om we are indebted for the original edition of this
voyage, as we have elsewhere mentioned.--E.]

Between this point and Cape Douglas, the coast seemed to form a large
and deep bay; which, from some smoke that had been seen on Point
Banks, obtained the name of _Smokey Bay_.

At day-break, the next morning, being the 26th, having got to the
northward of the Barren Isles, we discovered more land, extending
from Cape Douglas to the north. It formed a chain of mountains of vast
height; one of which, far more conspicuous than the rest, was named
_Mount St Augustin_. The discovery of this land did not discourage
us, as it was supposed to be wholly unconnected with the land of Cape
Elizabeth. For, in a N.N.E. direction, the sight was unlimited by
every thing but the horizon. We also thought that there was a passage
to the N.W., between, Cape Douglas and Mount St Augustin. In short,
it was imagined, that the land on our larboard, to the N. of Cape
Douglas, was composed of a group of islands, disjoined by so many
channels, any one of which we might make use of according as the wind
should serve.

With these flattering ideas, having a fresh-gale at N.N.E., we stood
to the N.W. till eight o'clock, when we clearly saw, that what we had
taken for islands were summits of mountains, every where connected by
lower land, which the haziness of the horizon had prevented us from
seeing at a greater distance. This land was every where covered with
snow, from the tops of the hills down to the very sea-beach; and had
every other appearance of being part of a great continent. I was now
fully persuaded that I should find no passage by this inlet; and my
persevering in the search of it here, was more to satisfy other people
than to confirm my own opinion.

At this time Mount St Augustin bore N., 40 W., three or four
leagues distant. This mountain is of a conical figure, and of very
considerable height; but it remains undetermined whether it be an
island or part of the continent. Finding that nothing could be done
to the W., we tacked, and stood over to Cape Elizabeth, under which
we fetched at half-past five in the afternoon. On the N. side of Cape
Elizabeth, between it and a lofty promontory, named Cape Bede,[4] is a
bay, in the bottom of which there appeared to be two snug harbours. We
stood well into this bay, where we might have anchored in twenty-three
fathoms water; but as I had no such view, we tacked and stood to the
westward, with