the heights, and along the crest of those cliffs, were flying great flocks of sea-gulls, which kept up one incessant chorus of harsh, discordant screams.  In front of him spread out a broad sheet of water, on the opposite side of which arose a lofty line of coast.  Into this there penetrated a long strait, beyond which he could see broad waters and distant shores—­a bay within a bay, approached by this strait.  On each side of the strait were lofty, towering cliffs; and on one side, in particular, the cliffs were perpendicular, and ran on in a long and unbroken wall.  The extremity of the cliff nearest him was marked by a gigantic mass of broken rock, detached from the main land, and standing alone in awful grandeur.

What place was this?  Was this the mouth of the Petitcodiac?  Was that broad bay a river?  Was he still dreaming, or what did it all mean?  And that gigantic fragment severed from a cliff, which thus stood guard at the entrance of a long strait, what was that?  Could it be possible?  Was there indeed any other broken cape, or could it be possible that this was Cape Split?

He hurried up the slope, and on reaching the top, saw that it descended on the other side towards the water.  This water was a broad sheet, which extended for seven or eight miles, and was terminated by a lofty coast that extended down the bay as far as the eye could reach.  One comprehensive glance was sufficient.  He saw it all, and understood it all.  It was not the mouth of the Petitcodiac River.  It was the entrance to the Basin of Minas that lay before him.  There lay the great landmarks, seen under new aspects, it is true, yet now sufficiently distinguishable.  There was the Nova Scotia coast.  In yonder hollow was Scott’s Bay.  That giant rock was Cape Split.  The long channel was the Strait of Minas, and the cliffs opposite were Cape d’Or and Cape Chignecto.

And now the recognition of all these places brought to him a great and sudden shock.

For what was this place on which he stood?  Was it any part of the main land?

It was not.

He looked around.

It was an island.

He saw its lofty cliffs, its wooded crest, its flocks of sea-gulls, its sloping east end, where he stood, running down to a low point.  He had seen them all at a distance before; and now that he stood here, he recognized all.

He was on Ile Haute!

The moment that he recognized this startling fact, he thought of his boat.  He hurried to the beach.  The tide was very low.  To his immense relief he found the fastening of the boat secure, and he turned away at once, without any further examination, to think over his situation, and consider the best plan for reaching the main land.  Making a comfortable seat for himself on the sail, he sat down, and drawing out the box, he took some biscuit.  Then feeling thirsty, he went off in search of fresh water.  Before he had walked many paces he found a brook.