river that curves in a bow." About 15 miles above Hopewell Cape the river's straight sides draw together, then veer abruptly. The lower stratum of the inrush is checked, but the crest of the water forges on, forming a watery ridge that carries around the bend and sweeps past Moncton. The wave parapet is most impressive at high noon on a spring day when the moon is full. Under such conditions it reaches a height of five or six feet. But visitors who betake themselves to Bend View, where there is a little park off the main street of Moncton, below the Post Office, usually see a moving wall not more than two or three feet high, and sometimes disappointingly less. The bore exhausts itself below the railroad bridge. Quite as interesting as this natural curiosity is the rapidity with which a vale of slippery, sandy clay is transformed into a river of sea water. The return of the flood, whose escape has left red desolation in its wake, is announced by a far-away murmur that deepens to a roar as a line of white wheels 'round the curve at the head of the invading column. In an incredibly short time disheartened ships straighten on their keels, the water steals up to the plimpsails and erases the glaring ugliness of denuded banks. The rise and fall of the tide approximates 30 feet at Moncton, though spring tides may attain twice this height.
The river before the city of Bordeaux, France,
