A small lonely island on Canada’s East coast ,
Is bound by myth, legend, folklore and ghosts.
For centuries, these mysteries have baffled both women and men,
On this beautiful rock in the mid-Atlantic, Cape Breton.

An undiscovered race,
The low grasslands they make their base.
Originating in the glens of Scotland,
Tales retold after being passed from hand to hand.
Commonly known as fairies,
Their existence has been noted for a number of centuries.
Fond of hoarding treasure,
To get, they’ll use any measure.
By night, alone, you should not leave your mare,
For, by morning, you may find braids in it’s mane so fair!

Homemade cures for both man and beast,
Are found among all cultures on the island, to say the least.
From simply passing a hand over the area of a toothache,
Or washing an injury with the waters of a sacred lake.

A common cure for a painful sprain,
A woman recites a rhyme over the injured limb to rid the sufferer of all his pain.
There are many other ways to rid someone of an ail.
One is to, into a tree, drive a nail
And recite “may you be there all pain and ache”
A sure cure this, in fact, does make.

For highlanders, harvest growth is brought with the increase of the moon.
During this time, you can expect the vegetables in the garden to sprout real soon.
A farmer never kills an animal for food when the moon is on the wane,
But a girl does not have her hair cut during any other time, for the speed of growth is enough to drive her insane!
Upon making a wish at the sight of the new moon, it will come true providing you make the sign of the cross.
Otherwise, the wish will only prove to be a total loss.

Meeting a funeral procession of someone who just died,
Is a sign of bad luck, especially for a young bride.
To go in the same direction as the funeral, it’s alright,
Just as long as it’s raining, and it’s late in the night.

Forerunners, to the second sight, a close ally,
Is the belief the spirits of the living rehearse the funeral preparations of a person who will soon die.
Very few Cape Breton Celts are brave enough to, after nightfall, walk in the center of a highway,
For, whether they will meet one of these phantom funeral processions, it’s hard to say.

At the community of Barrachois, around the Headlands of the lakes, Bras D’or,
Every evening, for one month, a phantom train glided through with a noisy roar.
No people onboard to be seen, every coach lighted,
This strange phenomenon, by everyone in the town, it was sighted.
A month after it started, it made no more daily visit.
This, after a young man, by a train, he was hit.

Among the seafaring people of this land, stories of pirates are told.
Where have they hidden their loot, the jewels, the coins, and the gold?
Mystery surrounds Oak Island, “The Money Pit”
Where treasure seekers are sure, one day, they will make the big hit.
“The Pit” has already claimed the lives of many men,
the death toll, since the late 1800’s, standing at ten.
But, the search continues on Oak Island for a treasure,
Compared to all others, it cannot measure.

All along this coast, it is believed treasure lies buried.
After pirates robbed ships in our waters, to the shore, they would go, their pillage they carried.
Under the cover of night,
They hid their stash out of sight.
For the unfortunate man who drew the smallest lot,
His fate could not be fought.
For he was to be killed and buried next to the treasure which would be guarded by the man’s ghost.
This was a great honor, for he who gained this post.
Pity the intruder who should try to dig for the wealth,
For he would suffer the rest of his days in ill health.

There are legends and traditions that go hand in hand with certain holidays.
Animals are said to talk among themselves in their stables on the eve of Christmas.
This is something the Acadians know they cam afford to miss.
For, if you venture into the stable to verify the truth due to curiosity getting the better of you,
It’s certain that you will die within the next year, at the most two.
The Celebration of the Dead, All Soul’s Day,
Requires that all homes light candles in the windows to help any lost soul find his way.
This is most important on All Souls Night,
For at dark, the spirits would have enough light.
After reading theses verses, I guess it’s safe to assume,
That by the way we Cape Bretoners seem to revolve everything around superstition and myth, to do anything else, where would we find the room?
This is not all true,
To hold together our heritage. These legends are simply the glue.