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Winter Advancing— Attempts to Escape 141 Vll. The Forest Abandoned— Return to Fredericton— Homeward ^ , -„ I il a- PREFACE. -•o^ A YOUNG emigrant w'.o bad passed seven years in the AustraJian bush, again, after eleven weeks in England «pent witb bis family, crossed the ocean in search of a home. That brief visit had made him unwilling to put again so great a distance between himself and his family as a return to AustraJia would involve ; and his thoughts turned to emigration in some nearer region. It was then suggested to bim by some who were interested in coloniztt on, to break gronnd in a yet unexplored part of New Brunswick, the district on the banks of the Tobique river. The question to be solved was whether the climate would not be too severe for permanent occupation. He put this to the VI Preface, strongest possible test, by establishing himself for two months (beginning in the middle of October) in a wig- wam amid the depths of the forest and on the banks of the river, where he remained utterly cut ofif from human intercourse, and unable even to leave his self-chosen prison till half-way through December, when the Tobique was so completely frozen over as to make for him a road back to the settled part of the country. This enterprise was so unusual, and considered so perilous, that few, when he started, expected to see him again ; and great was the wonder and curiosity, not only in the rough settlements of New Brunswick, but in the salons of Fredericton (of which latter the Journal says nothing) on his return. He came to the conclusion, as far as his own experi- ence enabled him to judge, that the chances of suc- cess were not in the emigrant's favour. But he recorded his impressions of his voyage out there, of his short sojourn in St. John and Fredericton, and of his two months' solitude in a forest wigwam, in letters and a diary full of interest to those for whom they were designed— selections from which, though after the lapse vu Preface, of fifteen years, may not be without attraction for the general reader. The writer of these records, which were not intended for publication, is no more. The reader, it is hoped, will be indulgent to the uncorrected style of one whose career had been, from boyhood, one of physical toil and active enterprise. Endowed with unusual powers of endurance, possessed of ardour and energy in executing any purpose he had chosen, a close and unwearied observer of nature, and voluntarily trained in boyhood to active labour and privation, he was a born adventurer and explorer ; and had life been longer and more propitious to him, he might, perhaps, have taken his place amongst the successful pioneers of civilization in the waste. This was not to be ; his few added years of life were doomed to pass in struggles of a different kind, and all he has left are such slight and hasty sketches of what he had seen, and partly achieved, as these which we now present to the public. MSP I • JOURNAL OP TWO lONTHS ON THE TOBIQUE IN 1851. CHAPTER I. Letter I.-VOYAGE TO NEW BKUNSWICK. My dearest — ""' ''''' ''' '''' ~' ^"^^ '''^' ^''^' Like that illustrious traveller Lord Bateman, I shipped myself all aboard of a ship, Some foreign country for to see, and once more found myself a wanderer over the world though scarce three months had elapsed since my return' from a seven years' banishment from England. Last July I believed myself tied for many a year to come to the bush of Australia ; last February I was in the grasp w 2 Journal of Two Months on the Tohique. of the storms of Cape Horn ; now I am entering on the North Atlantic, hound for " Yankee town." " Sech is life." While sitting at my desk, in our snug little after- cahin, I can hear the hoarse rustling of the water, as a fine easterly hreeze urges our ship through the slowly heaving waves of St. George's Channel ; the land is vanishing, and now we are fairly at sea. And, heing so, I may as well begin what I hope may be the means of beguiling the tedium of many an uneventful hour in the five or six weeks of ocean before us — that oft-told tale — that oldest of stories — a journal at sea. But old as the tale may be, it yet has the experience of ages to prove that it is incumbent on all voyagers who can write to inflict their sea mares' -nests on those who live at home — like the Ancient Mariner who after all was but a tremendous embodiment, a fearful impersonation, of ** Sea Stories." Though the ocean is no novelty to me, I am revisit- ing it under novel circumstances, in a Yankee ship, with a Yankee crew and Yankee captain, built in a fashion more prevalent, I believe, among American ships than English, with a round-house instead of a poop, and which fashion I think no improvement. She is the Voyage to New Bmwviek. 3 bound from Liverpool to Boston, at 850 tons-a fine ship with very fair accommodation ; in fact, the general appearance of things is satisfactorv. I am the only passenger, and the loneliness of . solitary passen-^er at the beginning of a voyage is perhaps as complete! .f he were at the North Pole. Then how intensely real becomes the parting from his friends, those friends some of whom perhaps he may see no more ; all their last words come floating to him, and he wonders that of his own will he should have forsaken what now he holds the greatest happiness that life can yield. 26th.~lt seems to me, dear, that I have contrived to cram a good deal of life into my few years of existence, almost too much I sometimes think, for at times the load of recollection seems almost more than I can bear And now by this sudden flight of mine across the Atlantic, am I about greatly to swell the already unruly river of memories. I had always rather a fancy for putting myself into what seemed a queer position ; few however, have appeared to me more so than the one I have now succeeded in getting into - suddenly tearing myself from England and a thousand delights which I have not known for seven years, and which I have not tasted again for as much as three months, with 1—2 I — -1 4 Journal of Two Months on the Tohique. the purpose, at least with the prospect, of going through discomfort in a strange land 3,000 miles away. Where are you all now, as I sit in my Yankee ship ? Whatever supposition I make only presents to me a picture which places my own position in anything but a favourable light, sitting as I do all alone in the round-house cabin, while through the open door comes the rustling bound of the wind sweeping through the rigging, and the sigh of the sea under the side, the ship dancing all the time in a way which reminds me of the game "Neighbour, neighbour, I come to torment you" — "What with?" " With an up and a down." Whales mingled with porpoises came down alongside in the evening, and looked at us like fishes of the world. Sunday, ^Ith. — The captain tells me that a passenger he took to New Orleans kept a diary, for, having been in a TCievcdiwtecl house, he could not be easy unless he was writing, " so that," says Captain W , with an appearance of awe, "you could see all his thoughts — that is," correcting himself, " his wife could, for I guess it was shut to me and to every one else." He had a splendid black barndoor cock which died the other day, and which in his lamentations over it, he insisted on calling (with the almost over-refinement of his yoyage to New Brinmcick. 5 country-he is a New Englander) "a splendid rooster " As I could not muster up courage to call it so myself on so short a notice, and was afraid of offending his delicacy >f I called it as the Britishers are wont, I got out of the difficulty by speaking of him as the "bird." He improves on acquaintance, like most Yankees that I have met ; he is very reserved and even morose to strangers, but now we are better acquainted, we get on very well and comfortably. He tells yarns at meals and "" *e after-cabin with grim sociabihty, guessing ener- getically at things he knows perfectly well, and makin. sepulchral jokes. The chief mate has also got over thi Bour surliness which his counfymen seem to think necessary towards strangers, and condescends to talk with me during his watch. It would be vain were I attempt to give you an Idea of the kicking, jumping, and smashing during last night's gale. Sleep was out of the question-now was the ship standing on her head, now on her hind le-^s then seeming to disappear from us on one side, then' on the other, while every minute the heavj- smash of a sea, as it came tumbling against her bows, shook her to her centre. It is still blowing hard irom N. (which is a fair wind), but being more abeam we feel the sea less 6 Journal of Ttvo Months on the Tohique. i! These northerly gales are very glorious, with their clear sky and sparkling sea — the ocean with its intense hlue beneath an unclouded sun can- only be compared to a vast azure satin cloth covered thickly with silver spangles, each and all of which gleam with a snowy brightness. The sea during a stormy gale, beneath a clear sky and a bright sun, is probably one of Nature's most exquisite sights. Yesterday morning, a man whom nobody knew (or professed to know) made his appearance on deck, emerging ghost-like from the forehold, where he had been planted since we left Liverpool. ** Must feed him," says the skipper : *' but I guess he'll have to work some for it." I was talking to him (the ca;itain) about Livei*pool ; he quite agrees with me in what I say of the horrors of its populace, but says if I were to represent to a Liverpool man the kind of people he is living amongst, the filthiest sediment of that foiil mixture, a civilized community, he would laugh at me, and utterly refuse to believe it — which is but natural and proper. As for the smoke, he guesses what I saw wasn't a circumstance to what it is in winter. The black nigger of a steward is sitting in his pantry opposite, and looking at me, not blushing like Voyaffe to New Brunswick. 7 , but grinning in a way that makes me feel ugly, I tell you. I just made an attempt to draw him out, of Bheer spite, intending to paint him blacker than he is • but it involved too much gazing on his provoking! grmning, ugly, monkified caricature of a face. 9 P.M.-Some prospect of a better night than the last ; the wind has moderated to a trifling breeze, but the ship is still wallowing about in the swell a gale leaves. It is immediately after a storm that you can best appreciate the height of the ridges of water with their tops unbroken travelling along in dogged sullen grandeur. Two things have an unpleasant aspect, and may make the voyage very disagreeable. The first is a row with the second mate's watch, who, being told to " turn to " this afternoon, said they " didn't like " to. So the mate told the captain, and the captain went on deck. He sent the mate forward to order the refractory watch up that he might lecture them, muttering at the same time Homething about putting the spokesman in irons. So he waited, and I with him, in full hope of hearing a specimen of Yankee eloquence, which, in an excited Yankee, is apt to be very rich. But the men would not come to our vicious little chief, so he had to «o 8 Journal of Two Months on the Tobiqur. to them, and in a few minutes I was summoned forwards by the mate to be witness of what passed. When I got to the scene of action, the captain told me he wanted me to hear how he had asked the men three times to go to work, and be witness that they had refused, '' which," he told them, in an explanatory tone, "is mutiny; d'ye hear? mutiny on the high seas;" and then, that I might hear him ask them again, he made his fourth request, which he did by clenching his fist, shaking it at them, and shouting to them, "Why the bad place don't you come and work ? " wishing a bad end to the affair universally, and stating " he'd be shooting some of them presently." After a pause of a few seconds, during which none of them stirred, he turned to me and his mates with a benignant air, and begged us to observe that he had asked them four times. So we walked away. For this the men may get three months or more in gaol. In the meantime, if it leads to nothing worse on the voyage, I may be bothered by being subpoenaed in Boston, especially if more violent scenes ensue. But the second and worse prospect is that the ship has apparently sprung a leak — in fact, has — makes nearly a foot of water in an hour, and requires constant Voyage to New Brunswick, 9 pumping. She is a new ship, but has, in dry dock at Liverpool, been badly caulked and coppered so as to require pumping every four hours at starting; but during last night's gale and the violent pitching and straining she went through, there can be but little doubt she has started something. This is an unpleasant look-out with 3,000 miles of a stormy ocean before us. While pacing the deck this evening, I have been amusing myself by building romances on this founda- tion with the long boat (big enough to hold us all comfortably) before my eyes. I saw the whole thing at a glance; another violent storm— carpenter sounds the well ; with a face white as a ghost, he announces " six feet of water in the hold." We get out the boat without loss of time, for four weeks are tossed about on the wild and stormy ocean on half a biscuit a day, till all our provisions are gone ; then in silence we cast wolfish glances at each other, till the most desperate speaks:— ''My lads, one must die to save the rest." The fatal lot is drawn by a fat, chubby little fellow (on whom I mean to have my eye henceforth), when just as with manly resignation he prepares to meet the death- blow, the cry '' a sail ! " is raised. At the joyful sound, 10 Journal of Two Months on the Tobiqiic, some, overpowered by their emotions, can only stare in stupid bilonce ; others embrace with alternate tears and frantic laughter; while others, whose reason has given way under the sudden shock, blend pious ejaculations with fearful blasphemies. The ship which takes us up is bound to the coast of Africa ; and now the whole story is plain : of course we are wrecked, and of course made prisoners by the Arabs, who march us over burning sands till all my companions one by one drop dead. I alone survive the horrors of that journey. I am brought to a Moorish town and offered for sale (being of course well spit upon as a Nazarene by the women), when the sultan or sheik, hearing of the Feringhee, who are all well known to be clever doctors, I am ordered, on pain of death, to heal his favourite daughter who is ill. Her malady I soon find to be that she has fallen in love with the interesting Christian captive. I write a charm, the words being "the frog he would a- wooing go," which satisfies the old gentleman, while I admi- nister such good medicine to the gentle Zuleika's dis- tracted mind, that the old cove, in an ecstasy of gratitude, gives her to me as a wife if I'll only renounce my religion, which, " as it's only a faith of I Voyage to New Bnmsicick, H mine, I'm no ways particlder about,"* and do without a moment's hesitation. Scene changes to twelve years after. I have risen to the highest honours, but a yearning for my native land comes over me. I cut the old cove's throat, and with Ayesha, my thirteenth and favourite wife behind me on my beloved mare, the *'Maid of the Desert," I am soon beyond pursuit. I gain the coast, steal a boat, having first knocked the owner's brains out, put to sea, and am taken by a French ship, whose captain, conquered by Ayesha's beauty, becomes very annoying. But I have not been a Moslem for nothing: I bid Ayesha speak him fair, invite him to supper in our cabin, where she promises him a little delicacy as a specimen of the Moorish cuisine, and which I carefully season with a Moorish poison. The captain astonishes his crew by dying of nothing at all : but as they begin to suspect, I take the liberty of serving them all in the same way. But Ayesha not approving of all these summary proceedings, upbraids me for a monster; whereupon " there is but one course left to me," and * See Household Words for an account of a tipsy prosecutor, who, having been robbed of his watch, says, " It wasn't my watch, it was a frez of my ; I'm no ways partickler about it." I: ! 12 Journal of Two Months on the Tohique. wreathing my hand, &c., I stick her as you would stick a pig, get ashore somehow, and become either a misanthrope or a devout Christian, I am not sure which. And all this is to come from my visit to C ! for to that I helieve may he attributed my finding myself on board a Icak;^ Yankee ship. Joking cipart, I am not quite easy, nor are the captain and mates. Wednesday J SOth. — I have been looking forward through the day to my quiet evening's yarn with you, dearest, without which, in fact, I should hardly know how to get through the weary hours of darkness before I turn in. Truly, on a night like this, it would not be hard to grow sad with thinking of the absent and the past. If I look to my right, down in the dark abyss of the lower cabin gleams a miserable lamp like a star in a stormy sky, or a star at the bottom of a well. Another horrid thing, by whose light I am writing, shows me dimly the ugly bulkheads of the state-room on each side of the cuddy, and through the door I hear the hoarse murmuring rustling wind in the rigging, and, to heighten the gloominess of the picture, reflect that the ship has to be pumped out every hour, and that it is blowing a steady double-reefed-topsail Voyage to New Prumtwick. 18 Lil pile rij^'lit in our teoth, with a fofifgy, drizzling, uu- broiton ruin. It is nour ten, the captain as usual lying on his berth (he has not been in bed yet), not a sound l)ut the dismal moan of the winds, the creaking timber, and the sudden smashing thumps of the sea. I have been having a yarn with the mate this evening about many things; amongst others — and not for the first time — which boat would be the safest for us if we have to take to them. And then he told me how he had once been four days in a ])oat under the same circumstances. This is not inspiriting work. Moreover, he told me of those dire explosions (there go the pumps again) of the Mississippi steamers which , occurred when he was at New Orleans, in which two hundred people were destroyed. The force of the ex- plosion was such, that one of the boilers was flung nearly half a mile. You may understand then how, not bodies, but rather fragments of bodies, were picked up in the streets of the town, so crushed and ground up by the steam as to be actually shovellrd into the carts ; yet, hideous to relate, actually with life and speech left. He seemed almost overpowered at the mere recollection of what he had seen. He has also been in three hurricanes, which seem 14 Joarnal of Two Months on the Tohlque. also to have left a lasting impression on his memor} . He says, while they lasted, nothing could be seen even, nor a thing done, nor a word heard, nor any sound save that of one unending peal of thunder, — the noise of the wind. In describing a railway capsize, he told me how they climbed one of the weather-sides of the cars. When a ship is thrown on her beam-ends, of course you know the upper is the weather-side. This chief mate improves on acquaintance ; I like him much. " I have two fine little boys at home ; I have not seen them for two years; by being a sailor and so long from home, I lose all their little winning ways ; a sailor had just as well not be married." I pitied him when I heard him so complain. I like the captain, too, very much ; besides, it is a teetotal ship, to all intents and purposes, which is another good point. Slst. — The wind has at last dwindled away to nearly a dead calm, but the heavy rolling sea is still rocking the poor ship about in a helpless, clumsy way, making the useless sails flap and bang miserably against the mast; a grey dusky sky overhead, a gloomy grey ocean around ; — such a combination of discomforts. Mother will pity me when she hears that I have no no Voyage to New Brunsivick. 15 :;7' "i"'"'"'" -'-«"'- -„o. disagreeable. - the blankets are Cean. I do ^oUike the incessant shower tobacco juice wbicb rains on the deck in a way w, h „.„„,, ^^^ ^^ ^^^^^^^^^ ^^ ^^^ ^^^^_ ^^ ^^ AS lor tbe mutinous cvpu- n>o „ i • ous cie«, the captain means to have anot er tnal of strength with them, being much dis- satisfied ,vith his own quietness on the first occasion. This IS a prospect I don't relish, as there will not improbably be violence. I have had a long yarn with my favourite the chief »ate, who, from one or two thing, he has said, lam eompele, to believe has been in a slaver. He speaks of the trade with much disgust as being so dirty. Also he went some years ago to Smyrna at a time when the' Archipelago was ful, of pirates. Their own ship was well anned having guns double-shotted and grape over that. 00 a boat sailed after tliPm c„ n ^ . iiiem,— suddenly showing herself -aer the lee of an island.-sixty men or so o^n bo: ^!' 'em and followed close, and refused to answe when hailed. So the captain pointed a .uarter-gun at them, fired, and, as the lanky, sepulchral mate sai^ with a.nm chuckle, '-sent tliewhole charge slap in among them, certainly killed half on 'em.- They saw no more of them. 16 Journal of Two Months on the Tohique, N ' I am inclined to think more and more favourably of New Brunswick from Johnstone's representation of it ; and, though at present I am fully prepared to visit Lake Superior, I suspect both judgment and inclination will be in favour of the Tobique or the Restigonche, of which J. speaks highly, and which probably will be as much benefited by the railway as the Tobique. But his account of the enormous quantity of traffic between the lake and western districts and the Atlantic ports, a large proportion of which would inevitably be diverted into the Saint Lawrence by the removal of a few dif- ficulties and objections, is highly corroborative of what Mr. N has told me. The perusal of Johnstone not only gives me general information, or rather an enlarge- ment of ideas, on agriculture, but is even raising in me a little enthusiasm on the subject, and makes me eager to try my hand on it for its own sake. I am very dubious of being able to make anything out of the intolerably stooimi details of a voyage. The mate is a windfall — if I yarned with the men I might get some amusement, but that I carefully avoid, as every passenger ought. An occasional civil remark is well and proper, but yarning don't do. AVell, I believe I have got to the end of what I have collected and pre- f'«W<; to New Brunswick. 17 pared for you, during the (]av_an,l » ■■»'«::r:;;::t:::,:;;'-r* «!. . ^' "*^^' i^yster OILS trpn ""' "^7""»" "'- -*-' element, .pend their C on one wliose dan-ers if „„f „ rate m.r. , • '' ^' ^'■''''^'•' "«' '»' any >ate, n,ore obvious than those of the land It • -™;«"e thin, that n.e„ .honh, ehoo. To ;J^^^ >andandhveontheever.so„ndin«n,ain. " Anoust Ut.-A heavy ,ea rolhn. on ns fron. tl T' r "^^^ '^"^ " -'-' "- ^•'- ^e: : ship rolls and slides Ji hn . -«ctory .anner. whiie th C j V-, "^' "-'^''>. -d hanging the .a.s h,e t 1 ^ "I ;-">■ weather, J„iey, ,hn.y weather-and a Iht "- threatens storm. "'^ '"'^'^^^^ With the second mate I have in.f i i , 18 Journal of Two Months on the Tohique. it 1 I admirably adapted for its production, the farmer, with that degree of prudence and industry which is necessary for success in every profession, could hardly fail of rapidly realizing a fortune. In fact, people are finding that out already, and farming in California is now attracting much attention ; but^ as yet, the field is open for thousands. The only fear is the failure of the gold mines. My own judgment and inclination would lead me there to-morrow, as far as I depend on the information I at present possess. And yet I have always said that the magnificent edifice of Californian prosperity is built on a foundation, and with materials the most unworthy to be trusted — dependent entirely on a mining foundation, grubbing for gold in buri'ows like rabbits, which at present they find in bushels, but which may any day suddenly dis- appear — and then the whole Californian community disperses and vanishes like a soap-bubble. And such a community !— the materials of this shining edifice con- sisting almost entirely of the most worthless, the most morally hideous of the whole human race. Had I been ignorant of this before, what I have this night heard would have shown it to me. And does this large and enormously wealthy and marvellously prospering and increasing community contribute its share to the welfare Il Voyage to New Brunswick, 19 fare of the world generally ? Certainly it absorbs manu- factures, but is it a refuge for the poor but indus- trious classes of old countries, like the North American colonies, or those in the Southern Ocean ? or is it a nursery for a race of men which may be a great and good nation worthy ol its position on the earth ? Is it possible that such a people can spring from such a stock ? such a people as may hereafter be found on the plains of Australia or in the forests of Canada ? And it may be asked, can a Californian tiller of the soil take as high a moral stand as the Australian squatter, or the Canadian farmer, whose life, it is true, is spent in the acquisition of the gold, but whose occupation finds employment and reward for the industry of hundreds, while the Californian farmer, not yielding like them his humble contribution to the general welfaro of his race, lives but to feed a huge congi-egation of burrowing scoundrels ? These questions might be asked ; I have asked them of myself often enough, but I do not say that they suggest the correct view of the case, or a just pol-economical view, or that it is my own view I think I could get more gold there than in New Brunswick, although society in New Brunswick may stand on a more secure basis. I think I see myself 2-2 20 Journal of Two Months on the Tohique. trudging across the plain of Texas, with a pickaxe on my shoulder, on my way to the diggings. An ugly old brute of an Indian is shooting at me from behind a tree, I having a carpet bag in my hand which the Indian wants to get at. [Here follows in the manuscript a rough sketch of the supposed scene.] Tell my father that the needle of my aneroid vibrates to and fro with the motion of the ship, just as the mercury of the barometer rises and falls from the same cause. I can hardly conceive how so little a difference in elevation can so greatly affect an instru- ment whose oscillations amount, when the sea is very heavy, to 0'5. Johnstone's account of the treatment of strangers, by the New Brunswickers, and of their notions of hospitality, is exceedingly disgusting to an Australian accustomed to the hearty welcome he is sure of, at nine stations out of ten, and who would think the Last Day at hand, if the most vmvilling entertainer ever dreamed of expecting payment for the night's lodging he gave. Those who are not fond of guests turn them away, but never charge for accommodation. August 2nd. — It's of no use mincing the matter; this is blackguard weather — sickening — worser than on Voyage to Kew Bnmsivkk. 21 anytWnk. The same unvarying fog, or rather only varied by occasional downpours of rain, and, to com- Plete the matter, all but „ dead calm. A brig stole Quietly out of the dark mysterious depths of the fog and passed close by us-she said she was from Kay Chaleur (in New Brunswick), bound to Lancaster. She seemed not gradually rising from the horizon, but as It were, created by our side. This calm, inexor- aWe fog is making us all lose our tempers. The captain makes grim jokes and humbugs the steward (•' Portuguese nigger); the chief mate gives snappish answers, and assumes a demoniac expression, while tl- second sits in a corner sail-making, and grumblin. to himself in a low, continual growl as only a sailor can grumble. The meek chief mate has confided to me a touching little mcident in his mild, amiable life. He has been a great deal with Spaniards, sailing with them, &c " One day," quietly drawled he in his soliloquizing manner, " one of them came near stabbing me- tned to stab me in the heart, but the knife missed and struck a bone below the ribs," which he showed' " ^^"' "^ *'^'" ^» ? " «"« I. " Oh, we quarrelled." And what did you do? drown him?" "Knocked 22 Journal of Two Months on the Tohlque. his brains out," still in the same quiet drawl, and added, after a pause, " with a bit o' iron." So we passed on from that trifle, like men of the world, to other matters, • We have just had an introduction to the great whales, which are often to be met with in these lati- tudes, and of whom five or six showed themselves yesterday close alongside, keeping up with us for some time — gi-eat, solemn, helpless-looking monsters, lumbering along with a lazy, undulating motion, and now and then showing their ugly square faces from the side of a wave, while they spirt a fountain of spray into the air with a deep gasping sigh, absolutely majestic in their extreme clumsiness. August Qth. — I have let my log lie by for a few days from a scarcity of events, and from finding it had already gone ahead too much. Now events are coming a little too quick, and of a kind to make me wish myself out of the ship as soon as may be. In the first place, we don't get on a bit. Since yesterday a strong south breeze, with a wild electric sky and constantly falling barometer, made us expect a gale, and from royals we came down to single-reefed top- sails, and then at 9 p.m. appearances were such that Voyage to Xcw Bninsifick. 23 the captain furled everything but the three close- reefed topsails and foretop staysails. Lightnin;. (lashed incessantly, gusts of wind wandered over the sea as though they knew not where to go. We expected a heavy gale, but have since had calms and squalls, lying to still under a mere nothing of canvas, still in the same wearying uncertainty of what is in store for us. A still falling barometer and the stormiest appearances, deter us from making sail ; the wind keeps shifting about, the sky all day, and especially at sunset, assuming appearances of wild and terrible beauty. So the day has passed-every breeze as it reached us supposed to be the van of the expected gale -till night has come without a solution of the problem. A huge rolling sea flings us helplessly about and astonishes everybody. Again, to add to our trouble, the men have begun to stab each other, and there on the floor of the cabin lies the black steward on his face, groaning with the agony of a terrible wound in the back inflicted by the cook, a mere lad and a mete savage. Wlien I came on deck this morning I heard high words in the galley (or cooking place); presently out came the steward, and in an instant foUowcd the cook, I 24 Journal of Two Months on the Tohlqiw. who flung a largo saucepan at Lim with sufficient force to have killed him on the spot had it struck him. Then the steward seized him in his arms, and (being a very powerful man) flung him down like a child. But the captain parted them then, and sent the steward aft. However, he heing out of sight, they were soon at it again, and as I stood on the poop, after some fierce dispute about a bucketful of plates, I saw the cook thrust headforemost out of the galley, with ihe steward over him, who forth- with began to pound his head on the deck. A crowd gathered, and an ill-looking scoundrel, who had hefore been helping the cook to abuse the steward, walked up quietly with his pale, wicked face, and began kicking the negro in the face. He was right to part them, but not so. Then the negro knocked off" the cook, dashed at the sailor, and a great scuffle ensued, during which the cook was in the galley. The sailor got the negro . down, and while he held him, out rushed the cook, and I saw him strike him as he lay (but I saw no knife in his hand then). The second mate came up and parted them ; I walked forward io help him, and saw much blood about the negro, who to our expostu- at Ich rro 10 ip id Voyage to New BntnawicJc, 25 latious, replied that the cook had 'Mvuiled" him, — " he kill me now, hut I shall kill him hefore I die," — and then, with his hideous, pale hlack skin, he calmly went looking ahout for some weapon where- with to revenge the death ho expected on "that hoy," as he called him. The latter stood the while, hran- dishing an ugly hutcher's or " sheath " knife, yelling and screaming like a madman. The contrast was fearful hetween the frenzied rage of the one and the cool concentrated hatred and murderous aspect of the other, who kept repeating in a low voice, his intention of killing ** that boy before I die," while his eyes wan- dered everywhere in search of a weapon. We in the meanwhile tried to get him up, but could not do anything with him except keep him from the cook till a more powerful agent than us began to work, — the deep stab in his back. For suddenly he turned paler than ever, and said in a voice of terror to the second mate, ** Oh, Sir, I die ! I die now ! " But it was not death, but faintness — so great that all further ven- geance he had to postpone. So we got him to the cabin, and I went on the poop to the captain, who knew not what was going on, but who instantly came down. Then we sewed up his wound in ignorance of its depth, and 26 Journal of Two Months on the Tohiquc. •* El :> |ii 'iJ Ijiid him on liis face, where ho hus lain ever since, his only consolation heing his determination, which ho con- tinually mutters in English and Portuguese, to murder or **matar" ** that hoy," if he does not die himself, which he occasionally believes he will. This belief seems only to distress him as robbing him of his revenge. While we were dressing his wounds, I observed the cook pattering about and wiping up blood, which I then saw was flowing from a gash in his foot, which he affirms the steward gave him first. This I am not confident of. Indeed, I think he got it accidentally, and that the story the men tell, in which the negro is made the first to use the knife, is got up to screen the white man. For there is a feeling about Americans, natural enough, but which had not occurred to me till the second mate explained it to mc, that a nigger should never be allowed to beat a white. ''Why, if I saw him whipping a white man, I'd knock his brains out myself; the steward would stand a bad chance in this ship," &c. Had the steward stabbed the cook, he would probably have been killed by the crew at once. The captain has none of these feelings ; he is a humane, reasonable man, and one whom I like very much. In consequence of all this slaughtering work, the ir ke Voyage to New Brinmi'ick, 27 deck is stained with splashes of bk)od, and the cal)in floor is slii)j)ery as f^lass with the same abomination, in spite of all the washiu*?. If the steward dies (as I expect), the cook will he in a scrape. I^ut you may ima«,'ine I am not well pleased to find myself in such company. One of the officers has been first mate in a slaver, t'other has been with Spaniards and foreign ships so much, that I suspect more than I would say about what he has been ; the steward himself once belonged to a slaver. I must say, however, that the officers and I think "st of the crew are shocked at this morning's work. he whole business angers and disgusts me : the bad feeling against the niggers, the sight of the poor wretch who may be dying, and whose only solace in his sufferings is the hope of murdering (and kill him he will if he re- covers) — the whole piece of atrocity is, as a Port Phillip neighbour of ours would say, "very annoying." And what do you think was the beginning of this ? Some ham the steward was cutting for our breakfast ! The cook asked him why he cut it in that way ? The other replied that it was no business of his. The cause of the steward's obstinacy in carrying on the quarrel was probably to be found in a mug of whiskey we found in his pantry, which he had stolen from a keg kept for 28 Journal of Two Months on the Tohiquc. ■ medical uses. He did not seem at all intoxicated, but probably the spirit gave additional violence to his temper. The chief mate is used to this kind of thing in New Orleans, besides having been knifed himself; still, he disapproves of it. August 11th. — The gale we were expecting when I last wrote never came at all ; the barometer and the minacious clouds were but crying *'wolf." A stift' breeze from N.W. set all right, and for the last few days we have had nothing but light head winds, beau- tiful summer weather, varied by a sharp squall now and then, smooth water and ceaseless grumbling. The men kept tumbling down and hurting themselves, or getting ill or something, to the captain's infinite disgust. The head winds have sent us too fast, — we are nearly in the latitude of the Azores, and, I suppose, not 200 miles from it. I have just finished copying a manifest of the ship's cargo, which I did willingly for the captain, both for the sake of the occupation and because he is a very good fellow. The steward is, I am glad to say, recovering ; but a white man in his predicament would have been food for fishes ere now. The refractory watch have come back to their duty, — so that row is over. Voyage to New Brunswick. 29 Last night, in his usual low-voiced matter-of-fact way of telling things, our dear chief mate told me stories of tiger, bear, and wild-boar shootings, which he had had in Cuba and elsewhere ; and of a wild young English " lord " on board his ship, who used to put him in mind of Lord Byron, who travelled all about America in search of adventures, and whose chief ambition was to fight a grizzly bear. Another rather exciting event disturbed the even current of his young life at nineteen or twenty-his career was within an ace of being closed by-the gallows, for a murder he never committed. We have seen some gulfweed, and so with that and flying-fish, and the hot sun and the squalls, I fancy t»y^olf in the tropics again. But we are evidently in for a long voyage. We still have to pump every hour, but it is our old story now, and we have left off talkin-i of the boats. Au, reste. I get on very comfortably-thi grub is good enough for the likes of me; I have books -the captain tells me funny stories, and there is nothing to grumble at, except the weather,, the bit of murdering, growlings, &e. Aagusf 12^;,._This morning at 3 h. 15 m. I woke with a notion that something unusual was going on • a very few seconds sufficed to explain that hoarse ro'ar 30 Jonrnal of Two Months on the Tohiquc. t i r *( '- K mingled with shouting, and flappings, and rattlings, and that little hole over-head, which proved to he the port- hole, usually hy my side. A furious storm had assailed us, and a sudden rending crash for a moment made me fear we had lost a topmast, when the loud cry of, ** Let go the topsail halyards!" relieved me from that anxiety. To remain in hed any longer was not to be thought of ; so I jumped into my clothes and looked out on deck, and such a sight and such a sound you never saw or heard. The storm was rushing and howling over us like legions of insane lions, or rather it was as though a Niagara of wind was dashing against us. The gusts seemed too solid for air ; they came with the resistless weight of a torrent of water, bearing the poor ship down before its mighty onset, till she looked like a helpless woman cowering beiieath the rage of her drunken husband. As long as she could be kept right before the wind there was not much to fear, but, with such a press of canvas, maintopgallant sail over single-reefed topsails, it was no easy matter to steer her steadily. At last a sweep to windward — a sickening lurch as the blast caught her abeam, soon brought our captain out from his lair, when, instead of adding to the already scarce endurable strain on the spars, as he had before been Vo!/affe to New Brmmnck. sj promising himself to do, he had only time to get in his topgallant sail, and two more reefs in his topsails, before the gale seemed suddenly to wake up to its work with a fury I had not before seen equalled, horrible in its grandeur-a storm run mad-a delirious tempest-such .t seemed to me. I used to imagine I had had experi- ence in the wrath of the wind, but this was an exhibi- tion of ,ts frenzy quite novel to me. I could not stand without holding on by the rigging, before blasts which came down on us with a vengeful violence-a crushing weight as though they would grind the ship to powder The yelling of the gale through the blocks, the hoarse' roaring in the shrouds and rigging might be con.pared to the war-whoop of a whole nation of Red Indian., amo.g their ow. stormtost forests. It was very dark, but through the darkness gleamed the snowy manes of tl.e huge waves, as they came topphng after us hke mountains torn up from their roots. We could none of us quiet ourselves to the idea of urnmg .n till the early morning, and even then, when 1 1 ought the gale had done its w-orst, it increased til, as I lay in my cot, I felt the poor shin f.,;,.I„ • • ' . , I "' ^"'P ti'irly quiver in the mighty grasp of the tempest. 32 Journal of Two Months on the Tohiqiie. CHAPTER II. Letter II.— FROM BOSTON TO ST. JOHN.— DIARY— FROM ST. JOHN TO FREDERICTON. St. John, \Oth September, 1851. I MUST refer to my note-book for an account of my proceedings. My notes state that on a day of heat which the Bostonians borci with as little content as myself, I left their roasting city per steamer Achnlral, bound for East Port in the state of Maine, where another boat from St. John would meet us. I must tell you though, to gain your good- will for my friend the lanky, sepulchral chief mate of the , of the cordially friendly grasp of the hand and his '' God bless you," and wishes that I might have a pleasant journey, showing me that by our long yarns in his evening watches on deck I had gained a friend. American steamers are not a bit like those j'ou are used to ; they are more like Noah's ark, only the beasts you meet in them are much queerer than he From Boston to St. John. gg o mnei, „. «h,ch were assomllea fifty mouti,, Y«'^- "ith a Xe. b™.„.,. e,i.opal e er! 1 ' »■'- account of the ...eaUural prospect. 72 rrovmcc wore very discouragin.. Ho sn„l, , tl^e extreme rigour of tl,e • T ^ ™™^'' •>' "«om 01 the winter, and said it was an 7 ^--'y -w, tho,,,, twenty years a. it ^ ' '*' ''^'" "° ''PPi'-tion of agricultural science r ;""^™* its evil in«„.„,,. ,,,,^„ ^ ^ - -'t .u,,.t be owin, to that exhaustion Of tls!; a-ohnstoue spea.s of, he said that it was dispro S^^ t rrr ""'"' '™^ ^^'^^ --'^''-''- ■^e sajs that the mineral rpc^nnv. -^iderahle. instauein: .I r. "^ ^ ^"""^ ^^ St John . ■ , • """""tain not very far from 't "^"'''' '^ »'™-t composed of the richest iron «>•«. which has hitherto been left nnf , that want of energy disnl , , *''™"^"' ^o--vhichiss"m::::^';r"'-^--^^^^ -'-- «'^ ^"-.ee Of all ^J^ r'''^ "' '"« pccuuti^e daring, confining. 8 h 34 Journal of Two Months on the Tohique. the investments of the capitalists to those recommended hy safety, and certainty alone. I shall try to get some more definite information ahout the iron, and if possible visit the spot ; for the railway, which is, you know, a determined affair, and which it is believed will rapidly be carried on towards, ay, and to the Pacific, will be in itself a market for the metal besides the United States, which alone would perhaps absorb all that New Brunswick could produce, and so those who open a mine there may find they have done a first-rate thing. dth SeiHemher. — Great as was the ..discomfort of last night, still it was equalled by the amusement it afforded. I had heard something about complaining of the plight they found themselves ii>, in that boat, when they turned in ; and accordingly determined to avoid all risks, I resigned my berth, and, in American fashion, possessed myself of a mattress, of which, in these steamers, there are plenty of spare ones, placed it on the deck in one of the passages, and wrapped in my great coat, prepared to pass, as I hoped, a quiet night, after a long talk with one of the pleasantest of my new friends, though a genuine Yankee. It was now past eleven, but ere twelve I found I was woefully deceived in iny idea that I had eluded the foe. After From Boston to St, John, 35 ncled some ssible LOW, a apidly rill be Jnited I that open a ling, fort of ent it ling of , when avoid ericau iich, in I placed )ed in quiet test of [t was )efully After a cool argument with myself on the matter, I " guessed" I might as well get up as lie there catching bugs. According to another American fashion I must tell that close to me, were a gentleman and his wife, who occupied two other mattresses, and with whom I after- wards set up an acquaintance. In these steamers the passengers either go to the berth at night or scatter them- selves on mattresses where they like; my two neigh- bours certainly retained their clothes ; but I was highly amused, though rather aghast, when I beheld an Irish family (of well-dressed people too) consisting of the parents and two fine young women, with solemn deliberation begin systematically to *' peel." I have seen funny things in my travels, but few funnier than this. Yet doubtless it was done in the simplicity of their hearts, and I was in their eyes of no more con- sequence than the pig who had at home been the companion of their slumbers. In an American boat you see one meets with very mixed society, a most heterogeneous assemblage ; were the Duke of Wel- lington here he might find himself sitting beside Sam Slick's father, or the lowest Irish savage of a peasant. Well, as I walked away from the battle-field, I met an- other victim in the person of a wealthy Boston merchant, 3—2 86 Journal of Two Months on the Tobique. owner of 130,000 acres of land in Maine, whither ho was going with four or five friends to hunt and fish, and from which he clears 8,000 dols., or about 1,G00/. per annum by cutting lumber — another good specimen of the Yankee. I began discussing our misfortune with him, and as we walked and talked, one by one from the depths of the cabin appeared fugitive after fugitive, till the midnight, or now morning moon, shone on a whole army of martyrs. Nothing was heard but "bit me," ''bug," ''bug." Yet through all was maintained a good temper, which it would be absurd to expect in a boat-load of Englishmen under the circum- stances. Instead of growls and curses, jokes and laughter changed what would have been a sheer nui- sance to a very good bit of fun, especially when an "indignation meeting" was got up in the cabin to express the opinion of the passengers about the state of things. When the paper written for the purpose had been read to the meeting, concluding with a motion that it should be represented to the captain, a fat old fellow voted that any one opposing that motion be forthwith shown into the berth he had vacated, which would soon bring him to a right way of thinldng, he guessed. As the morning advanced, however, one 1 I I-'rom Jloxlon to St. John. •57 '•y one they yiCad to impenous nature, and. hi.lin. -ay m cW ana eon.,., loft ,„e on the open deck - -y own neighbou, with whom I had a long talk, .n econ.eof.,,iehIn.deh™o„ttoheaScotch fr ka.«.n.te..inSt..Tohn.:tho.ad,,hiswifo,had usta„.,vedatNewYo..kf,.o.L,,,..,„„,^,,,^^^^^^ .•J", he- to New B..„n.swiek. I forgot to to., that TT' "°" '"''"'"' -^- -»!'■« "> -treating from «'e™y. H- I found agreeable and eonversahle and Sentleman y, she w« o „• • , both T f , '""'''' ^''"''"^ '''«^'«.- of r : """°' ''''^"'°"- ' '">"-' ehiefl, with have got on favourable terms with him We r.n elose along the coast for two or three hour. r:Tr'"''"^'^°'-*'"'»^-"-onth •^wi, ana 1 mimf eoir t must say I was very much struck, even 2 o , ^ ^"''"^' ""'' ^™nt np to the lankee barracks, where I „„v alkmg about dressed in badly made clothes, of coarse Mue cloth which looker! i;t. , " looked like a gaol uniform, but which was m fact the uniform of the U 9 '"^ "■ S- aray-and these -rn Hi 88 Journal of Ttvo Months on the Tohique, mere boys were soldiers. Nine iu ten are Irish, I am assured — the Yankee being too good a judge to risk his life for a trifle. Moreover the army in America is hated with the whole heart, as being composed of the idlest and most worthless rascals of the country. You have probably seen some mention of the Cuba disturbances in the papers — the massacre of the American volunteers has created a good deal of excitement in the Southern States, but elsewhere the general feeling is ** served 'em right." Their inducement was not even so respectable as sympathy with the liberty-seeking insurgents, but merely a hankering after the rich acres of the land — they even held bonds from Lopez securing them portions of land — which doubtless greatly increased the exaspera- tion of the government party against the meddling foreigners And now we are off again for St. John's in the Creole, swiftly paddling through intricate channels, between rocky and beautiful islands — it is like sailing over a lake, so smooth is the water, while land surrounds us on all sides. While walking m East Port I saw a female with a bearing and majesty of figure sufficiently imposing for a Spanish donna, or a bandit's bride at least. Her hair fell in rich masses, From Boston to St, John* 30 am his ,ted lest lavc Qces .eers hern I 'em ;lahle , but -they US of ipera- dling black and glossy, down her neck and shoulders, from under a low-crowned and most becoming lady's black hat — her costume was highly picturesque, but I can only describe it by suggesting that she had put on two gowns, and had then cut the upper one full two feet shorter than the under, — altogether a more striking figure I never saw ; she was an Indian squaw, and very ugly. These Indians are quite civilized, clean and neat in their dress, the men clothing themselves like whites, the squaws in a variety of picturesque costumes, such as I have described. I was much impressed by the great improvement in the personal appearance of our female passengers, after we had left some Yankees, and received a number of Maine and New Brunswick people. In Boston I was as much struck by the utter absence of personal attraction in all the females I saw, as I was now with its frequency and eminence of degree. Here were the fine figure, fresh complexion, and winning expression which distinguishes the Anglo-Saxon race, and which is entirely absent among the haggard, care-worn, pallid, ugly faces of Massachusetts, The ancient pine forests stretch down to the water's edge, >oiothe the hills with an impenetrable scrub through which in every direction fierce bush fires are spreading, I III Ilii ! 40 Journal of Two MohUih on the Tohique, fillii)<,' the air, as in Australia, with a thick smoky haze which renders the most distant country very indistinct. I liavc just encountered and ilod from a charming flirtation with a charming lady whose appearance had convinced me before tliat she at le ras a lady in the true sense of the word, and not as many of the occupants of the ca])in doubtless were — Irish servant-girls dressed in the finery which is so loved in America. I had so admired her looks, that I was very glad to see her walk past with a stool in her hand, when of course I sprang forward, begging permission to carry it for her. The calm self-possession with whi'di she received this act of "devilish politeness" sho that such atten- tions were a matter of course with her, confirmed my opinion of her position in society, while the saucy -jolly tone with which she said, " I'll trouble you to carry it a little further, though," when, like a muff, I was putting it down in an evidently unsuitable place, was decidedly irresistible — and when she answered with her sweet ringing voice to the objection I made to the place she chose, that it was in the sun, " Oh, but I like that," I could have fallen at her feet, and ofiered to devote my existence to her. However, instead of doing so, I put down the stool and walked away, fearful of nothing but « From JiOHton to St. John. 41 liaze ict. iim^ had Li the pants essecl ad so e her u'se I r her. d this atteii- d my ly.jolly ry it a uttin<^ idedly sweet Ice she lat," I te my I put tig hut that she should think mo a fi)r\vard fellow who had shown hor civility with the sole purpose of ohtrudinj^ myself upon her — whereas I had really only done so out of a sheer spirit of politeness. So I lost an opportunity I mi;,dit have used to make the acquaintance of a charming lady. Well, us the sun declined, we a})proached St. John, and the nearer we came, the more heautiful, the grander hecanie the coast scenerv, till it reached the climax at the harhours. High forest-clothed hills, and a lake-like scenery — such is its kind. I admired it far more than I expected. An old shrewd iii-ostock farmer, to whom I ohsorved that it was very pretty country, said it would he mue more so, if it was "more leveller." Well, here I am in St. John's, a ^WQ-iah town, but I think not so far advanced in excellence of building as Melbourne, which, however, it strikingly resembles in some of its features. When I beheld the ]5ritish flag waving over me once more, I experienced a fecliug quite new to me, an " amor patriaj " I dreamed not of possessing, — an exul- tation and a swelling of heart I had hitherto believed all aftectation when others talked of it. I thought it so no more when I felt the thrill of delight that crimson banner gave me. I\\ 42 Journal of Two Months on the Tohique* If I was struck by the beauty of the Maine females in one steamer, I was astounded in St. John's; in fact, it is notorious for the beauty of its women. There is an exhibition of industry here, a little Crystal Palace, got up in imitation of that in London, which I visited yesterday, and which has drawn great crowds into St. John. There was nothing very remarkable in it ; there were some pictures, however, by a native artist, a young man of 20, which were very good indeed, and showed, I have no doubt, great talent and high promise of future excellence. There was besides an exquisite coloured drawing by an English lady, Elizabeth Murray. There was a large procession of various orders, but chiefly of the firemen, a fine body of about 800 volun- teers of all classes, divided into several corps. Besifles this, a fountain was set going, and Sir E. Head delivered an address, which I could not hear. Mr. I find a very useful friend. He knows everybody, and has gained me many acquaintances — indeed, there is no difficulty in fornting as many acquaintances as you please in St. John's, so free are the New Brunswickers from the cold reserve which strangers attribute to the English. Mr. intro- duces me constantly to different people — some, men of 4 1' From Boston to St, John. 43 property in the interior; others, leading men in St. John's ; informing them of my desire to obtain infor- mation about the colony, and never neglecting to inform them of the fact of my having been some years in Australia, which I observe always makes me an object of greater interest. Forthwith they shake hands with me — express the utmost willingness to forward my views, as far as they can, and launch into conversation with the fluent rapidity so remarkable amongst them — especially the Blue Noses. I am about to visit a bar- rister and a wealthy man of note here, a Mr. — ; also a Mr. , who knows more of the province than any man in it, a naturalist, chief of the Indians, angler, and an official in St. John's. I must acknowledge that I am highly pleased with the good nature and the cordial welcome I receive on all hands, which, as an utter stranger, I could never have dreamed of meeting with. The fact of my possessing letters to Sir E. Head goes a good way, I suspect, in establishing my position, or in removing suspicion of my respectability, while Mr. 's friendly offices have been of great service to me. I have already had invitations to the houses of people in the interior, which will be of much ad- vantage. T L. i MH< 44 Journal of Two Months on the Tohiqiie, Last niglit I had a long talk with a Blue Nose (or native) on the steps of the hotel, whom I had never seen before, but who entered into conversation with all the readiness of his race. He is an exception to the general rule in rating Johnstone's work much higher than others. He acknowledges the general opinion to be entirely against it, but believes that future expe- rience will show liis representations of the country to be far nearer the truth than is generally believed. I have just received a letter from , promising another, and reiterating his request that I should closely inspect the Tobique ; remarking that it's success would probably have a most perious influence on my own prospects in the country. I am now preparing for a systematic investigation of the best parts of the pro- vince, starting to-morrow, and commencing with the iron ore at Petersville, which I before mentioned. I must finish now as my time is limited. Give my truest love to all, not forgetting Nora ; and remember me most Idndly to the 's and 's. I may have another chance of writing to you from Frederic*on, but cannot promise. Dearest , good-bye. I am always youi most truly loving brother, — M. C. S. From St, John to Fredcricton. 45 e (or lever h all ) the iglier on to expe- try to nising gliould success m my ng for le pro- ill the d. I truest ler me have •I'ic^on, I am Is. DIARY. Septei er Wth. — For the last two or three hours we have been swiftly steaming up the glorious St. John River to Fredericton — ^,')orious indeed, if a mighty stream flowing between noble rugged hills clothed with deep forests of nature's planting, can be so. As we ascend the river, the landscape loses much of its rude magnificence, but assumes a richer character. Long low islands, covered with stacks of hay, or still shaded by the graceful elm and butter-nut trees, divide the stream; and the rich flats, colonially called "inter- vales," are spread from the margin of the broad current to the still forest-clad hills, which now recede further into the wilderness ; numerous farms are scattered among fertile fields ; cattle browse along the grassy banks : the energies of man have turned the gloomy forest to a smiling habitation. But my sympathies are still more strongly enlisted with the forest : with what impatience did I not long to plunge into the vast woods that I saw around me. I can admire the rich and fertile tracts ; I take interest in agriculture ; and can 46 Journal of Two Months on the Tohique, appreciate the great charm of a farmer's life ; but the truth is I have spent so many years amongst wild lands, boundless plains, or nocturnal forests, that my inclina- tion leads me to the wilderness, rather than to the abode of man — a yearning which none of the delights of civilisation can ever, I believe, entirely subdue. At 8 P.M. the steamer lay alongside the " makeshift " wharf at Fredericton ; out poured the crowd of pas- sengers, dispersing themselves through the scattered village. I betook myself to a very fair hotel by the water-side with a fellow traveller. The scenery imme- diately about Fredericton is tame; there is a considerable extent of cleared land between the river and the old forest; but there is here none of either the boldness or the richness of the lower parts of the river. A strong N.W., cool and refreshing, has dispersed the thick smoke fog, which had obscured the air since I landed at St. John, tempering the warm sun, and producing a day of weather which could hardly be surpassed. Clouds of dust drive through the streets, however, which make walking highly unpleasant. 14:thf Sunday. — The piercing nor'-wester, which has been chilling us all day, is a kind of gentle hint of what the winter is preparing for us ; still it is fine bracing the mds, ilina- I the its of ihift" ' pas- « ttered 3y the imme- lerable old dness A d the ince I , and Uy be treets, 3h has what [racing From St, John to Fredericton, 47 le r. weather, a clear and deep blue sky, with glorious sun. I attended service at the church which at present supplies the place of a cathedral. Dr. Field, Bishop of Newfoundland, preached a sermon which left his hearers in no doubt of his theoloj^ical bias — which is very high church. I accompanied Colonel to his house, and was introduced to his daughters, natives of Canada, with all the brilliancy of complexion which so distinguishes the North Americans. . . . Yesterday I presented myself at Government House. I dined there in the evening, and met the Bishop of N. F. L. and N. S., Colonel Haynes, Colonel Lockyer, &c. A very pleasant evening I spent there. EXTRACTS FROM DIARY. Tohique, IQth September, — Colonel H , agent to the Nova Scotia Land Company, drove me to Stanley to-day. Stanley is one of the principal settlements of this company, and was first commenced about fifteen years ago. This was my first introduction to tlie tangled forests of New Brunswick. Stanley, a large island as it were, surrounded on every side by the wild forest ocean, studded with white, cheerful cottages, panelled with fields of grass or grain-crops, forming 48 Journal of Two Months on the Tobique. altogether a scene of humanity and civilization pleasing to look on. These settlements, hacked and hewed out of the almost impenetrable forests, seem to me but little better than a large prison after all, surrounded on all sides by high and gloomy walls — wooden walls, indeed — a " howling wilderness," the only exit a road I could almost compare to a dark underground passage, over- shadowed a.id confined as it is by the woods. The little village, consisting of tavern, church, school-house, blacksmith's shop, parsonage, doctor's house, and a few other buildings, is placed in a somewhat ill-judged posi- tion, inasmuch as it is at the bottom of a deep valley, so that all egress from it must be by a long steep hill. Through this valley flows the beautiful river Nashwaak — at the time of my visit a shallow stream rustling over a stony bed ; when the rains fall, however, and the snows melt, it is a wide, rushing torrent, and down it, in the spring, come great mountains of ice, which have carried dams, bridges, and mill-houses on it rather than before it, lifting the strong timber bridge, and bearing it away as though it were a feather, sending the mill- house from its foundations, and tearing away the dam as though it felt it not. From St. John to Frcdcricton. 49 so raak over the 1 it, Ibave Itban mm m as Across the new bridge the doctor drove me, in a waggon, as they call the queer-looking trough set upon wheels which are the usual vehicles in this country, and went up the opposite hill by the Miramichi Road, thence we obtained a fine view of the settlement, and of the river winding beneath us under steep, forest-burthcned hills, cheerful, bright, and smiling in the warm sun and clear atmosphere. . . . September 20th. — I again left Fredericton with Colonel H , to whose kindness I am much indebted, on our way to another of the Nova Scotia Land Com- pany's settlements called Springfield, about twenty-five miles up the St. John, and five miles back from the river. . . . This settlement is not nearly so far advanced as Stanley, is still covered wdth a thick crop of stumps, and did not strike me as very inviting. . . Down in a steep little gully, across which the road took us, we came on as pretty a bit of rurality as ever pastoral poet fancied in his namby-pambiest mood — a fair damsel, unmistakeably Irish, milking a cow under the branches of an o'ershadowing maple. Startled at our sudden apparition, she gazed at us with her bright blue eyes, with a surprise which proved that a gig was no usual sight in those backwood settlements . . . 50 Journal of Two Months on the Tohique, The house where wo passed the night, was owned by an old gentleman who came to the country before a house was built in St. John, and gave us as the result of some sixty years' experience, that there is no fault in the country ; it is as line farming land as any one could desire ; that the fault is in the people — dense ignorance, no energy, or energy only exerted in that fascinating, gambling business, the lumbering trade ; these are the drags on the onward course of the colony. This is, in fact, so well known and acknowledged that it is but uttering a truism . . . The old lady desired her husband to " show the men their beds," which proved pretty good, but we had a little difficulty in making it understood that we wanted water for any purpose besides drinking. Every one in this country with a good coat on his back is a " man," every ragged rascal a ''gentleman." Next morning, having paid for our board and lodging (for there is no gratis hospitality among the rural popu- lation here), the colonel and I parted, he on his way back, I on mine to Woodstock, a small town sixty miles above Fredericton. At a neighbouring farm, I hired a horse and waggon to take me on for 1^., currency. This is the usual way of travelling where there is no From St. John to Fredericton, 51 I a It in lid ce, tlie \, in but her 'oved Hng fpose til a [•ascal stage. As a great favour, the owner of a horse drives you as far as ho thinks proper, and expects with your thanks to receive a handsome remuneration. This you put in his hand, shake the other, thank him for his kindness in earning a pound or two, and so you go through the province travelHng at a rate of expense which would take you through the states of America . . 22)«r/, Woodstock. — Mr. G , with that readiness to assist which I have so constantly met with in New Brunswick, called on me early, and showed me a plan of a road from the Tobique to the grand Falls, the result of his survey of that country, besides lending me a map of the Tobique itself to take with me when I explore that river. During the forenoon I went out with Mr. J , who, with the greatest kindness, did all he could to help me, driving me to an Indian village, where he introduced me to a friend of his called Joe, with whom we made a bargain that he should take me up to the Tobique, and thence as high as the stream would let us go. These Indians were living in log- huts not larger than an ordinary dog kennel, and looked lazy and uncivilized. Mr. J— told me a fact which throws a little light on a New Brunswick 4—2 iPPifMi 52 Journal of Two Alonths on the Tohiquc. winter — that lie had seen the mercury solidified at Fredericton ! — equivalent to 39 deg. At Mr. J 's house, where I spent a pleasant evening, I found the Indian whom I had hired waiting to tell me that he had procured a canoe, for which he wanted an advance of six dollars, besides one more to buy flour for his family in his absence. We started at 8 the next morning, with a supply of pork, bis- cuit, tea, and sugar for a fortnight's cruise. . . . Strong as was the current, Joe (for such was my skipper's name,) made the canoe shoot along with his pole at a rate which astonished me, not more, how- ever, than the places through which he unhesitatingly guided her. The river was very low, and banks or " bars " of gravel and large shingle frequently divided it into one or more channels, which themselves were often so shallow as barely to allow even the light canoe to pass. On one occasion Joe had chosen one which had ho known he would certainly have avoided, but, having entered it, he proceeded with a perseverance amounting to foolish obstinacy. Gently and cautiously he steered the little craft along a bank of shingle, which closed the upper entrance of the channel, and over which the stream was gurgling and tumbling in From St. John to Frcdcridon. 53 Lght lone led, ince isly Igle, laud in a manner which made mo rather nervous. "You will have to go hack, Joe; you can never get over that," said I, though at the same time I had an unpleasant conviction that he was ahout to try, at any rate. " I guess I can," was his quiet reply, and at the same instant, to my unhounded surprise, he shoved the canoe right on to a place where the stronger and more riotous rush of the current promised a little greater depth of water, though to go up there seemed about the same thing as going upstairs in a boat. My surprise was not much less when, with the assist- ance of a shove with his spear, which I had in my hand, we found ourselves safe in the deep water above. Close by the mouth of a deep rocky gully we landed to dine on our pork and biscuit, having found fuel in driftwood scattered over the stony beach. Joe then proceeded to stop sundry leaks which had shown themselves with mixed rosin and gi*ease, and then once more we launched our frail craft on the swift waters of the St. John. Joe talked of finding quarters for the night in some one of the numerous houses which stud the banks of the river from St. John upwards. I don't much like 54 Journal of Two Months on the Ivhiquc, If asking tlio hospitality of strangers Avlicn supplied with tho means for camping out, unless the weather is very had indeed, and I felt this disinclination more in New Brunswick than anywhere else. Under all circumstances the stranger finds himself tho cause of inconvenience to his cntertainert-. ; their daily routine is interrupted, and they look uncomfortahle, while the guest is thoroughly so, mentally and physi- cally. He loses tho glorious freedom of his camp, and hoth causes and suffers a constraint which is the death of comfort. Joe's hias was in favour of a Mr. P 's house, ahout a mile higher up. Of this Mr. P I had never heard hefore; hut I internally resolved that no force of circumstances should make me go there. But as I had no reason to hack my decision, instead of openly rebelling, I waited, trusting to find some loophole whereby to escape. The night began to fall, leaving little time to find what I sought, when a tow-boat moored to the banks with a vacant cabin or house _. lUght my eye. " Good place for a m' t^ m a a wet night, Joe," I carelessly rem. .^ed, . we came up to it. '* Yes, sir, first-rate." Joe i .id committed himself, and I hastened to secure my advantage. " appose From St. John to Frcder'icton. 56 go md ye. lilt, it. )se we sleep there to-night, Joe?" "Very well, sir, as you, please." On a steep hank ahove us was a little farm-house, where I saw a man choppinjj; fire- wood. We landed, and I inquired of him if the boat was his, stating my wisli to pass the night in it. He said that " the boat was none of his, but that if I liked I might cook my victuals in his house, lie down by his fire, and welcome." The increasing rain was a strong argument in favour of this pro- posal, and as I could adopt it without inconsistency, I at once agreed. So the Indian and I forthwith carried up our blankets, cooking-apparatus and food into a rough but very substantially built little house, where a roaring fire and well-heated stove contrasted with the gloom and rain outside. Two comely, middle-aged women (one of them the man's wife), and an old gentleman, his father, received us very graciously, supplying us with forks to eat with, and cream for our tea, treating Joe, too, with as much considera- tion as if he were a white man, setting a chair for him with all imaginable politeness. I had a long talk with the old gentleman, who had come from the States thirty years ago : and, like most of the ii 5G Journal of Two Months on the Tohique, many Yankees I have met, seemed a very intelligent, well-informed man. On his hearing I had been in Australia, I had, as usual, to answer a multitude of questions, evincing great curiosity on the subject. The women especially took interest in the wool, wishing they had as much at their command, as then they could make as fine shawls as any one ; for all New Brunswick farm-wives are pro\ided with a spinning-wheel, and manufacture most of the woollen articles of their dress. I was much pleased by the straw hats so generally worn by the fair Bluenoses, setting off their undeniablv good looks. So bitterly cold was it next morning that on shaking hands with my entertainers, and bidding them good morning, I was resolved to walk part of the way, at least, though my weight in the boat would have been rather an advantage to Joe, as giving the strong head- wind less power to retard the canoe. After a brisk walk, I got on board, and endured the blast till I hardly knew that " I was I." So I again rebelled, and insisted on going on shore again. Here I con- trived to entangle myself among elder thickets, and clamber about steep banks till I fell far astern of From St. John to Fredericton. 57 \ tiio canoe, and was glad enough to embark once more and remain there quietly, covering myself with a piece of oiled canvas Mr. J had lent me for a tent. We reached, at noon, a collection of houses round a saw-mill, which had beeii built in one of those steep gullies generally chosen for such a building — mill privileges, as they call them. Here Joe found a blacksmith to put a spike on his pole, and had again to repair his canoe, which leaked annoyingly. Cramped up in the bottom of the canoe, with scarcely room to stir, benumbed with cold, and shrinking from the bitter blast, I had now begun to appreciate the advice I had received, and rejected, to take with me a little spirits, as well lor myself as the Indian, who had, in fact, taken care of himself; and that same small bottle of brandy which I had espied on starting with suspicion, became now of no small use. It is indeed an invariable rule to take a small quantity of grog for the Indian on these excursions, but it is not prudent to allow him free access to 3'our stock. My own Indian, I was assured, was an exception to the rule, but they sometimes end in capsizing the canoe if they can get as much as they like. While Joe was patching up his canoe I sat under ' I 68 Journal of Two Months on the Tohique, the lee of the steep rocky bank, clothed with thick alders, sketching him as he worked, bringing into the picture a log canoe or pirogue, poled across the stream by two men. I wish my pencil could do justice to the picturesque scene, or my pen to the beauty I heard, felt, and saw in that quiet half hour. The broad river rolling beneath the high forest-clad hills before me, glowing beneath a bright sun — the rushing of the boughs over me mingling with the clink of little bells, and the murmuring of the current against the stubborn rocks that it could not roll away — all gave a romantic dreaminess to the scene, which made me loth to rouse myseli from the reveries it induced — reveries of the past and of other lands. But this dreaming won't help us to the Tohique, the object of my present dreaming fit. Come, Joe, we must be off. We reached a Temperance inn, a mile beneath the mouth of the Tohique, at dusk. The wind had died away, and the clear sky over which the pale flashes of the northern lights streamed like waving locks of shining yellow hair, promised us a smart frost, which promise it fulfilled. There is a mysterious, almost an awful, beauty in these northern lights, in their thin delicate loveliness, as though the gates of heaven were 1 ies of Icli an liin jre From St. John to Fredcricton, 59 suddenly opened, and the glory from within — the glory of the Deity — beamed forth. As twilight deepens into night a faint yellow bank of light is seen rising above the northern horizon ; while gazing, we become aware of the long streams of light, but we cannot tell the moment when first they existed — swiftly they rise and spread, but we cannot watch their progress — diverging from the bank of light as though they were the outskirts of some vast source of inexpressible splendour. Next morning (the 25th) I started on foot for the mouth of the Tobique, which I had understood was a mile and a half from the inn. The walk in such glorious weather was delightful, and when I came to a cluster of houses on one side the river, and the junction of a biggish stream on the other, with another cluster in the angle of the junction, I could hardly believe I had reached the Tobique. So I went on till I met a waggon driven by a lad who looked hard at me, and said, ** I say, mister, are you the man as wants to go to the Falls ? " In fact I had told the innkeeper I was thinking of going on thither, as it would take a day or two to put the canoe to rights. "^ 'Cos my uncle was at H 's last night, and he told my father there was a man as was going to the Falls, so I came down to 60 see. »> Journal of Two Months on the Tob'ique, "Whence do you come?" " Koostock, I guess." (The Aroostock is a river which joins the St. John about three miles above the Falls.) '' I want to go therCf but I don't want to go to the Fails, so you may take me if you like." Thereupon the lad becomes sceptical and guesses that I am not the man after all ; I try to convince him, telling him that I had changed my mind, that there was no one else at H 's., and that if he went there he'd just go for nothing ; clenching my argument by rej^resenting that I must be the man, as I could not be there and here too ; if I were at H 's I could not be talking to him there. This puzzled him for a minute, but he extricated himself by recurring to his former doubts, till the question began to be whether I was I or some- body else. I settled it at last by turning away, saying I didn't care whether he took me or no, so he let me get in. My object at the Aroostock was to get some grog, the supply at the Tobique inn being out. I pro- cured some excellent brandy, which will, I hope, keep a " fell'^w poling hard," as Joe says, in good spirits. ( 61 ) CHAPTER III. ' DIARY ON THE TOBIQOT:_TnE INDUNS AND THE WIGWAM. Next day, at 3 p.m., we started on our excursion into the wilds of the Tobique, a river with but few inha- bitants, as far as sixteen miles up, and those chiefly unauthorized squatters. For about half a mile from the month it runs through a wide bed, cleft by two or three pretty islands, then a sudden turn brings us into the Narrows, like entering the gates of death; a deep narrow chasm, cleft through the rocks. High over-head on either side rise the rugged precipitous walls, crowned by overhanging birch and spruce forests. On our emerging from these Narrows, Joe espied some wild ducks, one of which I hit at a long shot though without disabling it. I rose, however, several' pegs in Joe's estimation, who bestowed equal praises on 02 Journal of Two Months on the Tohique. the rifle and its owner. " That was a good shot, I tell you ; where did you get that rifle ? She throws a ball well, I tell you." On a rock where we landed to fish, I espied a hare- bell, the first I have seen for many years ; and with its meekly hanging head it told me long and melancholy tales of times gone by never to return ; not that old scenes may not be revisited, and the sunshine bright as ever, and the flowers blossom as then ; but it is he who revisits them is past and gone — himself and not himself ; the heart that saw them is dead, or worse, is changed, for that change kills not the memory, the long lingering gaze after the fading past. On we go, shut out from the world by pile upon pile of forests, heaped up in heavy masses on the hills, whose feet the Tobique had washed for many years. Now that the sun was sinking, we began to fish with such tackle as we had. How my friend St. , that scientific and enthusiastic fisherman, would have laughed had he seen us trailing bits of salt pork over the water, to persuade the trout, who we believed to lurk below, that it was a fly ; he, the while, preparing his reel and tapering bamboo, and elegant flies, and offering to give me a shilling for all he doesn't catch, while I g've him The Indians and the Whja'am, 63 icd er, bw. nd ive lim half-a-crown for all he does. But how would his ridicule be changed to wonder on seeing a splash and a bounce and a trout, as fast as Joe could cast his pork over the stream. I say Joe, for I must confess that the trout with that unaccountable caprice that fish are subject to, persisted in bestowing their custom on him only. Tired at last of fishing — Joe of success, and I of failure — we resolved to make a night of it with our prey on a low gravelly island or bar just opposite. Then, indeed, the past seemed come again — all the old familiar preparations for " bushing it," which my life in Australia had made second nature to me. The kindling of a fire, the making up of a bed, — in this instance done simply by throwing the larger stones from the shingle on which we were to sleep,— 'h ^ boiling of the tea, — the meal so highly relished, — the supremely gratifying pipe after that; then the spreading of blankets, the lying down to sleep with ten thousand stars to watch over us (unless there are ten thousand drops of rain instead), the gazing deeply into infinite space ere sleep closes the eyes, the deep hush of night only broken by the plash plash of the river over the rock, and the thronging memories which in those hours of still solitude come rushing on — oh ! I could not think but '! G4 Journal of Two Months on the Tohiqne. that I was in glorious, sunny Australia, till I looked round and saw the canoe, under the lee of which we lay, or Joe's red Indian face glowing in the light of the blaze as he heaped log upon log ; and then I remembered I was the Port Phillip squatter camping in the woods of New Brunswick. I was roused in the beginning of my sleep by a shout from Joe, which he accounted for, as he sat up looking bewilderedly around, by saying he had dreamed that he had hooked so large a trout that he capsized the canoe, and was shouting to me for help. September ^Ith. — The four or five of the trout caught last evening remained after our supper : these, with pork and biscuit, formed breakfast; after which we resumed our cruise. We had proposed to add salmon-spearing to the other sports, and having neglected to bring salt to cure them, I climbed up a steep bank to a little house to get some. I found a good old lady, — a motherly sort of body, whose husband was out ** lumbering." My rifle excited much admiration in her little son, who seized it at once with many excla- mations of delight at the beauty of the stock ; little wild animals these children of the woods are, wliere there are no schools to teach them manners; scampering about II ! ^he Indians and thn ir- iite little beastR. o* • *^ "bout bears, the .ood ol^ ""^ '"l''''''''^^ ^«d Mied three sheep rl;:' r'' "^^^^-''^^^ taw two in a tran « , T , "-^"^'^ ''^'- I'^^band had -%«::rir.:!:::. '■''•-■••■-■ hold him." '"'" ' «« «en couldn't 1 went down again to the river and f . t -t^« -cited .ate ahout .o.e dneri, 7 "'" " an island, and of which to I, • '' '"=" "" "-...^ .«...:■::.-:;-*:•'«'« and Joe discovered a partrid.. !^ '' """'"■"' t'^ongh not in temper, for they will standT\ ' -tl' sticks and stones, aln^ost too Ir^''^"^" o»t Of their wa,. I ,,,, ,,. "f ^ '-)■ *« get ;'«'-e.oe.s admiration o;n::r:^~^^ ^^ard-wood or white-fleshed partridge a J "^ ''^ variety called the spruce o , ft , '' '""'"'^'• --esh,andaje::;::r---- '• ^ '"'v a tall, dark-haired" • i If GG Journal of Two Months on the Toh'ique. lady of tho woods, young and comely, carrying a large spinning wheel, with which she stepped quickly and nimbly over the rough rocks till she stood opposite the hut, where her loud, clear tones rang through the air like a note from an organ ; a signal to the house, whence shortly issued a man, who crossed and brought her over in a pirogue. For fifteen or sixteen miles up the Tobique there are a few scattered settlers. The Campbell settlement, which has made some progress, terminates the perma- nent habitations on the river. Then come the half- savage lumberers and wanderers like ourselves ; and for fifty or sixty miles the river knows no other human guests. Our object now was to find some place where we could get a good supply of trout for our evening meal ; then to camp, spread our tents, and be miserable at our ease ; but this we could not do, — find a fishing place I mean — for in that pouring rain there was no difficulty about the misery. On the extreme verge of the settlement we pitched our oiled canvas tent, and spite of rain, wet ground, and such disagreeables, spent a night of sound sleep. I had, according to Colonel H 's advice, provided myself with a pound or two of composite candles — an item in their preparations L nc Indians and the Wij,eam. C7 "'Wch I would advise .0 one to omit r„ , -•t-^ onty the „.-„ LT: tt " ""^^ ""^'^ you what ,„u are about. ''"'"''■'^"'°=''- Joe watches mo while 1 write wifl, „ 7 • • -^'- ^« i-ea.iu, to .eadJLt 'r;.""'' "^oot «nd goes to school. I asted 1^ he "="• any books printed in the In,r , ''''■' thereareafewbutw '^"''""'''- ^'^-"' tew, but was greatly shocked when T „., , h-n^ (not remembering that the Indian , , all Catholics) if ,r,J. , ^ '"' ''^'•*"'''«"'« "'o o '^^j, iMo I not Bibles " n« ,v ^ a charge of crime. "^ '^ 1^« -ere repelling 28M.-Next day, under pouring rain w„ ™cii8, old red sandstone cliff, ^„„, ■ • gypsum, which, from its great fertili • ^"'"^ probably give that snof ^^ ^''°P'''"'^^' "■" A^oueherex,rsttri:d:'trc;:rr'^'^^^- Tl.e chief cliffieulty is simply to " "" '"''■'• 5-2 I* « '! I 08 Journal of Tivo Months on the Tohique, out. It is as iu skatiiij^, swimming, or riding ; all the tyro has to do is to overcome his fears and nervousness, and as soon as ho has dono so tho rest is easy. In a short time I hegan to acquire confidence, could throw my weight on tho pole, and shove the canoe along at such a rate that Joe assured mc I " did it almost quite right." The rain continued with such determination that I got sulky, and told Joe I had not come all the way from England to get wet on the Tohique, whereat he laughed heartily^ After dinner I undertook to ** fix " the guns, which wanted cleaning, hut, not having so much as a screw to our ramrods, still less proper cleaning rods, I soon contrived to ** fix " the ramrod of the gun in the harrel in such a manner as to get it into ''a regular fix ; " hut Joe having waxed it out, I set to work on the rifle, and in two minutes got that into such a mess with a lump of rag at the hottom that I was ahout to give up that gun for the rest of the expedition. Joe, however, having examined it, observed, "I guess I can get it out," and then with a needle and a piece of thread and the ramrod of his gun, rigged up a machine with which I should as soon have thought of pulling up a stump, but with which his ingenuity soon extracted the rag. The Indians and the Wigiram, 69 ho SB, 1 a row ; at lost latl from gliccl ;uns, as a ids, 1 In the tgular In the with [ye up rever, ret it and Kvhich Itump, After wo had " fixed " our dinner and arranged our difficulties, we again strolled away into the uninhabited wilderness — uninhabited save by the ** wild beasts " Joe is no>v keenly looking out for (being encouraged by a dream to expect to see a moose before night), or by lumberers scarcely less wild than they. These lum- berers, many of them farmers or thuir sons, others men hired by dealers in lumber, go into the " wilderness " in the fall of the year, taking with them supplies for some months' abode in that savage land ; endure hard- ships and severe toil, flies in unendurable numbers, rains, cold winds, and then frost and snow-storms of Arctic severity. When the ice breaks up and fierce torrents rush down from the hills, they launch their logs — stream-driving them, as it is termed — in the water half the time, and risking their life when at some narrow spot the crowding logs get heaped up into a jam. When once in the wide river, they are joined into a raft, and the lumberers start on their voyage down the rapid stream ; their six months of toil completed, their pockets filled with money (I speak of hired men, not farmers, whose pockets are generally pretty well emptied by the process), they give themselves up to the unrestrained enjoyment of their supreme luxury — an 1 J 70 Journal of Two Months on the Tohiqiie. unlimited supply of the vilest whisky — till their money is gone ; and they pass the summer as they can, till their season of toil returns. There seems to be a charm in this forest life, independent of the wages or the hope of largo gains, which makes it difficult for those who have once entered en the pursuit to abandon it. Already the margin of the stream is strewn with spruce logs waiting for the first fresh ; boats loaded with supplies are being towed up by horses ; and now and then we pass a camp, and canoes, with two or three rough-looking men in red shirts, pass up and down the river. Deep and wide and still and dark was the river, stretching away in long reaches like beautiful lakes — in many instances bringing before one the lovely scenes of Cumberland. Joe was now anxiously looking out for like.^j places to find +lie tracks of the moose where they came to drink ; and with this view made the canoe glide gently rjto a quiet nook we saw among the alder groves — the entrance into a net- work of canals and water passages, through a thick forest of alders and low br hes. Into that death-like stillness we softly stole — not a sound was heard, save the lightest whisper in the water as Joe's paddle just touched it — the overhanging I The Indians and the Wigwam, 71 ■iver, in es of for they auoe Ider and low le— the i trees slept silently in the twilight their leaf-laden boughs produced. So almost awe-inspiring was that unnatural quiet, that Joe and I instinctively abstained from speaking (as though we dared not break the silence) ; or if we spoke, it was scarce above a whisper. And as we entered the gates of that stilly labyrinth, a huge owl glided noiselessly by, like the presiding genius of silence, swiftly vanishing into the gloom beyond. With my rifle in my hand, and sight and hearing at their utmost stret',h, we explored these secret ways till our progress was stopped by the shoal- ing of the water ; and we returned without having seen anything save the old owl and a big lonely trout, who had probably chosen that quiet spot to meditate in — nor heard any sound save what we made ourselves. Returning to the open river, we saw so many trout shooting about that we got out and began fishing. We offered them our apologies for flies manufactured with a couple of partridge feathers, tied to the hook with some coarse thread ; and in two or three casts Joe hud landed as many of the speckled beauties. Mi/ wooing was all in vain, and in my spleen I had a good mind to try no more ; but Joe insisted, and laying down his rod, " guessed he'd let me catch some now," taking his * 72 Journal of Two Months on the Tohique, paddle and guiding the canoe over the capricious crowd below. Perhaps it was the advancing evening which made the fish more eager to feed, or, perhaps, that I had begun to place my fly in a more tempting manner ; at any rate, a trout was soon plunging at the end of the line : the spell was broken, and now Joe resuming his rod, we fished away, pulling up sometimes each a fish at once, till I thought we had enough for several meals — as I am not sportsman enough to enjoy killing for killing's sake. Joe had selected for our camp that night a brow over the river, where the lumberers had cleared a small spot to place their logs in, preparatory to r'^ lling them down to the river. It was like a chamber walled in on three sides by the matted forest, roofed over with the blackness of night ; before us and beneath us ran the deep river and rose tall elms in the island it embraced with its clinging folds — but we saw them not from the edge of our little platform. It was like standing on the brink of the world — infinity might have been beneath us for all that we could see. At the foot of a huge dead old pine-tree, on the damp and oozy ground, we made our beds : the fire flashed on the grim trunks and branches and nodding bough.s, which walled us in, The Indians and the Wigwam, 73 row nail lem on the the ced the on leen f a |nd, ks I in, and this was all that we could see. But here in good humour with the world, I sat and watched Joe frying the trout, which half an hour before had been dancing merrily in the current. That is the way to eat fish — to whisk them, as it were, out of the water into the pan. For the sake of those who object to fishing aa cruelty, I may Sl 'e what seems to me proof of the insensibility of the trout's mouth, as well as of its voracity and boldness. I had hooked one of these gentry, and just as I was lifting him from the water to the land he wriggled off the hook, and fell back just at my feet ; and there I saw him plainly waiting for me to give him another chance, looking up as though he disputed the fairness of such doings ; and on my drop- ping my fly over him, I wish I may never see another trout if he did not instantly "jump at the chance," and succeed in hooking himself so securely, that he never saw the Tobiquc more. Now will any one tell me that fish sufi'ered tortures from the hook ? No ! it would be too much for even Martin to believe. Joe became rather chatty this evenipg, regretting his not having broug!it his spelling-book, and singing book, giving me some account of his domestic afi'airSj telling iir 74 Journal of Two Months on the Tohlque. ^ i me, amongst other things, that he is a Yankee coming from the Penobseat ; he discoursed on hunting and fishing, moose, bears, and salmon, and appeared on the whole to relish the fun of the thing. The next day began with a damp, clinging, wreath- ing fog ; very dismal looks a forest in a fog ; in fact, nature is then in a fit of the vapours, and the very trees look desponding, as though the damp " put their hair out of curl." Joe's dreaming had now put him on the qtd vive for moose, wb.cli :c was confident of finding ere night, though my o .xi expectations of such luck were very slight. Wherever a shelving bank or muddy spot on the margin of the rivtv occurred, there he sho red his canoe ; but especially he looked out for the little lagoons where the moose came to drink and crop the water weeds and the herbage which here and there they find along the banks. We came on one of these, a narrow shallow piece of water, between a little, low, alder-clothed island and the river banks ; at the lower end, in a deep dark pool, we saw such numbers of trout that I could not help seizing my rod to try a cast, when, in a low, sharp \^isper, I heard Joe exclaim, '* There's a moose ! " Down went the rod, and all eagerness I caught hold The Indians and the Wigivam. 75 [r t of my rifle ; crouching down I gazed through the fallen timber which crossed the narrow channel, and at a distance of perhaps a hundred and fifty yards, I saw a dark reddish-brown animal in the water. The eagerness which went near to prevent ray taking aim I managed to restrain fcr the few seconds, during which I drew an imaginary line from my eye along the barrel of my rifle to the glossy flank of my destined victim ; the sharp crack roused the echoes, and in three minutes the unfortunate creature, who scarce stirred six paces from where he received the shot, lay dead in the water. Then came hurry and excitement, and jumping ashore, and looking for the flask, balls, and knife, none of which in our haste could we find; while Joe, whose impatience could no longer be restrained, disappeared in the matted alder grove between us and our prey. Having at last found our ammunition exactly where it ought to be, I reloaded my piece and followed him ; diving and ducking beneath the branches, and scram- bling and plunging through till I reached the spot. The moose lay in the water where I had shot him ; the bottom was so muddy that Joe could only reach him by cutting down branches to step on, then making a piece of rope fast round his neck, we contrived to drag 'M :r il ,! :li 76 Journal of Two Months on the Tohiqne. him on to a few yards of clear turf, and there we cut his throat. He proved to be a young one, probably about two years old, a bull, and very fat, weighing perhaps about 200 lb., while a full-grown bull, standing about sixteen hands, might weigh 2,000 lb. This first moment of quiet showed me that we had got into the very head-quarters of the most venomous little demons of flies I ever was enraged by. My first cry was for a fire, to keep them ofi" a little by the smoke, my first act to try and fill my pipe as a further defence ; I was then obliged to walk incessantly about our narrow bit of turf, and began to wish I had never seen the moose, or at least had been lucky enough to miss him. Even Joe, who had before asserted that the flies never troubled him, could hardly endure their stings. Each of them raised on me a lump which lasted for days, and caused by their number a burning feverish heat. A mixture of tar and oil rubbed over the exposed skin is, I am told, a very good protection from these ministers of evil ; but this I had not procured, being told that at this season there was no fear of them. The calm, warm, muggy weather F