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TORONTO : JAMES CAMPBELI^ &; SON, s^ Entered according to Act of Provincial Legislature, in the Year One Thousand Eight Hundred and Sixty-seven, by the Reverend Egeuton Kyekson, LL.D., Chief Superintendent of Education for Ontario, m the OJice of the Registrar of the P.'imnce of Canada. 1^ National Library of Canada Bibliotheque nationale du Canada Tm Scl r cisi va io •' PREFACE. the lent : . ,,,, tl.e Fourth of th. O.T,nd^n. Sene. of School Books j^.^ ^^,^.ier Kxer- ^ep«piU-n,bee„ ^^^^^^ presented in t.. cues -eaa ..y..e an -^^^^^^^^^^^ form of narralM, T^■h.ch is pecnU.vriy ™'"'*- v.„^„ ficti and phenomena of a At the .a,ne time, they embod r o P ^^^ .^ .„o.,t ...ctive eharaete. w.^^^^^^^^ ^'''^'^:'Z^'^:.. fi.t five sections ol 0,c volume i» «-^-P;-; J' ^„,, .„a Adventure, wUh History, B.ography, Tr.ve ^_^^^^^^ ^^^ ^^j^^^^,^^ Sketches of Manners and Cns on.s, ^^^.^^^ ^^^^^^ t„then.ostinn— countrres.nt,.e.orR^^ ^^^^ ^^^^_^^_^ ^^ their W-V-te headn^s .. ^^^^^^^^^. _^ ^.^ ^ „,,, enlarge the nuiid ot the pup / iv I'KKl-ACK. lands jind nges, j)nHicn1/ir attention has boen paid to the North AiumicaJi IVovinccs, by dovoting to them, and to the empire of w'lich they form so inii)()rtant a part, a large ])orti()n of the book. Ii lias been desired to impart to a work designed for the training of tlie youth of our country, a national character, which may help to clierish in their minds ideas and atntiments favorable to the culture of a generous, patriotic spirit. The (Sixth Section consists of Miscellaneous Extracts, which have been selected with a view to their furnishing an additional variety of reading lessons suitable for the pupil as he advances ill his studies, and which may serve as a fit preparation for entering on the Fifth or concluding volume of the series. Eniif'ATioN Offick, Toronto, December 1867. r C *' CONTENTS. . t ( - AMERICA. ifcThe Norwepau Colonics in Greenland Partiu<' with the E.squimaux -~Sir Jiihn Franklin .... The Hudson Bay Company . • Hi8toi7 of Vancouver luluud . • The Fishenes of British Columbia . The Chinook Indians .... The Lost Hunter .... A Feniale Crusoe The Wolverine Destruction of the Red River Colony . Hiawatha's Sailing .... Fountling of the North American Colonies The Great Auk The Voyage of the Golden Hind Sir Hnmpkrty Gilbert The Mountaineer in Newfoundland Sable Island The Coal Fields of Nova Scotia . Discovery o c' America .... The Prair>€8 The United Empire Loyalists Jack Frost Pitcher Plants ..... Moose Hunting in Nova Scotia . Historical Sketch of Prince Edward Island Ship-building in New Brunswick . The Ship-builders . . • Fire in the Woods . . Antumn Woods . The Lazar^ito at Tracadie . Left Ashot-e on Anticosti Labradot and other Teas Story of Wapwian The Maple .... Death of Montcalm Lines on the Death of Wolfe The River St. Lawrence Jacques Oartier at Hochelaga The Victoria Bridge The Rapid .... GiUlantry of a Marine . r* rAoa Scoresby . 1 Kane ... 3 Punch ... 6 Ballantyne . . 7 Brit iah North Ame- rica . .11 Edinburgh Review 14 Paul Kane . . 16 Street ... 17 Leisure Hour . 21 Milton & Clieadle 24 Ross's Red River . 26 Longfellow . 27 Pedley . 30 Links in the Chain 32 British Enterprise 34 Longfellow . . 37 Cormack's Joumej/ 38 Martin . . 42 Campbell's Readers 44 Robertson . . 46 Bryant . . 49 Sabine . .53 Miss Gould . 57 Campbell's Readers 58 Lieut. Hardy . 60 Hill's Account . 62 Campbell's Readers 65 Whittier . . 67 Norman Macleod 69 Bryant . 73 Gov. Gordon 74 Lever ... 76 Campbell's Readers 81 BalLintyno . . 83 Darnell . 86 Hawkins . . 88 Goldsmith . 90 London Journal . 90 Hawkins . . 93 CasselCs Paper . 95 Sangster . . 97 CamlVs Paper . 98 VI CONTENTS. Fisliing f«)r Muukalounge .^•'quinels .... - India II Summer , . , All liidiHti Cduncil Fufh of Nint/itrn The Taking of Detroit Lumlu'i-iii^ .... Ainrririi to Green well Merchant Enter- prise , 171 Ciiamhers . . 174 Dickens . . 176 Southoy . . 179 Scott . . .181 VChit^B Land mar Jc^ 1S3 Scott . . .180 EiizH Took . .188 Oanipheirs Ileadon: VM lover . . . VM Campbell . . I'JO ( C0NTKNT9. vii ( — 7%< Vftfran Tar .... ' ■ Jnciilfut Herniaiiu, tliu Pi livuior of Germany The Village Giiniduii . The FuimdiiiK <>f Aixlii-Chapellr •^ An Iiicukid ul It idn/ioii — The Duicii/all i>f J'ofinid Three Sci-nos in tho Tyrol . The Sif'tfo of lleiishur "NVillinm Tell iiii.l his Son . Tho (icysirs of Iceland Tho Maelstrom ... Battle of the lialtii' ♦ Th(! IJuraiiij,' of Moscow The (Jratetul .lew -The lioiui to the Trenches SJ The Rattlo of Thurmopylro . ^The Dtstrui'tion of I'ompeii View of LiMhon .... '-Bernardo del Curi>io ^ Taking of Gibraltar A Komaii'a Honour AFRICA The Battle of the Nile t^Ocean ^ ISIurerri Afar in the JJescrt The Source of the Nile The Gorilla A Slave Hunt in the .Sahara ^The Slave's Dream Scene at St. Helena The Girafifo Discovery of the (ape of Good Hope The Falls of the Z.imbesi Alma River The Lament of the Pei'i for Binda Askelou ASIA. The SponE;e Richard the Lion-heart and the Saracens The Cedar of Lebanon The Leper Mahomet Interior of an Ancient Palace in Nineveh The Destruction of Sennacherib Good Advice not to be Despised The Siege of Delhi The Pearl Fisheries of Ceylon A Day in Bangkok The Death of Magellan TAOR Moir . . . IW Wot.lsworth . 20'J The ChriHtnias Tree 201 .Icinr . . LVI Kilinhnrijh Liter- am Journal 207 Oiwem-Week . 210 Browning . .211 Campl)ell . . 21-J Titan . . 214 Bentlty BallarU . 217 Chambers's Tracts 220 Dufferin . . 222 Wonders of the World . . 224 Campbell . . 220 fif^m's Narrative 228 IJwald . . . 231 Lushington . . 234 Rhleigh . . 23r» Magazine of Art . 237 TaUourd . .240 Mrs Hemans . 242 Overland Route . 244 Book of Golden Dteds . . 247 Wurburton . 249 Byron . . 252 Cowper , . 2.')3 Pringle . . 254 Milner . . 256 Links in tie Chain 258 Horace St. John 260 Longfellow . . 202 Tales of Discovern 264 Han is ". 267 The Sea . . 270 Livingstone . . 272 Trench . . 276 Moore . . 277 The Land and the Book , . 278 Spratt & Forbes . 280 Roseoe . 281 Sharpens Magazine 282 Willis ... 285 Great Events of History . . 287 Lavard . . 290 Byron ... 291 Sharpens Journal 292 Smiles . 294 Sydney Smith . 296 Neale . . .298 TheSM . . 300 VUl CONTENTS. Dincovory of Australia Thu Tiiirk at liio I)i;;K'in|^B The Wnrk of the " it,'i>liem " Fight with u Kunguiuu A New Zoaland Chief . . ^ The Coral Grove . AUSTKALiLSlA. MISCELLANEOUS The Journeying o^he iHraolitcs ... The Innuinj *' Enoch Walked with Oott" The Passage of the Red Sea The Burial of Moses The 8cttl(>nient uf the IsraclitcH in Caauan — Sony of Miriam Uifltory of tlio iHraelitus from the EHtahlJMhnicnt of the Monarchy till thu Kuvult uf the Ten Tribes History of the Israelites from the Revolt of the Ten Tribes till the Captivity Use the Pen The Hour of Death History of the Israelites from the Restoration of the Jews till the Birth of (Christ History of the Israelites from the liirth of Christ till the Destruction of Jerusalem Jerusalem before the Siege . »^ Palestine .... Fallen is thy Throne . The Saviour A Pmhn of Life . . The Teaching and Character of Jesus Christ On the Death aad Sacntice of Christ The Rock of Anes . . Christ's Seco7id Coming .... All Creatures Called on to Praise God The Christian Salvation .... The Hoi 1/ Spirit Airs for the Rest The Better Land The Incarnation An Elegy. Written in a Country Churchyard Hope Beyond the Grave . . . . I'he Voice of Spring ..... I'inus and Seasons Y What is Timef r Auburn *rrhui inder-storm among the Alpa The Graves of a Household . Separation .... Story of Le Fevre Adam's Mornitig Hymn m Man was May the axe of civilized man, and untenanted by aught save a few roving hordes of Red Indians, and mjfmds of wild animals. Imagine amid this wilderness a number of ^mall squares, each enclosing half-a-dozen wooden houses, and about a dozen men, and between each of these establishments a space of forest varying from fifty to three hundred miles in length ; and you will have a pretty correct idea of the Hudson Bay Company's territories, and of the number of, and distance between, the forts. The idea, however, may be still more correctly obtained by imagining populous Great Britain converted into a wilder- ness, and planted in the middle of Rupert's Land. The Com- pany in that case would build three forts in it — one at the Land's End, one in Wales, and one in the Highlands ; so that in Britain there would be but three hamlets, with a population of some thirty men, half-a' dozen women, and a few children ! The Company's posts extend, with these intervals between, from the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean, and from -vsithin the Arctic Circle to the northern boundaries of the United States.* The country is divided into four large departments. The Northern department, which includes all the establishments in the far north and frozen regions; the Southern department, including those to the south and east of this, the post at the head of James Bay, and along the shores of Lake Superior; the Montreal department, including the country in the neigh- borhood of Montreal, up the Ottawa River, and along the north shore of the Gulf of St. Lawrence and Esquimaux Bay ; and the Columbia department, which comprehends an immense extent of country to the west of the Rocky Mountains, including the Oregon territory, which, although the Hudson Bay Com- ' pany still trade in it, now belongs to the United States. These departments are subdivided into a number of districts, each under the direction of an influential officer; and these again are subdivided into numerous establishments, foi*ts, posts, and outposts. The name of fort, as already remarked, is given to all the posts in the country, but some of them certainly do not merit ^' , 'V THE HUDSON BAY COMPAlTr. i,he name ; indeed, few of them do. The only two in ♦he country that are real, bond fde forts, are Fort Garry, and the Stone Fort in the colony of Red River, which are surrounded by stone walls, with bastions at the comers. The others are unerely defended by wooden pickets or stockades; and a few, where the Indians are quiet and harmless, are entirely destitute of defence of any kind. Some of the chief posts have a com- plement of about thirty or forty men ; but most of them have (mly ten, five, four, and even tvcoy besides the gentleman in charge. As in most instances these posts are planted in a wilderness far from men, and the inhabitants have only the society of each other, some idea may be formed of the solitSry life led by many of the Company's servants. There are seven different grades in the service. First, i -lo laborer, who is ready to turn his hand to anything ; to become a trapper, fisherman, or rough carpenter, at the shortest notice. He is generally employed in cutting firewood for the consump- tion of tho establishment at which he is stationed,' shovelling enow from before the doors, mending all sorts of damages to all sorts of things, and, during the summer months, in transporting furs and goods between his post and the nearest dep6t. Next in rank is the interpreter. He is, for the most part, an intelli- gent laborer, of pretty long standing in the service, who, having picked up a smattering of Indian, is consequently very useful in trading with the natives. After the interpreter comes the postmaster, usually a promoted laborer, who, for good behavioi or valuable sei-vices, has been, put upon a footing with the gentle- men of the service, in the same manner that a private soldier in the army is sometimes raised to the rank of a commiBsioned officer. At whatever station a postmaster may happen to be placed, he is generally the most useful and active man there. He is often placed in charge of one of the many small stations, or outposts, throughout the country. Next are the apprentice clerks — raw lads, who come out fresh from school, with their mouths agape at the wonders they behold in Hudson Bay. They generally, for the purpose of appearing manly, acquire all the bad habits of the country as quickly as possible, and are stuffed full of what they call fun, with a strong si)ice of mischief. They become more sensible and sedate before they get through the first five years of their apprenticeship, after which they attain to the .ank of clerks. The clerk, after a number of years' service (averaging from thiiteeu to twenty) bccoaies a 10 THE HUDSON DAY COMPANY. rhipf trader (or half-sharohoUlcr), and in a few years more he attains the hij:?host rank to which any one can rise in the service, that of chief factor (or shareholder). Trade is carried on with the natives by means of a standard valuation, called in some parts of the country a castor. This ia to obviate the necessity of circulating money, of which there is little or none, excepting in the colony of Red River. Thus, an Indian arrives at a fort with a bundle of furs, with which he proceeds to the Indian trading-room. There the trader separates the furs into diflerent lots, and valuing each at the standard valuations, adds the amount together, and tells the Indian (who has looked on the while with great interest and anxiety) that he has got fifty or sixty castors ; at the same time he hands the Indian fifty or sixty little bits of wood in lieu of cash, so that the latter may know, by returning these in pay- ment of the goods for which ho really exchanges his skins, how fast his funds decrease. H The Indian then looks round upon the bales of cloth, powder-horns, gims, blankets, knives, Ac., with which the shop is filled, and after a good while makes up his mind to have a small blanket. This being given him, the trader tells him that the price is six castors. The purchaser hands back six of his little bits of wood, and selects something else. In this way he goes on till all liis wooden cash is expended, and then, packinj]^ up his goods, departs to show his treasures to his wife, and .mother Indian t.ikes his place. The value of a cTCStor is from one to two shillings. The natives generally visit the establishments of tho Company twice a year; once^*- October, when they bring in the produce of their autumn bunfa^ and again in March, when they come in with that of th» great winter hunt. The number of castors that an Indian makes in a winter liunt varies from fifty to two hundred, according to his per- severance and activity, and the part of the country in which he lumts. The largest amount I ever heard of was made by a man called Piaquata-Kiscum, who brought in furs on one occa- rion to the value of two hundi*ed and sixty castors. The poor fellow was soon afterwards poisoned by his relatives, who were jealous of his superior abiUties as a hunter, and envious of the favor shown him by the white men. After the furs are collected in spring at all tlie different out- posts, they are packed in conveniently-sized bales, and forwarded by meuiii^ of boats and canoes to the three chief depots on the N> BISTORT OP VANCOUVER ISLAND. a searcoost — namely, Fort Vancouvor, at tho mouth of the Columbia River, on the shorcH of the Pacific ; York Fort, on the shores of Hudson liay; and Moose Factory, on the shores of James Bay, whence t\wy are traiTBportcMl in tho Company's ships to England. The whole country in simimer is, conse- quently, in commotion with the pa8aingjind refMiasing of brigades of boats, laden with bales of merchandiHO and furs ; the still waters of the lakes and rivers are rippled by the paddle and the oar; and the long-silent echoes, which have slumbered in the icy embrace of a dreary winter, are now once more awakened by the merry voice and tuneful song of the hardy voyageur, .r— JALLAKTYNfi's ''Uudsoti Bay." j^«i_i-;tijil- -^m^s^. -i?- VIKW OS VICIOBIA. fliSTORY OF VANCOUVER ISLAND. The history of Vancouver Island is brief Cook, as we hav« seen, sailed along its coast in 1776, communicated with the 12 HISTORY OF VANCOUVER ISLANP. natives, and anchored in Nootka Sound, believing the island to form part of the Continent of America. Two years afterwards, a company of London merclfnts, at the head of which was a Mr. Meares, formed a isi ttlcment there, with the intention of tradinj» with China. Their vessels were, however, seized by the SpaTiiar*!^, v.ho laid claim to all the west coast of America south of latitude 60°. On this, a fleet assembled at Spithead, and war was about to be decluird villi Si)ain, when she made the required concfssiona, and i*- Vmnified the merchants for their loss, virtually a> iiidoning her claims. Captain VanccvVer, of the Royal Navy, being sent out to receive tlie transfer. He afterwards explored its coasts, and made the discovery of its insular character. It has properly, therefore, been called after him. It was visited the same year by Quadra, by whose name it was also for some time known. Men-of-war, cmising in the Pacific, occasionally touched there, as did whalers, and it was occasionally resorted to by the servants of Puget Sound and Hudson Bay Companies, to collect furs; but no interest whatever was taken in it by the public generally. However, in 1849, the Hudson Bay Company succeeded in obtaining a lease of the island for ten years, on the condition of colonizing it, the Imperial Government reserving the right of resuming authority over it at the termination of that period on repaying to the Company the sums they had expended in their attempt to settle it. In 1858. gold was discovered in the neighboring territory, of New Caledonia, as it was then called ; and as numerous strangers had begun to flock to the shores of Van- couver, on their way to the gold mines, the Government resumed their right, and created it into a colony in 1859, New Caledonia being created into a colony at the same time, under the name of British Columbia. At that period the whole population of Vancouver — men, women, and children — did not exceed 500, chiefly servants of the Hudson Bay Company. Thai Company, however, sent in a bill to the Government for cash expended in colonization of £162,071 8s. 3d., so that each person cost the nation £330.^ Mr. Douglas, an officer of the Hudson Bay Company, who had been acting as governor, was appointed first goveri^op under the crown. The governor is assisted by a nominated council, and an assembly, elected by the inhabitants holding twenty acres and upwards of land. Origmally, the number of representatives was onl^ seven; but it has recently been in- £ C G 1 C e c 1 ii ' R i^x BISTORT OP VANCOUVEA ISLASD. 18 creased to fifteen, and an executive council granted. Until within a few years back, our chief knowledge of this large island was derived from the rough surveys of Captain Van- couver, who thus describes the southern end : — " The serenity of the climate, the innumerable pleasing landscapes, and the abundant fertility that unassisted Nature puts forth, require only to be enriched by the industry of man, with villages, mansions, cottages, and other buildings, to render it the most lovely country that can be imagined, whilst the labors of the inhabitants would be amply rewarded in the bounties which Nature seems ready to bestow on cultivation." Other surveyors, from time to time, added a little to the general stock of knowledge, yet very impeifcct, till the English Government sent out H.M.S. JHlumjm', Captain G. H. Richards, by whom the coasts of the island have been thoroughly surveyed, although part of the interior still remains to be explored. The island may be described as consisting of a central moun- tain ridge, which attains at Mount Arrowsmith an elevation of 5,900 feet, with various spurs branching off to the coast on either hand, their sides clothed with the gigantic Douglas plnr and other fine trees ; while rich well- watered valleys and undu- lating prairies, precipices, and hills, and wild rocks rising out of the ground, often surrounded by superb oaks, whose branches afford a grateful shade in the heat of summer, beautifully diversify the scenery. The outline of the coast is bold and romantic in the extreme, its chief features being lofty promontories, rocky cliffs, bays, inlets, sheltered coves, and pebbly beaches, with harbors where ships can at all times find shelter ; indeed, in few spots on the earth's surface can more pictuftsque scenery be found, while from its geographical position, its great fertility, and the ex- cellence of its harbors, it will undoubtedly play no u&important part in the future history of the Pacific. Added to its other advantages, it guards, as it were, the western portal to that great intercolonial high-road now forming through British North America, to be developed hereafter into a railway across the whole continent , . -^British North Amei'ica, 14 THJf FISU£RIE8 OF BRITIUU COLUHDIA. II GOLD DIQOINU Itl BIllTISH COLUMBIA. THE FISHERIES OF BRITISH COLUJMBIA. In common v^ith the whole of the seas, gulfs, bays, rivers, and lakes of the entire district and coast, the Fraser swarms with proTIigious quantities of fish. Indeed, in the harbors, herrings are literally raked into the canoes by means of a flat piece of board, sixteen or eighteen feet long, and about two and a-half inches broad, studded with a dozen tenpenny nails. In this rude manner an Indian will fill his canoe in an hour or two ; and the traveller along the banks of the shallower streams may catch the salmon in his hands, or ''gaff" them from the bank with Iiis walking-stick. The herrings closely resemble the ordiMry Scotch herring, though somewhat smaller in size; but of the salmon there are no less than four variSlies — three,differing from the English variety, but all, with the exception of the hump-backed salmon, of excellent quality and flavor. About the middle of July these salmon begin to ascend the streams from the sea, in immense sh^ls. Whether it is that the temperature of the coast region is- too mild for the proper deveicJpment of the ova, or that, near the entrance of rivers, they would be more liable to be devom'ed by fish of prey; certain it is that Nature has implante^l in these creatures an extraordinary desire to reach i 111 THE riRRinilCS OF BBITtSK COLTTKBTA. 15 the head sources of the various streams, which they rosign only with their Uvea " Onward they speed. The impetuous current is breasted, rapids are imRsed, caiiVltdes leaped. Onward, onward ! The shal- low waters are reached ; but still they press forward, wrigglinp through meSRdering streams, too scant for swimminj^. Onward, onward, ever onward ! while myriads are left upon the strand, and die still struggling onwards. The tish are, upon entering the nouth of a river, in tolerably good order; but aficr travelling up streum a few hundred miles they become poor — poor indeed. The skin, broken and abrased, loses its brightness, often bocomes a deep pink, and robbed of its silvery scales; the head disfigured from blows and falls upon the rocks; the fins torn and divi^led in their effoits to force through spots too shallow ; the eyes, once so bright, are now sunken and lusffeless. None of these poor salmon ever descend the river again, but perish.'*^ The bodies of these fish tamt the air for miles around; unlil, with the autumnal rains, they are again set afloat and swept back into the ocean. The fry, however, remain in the mountains until the following spring, when they descend more leiflTirely to the sea, where they are saidjto remain for four years. In all probability^^jt is their immunity from danger amid these mountain fastnesses which thus recruits so prodigious a wasto by Jiot less prodigious supplies. Nevertheless, from somo unassigned cause, there is a dearth of salmon every fourth year throughout the rivers; and, as it furnishes the staple food of the whole native population, thej' would all miserably perish but for another curious phenomenon. Every fourth year, when the salmon fail, we are told that the country swarms with rabbits, which are used as a sul^itute. Besides herrings and salmon, there are immense quantities of cod, bass, mackerel, flounder, skate, sole, halibut, and sardines. Sturgeon, sometimes exceeding 500 pounds in weight, are found at the entrance of» the various rivers, and in the larger inland lakes. The harbors and coast abound with oysters, a very large and excellent description of crayfish, crabs, mussels, and other shell-fish — excepting, however, lobsters; while the thou- sand lakes with which the interior is studded possess trout, pike, perch, carp, eels, and a white-fish from two to six pounds a-piece, found also in the great lakes on the east side of the Kocky Moimtains, and said to be the only description of fish of which the palate does not grow weary. '^Edinburgh lieview* 6 tHiS CHINOOK INDIANS. f i! H . THE CHINOOK INDIANS, The Chinook.? evincw very little taste, in compariHon with Bome of the triUes on the eastern side of the Rocky Mountains^ in ornamenting either their persons or their warlike^ or dornostic impl^cnts. . The only iiti!nHil8 I saw at all cre(JitJil)lc to their decorative skill were carved bowls and spoons of horn, and baskets made of roots and grass, woven so closely as to servo all the purposes of a pail, in holding and caiTy'ng "water. In those thoy even boil tlKit- lish. This is done by immersing the fish in one of the baskets filled with water, into which they throw red-hot stones until the fish is cooked; and I have s(!en fish dressed as exfKitfiliously by them in this way as if done in a k(jttlo over the lire by our own people. The only vegetables in use among them are the camas and wappatoo. The camas is a bulbous root, much resembling the onion in outward a])pear- ance, but is more like the potato when cooked, and is very good )(eating.X Thenwappatoo is somewhat similar, but larger, and not sc *fy or delicate in its flavor. They are found in inmiense quantities in the plains, in the vicinity of Fort V^ancouver, and in the spring of the year present a most curious and beautiful appearance, the whole surface presenting an miinteirupted sheet of bright ultra^naiine blue, from the innumerable blossoms of these plants. They are cooked by digging a hole in the ground, then putting down a layer of hot stones, covering them with dry grass, on which the roots are placed: they are then covered with a layer of grass, and on the top of this they place earth, with a small hole peiforated through the earth and grass, down to the vegetables. Into this the v/ater is poured, which, reach- ing the hot stones, forms sufiicient steam to comi)letely cook the roots in a short time, the hole being immediately stopjicd up on the introduction of the water. They often adopt the same ingenious process for cooking their fish and game. During the season the Chinooks are engagej^ in gathering camas and in fishing; they live in lodges constructed by means of a few poles covered with mats made of ni.shes, which can bo easily moved from place to place; but in the villages they build permanent huts of split cedar boards. Having bel?fcted a dry place for tlie hut, a hole is dug about three feet deep and about twenty feet square. Round the sides square cedar ])Oinds are ..link, and fastened together with cords and twisted roots, rising about louv fout above the outer level : a pD^t Is sunk at tho I % THE LOST HUHTEll. IT midclle of each end, vith a crotch at the top, on which the ridge pole is laid, and boards are laid from thence to the top of the upright boards, fastened in the same manner. Round the interior are erected sleeping places, one above another, some- thing like the berths in a velisel, but larger. In the centre of this lodge the fire is made', and the smoke escapes through a hole left in the roof for that purposf^ The fire is obtained by means of a small flat piece of dry cedar, in which a small hollow is cut, with a channel for the ignited charcoal to run over ; on this piece the Indian sits to hold it Ht(3ady, while he rapidly twirls a round stick of the same wood between the ])alms of his hands, with the point [irossed into the hollow of the flat i)iece. In a very short time .sparks begin to fall through the channel upon finely-frayed cedar bark placed underneath, which they soon iglRte. There is great knack in doing this, but those who are used to it will light a fire in a very short time. The men usually carry these sticks about with them, as, after they have been once used they pro- duce fire more quickly. ^..^ The only native warlike instruments I have seen amongst them were bows and aiTOWs ; these they use with great precision. Their canoes are hollowed out of the cedar by fire, and smoothed off with stone axes. Some of them are very large, as the cedar grows to an enormous size in this neighborhood. They are made very light, and from their formation are capable of with- standing very heavy seas. The Chinooks have tolerably good horses, and are fond of racing, at which they also bet considerably. They are expert jockeys, and ride fearlessly. — Paul Kane's " Wamteringa of cm Artist among the Iridiana of North America." THR LOST HUNTER NumVd by the piercing, freezing air, And burden'd by hia game, The hunter, struggling with desi)air, Dragg'd on his shivering frame ; The rifle, he had shoulder'd late, Was trail'd along, a weary weight j B 18 ilVl LOST HUNTER. <# i: ii K. His pouch was void of food ; The hours were speeding in their flight, And soon the long keen winter night Would wrap the solitude. Oft did he stoop a listening ear, Sweep round an anxious eye, — No bark or axe-blow could he hear, No human trace descry ; His sinuous path, by blazes wound Among trunks group'd in myriads round, Through naked boughs, between Whose tangled architecture, fraught With many a shape, grotesquely wrought, The hemlock's spire wafe seen. An antler'd dweller of the wild . Had met his eager gaze, jind far his wandering steps beguil'd Within an unknown maze j Stream, rock, and run-way he had cross'd Unheeding, till the marks were lost By which he used to roam ; And now deep s'Vjiramp and wild ravin And rugged moux|(tains were between The Hunter amd his home. A dusky haze, which slow had o'fept On high, now darken'd tlii^j^R, And a few snow-flakes fluttirfing swept Athwart the thick gravi'air. Faster and faster, till be^een The trunks and boughs, a*mottkd screen Of glimmering motes was spread, That ticked against each object round With gentle and continuous sound, Like brook o'er pebbled bed. The laurel tufts, that drooping hung Close roU'd around their steins. And the sear biech-leaves still that clung, Were white with powdering gems. But hark ! afar a sullen moan Swelled out to louder, deeper tone, t THE LOST HUNTEB. 19 '''^ As surging near it paRs'd, And bursting with a roar, and shock That made the groaning forest rock, On rushed the winter blast. As o'er it whistled, shriek'd, andhiss'd. Caught by its swooping wings, Tlie snow was whirl'tl to eddying mist, Barb'd, as it seem'd, with stings \ And now 'twas swept with lightning flight Above the loftiest hemlock's height, Like drifting smoke, and now It hid the air with shooting clouds, And robed the trees with circling shrouds, Then dash'd in heaps below. Here, plunging in a hijlowy wreath, There, clinging ^>iCwta||yb» ' The suffering hunteSHpd^^^''^**'^? Brain reel'd, and ej^grew Iftnji/j As though to whelm him in despair, Rapidly changed the blackening air To murkiest gloom of night, Till naught was seen around, below. But falling flakes and mantled snow, That gleam'd in ghastly white. At every blast an icy dart Seem'd through his nerves to fly, The blood was fi-eezing to his heart— - Thought whisper'd he must die. The thundering tempest echoed death. He felt it in his tightea'd breath ; Spoil, rifle, dropp'd ; and slow As the dread torpor crawling canie Along his staggering, stifl'ening frame. He sunk upon the snow. Keason forsook her shatter'd throne, — He deem'd that summer hours Again around him brightly shone In sunshine, leaves, and flowers; Again the fresh, green, forest-sod, Riflo in hand, he lightly trod, — 20 THE LOST HUNTER. ► D I f He heard the deer's low bleat; Or, crouch'd within the shadowy nook. Was lulled by music of the brook That murmur'd at his feet. It changed ; — his cabin roof o'erspread, Rafter, and wall, and chair, Gleam'd in the crackling fire, that shed Its warmth, and he was there; His wife had clasp'd his hand, and now Her gentle kiss was on his brow. His child was prattling by; The hoimd crouch'd dozing near the blaze, And, through the pane's frost-pictured haze, Hs saw the white drifts fly. That pass'd ; — before his swimming sight Does not a figure bound ? And a soft voice, with wild delight, Proclaim the lost is found 1 No, hunter, no ! 'tis but the streak Of whirling snow — the tempest shriek — No human aid is near ! Never again that form will meet Thy clasp'd embrace; those accents sweet Speak music to thine ear ! Mom broke; — away the clouds were chased, The sky was pure and bright. And on its blue the branches traced Their webs of glittering white. Its ivory roof the hemlock stoop'd, The pine its silvery tassel droop'd, Down bent4he burden'd wood; And, scatter'd round, low points of green, Peering above the snowy scene. Told where the thickets stood. • » In a deep hollow, drifted high, A wave-like heap was thrown, Dazzlingly in the sunny sky A diamond blaze it shone; The little snow-bird, chirping sweety Dotted it o'er with trij)ping feet; A rEHALK OBUSOa. 'i\ f t Unsullied, smooth, and fair. It seemed like other mounds, where trunk And rock amid the wreaths were sunk, But, O ! the dead was there. Spiing came with wakening breezes bland, Soft suns, and melting rains; And, touch'd by her Ithuriel wand, Earth burst its winter chains. In a deep nook, where moss and grass And fern-leaves wove a verdant mass, Some scatter'd bones beside; — A mother, kneeling with her child. Told by her tears and wailings wild. That there the lost had died. — A. B. Street A FEMALE CRUSOE. »Onf of t^ earliest travellers on the oi?^rla5rfl?oute, in search ol the nortffwestfpassage, was Mr. Heame,*who, diflliig the years from 1769 to 1771, made 'three several journeys to warck the Copper-mine river, m full explbtation of finding a northern ocean, the existence of which, it was inferred, would establish the fact of a sea route north of the great Ameffcan continent. In those journeys he encountered the most frightful perilfc and underwent astonishing hardships, and he manif^ted un- pariCHeled fortitude in contending against them. The third journey to some extent established the fact, the verificalion of which was the chief object of his expeditions, and moreover cor- rected some important errors in the reports of preceding explorers.^ But we have nothing to*Bay on that subject here. Mr. Heame's expeditions have long been a dead letter ; and wc refer to them only for the purpose of introducing an epfeode ic his adventures which strikes us as affording, perhaps, the most remarkable instance of female resources and self-reliance ever recorded. When Mr. Heame, with a company of Indian guides, was travelling in the arctic circle, not far from the Lake Athapus- cow, one of the guides came suddenly upon the track of a strange snow-shoe. Astonished at the sight, in a region supposed to br hundreds of miles from any human habitation, the Indians fol- 39 A PEMALB CHU80V, |. ' i lowed up the track, and after purRuin;; it for flome distance, arrived at a .small Iiut or cabin, formed of suow and driftwood^ where the y discovered a young woman sitting alone. She under- stood th< ir langiinge, and did not need much pcrsulTsion to induce her to return with them to the traveller's tent. Here, on being interfflgated, she told her story ; when it came out that she was a native of the tribe of Dog-ribbed Indians, who were, or bad been, at feud with the Athapusoans, and that at an inroad of the latter, during the summer of 1770, she had been taken prisoner and carried off to slavery. > In the follow- ing summer, when the Athapuscan Indians were travelling the country, she watched her opportunity, and, on arriving near the place where she was found, managed one night to give thom the slip, intending to find her way back to her own people. In this however, she was disappointed. She had been carried away in a canoe, and the twistings and windings of the river were so many and intricate, and so often intersected each other, and there were so many lakes and marshes, that she found it impossible to pursue her route. In this dilemma, instead of resigning herself to despair, she set about building a dwelling for a shelter during the winter, and having completed it, she calmly took up her abode and commenced her solitary housekeeping. She had kept an account of all the moons that had passed; and from this it appeared that for seven *nonths she had not seen a human face, and had subsisted in this desolate region en- tirely by her own unaide structed not only her dress, but a pair of jsubstahtial snow shoes, and several other useful articles. The keeping up her fire had given her most trouble. With two sulphu?bus stones she could, by dint of violent friction and contintlous pounding, raise a few sparks so as to kindle a hand- ful of loose fibPfes of wood carefully picked small ; but the; labor was wearisome and long ; and to avoid the necessity of it, she had not suffered her fire to be extinguished for many months. She was never idle. When fatigued with the toils of the chase, or when §he was not under the necessity of hunting, she occu- pied herself in peeling off the inner bark of the willow trees with which the spot abounded, and twisting it into a species of twine. Of this sort of line she had already accumulated several hundreds of fathoms in length; and it was her intention to make of them a capacious net for fishing, as soon as the frost should break up and the streams become practicable. Of this remarkable female, Mr.*Heame, in his journal, says* " She was one of the finest women I have seen in any part of North America." It would seem that his Indian guides were of the same opinion ; and that, while they admired her for the comeliness of her person, they were by no means insensible of the value of her multifarious accomplishments. There was not a man among them who did not desire to have her for his wife , so, according to the custom of their tribe, they put her up to competition, and wi-estled in the ring for her — the strongest, after he had overthrown all the rest, having her duly assigned to him. We might add a whole volume of reflections upon the cheerful, active, womanful spirit of this female Crusoe, uncivilized as she was, as contrasted with the desponding helplessness which we too often witness among women, and men too, who, with every mdtive to industry and activity, and every encouragement to exert both, lose all self-reliance imder the first shock of adver- sity, and pass their days in useless indolence and repining. We forbear, however : such a history is better without a set moral, and carries its own comment. — Leisure U(mr, \ BBHl 24 tU£ W0LV£K1K£. hi A MARTEN TRAP. THE WOLVERINE. « The fiir-hunter'» greatest enemy is the North American glutton, or, as he is commonly called, the wolverine or carcajou. This curious animal is rather larger than an English fox, with a long body, stoutly and coirfpactly made, mounted on exceedingly short legs of great stren^^th. His broad feet are armed with powerful claws, and his track in the snow is as large as the print of a man's fist. The shape of his head, and his hairy coat, give him very much the appearance of a shaggy brown dog. During the winter months he obtains a liveliHood by availing himself of the labors of the trapper, and such seflbus injury does he inflict, that he has received from the Indians the name of Kekwaharkess, or the "Evil One." With untiring perse- verance he hunts day and night for the trail of man, and when it is found, follows it unerringly. When he comes to a lake, where the track is generally drifted over, he continues his untiring gallop round its borders, to discover the point at which it again enters the woods, and again follows it until he arrives at one of the wooden traps. Avoiding the door, he speedily tears open an entrance at the back, and seizes the bait witJbi THR WOLYBRINE. 25 im^nity , or if the trap contains an animal he drags it out, and, with wanton malevolence, mauls it and hides it at some distance in the underwood, or at the top oi" some lofty pine. Occasionally, when hard pressed by hunger, he devours it. In this manner he derilblishes the whole series of traps, and when once a wolverine has established himself on a trajiping walk, the hunter's only chance for success is to change ground, and build a fresh lot of traps, trusting to secure a few furs before the new path is found out by his industrious enemy. Strange stories are related by the trappers of the extraor- dinary cunning of this animal, which they believe to pos.sess a wisdom almost human. He is never caught by the ordinary "dead-fall." Occasionally one is poisoned, or caught in a steel trap; but his strength is so great, that many traps strong enough to hold securely a large wolf will not retain the wolve- rine. When caught in this way, he does not, like the fox and the mink, proceed to amputate the limb, but, assisting to carry the trap with his mouth, makes all haste to reach a lake or river, where he can hasten forward at speed, unobstructed by trees and fallen wood. After travelling far enough to be tolei-ably - safe from pursuit for a time, he devotes himself to the extii- cation of the imprisoned limb, in which he not unfrequently succeeds. The wolverine is also Sometimes killed by a gun, placed leaning on a bait, to which is attached a string communi- cating with the trigger. La Konde assured us most solemnly that on several occasions the carcajou had been far too cunning for him, first approaching the gun and gnawing in two the cord communicating with the trigger, and then securely devouring the bait. In one instance, when every device to deceive his persecutor had been at once seen through, and utterly fufile, he adopted the plan of placing the gun'in a tree, with the muzzle pointing vertically downwards upon the bait. This was suspended from a branch, at such a height that the animal could not reach it without jumping. The gun was fastened high up in the tree, completely screened from view by the branches. Now, the wolverine is an animal troubled with exceeding curiosity. He investigates everything; an old moccasin thrown aside in the bushes, or a knife lost in the snow, are ferreted out and examined, and anything suspended almost out of reach generally offers an irresistible temptation. But in the case related by La Bx)adie« the carcajou restrained his curiosity and hunger for 26 DESTRUCTION OF THB RED RIVER COLONT. r the time, climberl tlie troe, cut the cords which bound the gun, which thus tumbled harmless to the ground, and then, descend- ing, secured the bait without danger. Poison and all kinds of traps having already failed, La Konde was fairly beaten and driven off the ground. — Lord Milton's and Db. Cheadle's *^Travel$" DESTRUCTION OF THE RED RIVER COLONY BY THE N' RTH-WEST COMPANY. The North- West party, consisting chiefly of half-breeds, had been* augmented to upwards of 300 strong, all mounted on horseback, and armed with various | weapons, such as guns, spears, and^ tomahawks, or bows and arrows. They were painted like (demons, their heads plumed, and they rushed to the strife with a yell which gave fatal warning to the industri- ous but half-starved colonists of the danger that threatened them. At the ^-critical period to which we have brought our narrative, these daring (marauders had ^penetrated through the very heart of the Hudson T^y Company's territories, as far as the shores of the Atlantic, which reach Hudson Bay, and in their grasping (propensities set at defiance every legal restraint and moral obligation. They pillaged their lopponents or destroyed their establishments, as suited their views at the time, and, not unfrequently, kept armed parties marauding from post to post. It was one of these bands, numbering about bixty-five persons, that advanced against the infant colony on the fatal 19th of June, when a^rencontre took place, in which twenty-one lives were lost, the flower of the Red River colo- nists strewing the field, like the slain on the morning of Chevy Chase. The particulars of this conflict arc briefly as follows : — The approach of the enemy was announced by the women and children of the settlers, who were seen nmning from place to place in alarm, seeking protection, and crying out that the settlers were made prisoners. On this, it appears, Governor Semple, who was Govemor-in-chief of the Hudson Bay Com- pany's territories, with several other gentlemen and attendants, walked out to meet the strangers, no wt discerned to be a party of half-breeds and Indians, all mounted and armed. Their uia\^atha's sailing. 27 ho5!tile purpo.se bfiii? manifost, tho govornor and his party haltc^l, and were seen in a group, as if consiilting togiither, while the Inh\.('v, in those rcnoarchoH, atid in ('luloavorH to turn them to account. About 1504, Honio J JH, Jacques Cartior, — mc^n- tioned l)efore as touching on Newfoundland, — after visiting parts of that island, crossed tho gulf on its western side, and passing by Anticosti, sailoiJ up a mighty river, the St. Lawrence, to tlio site of the present city and fonrofin of Quebec. With him waa ii FOl'M/lWU or Till. -OKTII AMEHK'AN rnhftSIV.i. 91 I Khorily nClfirw.iiiln joirHxl IIoIktvhI, cornrniHrtiorKMl hy tl..i court. in plan'. ;i <(»lf) »nu<:h occu- pifMl willi civil iliMHiiTTMionM witliiri hcrowii bonlciu Thin in'-rna! Hinconl hiiu^ l*roii^hfc (-<» an cni| hy tJm uhivation of lltriiy IV to the Uirf»ri«!, att^^niioii wan a; fonricd aniTcahlc <;oafc(i«!mci«)H with thoni, or hunihhid th(!m in war hy.tho Htip'-rior Hcicncc of lpli<'H from 10urojM% and conUtHtH with thenativoH — the infant colony took root, under th 1634, two hundred persons oT that faith took possession of this beautiful country, to avoid the dissflSilities which had pressed hard upon them in a Protestant nation. Carolina, called after Charles II., was first occupied by persons who had fled from the severe Puritan rule of Massachusetts, whose numbers were largely augmented by English emigrants furnished with lavish grants of land from the King. It was at a much later period that William Penn, who was a creditor of the government to the amount of XI 6,000, received in payment an immense tract of country stretching indefinitely infani, and bounded on the east by the Delaware river, and so was founded the Quaker state of Pennsylvania. The territory of the now important Sta i,e of New York was first explored by the discoverer, Henry Hudson, whose name is perpetuated in the magnificent river which American toumts know so well. Its commencement as a colony was, however, by the Dutch, and for half a century it acknowledged the sovereignty of Holland, when it was conquered and added to the dominion which prevailed in the adjoining states. New Hampshire and Maine wei'e originally planted by some earnest adherentS^floyalty and of the Church of England, but these characteristics were soon swamped by accessions from Massachusetts, under the sway of whose government the colony at length fell. — Fedley's *^ Hittori/ o/ NewJomuUcmd," I THE GREAT AUK. W It appears that the Great Auk, a noble bird nearly three feet m length, is on the point of becoming extinct, if, indeed, it be not already a thing of the past. The fact of a 'arge bird thus dying out apparently in our own day, has naturally excit;ed great interest, and has led to a careful investigation of all the cii'cumstauces of the cn^it, ^ >Hai*aMM.«U..^ M^ THE GREAT AUK. 33 In early times the principal haunts of the Great Auk appear to have been the eastern coast of Newfoundland and Labrador, where they existed in immense profusion. On the Newfound- land fishing-banks the Great Auk was, two centuries ago, to be found in great abundance. Its appearance was always hailed by the mariner approaching that desolate coast as the firat indication of Iiis having reached soundings on the fishing-banks. During the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, these waters, as well as the Iceland and Faroe coasts, were annually visited by hundreds of ships from England, France, Spain-, Holland, and Portugal ; and these ships actually were accustomed to provision themselves with the bodies and eggs of these birds, which they found breeding in myriads on the low islands off the coast of Newfoundland. Besides the fresh birds consumed by the ships* crews, many tons were salted down for future use. In the space of an hour, these old voyagers tell us, they could fill thirty boats with the birds. It was only necessary to go on shore, armed with sticks, to kill as many as they chose. The birds weie so stupid that they allowed themselves to be taken up on their own proper element by boats under sail ; and it is even said that on putting out a plank, it was possible to drive the Great Auks up out of the sea into the boats. On land the sailors formed low enclosures of stones into which they drove, the birds, and as they were unable to fly, kept them there enclosed till they were wanted for the table. It is said, too, that as the birds were fat and burnt well, they w;ere actually used for fuel, as the dried bodies of the Auks and Guillemots are still employed on the Westermann Islands. As may be supposed, this wholesale slaughter of the birds jjpeedily reduced their numbers, and there is no certain informa- jion that any individuals of the species have been seen on those coasts during the present century. The last known breeding- places of the bird are two isolated rocks, extremely difficult of access, oft' the south coast of Iceland; and at long intervals, some- time* of ten or fifteen years, a few individuals have been obtained thence, up to the year 1844. In that year a pair of birds, male and female, were shot at thcii- nest on a little islet near to one of the forme i- breeding-places, and since that time, not- ^thstanding that tho most careful search has everywhere been made for it, the Great Auk has nowhere been seen alive. It is conjectiu'ed that the bird may still be an inhabitant of the inaccessible shores of Kast Greenland, though none of the V ^ V A \ Vn 34 II VOYAGE OF THE GOLDEN HIND. vessels passing that way ever come across it, nor has it ever been seen by any of tlie Arctic exploring expeditions. It may, of course, yet be discovered on some part of that ice- bound coast; but it is by no means improbable that the Great Auk has now ceased to exist, and has thus taken the place, till now occupied by the Dodo, of the last in the series of extin; < hirda. — ^^ Links in the Chain." THE VOYAGE OF THE GOLDEN HIND. Impoverished by these disasters, it was not till the patent had nearly expired, that Sir Humphrey procured the means to equip another expedition. With the assistance of Raleigh, no\< in high favor with the Queen, he coLected a fleet of five ships. "We were in all," says the chroiiicler of the voyage, "two hundred and sixty men; among whom we had of every faculty good choice; as shipwrights, masons, carpenters, smiths, and Buch like, requisite to such an action; also mineral men, and refiners. Besides, for solace of o\u' own people, and allurement of the savages, we were provided with music in good variety; ver It ce- eat till If N :^ f 'OYAOE or THE GOLDEN HINT). 35 not omittinf* the best toys for morris-dancers, hobby-horses, and many like conceits." Before Gilbei*t sailed, on the 11th of June, 1583, the Queen sent him a jewel, representing an "anchor guided by a lady," as a token of regard. In spite of the desertion of the barque which Raleigh had equipped, the fleet reached Newfoundland in safety by the end of July. The first glirnpse of the coast — a bleak stretch of rocks looming through a dense fog — was disheartening; but a more favored spot was soon after reached, where the weary mariners were charmed with the sight of fresh green foliage, bright flowers, and berry-bearing jilants. It was just at the close of the fishing season, of wliich they observed a significant sign in the "incredible multitude of sea-fowl hovering over the banks, to prey upon the oflal of fish thrown away by the fishermen." They were well received by the ships of various nations at St, John's. Sir Humphrey at once landed, took formal possession of the country in the name of the queen, amid a sal^ of ordnance from the vessels in the anchorage, and gave grants of land to various persons. Disaffection, unfortunately, broke out among his crew, one half of whom returned to England. With the rest he set out to explore the coast towards the south. He sailed in his little ten ton cutter, the Squirrel; the largest ships, the Ddvjld and the Golden Hitidf following as near the shore as they dared. The summer was spent in examining all the creeks and bays, noting the soundings, taking the bearings of every possible har- bor, and carefully surveying the rugged coast, at great risk of destructiomijl The admiral was satisfied with the appearance of the land. A lump of ore which was picked up was pronounced by the mineral men to be silver, to the delight of the crew. One night, towards the end of August, there were signs of a gathering storm, though the weather was fair and pleasantr> It was afterwards remembered that "like the swan, that singeth before her death, they in the Delight continued in the sounding of drums and trumpets and fifes, also the winding of cornets and haughtboys, and in the end of their jollity, left with the battell and ringing of doleful bells." Two days after, the tem- pest broke upon thenL The Delight, the largest vessel in the fleet, struck upon a rock, and went down in sight of the other vessels, which were unable to render any help. A large store of provisions, and Sir Humphrey's papers, were lost. The Hind and the Squirrel, which had made a narrow escape, were now alone. The weather continued boisterous; winter had fairly get > 36 VOTAOR OF TH£ GOLDEN HIND. in, and the cold became more cruel. Provisions rtmning shorty both crews were put on short allowance, and used to condole with each other by signs, pointing to their mouths, and exhibit- ing their thin and tattered clothes. Not without much pressure from his men, Sir Humphrey was persuaded to abandon his explorations for the present, and to return to England. He did his best to cheer the drooping spirits of his companions, yoing from one vessel to the other "making merry;" speaking )iopefully of future expeditions to Newfoundland, and declaring that, on hearing what had been done, the Queen would provide the money for another voyage. Those in the Golden Hind besought him not to expose himself to shipwreck in a vessel so slight, frail, and overloaded as the Squirrel; but he refused to quit the men with whom he had already passed through so many storms and perils. Soon afterwards the weather became dark and lowering. The sailors, oppressed with a vague sense of coming ill, declared that they heard strange voices in the aii*, and belu'ld fearful shapes flitting around the ship. The seas were more "outrageous" than the oldest mariner had ever known before. "On Monday, the 9th September," says Hayes, "in the afternoon, the frigate was near cast away, oppressed by the waves, but at that time recovered. Gi^'ing forth signs of joy, the general sitting abaft with a book in his hand, cried out to us in the Hindj so often as we did approach within hearing, '"We are as near to heaven by sea as by land,' reiterating the same speech, — well becoming a soldier resolute in Jesus Christ, as I can testify he was. The same Monday night, about twelve of the clock, or not long after, the frigate being ahead of us in the Golden Hind, suddenly her lights went out, whereof,- as if were in a moment, we lost the sight; and withal our watch cried, 'The general is cast away ! ' which wks too true. " Thus perished Sir Humphrey Gilbert, to the end resolute in a purpose honest and godly, as was this, to discover, possess, and reduce into the service of God and Christian piety those icmote and heathen countries of America." The Golden Hind survived the storm, and bOre the tidings of the disastrous fate of the expedition to England. — British Enterprise Beyond the Sea», # ^x SIB HUMPHREY GILBERT. «7 ve in if ed, of • SIR HUMPHREY GILBERT. Southward with fleet of ice Sailed the corsair, Death ; Wild and fast blew the blast, And the east- wind was his breath. His lordly ships of ice Glistened iu the sun : On each side, liks pennons wide, Flashing crystal streamlets run. His sails of white sea-mist Dripped with silver rain ; But where he passed there were cast Leaden shadows o'er the main. Eastward from Campobello, Sir Humphrey Gilbert sailed; Three days or more seaward he bore, Then, alas ! the land-wind failed. Alas ! the land-wind failed. And ice-cold grew the nighty And never more, on sea or shore. Should Sir Humphrey see the light. He sat upon the deck. The Book was in his hand; **Do not fear ! heaven is as near," He said, "by water as by land," In the first watch of the night, "Without a signal's soimd, Out of the sea, mysteriously, The fleet of Death rose all around. The moon and the evening star Were hanging in the shrouds; Every mast, as it passed, Seemed to rake the passing clouds. fi* 38 THE MOUNTAINEER IN NEWFOUNDLAND. fi Thfiy grappled with their prize, At midnip;ht black and cold ! As of a rock was the shock ; Heavily the ground-swell rolled. Southward, through day and dark, They drift in close embrace, With mist und rain, to the Spanish Main; Yet there seems uo change of place. Southward, for ever southward, They drift through dai'k and day; And like a dream, in the Gulf Stream Sinking, vanish all away. — Longfellow. * [ THE MOUNTAINEER IN NEWFOUNDLAND. At daybreak the atmosphere was frosty, and the slender white column of smoke still more distinctly seen. There were human beings there, and, deserted as I was, I felt an irresistible desire to approach my fellow-creatures, whether they should prove friendly or hostile. Having put my gim and pistols in the best order, and no appearance of my Indian at noon, I left my knapsack and all encumbrances, and descended through thickets and marshes towards the nearest part of the lake, about two miles distant. The white sandy shore, formed of dis- integrated granite, was much trodden over by deer and other animals, but there were no marks of man discernible. The extent of the lake was uncertain; but it was apparent that it would require two days at least to walk round either end to the hearest point of the shore opposite to the occupied island. I tlierefore kept on my own side to discover who the party was. By firing off my gun, if the party were Red Indians, they would in all probability move off quickly on hearixjg the report, and they having no fire-arms, my tire would not be answered; if they were other Indians, my fire would be rotumed. I fired : by and by the report of a strange gun travelled among the islands from the direction of the smoke; and thus all my doubts and apprehensions were dispelled. The report of thie THE MOUNTAINEER IN NEWFOUNDLAND. $9 giin wns the first noise I had heard caused hy man, except by my Indian and self, for more than five weeks, and it excited very peculiar feelings. In about an hour my lost Indian unexpectedly made his appearance from the direction where we had parted on tho preceding evening, brought to the spot by the report of my gim. He accounted for himself "that after having shot a stag about two miles from the spot appointed for our encampment, he attempted to get round the west-end of the lake to reconnoitre the party on the island, but found the distance too great, and getting benighted, had slept in the woods." Soon afterwards to my great delight, there appeared among some woody islets in front, which precluded the view of the other side of the lake, a small canoe, with a man seated in the stern paddling softly towards us, with an air of serenity and independence possessed only by the Indian, After a brotherly salutation with me, and the two Indians kissing each other, the hunter proved to be unable to speak English or French. They, however, soon understood each other ; for the stranger, although a mountaineer from Labrador, could speak a little of the Micmac language, his wife being a Micmac. The mountaineer tribe belongs to Labrador, and he told us that he had come to Newfoundland, hearing that it was a better hunting country than his own, and that he was now on his way from St. George's Bay to- the Bay of Despair, to spend the winter with the Indians there. He had left St. George's Bay two months before, and expected to be at the Bay of Desj^air two weeks hence. This was his second year in Newfoundland ; he was accompanied by his wife only. My Indian told him that I had come to see the rocks, the deer, the beavers, and the Red Indians; and to tell King George wliat was going on in the middle of that country. He said St. George's Bay was about two week's walk from us if wc knew the best way; and invited us over with him in his canoe, to rest a day at his camp, where ho said he had plenty of venison, which was readily agreed to ou my part. The island, on which the mountaineer's camp was, lay about three miles distant. The varying scenery, as we paddled towards it amongst a number of islets, all of granite, and mostly covered with spruce and birch trees, was beautiful. His canoe was Bimilar to those described to have been used by the ancient Britons on the invasion of the Eomaus. It was made of 40 THE MOUNTAINEER IN NEWFOUNDLAND. rli, ^ wicker-work, covered over outside with deerskins sewed to« gether, stretched on it, nearly of the uaual form of canoes, with a bar or beam across the middle, and one at each end to strengthen it. The skin covering, flesh side out, was fastened or laced to the gunwales with thongs of the same material. Owing to decay and wear, it requires to be renewed once in from six to twelve weeks. It is in these temporary barks that the Indians of Newfoundland of the present day navigate the lakrs and rivers of the interior. They are easily carried, owing to their lightness, across the portages from one water to another, and, when damaged, easily repaired. There were innumerable granite rocks in the lake a little iibove and below t)ie surface. On one of these our canoe struck, and rubbed a holo through the half decayed skin, which was attended with some risk to our persons and guns. His wigwam was situated in the centre of a wooded islet, at which we arrived before sunset. The approach from the landing-place was by a mossy carpeted avenue formed by the trees having been cut down in that direction for firewood. The sight of a fire not of our own kindling, of which we were to partake, seemed hospitality. The wigwam was occupied by his wife, seated on a deer-skin, busy sewing together skins of the same kind to renew the outside of the canoe, which we had just found required it. A large Newfoundland dog, her only companion in her husband's absence, had welcomed us Jit the landing-place with signs of the gi-eatest joy. Sylvan happiness reigned here. His wigwam was of a semi-circular form, covered with birch-rind and dried deer ukins, the fire in the fore-groiind outside. Abundarce and neatness pervaded the; encampment. On horizontal poles over the fire ijung quantities of venison steaks, being smoke-dried. The hostess was cheerful, and a supper of the best the chase could afibrd wa^i soon set before us on sheets of birch-rind. They told me "to make their camp my own, and to use everything in it as such." Kindness so elegantly tendered by these people of nature in their solitude, commenced to soften those feelings which had been fortified against receiving any comfort except that of my own administer- ing. The excellence of the venison, and of the flesh of young bears, could not be surpassed. A cake of hard deer's fat, with scraps of suet toasted brown intermixed, was eaten with the meat; soup was the drink. Our hostess, after supper, sang several Indian songs at my request ; they were plaintive, and THE MOUNTAINEER IN NEWFOUNDLAND. 41 Bung ill a high key. The song of a female, and her contentment in this remote and secluded spot, exhibited the strange diversity there is in human r .ture. My Indian entertain(;d us inces- santly until nearly daylight with stories about what he had seen in St. John's. Our toils were for the time forgotten. The mountaineer had occupied this camp for abo\it two weeks, deer being very plentiful all round the lake. His larder, which was a kind of shed erected on the rocky shore, for the sake of a free circulation of air, was in reality a well-stocked butcher's stall, containing parts of some half-dozen fat deer, also the carcases of beavers, otters, musk-rats, and martens, all method- ically laid out. His property consisted of two guns and am* munition, an axe, some good culinary utensils of iron and tin, blankets, a number of dried deer-skins to sleep on, and with which to cover his wigwam, the latter with the hair off; a collection of skins to sell at the sea-coast, consisting of those of beaver, otter, marten, musk-rat, and deer, the last dried and the hair o£f; also a stock of dried venison in bundles. Animal flesh of every kind in steaks, without salt, smoked chy on the fire for forty-eight hours, becomes nearly as light and portable as cork, and will keep sound for years. It thus forms a good substitute for bread, anci'^by being boiled two hours recovers most of its original qualities. This lake, called Mulpegh or Crooked Lake, by the liidians, I also named in honor of Professor Jameson. It is nine or ten miles in length by from one to three in breadth, joined by a strait to another lake nearly as large, lying south-east, called Burnt Bay Lake, and is one of the chain of lakes connected by the East Bay River of the Bay of Despair, fidready noticed as running through Serpentine Lake, which forms a part of the grand route of the Indians. "We left the veteran mountaineer (James John, by name,) much pleased with our having fallen in with him. He landed us from his canoe on the south shore of the lake, and we took our departure for the westward along the south side. — Cormack's ^^Jowney Across Newfoundland." 4t 0ARLR jSLAVD. SABLE ISLAND. »ii Sable Island, famous for the disastrous attempt at colv^nizaticn madu on its inhosj)itable shores by the Marquis de la Hoc-he, in 1598, has acquired a still more painful notoncty from having been the scene and occasion of very many shipwrecks, from its lying in the direct track of vessels to and from Europe. It is about 85 miles distant from Cape Canso, and is included in tho province of Nova Scotia. Its length is about 30 miles; its breadth varies greatly, from its irregular outline, which is some- what in the form of a bow. Tho west end is in N. lat. 43° 56' 42", W. long. 60° 71' 15''; the east end in N. lat. 43° 59' 5", W. long. 59° 42'. A considerable sum of money is annually appropriated for the maintenance of an establishment on the island, consist- ing of a superintendent and assistants, with abundant supplies of every article likely to be required in case of shipwreck. This establishment was formed in 1804, and kept up at the expense of the province imtil 1827; but in the latter year the British Government undertook to furnish a sum equal to that vot'^d by the province, and the establishment has consequentl; -^en greatly enlarged, and its usefulness much increased. Itt ,os- sity ia sufficiently attested by the melancholy fact, that forty vessels were wrecked there in a few years, and in a single winter 200 people are stated to have perished on its coasts. The surface of the island (according to the statement furnished to Judge Haliburton,) is undulating; and the color is also very similar to that of the sea, from which it is not easily dis- tinguishable. Throughout its whole extent there is not a single tree or shrub, and the only productions to be found upon it are a strong, coarse gi-ass, commonly known by tho name of bent grass, or sea mat-weed, whortleberry and cranberry bushes. The grass is indigenous, ant* grows near the shore, or in low places; and the cranberry bushes are confined to the deep hol- lows, which the violence of the wind has formed by scooping out the sand, and driving it into the sea. With these exceptions, the soil, if such it can be called, consists of a naked sand, which is easily acted upon by the tempest, and drifts like snow. In some places it has formed conical hills, one of which is 100 feet high ; and, notwithstanding its exposure, and the looseness of its texture, continues to increase in bulk. After a gale of wind, human skeletons are sometimes exposed to view, and 8ABLE I8LA!n>. 4a m timber and piecos of wreck are disinterred, which have bf»en biiriod for years. From an early period there appears to have been a herd of wild cattle u})on it. The Portuguese were the first who made this humane provision for the unfortunate, by landing some calves, which increased in a few years to such an extent as to induce unprincipled men to hunt for the sake of tKeir hides and tallow, and, in some instances, to remove them alive. The disreputable nature of the employment, and the danger attend- ing a protracted visit on the island, were such, that they were not exterminated for more than a century. After this, it was again stocked, but the cattle slmred the same fate as those which had previously been placed there. At a subsequent period, a French clergyman, at Boston, named Le Mercier, who called himself an Englishman by naturalization, sent cattle thither, and proposed to remove there himself. Among the records of the province, there is an application from him to laeutenant- Goveriior Armstrong, at Annapolis, for a grant of the island, but as he declined to accept it on the terms proposed — of paying a quit-rent to the King — it was finally withheld. A proclama- tion, however, was issued by tho governor, forbidding people to kill these animals, and they continued there for many years, but at what time they were destroyed, and succeeded by the horses now upon it, is not known, nor is it ascei'tained whether the latter are the descendants of some sent there by him, or of others which have escaped from wrecks. Since the formation of the establishment, and the protection afibrded tliem by it, they have greatly increased in number. They are small, but strong and active, and endure with surprising haidihood the inclemency of the weather in winter, without any otlier shelter than that afibrded by the hillocks of sand. The south end of tire island is their general resort, on account of tlie quantity of grass on its shores, and its remoteness from the house of the superintendent. They have increased beyond their means of subsistence, and although many are killed every year to supply fresli provisions for the crews of wrecks, who are detained there until an opportunity offers for conveying them to Nova Scotia, yet several of the aged and infirm awe generally found dead every spring. They are exceedingly wild, and it is no easy matter to approach within gun-shot of them. As it is desirable that no ineffectual eflforts should be made to shoot them, and that they should not be unnecessarily maimed or wounded, great car© la 44 THE COAL FIELDS OF NOVA SCOTIA. taken by the marksman tx) secrete himself in a suitable placd until an "^nimal approaches within a convenient distance, when one shot usually suffices to kill him. ^£he young male horses are selected for slaughter, and are easily distinguished from tho aged by their superior condition, and by the size of the mane, which, in the old horses, is of extreme length, reaching nearly to their kneeSJ The meat is said to be tender, and by no means unpalatable. The island is also well stocked with English rab- bits, which make an agreeable variety in the food of the resi- dents. The nature of the soil is so peculiarly adapted to the habits of these animals, that they have multiplied astonishingly, and are prevented from becoming too numerous only by a similar increase of rats, the progeny of those that have escaped from wrecks. Great numbers of the latter perish in the course of the winter, and during the rainy weather of the spring and auiunm. Until within the last fifteen years, there waa a small "herd of wild hogs, that became exceedingly fierce. The climate, how- ever, which had always restricted their increase, finally overcame them altogether, for the whole perished during an unusually severe winter. Since that time it has not been thought advis- able to renew this species of stock, which, considering the nature of the food that shipwrecks must sometimes have unfortunately furnished them, must always have been objects of horror and disgust. During the early part of the summer, gul'.s, ducks, divers, and other wild-fowl, lay an immense quantity of Gggs on. the southern point, and a party from the house frequently sai) up the lake, and fill their boat with them. At the approach of winter these birds migrate to the Continent. — Mabtin's ^'British Colonies" THE COAL FIELDS OF NOVA SCOTIA. Coal is one of the greatest treasures which the mineral world bestows upon man. The importance of Great Britain as the manufacturing power of the world is owing in no slight degree to the vast coal-fields that keep her thousands of furnaces in full blast. Tliis valuable mineral is scattered widely over the earth s surface. Nearly every state in Europe rejoices in its own beds of coal ; it appears in India, China, and the islands of the Indian Ocean; the African isltiad of Madagascar is not destitute of it; THE COAT. FIELDS OP NOVA SCOTIA. 49 even in remote Australia it is lo bo found ; and in the southern continent of our western hemisphnre, tlio Republic of Chili is the happy possessor of coal measures. But nowhere is coal to be found in greater quantity than in Noith America. In tho U nited States the coal-fields extend from Michigan to Alabama, covering an area of nearly two hundred thousand square miles. Of greater interest to us, however, are the coal measures of our own country, which occur in Nova Scotia, Cape Breton, New Brunswick, and Prince Edward Island, and are supposed to extend as far as the Magdalen Islands. These extensive deposits of coal cover an area of 36,000 square miles, affording an almost inexhaustible supply of v/hat has been fitly termed the sinews of commercial prc::.perity. Although these coal-fields are spread over so large a part of the maritime provinces, they are generally connected with the name of Nova Scotia, because in that province they are most conspicuous. Coal is not a stone in the same sense as limestone or granite are called stones. It consists almost entirely of carbon or char- coal, and represents the remains of vegetable life, that flourished hundreds of thousands of years ago. Geologists suppose that the great coal regions of Nova Scotia and the adjoining provinces were at one time immense swamps at the mouths of great rivers, which brought down in tlieir course trunks of trees, and quan- I'ties of mud and sand, which mingled with, and overlaid, the aquatic plants growing in the swamps. The water plants and trees, decaying, furnished layers of coal, and the mud and sand constituted the shale and sandstone that lies between them. In order to illustrate this change. Sir Charles Lyell, the celebrated geologist, states that "whenever any part of a swamp in Louisiana is dried up, during an unusually hot season, and the wood set on fire, pits are burnt into the ground many feet deep," showing the combustible nature of deposits now going on. Such being the origin of coal, we shoiild naturally expect to find some traces of vegetable organization in the sti-ucture of this mineral. These, however, are not visible, as eveiybody knows, in the majority of lumps of coal that fill our stoves and fire-places. But were we to visit a coal mine, our expectation would soon be realized. On the Chignecto Channel, a branch of the Bay of Fundy, in Nova Scotia, is a line of lofty cliffs, from 150 to 200 feet in height, called the South Joggins. Tlie ap- pearance of these clifls is of the most interesting character. Alternately with shales and sa&dstunes, are to be seen the edged 46 4^ DISCOVERT OF AMERICA. of numerous Beams of ooal, varying from two inches to four feet in thickness ; and, rooting in these seams, appear petrified trunks of trees, from eight to twenty-five feet in height. Year by year, the high tides of the Bay of Fundy, which rise more than sixty feet, undermine and wear away the face of the cliffs, revealing new speci- mens of fossil vegetation. In addition to the trunks and stumps of these trees, svhich are called Sigillaria, and are unlike any at pre- sent existing in the world, the coal measures of Nova Scotia and Cape Breton abound in fossil Equisetaceae, the horse-tails or scour- ing rashes of our swamps, and other remarkable trees and plants. Each of the layers or seams of coal indicates a distinct period of vegetable life. It has hence been concluded that no fewer than fifty-nine great swamp -forests must have contributed to form the Sydney coal-field in C^ape Breton. We know, from observation, how slowly the formation ot coal is going on at the present day ; how great, therefore, must be the period of time that has dapsed since the first of these forests rose'from the silent swamp, fell before the power of the watercourse, and be- came tJie foundation of fifty-eight successive beds, repeating the story of its own existence ! — GamphelVs Fourth lUdder. DISCOVERY OF AMERICA. Next morning, being Friday, the 3d day of August, in the yeai 1492, Columbus set sail, a little before sunrise, in nrcicnce of a vast crowd of spectators, who sent up their si; ■ jations to Heaven for the prospeirous issue of the voyage, whic. iliey wished rather than expected. As they proceeded, the indications of approaching land seemed to be more certain, and excited hope in proportion. The birds began to appear in flocks, making towards the south-west. Co- lumbus, in imi^tion of the Portuguese navigators, who had be?n guided in several of their discoveries by the motion of birds, 'altered his course from due west towards that quarter whither they pointed their flight. But, after holding on for several days in this new direction withr'it any better success than. formerly, having seen no object diiri: g thirty days but the sea and the sky, the hopes of his companions subsided faster than they had risen ; their fears revived with additional fcrce ; impatience, rage, and despair appeared in every countenance. All sense of suljor dination was lost. The officers, who had hitherto concurred with f DISCOVERY OF AMSRIOA. 4T Columbus in opinion, and supported his authority, now took part with the private men ; thoy assembled tumultuously on the deck, expostulated with their commander, mingled threats with their exposTulations, and required him instantly to tack about, and return to Europe. Columbus perceived that it would be of no avail to have recourse to any of his former arts, which, having been tried so often, had lost their effect ; and that it was impos- sible to rekindle any zeal for the success of the expedition among men in whose breasts fear had extinguished every generous senti- ment. He saw that it was no less vain to think of emi)loying either gentle or severe measures to quell a mutiny so general and so violent. It was necessary, on all these accounts, to soothe passions which he could no longer command, and to give way to a torrent too impetuous to be checked. He promised solemnly to his men that he would comply with their request, provided they would accompany him and obey his command for three days longer ; and if, during that time, land were not discovered, he would then abandon the enterprise and direct his course towards Spain. H- Enraged as the sailors were, and impatier^ to turn their faces again towards their native country, this proposition did not ap- pear to them unreasonable ; nor did Columbus hazard much in confining himself to a terra so short. The preSages of discovering land were now so numerous and promising that he deemed them infallible. For some days the sounding line reached the bottom, and the soil which it brought up indicated land to be at no great distance. The flocks of birds increased, and were composed not only of sea-fowl, but of such land-birds as could not be supposed to fly far from the shore. The crew of the Pinta observed a cjine floating, which seemed to have been newly cut, and likewise a piece of timber artificially carved. The sailors aboard the Nigna took up the branch of a tree with red berries perfectly fresh. The clouds around the setting sun assumed a new appearance ; the air was more mild and warm ; and during night the wind became unequal and variable. From all these symptoms, Columbus was so confident of being near land, that, on the evening of the 11th of October, after public prayers for success, he ordered the sails to be furled, and the ships to lie to, keeping strict watch lest they should be driven ashore in the night. During this interval of luspense and expectation, no man shut his eyes ; all kept on deck, gazing intently towards that quarter where they expected to dis- cover the land, which had so long been the object of their wishes. About two hours before midmght, Columbus, standing on the i8 DISCOVERY OP AMERICA. i^ forecastle, obsotved a light at a distance, and privately pointed it out to Pedro Guttierez, a page of the qaeen's wardrobe. Guttierez perceived it, and calling to Salcedo, comptroller of the fleet, all three saw it in motion, as if it were carried from place to place. A little after midnight, the joyful sound of Land/ Land! was heard from the Pinta, which kept always ahead.^ the other ships. As soon as morning dawned, all doubts and fears were dispelled. From every ship an island was seen about two leagues to the north, whose flat and verdant fields, well stored with wood, and Nvatered with many rivulets, presented the aspect of a delightful country. The crew of the Pinta instantly began the Te Deum as a hymn of thanksgiving to God, and were joined by those of the other ships with tears of joy and transports of congratulation. They threw themselves at the feet of Columbus, with feelings of self-condemmition, mingled with reverence. They implored him to pardon their ignorance, incfed'^lity, and insolence, which had created him so much unnecessary Their faces and several parts of their bodies were fantJfetically painted with glaring colors. They were shy at first through fear, but soon became familiar with the Spaniards, and with transports of joy received from them hawk-bells, glass-beads, or other baubles ; in return f .: which they gave such provisions as they had, and some cotton- yarn, the only commodity of value whicL they could produce. Towards evening, Columbus returned to his ship, accompanied by many of the islanders in tlfbir boats, which they called canoes, and though rudely formed out of the trunk of a single tree, they rowed them with surprising dexCetity. Thus in the first inter- view between the inhabitants of the old and new worlds, every- thing 1Mb conducted amid!tbly and to their mutual satisfaction. i — BOBEBTBON. \l THE PRAIRIES. These are the gardens of the desert, these The unshorn fields, boundless and beautiful. For which the speech of England has no name ; The Prairies. I behold them for the first. And my heart swells, while the dilated sight Takes in the encircling vastness. Lo ! they stretch D i.'! i! 50 THE rUAIlMES. In airy undulations, far away, As if the ocean, in bis gentlest swell, Stood still, with all his rounded billows fixed And motionless for ever. Motionless ! No, they are all unchained again. The clouds Sweep over with their shadows, and, beneath. The surface rolls and fluctuates to the eye ; Dark hollows seem to glide along, and chase The sunny ridges. Breezes of the South ! Who toss the golden and the flame-like flowers, And pass the prairie-hawk, that, poised on high^ Flaps his broad wings, yet moves not ! ye have played Among the palms of Mexico, and vines Of Texas, and have crisped the limpid brooks That from the fountains of Sonora glide Into the calm Pacific ; have ye fanned A nobler or a lovelier scene than this ? Man hath no part in all this glorious work : The hand that built the firmament hath heaved And smoothed these verdant swells, and sown their slopes' With herbage, planted them with island groves. And hedged them round with forests. Fitting floor For this magnificent temple of the sky, With flowers whose glory and whose multitude Rival the constellations ! The great heavens Seem to stoop down upon the scene in love ; A nearer vault, and of a tenderer blue, Than that which bends above the eastern hilla. As o'er the verdant waste I guide my steed, Among the high, rank grass that sweeps his ;3ide3, The hollow beating of his footsteps seems A sacrilegious sound. I think of those Upon whose rest he tramples. Are they here, ^ The dead of other days ? And did the dust Of these fair soUtudes once stir with life. And bum with passion 1 Let the mighty mounds That overlook the rivers, or that rise In the dim forest, crowded with old oaks, Answer. I THE PRAIRIES. 51 pes' I! ,i A race that long has passed away ' Built them ; a disciplined and populous race Heaped, with long toil, the earth, while yet the Greek Was hewing the Pentelicus to forms Of symmetry, and rearing on its rock The glittering Parthenon. These ample fields Nourished their harvests, here their herds were fed, When haply by their stalls the bison lowed, And bowed his man^d shoulder to the yoke. All day this desert murmured with their toils, Till twilight blushed, and lovers walked and wooed In a forgotten language, and old tunes, From instruments of unremembered form, Gave the soft winds a voice. The red man came, The roaming hunter tribes, warlike and fierce, And the mound-builders vanished from the earth. The solitude of centuries untold Has settled where they dwelt. The prairie-wo^f Hunts in their meadows, and his fresh-dug de Yawns by my path. The gopher mines the ground Where stood their swarming cities. All is gone ; All, — save the piles of earth that hold their bones ; The platforms where they worshipped unknown god^: ', The barriers which they builded from the soil To keep the foe at bay, till o'er the walls The wild beleaguerers broke, and, one by one, The strongholds of the plain were forced, and heaped With corpses. The brown vultures of the wood Flocked to these vast uncovered sepulchres, And sat, unscared and silent, at their feast. Haply, some solitary fugitive, Lurking in marsh and forest, till the sense Of desolation and of fear became Bitterer than death, yielded himself to die. Man's better nature triumphed. Kindly words Welcomed and soothed him ; the rude conquerors Seated the captive with their chiefs ; he chose A bride among their maidens, and, at leuf^th, Seemed to forget — yet ne'er forcjot — the wife o2 THE PRAIRIES. i i Of his first lOT.?; and her sweet little ones Butchered, amid tlieir shrieks, with all his race. Thus cliange the forms of being. Thus arise Races of living things, glorious in strength, And perish, as the quickening l)reath of God Fills them, or is withdrawn. The red man, too, Has left th'3 blooming wilds he ranged so long, And, nearer to the Rocky Mountains, sought A wider hunting-ground. The beaver builds No longer by these streams, but far away, On waters whose blue surface ne'er gave back The white man's face ; among Missouri's springs, And pools whose issues swell the Oregon, Ho rears his little Venice. In these plains The bison feeds no more. Twice twenty leagues Beyond remotest smoke of hunter's camp, Roams the majestic brute, in herds that shake The earth with thundering steps ; yet here I meet His ancient footprints stamped beside the pool. Still this great solitude is quick with life. Myriads of insects, gaudy as the flowers They flutter over, gentle quadrupeds, And birds that scarce have learned the fear of man, Are here, and sliding reptiles of the ground, Startlingly beautiful. The graceful deer Bounds to the wood at my ai)proach. The bee, A more adventurous colonist than man, With whom he came across the eastern deep, Fills the savannas with his murmurings, And hides his sweets, as in the golden age, Within the hollow oak. I listen long To his domestic hum, and think I hear The sound of that advancing multitude Which soon shall fill the deserts. From the ground Conies up the laugh of children, the soft voice Of maidens, and the sweet and solemn hjnnn Of Sabbath worshippers. The low of herds Blends with the rustling of the heavy grain Over the dark- brown furrows. All at once A fresher wind sweeps by, and breaks my dream, And I am in the wilderness alone. — W. C. Bryant. ).* aHE united ISMPIRE LOYALISXa 53 NT. THE UNITED EMPIRE LOYALISTS. When the thirteen colonies of North America cast off their allegiance to the British Crown in 1776, and erected themselves into the Republic of the United States, it was not without much opposition from many gallant and loyal subjects of King George. Men who loved the British iiag, and cherished the name of Briton as an honorable birthright, had no sympathy with their fellow- countrymen in their attempt to dismember the empire, of wliich they formed so important a part* For this reason they were called United Empire Loyalists, a term synonymous with gal- lant daring, patient endurance of sufifering, and often, unfortu- nately, with um-ewarded loyalty to King and country. Driven from their homes by the Whig, or rebel party, these ftiitliful men, with their families, found refuge in the colonies which had been recently taken from the French. They were among the earliest settlers of New Brunswick and Upper Canada, and were found also in considerable numbers swelling the populations of Nova Scotia, Prince Edward Island, and Lower Canada, The perilous adventures and noble daring of one of the most promi- nent United Empire Loyalists is thus given by the Americiin writer, Sabine: — "James Moody, of New Jersey, at the begiiming of the war, with a wife and three children, was settled on a large, fertile, and well-cultivated farm of his own, and was contented and happy. He took no part in politics, and simply wished to live and die a British subject. Molested, however, incessantly, by tlie Whigs, and shot at three several times on Sunday, while quietly walking on his own grounds, he resolved to fly to the Royal army; and in April, 1777, accompanied by seventy- three of his neighbors, he reached Colonel Barton's cori)S at Bergen. His very name soon became a terror. The cry that "Moody is out!" or that "Moody is in the country!" was uttered in intense fear in parts of New Jersey and Pennsylvania for yeai's. His first service was at the head of about one hundred men, when he marched seventy miles to annoy his foimer friends. He was attacked, and of his whole party eight only escaped to the British lines. Of the prisoners taken by the Whigs, more thu.1 thirty were sentenced to death — ^twc were executed ; the rest saved life by enlisting in the Continental army, but except a few who di( d, all who were" thus spared deserted. He was next employed to ni 1'^ Dl THE UMT1^1> £J1P1A£ LOYALISIU penetrate the country and obtain information relative to the Htrength and position of a Whig corps, and was commended for liis skill and perseverance. In June, 1779, he captured a Whig colonel, a lieutenant-colonel, a major, two captains, and several others of inferior rank, and destroyed a considemble magazine of powder and aims. On his return, with such public stores as he could transport, he was assailed by a force double liis own, which, after a spirited light of forty minutes, he dispersed at the point of the bayonet. Next, he went out with a party of seven and secured the persons of eighteen Whig officers of militia, and committee m m. This feat raised a new alarm, and he was hunted in caves and forests night and day. He eluded his pursuers, but, while retracing his steps to New York, he fell into the hands of General Wayne, much to the joy of his captors and Whigs of New Jersey. "Moody is in the toils at last," was the word far and near. He was sent first to a place called "^7te Slote" thence to Stony Point, thence to West Point, thence to Esopus, and thence back to West Point. Arnold, who was plotting to sur- render the latter port, treated him with absolute barbarity; for, by his order, he was placed in a dungeon excavated in a rock, the bottom of which was ankle-deep in water, mud, and filth. In this dismal hole the wretched prisoner was fettered hand and foot; compelled to sleep on a door raised on four stones above the disgusting mixture, and proflfered food at which he revolted, and which was brought to him in a wooden bowl that was never washed, and that was enci-usted with dough, dirt, Jind grease. The irons upon his wi'ists were ragged on the inner bide, and caused sores which gave him gi*eat pain, while his legs became initated and swollen. He implored Arnold for relief, declaring that he preferred death to sufferings so intense. Some days after his second petition to be treated as a prisoner of war, en oiHcer came to his prison and asked, — "Are you Moody, whose name is a ten-or to every good man?" When answered, the officer pointed to a gallows near by and said, — "A swing upon that you have long merited." Moody replied, "That he hoped to live to see him, ajid a thousand other villains like him, hanged for being rebels." The fettei-s were examined but not removed. The case was at last reported to Washington, who ordered the irons to be taken ofi*, and the serving of wholesome I . revisions, with leave to purchase milk and vegetables. Soon, I THU UNITED EMPIRE LOYALISTS. 05 .1 too, the prisoner was transferreil to tho chiefs own camp, when the adjutiiut-gcneml, the noble Scanimell, examined his limbs, and, shocked at their condition, gave instant directions for humane treatment. Before our pai-tisan had fully i-eoovered, lie was told that he was to be tried for the murder of tho Whig captain and of another officer who fell in the affair which I have mentioned; and aj^o for enlisting men, which, too, was a capital offence. Ha was informed besides, that "he was so obnoxious, and likely to be so mischievous, tliat the Whigs were determined to get rid of him at any rate," and that his fate was sealed. From this moment he resolved to escape or perish in tlio effort. On a dark and rainy mght, he accordingly contrived to break the bolt off his handcutis without notice, wh%n ho sprang past tho inner sentinel, knocked down and seized tho gun of the next, avoided four others who were stationed at the place of his confinement, and obtained his liberty, though tho cry was raised by huncheds — "Moody has esca{)ed from tho Provost!" and though he was pursued in every direction. We hear little of our partisan and spy until March, 1781, when Oliver De Lancy the younger, who had succeeded Andrd as Adjutant-General, requested him to undertake to intercept Washington's despatches. Moody, ever ready, departed the very next night, and travelled more than twenty-live miles by the dawn of day ; when, as detection was sure to lead to a speedy death on the gallows, he and his followers retreated to a swamp. On the second night his guide refused to proceed; and Moody, in his anger, cocked his gun to shoot liim, but spared him for the sake of his family. The enterprise was, however, at an end, and those who were engaged in it made the best of their way to New York. De Lancy was much disappointed; an(A Moody, in nowise discouraged, set out again, determined upon success. He reached the Haverstraw Mountains in darkness, and was there informed that the post had already passed. To get ahead of the rider was the only course ; and Moody and his little band, heedless of severe suffering from the inclemency of the weather and from a pelting snow-storm, pushed on, and on the fifth day they obtained their prize, which, after hazardous and distressing night marches, they placed in the possession of their employer. Moody himself bore fatigue, hunger, and cold, without apparent injury; but the hardships of this adventure "were fatal to the heilth of most of his party. Soou after this feat, Moody, 66 TBE UNITED EMPIRE LOYALISTS. !l who had served quite a year as a vohinteor without pay, and nearly three years as an ensign, was promoted to a lieutenancy. In a month or two, De Lancy complained of the want of intelligence, and the new lieutenant, with four men, accordingly left camp to seize another "Kebel Mail." On the second night tlioy met a party of Whigs, who enclosed them on three sides, and who had so well executed a plan of ambush as to leave no hope of escape, except by leaping frAii a high cliff of rocks. To surrender or perish was the only alternative. Moody chose the latter; and, bidding his men to follow, sprang over the pre- cipice. Strangely enough not one was hurt. But he soon saw another band of Whigs crossing a swamp; and, satisfied that his onemies acted upon information sent from the British lines, he resolved to retreat. Eluding his pursuers, he reached the Hudson River, and thought his perils over. When within four miles of the city, seventy Whigs emerged from a house a hundred yards distant, and marched directly towards him. Hia gui*le, who insisted that they were Loyalists, went to meet them, and was greeted with a shot. The main body made for Moody, who, without other means of escape, scrambled up a steep hill ; but. long before he reached the summit, his foes were in full chase, aud when only one hundred and fifty feet off "gave him one general discharge." "Tlie bullets flew like a storm ot hail all around him ; hh cJotiies were shot through in several places; one ball went through liis hat und another grazed his arm." Ko turned wit^ort slackening his pace, aimed at one w'uo ^ ursacd, and killj i him on the spot. Though the firing was continued he escaped uDharn)ed, and in due time re- ported himself at head-quarters. Still bent on success, and giving himself no time for rest, Moody, accompanied by four trusty followers, left New York the very night of his arrival there; and, as before, he moved in darkness only, until he was ready to pounce upon the coveted "Rebel Mail." He incurred perils which I have not time to relate. After waylaying the rider five days, he bore off all the despatches that werr^ sent to Whigs in the field and elsewhere, in consequence of interviews between Washington and Count Rochambeiu in Connect'cn^," After numberless stirring adventures, Lientenvint Moody visited England in 1781, for the sake of his health, which hi\d been greatly shattered; he afterwards t^etwed in Nova Scotia, and died at Weymouth in 1809. ^Camphell\ Fourth Htader, JACK mosT. 0T JACK FROST. The Frost ^ook'd forth ono still, clear night, And whispeiHxl, "Now I shall be out of sight; So, through the valley, and over the height, In silence I'll take my way. I will not go on like that blustering ti- .in — Tlie wind and the snow, the hail and the rain— Who make so much bustle and noise in vain ; But I'll be as busy as they." Then he flew to the mountain, and powdered its crest; He lit on the trees, and their boughs he di'cst In diamond beads; and over the breast Of the quivering lake he spread A coat of mail, that it need not fear Tlie downward point of many a speai* That hung on its margin, far and near. Where a rock could rear its head. He went to the windows of those who slept, And over each pane like a fairy crept ; Wherever he breathed, wherever he stept, By the light of the morn were seen Most beautiful things: there were flowers and trees; There were bevies of birds, and, swarms of bees; There were cities, with temples and towers — and these All pictured in silver sheen. But he did one thing that was hardly fair: He peeped in the cupboard, and finding there That all had forgotten for him to prepare — "Now, just to set them a thinking, I'll bite this basket of fruit," said he, "This costly pitcher I'll burst in three; And the glass of water they've left for me ghall 'tchick !' to tell them I' drinking." — Miss Gould < 58 PITCHER PLANTS. PITCHER PLANTS. Pitcher plants are among the greatest curiosities of the vege- table kingdom. In most of our Northern swamps they may be seen, with their tall flower-stalks, and d;irk brownish-red flowers, rising erect from the soft peat-moss, surrou ided by clusters of pitcher-shaped leaves. The pitchers are of all hues, from a dark withered brown to a delicate green, exhibiting often a beautiful marking of bright red lines. They are formed, it is supposed, by a natural folding of the leaf of the plant, although it is impossible to say for what purpose; and are of all sizes, ranging from two to eight inches in length. On one side of the pitcher is a winged expansion of the folded leaf, and at the top there is formed a roundish arching hood. The neck of the pitcher is much narrower than its body, and presents tlie appearance of a solid rim, generally very bright Riid glossy. It is supposed that the water, with which these leai es are generally half filled, is drawn up from the swamp, and that its presence is not owing to rain. These pitchers are the sepulchres of unnumbered flies and other insects: it is an easy matter for them to find their way into the open mouth, but not so easy to return, for the throat and hood are lined w^ith sharp hairs pointing downwards, that pierce the repentant intruder while attempting to retrace his steps, and hurl him into the abyss of water below. Once there, hope is for ever shut out, and the unfortunate insect dies a lingering death. It has been supposed that the pitcher plant, like the little sundews of our bogs, which clasp intruding flies in their glutinous embrace, has a relish for other food than that which earth and air supply, and that its carnivorous tastes are essential to its f xistence ; but this view is not well-established. In Nova Scotia, Newfound- land, and in parts of Canada, the root of the pitcher plant hag been used successfully in cases of smallpox, although doctors difler as to its real value in medicine. There is no doubt that the Indians look upon it as a valuable remedy, and one of the most important articles with which the great medicine chest of nature supplies them. The name of our pitchw plant i* Sarra- cenia, so called from Dr. Sarrazin, of Quebec, a "physician who first sent an account of it, accorapauied with specimens, to Toumefort, the celebrated French botanist. The name of the spc 'jies, or particular kind of Surracciiia, which is to be found i* of PITCHER PLANTS. u 39 ,< in Bntish North America and the Northern United States, is purpurea, or the purple Sarriicenia, so called from the color of the gloomy-looking flower. Another species, called the^ava, or yellow Sarracenia, grows sometimes to the height of three feet, with long trumpet-shaped pitchers and yellow flowei-s. It is neve)' found noi-th of Virginia in the United States. Another, called the Darlingtonia, is found growing among the mountains of California ^^ and still another, named Heliamphera, in the swamps of Guiana. All the true pitcher plants, therefore, are natives of the New World. In the East Indies, however, and in China, another class of jntcher plants is to be found, even more curious than ours. The two classes are not at all related to one another, the Sarra- oenias being closely allied to the buttercups, and the Nepenthe * to the nettles. An interesting v/riter thus describes the latter : — " It is of a half shrubby nature, and can grow to the height of from twenty to thirty feet. Its leaves, which are the most wonderful parts of it, are green, smooth, entire, and about three inches broad and xwo feet long; and they come out straggiingly, and half embrace the stem. The mid-rib of each has a rusty V)rown color, is very preminent behind, and is prolonged at the tip of the leaf into a tortuous, pendulous, rusty-brown tendril ; and this tendril beara at its extremity a pwpendicular dingy-brown pitcher, from six to nine inches in depth, and about five inches in greatest circumference. A very distinct lid surmounts the pitcher, and joins on to the back part of the rim ; it continues closed while the jitcher is young, and stands open, at about a right angle with the mouth, when the pitcher becomes old. A quantity of pure sweet water, varying from a drachm to several ounces, is always found in both the opened and the unopened pitchers; and seems to be a secretion from minute glandular scales with which the lower half of the pitcher is lined. Some animals of the monkey family in Ceylon are well acquainted with the liquid-containing character of the pitchers, and never scruple to frequent thom as convenient, pleasant wells. A pitcher plant at Chatsworth was described, a number of years ago, as more than twenty feet high ; as suspending nearly fifty full-grown ])itchers from the points of its strongest leaves; and as pi-esenting a most magnificent and exceedingly singular appearance." There is yet another i lant closely allied to the Sarracenias, 60 MOOSE HUNTING IN NOVA SCOTIA. although not belonging to the same famil}', which presents a similar peculiarity of leaf. The pitchers of the Cephalotus, as it is called, resemble those of the Nepenthes in possessing a lid, but diflfer from them, in that they spring directly from the root, being mingled with the ordinary leaves of the plant. The Cephalotus is a native of King George's Sound in New Holland. With it may be said to conclude the tribe of vegetable curiosities known as pitcher plants. — Campbell's Fourth Reader, MOOSE HUNTING IN NOVA SCOTIA. About three hours after sundown W3 all left the camp; my companion, with old Paul, going down the lake in the canoe, whUst the two young Indians accompanied me thi'ouga the woods to " Still Water," a stagnant, muddy stream, flowing into the lake through swampy fir-wood. The "dark valley" through which it passed was thickly carpeted by wet moss, the numerous impressions on which showed that it was a favorite resort for moose. As there was still an hour's daylight, we commenced to "creep." Presently Joe, stooping down and examining a track with unusual earnestness, beckoned to his comrade. " Quite fresh track, two bull and cow; they gone by just ten minutes," pronounced Joe. " See here," said he, bending doMTi a young maple shoot bitten off at about ten feet from the gi'ound, " see where he make the fresh bite." It was evidently crept quite recently, for, on breaking it off an inch lower do\vn, no difference in color could be perceived between the fracture and where the moose had bitten it " I think you put on cap now," said the Indian, " no tellin when we see um moose now." Now begins the cree])ing in earnest, Jim taking the lead and we following, noiseless as snakes, in Indian file. Suddenly, a distant sound strikes our ears, and we stand listening in our tracks. It is repeated — a wild roar — and appears to come over the hill to our left. " The moose ! '' said Jim, and, clearing the swamp, we dash up the hill-side, the energetic waving of Jim's hand, as we arrive at the summit, warning us to exercise our utmost caution. Yes ! he is right. The ])rutes are in the valley beneath, and the forest echoes ■with the deep guttural bellowings of the M008B HUNTING IN NOVA SCOTIA. 61 ly, a ontlered monster, and the plaintive answers of hi«» consort, yet we in no way relaxed our former caution. V e could not depend for any mistake on our being concealed b^ the tremen- dous uproar of the moose, and our course must s ill be shaped with due observation of the wind. We ;'L,oend the hill obliquely to the edge of the " Still Water," across which the moQ^se has just swum. We, too, cross the water on a dead trunk that has fallen from bank to bank, and, tightly grasping ouv guns, crouch down and endeavor to penetrate the thickets ahead for a sight of the game. • Suddenly and unexpectedly we leave the dense underwood, and stand on the edge of a little open valley. Jim, as I emerge from the thicket immediately after him, bounds on one side, his arm extending and pointing. There is an enormous black mass standing behind a group of young maples at the further end of the valley. It is the bull. In a second the sight of the rifle bears upon him, and uttering an appalling roar, the huge brute sinks plunging into the laurels. With a shout we rush on. To our astonishment, however, he rises with another fearful roar, and, before I have time to check my speed and level the rifle once more, he has disappeared thiough the thicket. "Come on," shouts Jim, "we sure to get him —he badly hit.'\ There is no tracking now; the crushing branches and the roar of the enraged animal direct us, and we dash through swamps, and bound over fallen trees with desperate energy. But it is of no use; the pace was too good to iast, and presently, torn and exhausted, we flung ourselves at full length on the moss, and for awhile listened to our own deep breathings, and to the hoarse bellowing of the rapidly-retreating moose, momentarily grow- ing fainter. Jc , the youngest Indian, a lad of extraordinaiy endurance, had taken my rifle and renewed the chase by himself. After a whUe, however, Joe was seen returning, and without saying a word flung himself down by the side of his companions, quite done up. They did not ask him what luck he had, there it was, plain enough — a piece of moose-meat tied to the barrel of his gun. The particulars of the chase did not come out till the day's sport was over, and master and men reclined at their ease in camp. "Whcii I leave you," exclaimed Joe, "I run very hard for 'bout a mile; moose make great noise — I know he very sick; and boon when I come ou little barren I see um standing on 62 PRINCE EDWARD ISLAND. other side. Oh, my sakes ! He got such a bad congh I He not able to hold up his head. Then I shoot, and he run little piece further and drop. You want to know where you hit um 1 Well, I tell you, you hit um in the neck — make him cough shocking." — Lieutenant Hardy. HISTORICAL SKETCH OF PRINCE EDWARD ISLAND. The original inhabitants of this beautifal island were two tribea of Indians, the Abenaki and the Micmac, These tribes were frequently at war with each other, till, at last, the Micmacs prevailed, and di'ove the Abenakis into the adjoining provinces. It is a difficult matter to tell who was the first European that land(id upon the shores of Prince Edward Island. It iy sup- posed tli.it John Cabot, the Venetian navigator, in the service of tlie English Henry VII.; Cortereal, a Portuguese; and Vt;rrazzani, « Florentine, in the employ of France, may have discovered it in the course of their explorations. It is, at least, highly probable that the fleets of fishing vessels, which followed tlie discovery of Cartier, in 1534, to the banks of Newfoundland, (lid not overlook the valuable fishing-grounds on the western Kliores of the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and that their crews formed temporary settlements upon this inviting island. The celebrated Champlain, the most diligent of French ex- plorers, was the first to give a name to the island, which he may thus claim the merit of having discovered. He called it St. Jolm, probably from the saint's day on which he first caught sight of its well-wooded hills and long banks of sand. But, although it had received a name, St. John was long destitute of civili2ed habitation. In 1 663, the Government of Canada granted tlie island to the Sieur Doublet, a naval captain, who made it the head-quarters of an extensive fishery. In his hands it remained until the close of the century, being visited by his associatas and employes only during the summer months, after which all traces of the presence of civilized man were annually df^stroyed bv the savages, who were left in sole possession during tiie lonpr ^vlIil.;;• season. PRINCE ED\V4RD ISLAND. G3 It was not till 1715, when the French had been deprived of Newfoundland and Nova Scotia, that sonie iicadians, and other French settlers, unwilling to live under a foreign flag, made their way to Cape Breton and St. John, still under the power of France. The dwellings they erected for themselves were mere huts in the wilderness, many of them rude Indian wig- wams, totally unconnected with each other, roads being then altogether unknown. By degrees, immigration increased, and in 1745, the opening year of the war between Britain and France, the population consisted of about 800 men, women, and children. It is supposed that the island was not molested during this war, although it seems to have been the intention of General Pepperell, who, with a body of New England Militia, made the first capture of Louisburg, to take possession of St. John also. After the restoration of Cape Breton to the French, in 1749, the island began to assimie an appearance of wealth and dignity. Farms were cleared; villages showed their diurch- Bpires rising up among the forest trees; two small forts frowned threateningly upon possible enemies; and two governors watched over the welfare of the island, one civil, the other military, with a command of sixty men. Many Acadians continued to find their way to St. John, and, in 1768, its population had increased to 4000. But before this, another war between France and Great Britain had commenced. This war began in 1756, and, after several British reverses, ended in the capture of Louisburg and the taking of Quebec by Amherst and Wolfe. Under the con- ditions of the capitulation of Louisburg, St. John was formally ceded to the British crown, and Colonel Rollo took possession of it a short time afterwards. A large number of the inliabi- tants, dreading the fate of the Acadians of Nova Scotia, deserted their farms and villages, and many removed altogether to the mainland. From this period, 1748, till the American Revolu- tion, St. John remained unmolested. In 1775, however, two war vessels of the American congress, which had been sent to the Gulf of St Lawrence to look after some British store ships on theii' way to Quebec, having allowed these to escape them, revGn<:jed themselves by an attack upon Charlottetown, which had now become the chief place in the island. Finding little opposition from the loyal but unprotected inhabitants, the rebels plundered the town, and carried off the deputy-governor and the J^urveyor-geueral, whom tliey took with them to TT \\ \ \if 64 PRINCE EDWARD ISLAND. General Wasliington's rnmp. W.'i?;hinf]rton, far from Mng pleased with the act, condemned the olKcers in command 'for ** leaving undone what they ought to have done, and doing what they ought not." He restored the property carried off, and liKicrated the piisoners, with many expressions of regret that they had been put to such inconvenience by his followers. After this occurrence, a small ship of war was despatched from the British fleet for the protection of the island. This ship succeeded in capturing a merchant vessel, in which a number of rebels from Nova Scotia intended to make a descent upon Char- lottetown, and brought the prize and prisoners into the harbor which they had fondly expected to enter afi conquerors. The Island of St. John has possessed a separate government of its own, having been separated in 1770 from Nova Scotia, to which it had been .iirached since 1763. In the year 1799, when tlie population of the island was 5000, the Duke of Kent visited North America as Commander-in-Chief of the forces stationed in tlie different provinces. Feeling the inconvenience of a name common to the chief towns of Newfoundland and New Brunswick, the legislature of St. John altered its designation to Prince Edward, in compliment to the Duke of Kent, and father of her present graciou*Maj esty Queen Victoria. Since that time the Island of Prince Edward has made rapid progress in material prosperity. Its population is now over 80,000. As an agiicuL ti iral country it is unsurpassed ; and its fisheries and ship-building have been long carried on with great success. Like its sister provinces, it musters a considerable volimteer force, prepared, if need be, to do battle for the integrity of "this right little, tight little island." — CampbdUs Fourth Jitaden SHIP-BUILDING IN NEW BRUNSWICK. 65 SHIP-BUILDING IN NEW BRUNSWICK. Ship-building is, undoubtedly, the characteristic feature of the Province of New Brunswick. Nova Scotia possesses more ex- tensive coalfields ; Newfoundland excela in fisheries ; Prince Edward Island boasts a finer climate ; and the Canadas are no mean competitors in the grain and timber markets ; but in this important branch of industry New Brunswick takes the lead. The vast forests of this province present an almost inexhaustible supply of suitable materials for the construction of vessels of all dimensions, in the plantations of oak and elm, beech and maple, birch, ash, larch, and spruce trees, which they contain. So numerous are the rivers and streams, which form a net- work of navigation, as it were, over the country, that no difficulty is foimd in 'jonveying the raw material to the busy ship-yards on the great rivers and along its many hundred miles of sea-board. The principal stations of this industrial art are the ports of St. John and Miramichi ; but almost as important are the numerous creeks and bays of the Bay of Fundy, the Straits of Northumberlajid, the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and the E r^ \ • I \ ^ 66 6HIP-BUILDINa IM NEW BRUNSWICK. Bay of Chaleur, in which, as well as along the banks Of the larger rivers flowing into them« ship-building is extensively prosecuted. A large number of the vessels built in this province — from 100 to 150 annually — are employed in the coasting; trado carried on by the provinces of British America between them- selves and with the tJnited States ; in the seal, cod, and other fisheries of Newfoundland, Labrador, and their neighboring fishing-stations ; and in the transportation of timber to Great Britain. Mwiy ships constructed in the New Brunswick yards, however, are of a far more ambitious character than these, and, like the famous Ma/rco Poloj have been unsurpascv^d for beauty of form, for speed,* and for durability. So high has the reputation of the ship-builders of New Brunswick risen, that their vessels are in great request even in England; and an agent of Lloyd's, the celebrated English underwriting or Marine Insurance Establishment, resides pei^nanently in the province* to watch over its ship-building interests. The most important kinds of timber used in this bmnch of industry are the black birch, a tall tree, with compact wood, very different from the white-barked varieties employed by the Indians in the construction of their canoes; and the larch, or hackmatack, also known as the tamarack, — a graceful and valuable member of the pine family, generally found growing in swampy places. These woods are only made use of for the larger and more important classes of ships ; to all inferior purposes the other varieties of timber already specified are applied. The lofty white pine serves for masts, and the topmasts and yards are made of the black or double spruce. We may form an idea of the size of many of the vessels built at St. John, and other New Brunswick ports, from the fact that the 122 ships built in 1853 averaged 585 tons, or more than five times the dimensions of Sir Humphrey Gilbert's vessel, the Golden Hind. Ship-building in New Brunswick dates back to the year 1770, when one of the earliest settlers, named Jonathan Leavitt, launched a small schooner in the harbor of St. John, the pigmy ancestor of a niunerous and giant progeny. This first attempt of the provincial ship carpenter was dignified with the name of "Monneguash " in honor of what is now St. John, that being the Indian designation of the peninsula upon which part of the oity is situated. Three years afterwards, Miramichi begaa to . 1 THE SHIP-BUILDEBflL «7 divide the honors of the craft, in the person of William Davidson, the tirst British settler upon the river, who built a vessel of cohsiderable size, and christened her the ^* Jliramichiy" after her birth-place. Such were the first attempts at what is now a most important source of revenue to the country, and an occupation which affords employment to large numbers of intelligent and industrious men. The great progress made by New Bnmswick in this art since the early period of its commencement, leads us to anticipate a mighty and prosperous future for ship-building interests in the province, and the ultimate formation of a British- American marine ioferior only to that of the mother country. — Campbell's Fourth MtaUtr, THE SHIP-BUILDERS, Tuis sky is ruddy in the east, The earth is gray below, And, spectral in the river-mist. The ship's white timbers show. Then let the soimds of measured stroke And grating saw begin; The broad axe to the gnarled oak, The mallet to the pin ! Hark! roars the bellows, blast on blast, The sooty smithy jars, And fire-sparks, rising far and fast. Are fading with the stars. Ail day for us the smith shall stand Beside that flashing forge; All day for us his heavy hand The groaning anvil scourge. From far-off hills, the panting team For us is toiling near; For us the raftsmen down the stream Their island barges steer. Rings out for us the axe-man's stroke In forests old and still ; For us the century-circled oak Falls crashinc down his hilL ea r THf SHIP-BUILDIRI. Up! up! in nobler toils tlian ours No craftsman bears a part; We make of nature's giant powers The slavec of human art. Lay rib to rib, and beam to beam, And drive the tree-nails free , Nor faithless joint, nor yawning seam, Shall tempt the searching sea ! Where'er the keel of our good ship The sea's rough field shall i)loiigh — "Where'er her tossing spars shall drip With salt-spray caught below — That shi[> must heed her master's beck, Her helm obey his hand. And seamen tread her reeling deck, As if thoy trod the land. Her oaken ribs the vulture-beak Of Northern ice may peel; Tho sunken rock an ' ^oral peak May grate a'jng her keel. And know vre well the painted shell, We give to wind and wave, Must float, the sailor's citadel, Or sink, the sailor's grave ! Ho! strike away the bars and block?, And set the good ship free ! Why lingers on these dusty rocks The young bride of the sea ? Look ! how she moves a-down the gi-oovea, In graceful beauty now ! How lowly on the breast she loves Sinks down the virgin prow! God bless her ! wheresoe'er the breeze Her snowy wing shall fan, Aside the frozen Hebrides, Or sultry HindostanI - Where'er in mart or in the m With peaceful flag unfurled. She helps to wind the silken chain Of commerce round the world 1 V. u FIRE IM THE WOODS. Speed on t he sliip ! but let her bear No merchandise of sin, No groaning cargo of despair Her roomy hold within. No Lethean drug for Eastern lands, Nor poison-draught for ours; But honest fruits of toiling hands, And nature's sun and showeiti ! Be hers the prairie's golden grain. The desert's golden sand, Tho clustered fruits of sunny Spain« The spice of morning-land ! Her pathway on the open main. May blessings follow free, And glad hearts welcome back again Her white sails from the sea! O. WniTTlEB. FIRE IN THE WOODS. I CAN cMiceive of nothing in this world more awful than one of those fires which have frequently rushod through forests in North America, with more fearful rapidity and destructive fury than any lava-stream that ever poured from the fiercest volcano. The first time I ever saw the traces of such a con- flagration was in Nova Scotia, between Halif ix and Truro, on the road to Pictou» The driver of the stage — and a better or merrier never mounted a box, or guided a team through mud and over corduroy — pointed out to me the spot in which be and his charge ^had a most narrow escape. While pursuing his journey along one of these forest roads, ramparted on each side by tall tf' es that show but a narrow strip of blue sky overhead, he found himself involved in volumes of smoke bursting from the woods. It di*^ not require the experience of an inhabitant of the great Western Continen*^ to reveal to liim instantly his terrible position. The woods were on fire ! but whether the fire was far off or near he could not tell If far ofif, he knew ro FIRB IN TBI WOODS. it wfw making towards him with the speed of a rncrhorse ; if near, a few mompnts must involve him in the conflagmtion. Suddenly the fire burst before him ! It was crossing the road, and forming; a canopy overhead; sending long tongues of flame, with wreaths of smoke, from one tree-top to another; cracking and roaring as it sped upon its devouring path ; licking up the tufted heads of the pines, while the wind hurled them onward to extend the conflagration. What was to be done 1 To retreat was useless. Miles of forest were behind ready to be consumed. There was one hope only of escape. Nathan had heard, in the morning, a report that a mill had been burnt The spot where it stood was about six hundred yards ahead. He argued, that the fire having been there, and consumed everything, could not again have visited the same place. He determined to make a desperate rush through fire and smoke to reach the clearance. The conflagration was as yet above him like a glowing arch, though it had partially extended to the ground on either side. He had six horses, to be sure, tried animals, who knew his voice, and whom he seemed to love as friends; but such a coach . — lumbering and springless, and full of passengers, too, chiefly ladies ; and such roads ! — a combination of trunks of trees buried in thick mud. But on he must go, or perish. Bending his head down, blind, hardly able to breathe, lashing his horses, and shouting to the trembling, terrified creatures, and while the ladies screamed in agony of fear, Nathan went plunging and tossing through the terrific scene ! A few minutes more, and there is no hope, for the coach is scorched, and about to take fire ; and the horses are getting unmanageable ! Another desperate rush — he has reached the clearance, and there is the mill, a mass of charred wood, surrounded by a forest of ebony trunks growing out of charred earth ; the fire has passed, and Nathan is safe ! " Oh ! sir," he said, " it was frightful ! Think only if a horse had stumbled or fallen ! or had the fire caught us further back! — five minutes more would have done it, sir!" That same fire consumed a space of forest ten miles long and three broad. But what is such a fire, even, to the r/iemorable one which devastated Miramichi, in New Bnmswick, about twenty-five years ago! That terrible conflagration is unparalleled in the history of consumed forests. It broke out on the 7th October, 1825, about sixty miles above the town of Newcastle, at one in the afternoon, and before ten the same night it had reached ' « :1 FIRE IN THB WOODS. 71 twenty miles 'boyond ; thus traversing, in nine bonrs, a distance of eighty miles of forest, with a breadth of about twenty-five! Over this great tract of country everything was destroyed ; on© himdred and sixty persons peiished; not a tree was left; the very fish in the streams were scorched, and found afterwards lying dead in heaps. The morning of that dreadful day was calm and sultry; but, in an instant, smoke swept over the town of Newcastle (situated on the river Miramichi), which turned day into night. Tho darkness was so uiexpected — so sudden — so profound — that many cried that the Judgment had come. But soon the true cause was suspected. Suspicions were speedily followed by cei'tainty, as the flames were seen bursting through the gloom. Every one made for the river; some got into boats moored near the beach, some on rafts of timber, while others stood in^the water. Terrified mothera with their families; decrepid old men and women; and, worse than all, the sick and dying, were hurried, in despairing crowds, to the stream, to escape the flames which were already devouring their houses, and making a bon- fire of the thriving town. Each succeeding hour added some new horror to the scene. The rarefaction and exhaustion of tho air by the intense heat over so great a space caused, as was supposed, such a rush of cold air ftom the ocean, that a hurricane rushed in fury along the river, tearing burning trees up by the roots, hurling flaming branches through the air for five or six miles (wliich set fire to the shipping, and to tho woods on tlie other side of the broad stream), causing at the same tirao such a r^'ling sea up the river as threatened to swamp the boats, an J sweep tho miserable refugees from the rafts ! It sev. an ii^-^'et ible — ^but we believe there is no doubt hs to the fact"- -thut the nshes of the fire fell thick on the streets of Halif^j.:., Bu Joiii' y, Newfoundland, and Quebec; and that some were carnc,? as far as the Bermudas, while the smoke darkened the air hundreds of miles off ! That terrible night is fresh in the memory of all who endured its horrors. One of my informants, speaking of it, said, "No language can describe it! I do not think I shall see anything like it again in this world, or until the last day ! I was in a druggist's shop, getting medicine for my wife, who was confined to bed with a fever. The druggist was pouring a few drops into a phial, when literally, in a twinkling of an eye, it became so dark that he oould not see to drop the medicine, and I could not see his face 1 72 FlllE IN XU£ WOOJDU. 'The last day has come!' we both exclaimed. I left the shop to go home; but it was so pitch-dark that I could not see the roadj and had to walk in the ditch which bordered it. Guided by the paling, and assisted by a friend, I got my wife and children to the river, and placed them on a raft, and what a scene ! — what cr3ring and weeping of those whose relations lived in the settlements further back, and for whom they knew there was now no escape ! But there is no use talking about it. No tongue can find words to picture that night ! Fire and smoke, -•vind and water, all spending their utmost fury; the children crying — ^the timid screaming — the sick in misery — the brava at their wit's end — ^and all fcaowing, too, that we had lost many friends, and all our property. I shudder to think of it," That fire has left singular traces of its journey. The road from Newcastle to Bathurst, near the Bay of Chaleur, passes for five or six miles through a district called the Barrens. Tlie scene which meets the eye of the traveller is, perhaps, unequalled. Far as the eye can reach, upon every side, there is nothing but desolation. The forest extends, as it has done for ages, across plains, and vanishes over the undulating hills which bound the distant horizon. But while all the trees, with most of their branches, remain, spring extracts no bud from them, nor does summer clojhe even a twig with foliage. All is a barren waste. The trees are not black now, but white and bleached by sun and rain; and far to the horizon, round and round, nothing is discerned but one vast and apparently boundless forest of the white skeleton trunks of dead, leafless trees ! That immense tract is doomed to remain barren, perhaps, for ever — at least, for many long years to come. It is avoided by the emigrant, — nay, the very birds and wild beasts seem to' have for ever deserted it. The trees would not, in a coiuitry of forest, pay the expense of cutting them down for firewood, even were the chopping process of half-burnt trunks less difiicult and disagi'eeable than it is ; while the land has become so scourged by the exuberant crop of various plants which grow up in such soil, when cleared hy a fire, as to be comparatively useless in a colony of countless acres yet untouched by the plough of the settler. Though no such fire as that which devastated Miramichi ever visited any of our colonies before or since, yet partial fires are very common. I saw a very respectable Scotch eroi^^rant in Prince Edward Island, whose house was suddenly caught by I AUTUMN WOODS. 78 (ineof those dreadful visitations, and two interesting daughters ^vere burnt alive, 'oefore their father, who escaped, could warn them of their danger. — Norman Macleod, D.D. / road ^ss in a of the AUTUMN WOODS. Ere in the northern gale The summer tresses of the trees are gone, The woods of aiitumn, all around our vale, Have put their glory on. ■ • " The mountains that unfold, In their wide sweep, the colored landscape round, Seem groups of giant kings in purple and gold, That guard the enchanted gi'ound. I roam the woods that crown The upland, where the mingled splendors glow, Where the gay company of trees look down On the green fields below. My steps are not alone In these bright walks ; the sweet south-west, at play, Flies, rustlii'g, where the painted leaves are. strewm Along the winding way. And far in heaven, the while, The sun that sends the gale to wander her^ Fours out on the fair earth his quiet smile-~ The sweetest of the year. O Autumn ! why so soon Depart the hues that make thy forests glad I Thy gentle wind and thy fair sunny noon, And leave thee wild and sad. 74 THE LAZARETTO AT TRACADIE. Ah, 'twere a lot too blest, For ever in thy colored shades "to stray ; Amidst the kisses of the soft south-west To rove and dream for aye j And leave the vain low strife That makes men mad, the tug for wealth and power, The passions and the cares that wither life. And waste its )ittle hour. — Bryant. m THE LAZAEETTO AT TEACADIE. There is an obscure and doubtful story that, some eighty or a hundred years ago, a French ship was wrecked on the shore of the county of Gloucester or Northumberland, and that some of those who escaped from the crew were sailors of Marseilles, who had caught in the Levant the true eastern leprosy, the terrible Elephantiasis Grcecorum. However this may be, there is no doubt that, for many years past, a portion of the French popula- tion of these counties has been afflicted with this fearful malady — or one closely allied to it — probably that form of leprosy which is known to prevail upon the coast of Norway. About twenty years ago the disease seemed to be on the increase, and so great an alarm was created by this fact, and by the allegation (the truth or falsehood of wliich I have never been able satisfactorily to ascertain) that settlers of English descent had caught and died of the disease, that a very stringent law was passed, direct- ing the seclusion of the lepers, and authorizing any member of a local Board of Health, constituted by the Ac*, to commit to the lazaretto any person afflicted with the disorder. After being for a time established at Sheldrake Island, in the Mira- michi river, the hospital was removed to Tracadie, in the county of Gloucester, where it continues +o remain. The situation of the lazaretto is dreary in the extreme, and the view which it commands em.braces no object calculated to please, or i a deed, to arrest the eye. On the one side is a shal- low, turbid sea, which, at the time of my visit, was unenlivened by a single sail; on the other lies a monotonous stretch of barei THE LAZARETTO AT TRACADIB. m cleared land, only relieved by the ugly church and mean wooden houses of a North American village. The outer enclosure of the lazaretto consists of a grass field, containing some three or four acres of land. Within these limits the lepers are now allowed to roam at will. Until lately, however, they were confined to the much narrower bounds of a smaller enclosure, in the centre of the large one, and containing the buildings of the hospital itself. Into their dismal precincts I entered, accompanied by the Roman Catholic Bishop of Chatham, the Secretary to the Board of health, the resident physician, and the Roman Catholic priest of the village, who acts as chaplain to the hospital. Within the inner enclosure are several small wooden build- ings detached from each other, comprising the kitchen, laundry, die, of the esiablishment j one of these edifices, but newly com- pleted, is furnished with a bath — a great addition to the comfort of the unhappy inmates. The hospital itself is a building con- taining two large rooms; the one devoted to the male, and the other to the female patients. In the centre of each room is a stove and table, with a few benches and stools, whilst tlie beds of the patients are ranged along the walls. These rooms are sufficiently light and well ventilated, and, at the time of my visit, were perfectly clean and neat. In the rear of these rooms is a small chapel, so arranged that a window, oV'liquely traversing the wall on each side of the partition which divides the two rooms, enables the patients of either sex to witness the cele- bration of mass without meeting. Through the same apertures confessions are received. I may here remark how curious an illustration is thus afforded to architectural students of the object of these low skew windows, often found in the chancels of ancient churches. In a remote corner of North America, in a new wooden building of modem date, erected by men who aever saw a mediaeval church, or possess the least acquaintance with Gothic architecture, convenience has suggested an arrange- ment precisely similar to that which has long puzzled the anti- quarians and architects of Europe. At the time of my visit there were twenty-three patients in the lazaretto, thirteen males and ten females, all of whom were French Roman Catholics, belonging to families of the lowest class. They were of all ages, and suffering from every stage ol the disease. One old man, whose features were so disfigured as to be barely human, and who appeared in the extremity of W' ■m I;. 'ill III! 76 LEFT ASHORE ON ANTICOSTI. dotage, could hardly be roused from his apathy sufficiently to receive the Bishop's blessing, which was eagerly sought on their knees by the others. But there were also young men, whose arms seemed as strong, and their powers of work and of enjoyment as unimpaired, as they had ever been ; and — saddest sight of all — there were young children condenmed to pass here a life of hopeless misery. I was especially touched by the appearance of three poor boys, between the ages of fifteen and eleven years. To^e ordinary observer they were like other lads — bright-eyed and intelligent enough; but the fatal marks which sufficed t« separate them from the outer world were upon them, and they were now shut up for ever within the walls of the lazaretto. An impression similar in kind, though feebler in degree, is produced by the sight of all the younger patients. There is something appalling in the thought that, from the time of his arrival imtil his death, a period of, perhaps, many long years, a man, though endowed with the capacities^ the passions, and the desires of other men, is condemned to pass from youth to middle life, and from middle life to old age, with no society but that of his fellow-sufferers, with no employment, no amusement, no resource; with nothing to mark his hours but the arrival of some fresh victim ; with nothing to do except to watch his com- panions slowly dying around hun. Hardly any of the patients could read, and those who could had no books. No provision seemed to bft made to furnish them with any occupation, either bodily or mental, and, under these circumstances, I was not surprised to learn that, in the later stages of the disease, the mind generally became enfeebled. — Governor Gordon's ^'Wilderness Journeys in New Brunswick.'' LEFT ASHORE ON ANTICOSTI. At last the boat was lowered, and Halkett and three others, descending noiselessly, motioned to me to follow. I steppe 1 boldly over the side, and waving a last good-bye to those above, sat down in the stem to steer, as I was directed. It was a calm night, witH nothing of a sea, save that rolling heave ever present in the Gulf of St. Lawrence ; and now the men stretched LEFT ASUOitE ON ANTICOSTI. 77 ciently to ought on ung men, work and n ; and — lemned to tiree poor To^e -eyed and ufficed te and they ,zaretto, degree, is •fiere is ime of his ig years, a IS, and the 1 to middle but that of sement, no arrival of sh his com- e patients 5 provision tion, either I was not isease, the meya in t ee others, I steppe 1 lose above, It was a tieave ever stretched to their oars and we daiied swiftly on, not a word breiiking the deep stillness. Although the island lay within six miles, we could see nothing of it against the sky. T have said that nothing was spoken as we rowed along over the durk and swelling water ; but this silence did not impress, me till I saw ahead of us the long low outline of the dreary island, shutting out the horizon ; then a sensation of sickening despair came over me. "Run in here! in this creek!" cried Hidkett to the men; and the boat glided into a little bay of still water under the lee of the land ; and then after about twenty minutes' stout rowing, her keel grated on the shingly shore of Anticosti. " We cannot land you dry shod " said Halkett, " it shoals for some distance here ; so good-bye, lad, good-bye ! " He shook my hand like a vice, and sat down with his back towards me , the others took a kind farewell of me ; and then, shouldering my little bag of biscuits, I pressed my cap down over my eyes and stej)ped into the surf. It was scarcely more than over mid-leg, but the clay -like spongy bottom made it tiresome walk- ing. I had only gone a few hundred yards when a loud cheer struck me ; I turned, it was the boat's crew, giving a parting salute. I tried to answer it, but my voice failed me ; and the next moment they had turned the point, and I saw them no more. I nov/ plodded wearily on, and in about half an hour reached the land ; and whether from weariness, or some strange instinct of security, on touching shore, I know not, but I threw myself heavily down on the shingly stones, and slept soundly ; ay, and di'eamcd too ! dreamed of lands far away, such as I had often read of in books of travels, v/here bright flowers and de- licious fruits were growing, and where birds and insects of gaudiest colors floated past with a sweet murmuring song that made the air tremble. It was just about daybreak as, somewhat stiffened with a sleep on the cold beach, and sore from my recent bruises, I began my march. "Nor'-west and by west," was Halkett's vague direction to mo; but as I had no compass I was left to the guidance of the rising sun for the cardinal points. Not a path or track of any kind was to be seen ; indeed, the surface could scarcely have borne traces of footsteps, for it was one uniform mass of slaty shingh', with, here and there, the backbone of a fish, and scattered iragments of sea- weed washed up by the storms on this low, bleak shore. ir^ , I I ' fr^ ■ ■ 78 LEFT ASIIOKE ON ANTIC09TI. At each little swell of the ground, I g nd eagerly about me, hoping to see the log hut, but in vain : . othing but the same wearisome monotony met my view. The sun was now high, and I could easily see that I was following out the direction Halkett gave me, and which I continued to repeat over and over to myself as I went along. Although I walked from daybreak to late evening, it was only a short time before darkness closed in that I saw a bulky mass straight before me, which I knew must be the log-house. I could scarcely drag my legs along a few moments before ; but now I broke into a run, and, with many a stumble, and more than one fall — for I never turned my eyes from the hut — I at last reached a little cleared spot of ground, in the midst of which stood the "Refuge-house." What a moment of joy was that, as, unable to move further, I sat down upon a little bench in front of the hut. All sense of my loneliness, all memory of my desolation, was lost in an instant. There was my home; how strange a word for that sad-looking hut of pine logs in a lone island, uninhabited. No matter, it would be my shelter and my refuge till better days came round ; and with that stout resolve I entered the great roomy apartment, which, in the setting gloom of night, seemed immense. Striking a light, I proceeded to take a survey of my territory, which, I rejoiced to see, contained a great metal stove, and an abundant supply of bed-clothing, precautions required by the frequency of ships being icebound in these latitudes. ^There were several casks of biscuits, some flour, a large chest of maize, besides three large tanks of water, supplied by the rain. A few bags of salt, and some scattered articles of clothing, completed the catalogue, which, if not very luxurious, contained nearly everything of absolute necessity. I lighted a good fire in the stove, less because I felt cold, for it was still autumn, than for the companionship of the bright blaze and the crackling wood. This done, I proceeded to make myself a bed on one of the platforms, arranged like bed-places round the walls, and of which I saw the upper ones seemed to have a preference in the opinion of my predecessors, since in these the greater part of the bed-clothing was to be found, a choice I could easily detect the reason of, in the troops of rats which walked to and fro, with a most contemptuous indifierence to my presence, some of them standing near me while I made my bed; and looking, as doubtless they felt, considerably surprised LEFT ASHORE ON AKTICOSTI. 79 bout me, ;he same ow high, direction and over g, it was a bulky og-house. (fore J but and more hut — I at midst of e further, All sense lost in an 1 for that ited. No etter days the great It, seemed •vey of my letal stove, B required latitudes, arge chest ied by the articles of luxurious, ; lighted a i was still blaze and ike myself aces round 1 to have a these the a choice I rats which fference to ; made my surprised at the nature of my operations. Promising myself to open a spirited campaign against them on the morrow, I trimmed and lighted a large lamp, which, from its position, had defied their attempt on the oil it still contained; and then, a biscuit in hand, betook myself to bed, watching with an interest, not, I own, altogether pleasant, the gambols of these primitive natives of AnticostL If I slept then, it was more owing to my utter weariness and exhaustion than to my languid frame of mind ; and although too tired to dream, my first waking thought was how to com- mence hostilities against the rats. As to any personal hand-to- hand action, I need scarcely say I declined engaging in such ; and my supply of gunpowder being scanty, the method I hit upon was to make a species of grenade, by inserting a quantity of powder, with a sufficiency of broken glass, into a bottle, leaving an aperture through the end for a fusee ; then, having smeared the outside of the bottle plentifully with oil, of which I dis- covered a supply in bladders suspended from the ceiling, I retired to my berth with the other extremity of the fusee in my hand, ready to ignite when the moment came. I had not long to wait; my enemies, bold from long impunity, "^ame fearlessly forward, and surrounded the bottle in myriads; it became a scene like an election row to witness their tumbling and rolling over each other in the action. Nor could I bring myself to cut short the festivity till I began to entertain fears for the safety of the bottle, which already seemed to be loosened from its bed of clay. Then, at last, I handed a match to my end, and almost before I could cover my head with the blanket, the flask exploded with a crash and a cry that showed me its suc- cess. The battle-field was truly a terrible sight, for the wounded were far more numerous than the dead, and I, shame to say, had neither courage nor humanity to finish their sufferings, but lay still imtil their companions dragged them av;ay, in various stages of suffering. Between my hours spent on the little wooden bench outside the door, and the little duties of my household, -with usually three or four explosions against my rats, the day went over — I will not say rapidly — but pass it did ; and each night brought me nearer to the time when I should hoist my signal and hope for rescue. On the morning of the fifth day, as I left the hut, I beheld, about four miles oflf, a large thi'ee-masted vessel bearing up the w 80 LEFT ASHORE ON ANTICOSTI. !^ Gulf, with all her canvas spread Forgetting the distance, and everything save my longing to be free, I ascended a little eminence, and shouted with all my might, waving my handker- chief back and forward above my head. I cannot describe the transport of delight I felt at perceiving that a flag was hoisted to the main peak, and soon after lowered — a recognition of the signal which floated above me. I even cried aloud with joy, and tlicn, in tlie eagerness of my ecstasy, I set off* along the shoie, seeking out the best place for a boat to run in. At last she backed her topsail, and now I saw shooting out from beneath her tall sides a light pinnace that skimmed the water like a sea* bird. As if thoy saw me, they headed exactly towards where I stood, and ran tho craft into a little bay just at my feet. A crew of four sailors and coxswain ntDW jumped ashore and advanced towards me. "Are there many of you?" said the coxswain, gruffly, and as though nothinfj were a commoner occurrence in life than to rescue a poor forlorn fellow-creature from an uninhabited rock. "I am alone, sir," said I, almost bursting into tears, for mingled joy and disappointment. " What ship did you belong to, boy 1 " asked he, as shortly as before. " A yacht, sir, — the Fire-Jly." ** Ah, that's it ; so they shoved you ashore here. That's what comes of sailing with gentlemen, as they call them." "No, sir ; we landed — a few of is— during a calm " " Ay ay " he broke in, " I know all that — the old story ; you landed to shoot rabbits, and somehow you got separated from the others ; the wind sprung up meantime — ^the yacht fired a gun to come off — eh, isn't that it ? Come, my lad, no gam- mon with me. You're some young scamp that was had up for pimisliment, and they either put you ashore here for the rats, or you jumped overboard yourself, and floated here on a spare hen- coop. But never mind — we'll give you a run to Quebec ; jump in." I followed the order with alacrity, and soon found myself on board the Hampden transport, which was conveying the — th Regiment of Foot to Canada. ' '■' • — Leter. LABRADOR AND OTHER TEAS. LABRADOR AND OTHER TEAS. 81 1t*HE well-known tea-plant of China is not the only shrub which furnishes tlie wor'.d with the "cup that cheers but not inebii- ates." Other portions of the globe, and particularly in the western hemisphere, minister in a similar manner to the luxu- ries of mankind. There is a shrub called by botanists Ledum, belonging to the same great family as the wintergreen and the bear-berry, from which the Indians manufacture their kinni- kinnic, that con t (ins many of the qualities of the tea-plant. It is to be found growing abundantly in the sterile wastes of Labrador, and over the more northern parts of the continent, never extending further south than the New England States, and rarely showing itself in Western Canada. This Ledum, or Labrador tea, as it is named, is a low evergreen shrub, with thick dark green leaves, that seem to be lined with a rusty-looking wool, and presenting a profusion of handsome white flowers in large terminal clusters. It gi'ows in marshy places, or in cold, damp moors, on mountain sides, out of the domain of civilized man. The leaves of this plant are dried by the Indians, and a very palatable tea is infused fiom them. In the " North- West Passage by Land," written by Lord Milton and Dr. Cheadle, this tea is thus spoken of : — "We had tea, too — not indeed the dark decoction of black Chinese indulged in by unthrifty bachelors, or the green bever- age affected by careful, mature spinsters — but the "tea muskeg" used by the Indians. This is made from the leaves and flowers of a small white azalea, which we find in considerable quantities growing in the boggy ground near our ^amp. The decoction is really a good substitute for tea, and ve became very fond of it. The taste is like ordinary black tea, with a dash of senna in it." Two other substitutes for tea ar>3 to be found in North America. One of these is an evergreen of the holly family, called Prinos glabra, or the inkberry shrub ; but the moat important is the Ceanothus, or New .Tersey tea. When the American people were foolish enouii'li to throw overboard the cargoes of good Chinese teas which Iiad been sent out to them, and followed this act by open rebellion against the British crown, the Ceanothus was made to do duty for the foreign shrub, and has thus acquired historical celebrity. This low straggling shrub, with its downy branches, bright greeu oval leaves, and feathery clusters of wliite flowers, belongs F w 82 LADKADOR AND OTHER TEAS. li I to the buckthorn family, of which certain species arc also used in Abyssinia and among the poorer classes in China, as substi- tutes for the genuine tea-plant. It is to l»e found fji'owiujx abuiiduiitiy in the temperate regions of British America, and in the north of the United States. A short time ago, a speculator announced that he had succeeded in growing the Chinese tea- plant in Pennsylvania, and sold large quantities of native- grown American teas, wliich turned out to be nothing more than the old Revolutionary substitute, or New Jersey tea. Turning to the Southern Continent, we find at least two of the peoples inhabiting it provided with similar substitutes. In Brazil, two plants belonging to the verbena family are mado use of sometimes to adulterate Chinese tea, but more frequently to usurp its place altogether. One of these is sold very ex- iv^nsively in the Austrian dominions, under the name of Brazilian tea; the other is highly esteemed by the South American people. But a still greater favorite, and more extensively used shrub, is a member of the holly family, closely connected with the Priuos glabra of North America. It is known by the name of mat6, and flourishes in the republic of Paraguay, whence it is called Paraguay tea. Even in the Eastern Hemisphere, the Chinese shrub is not allowed to have it all ita o'vvn way. The Malays of Sumatra and the other islands of the Eastern Archipelago, as well as the Australians, employ the leaves of certain trees of the myrtle family, one of which they call "The tree of long life," in the same manner as more civilized peoples their pounds of tea and coffee. In Japam, also, there grows a species of hydrangea, the leaves of which afford so excellent a decoction that the enthusiastic Japanese call it amortsja, or the tea of heaven. It would hardly be fjxir to dismiss tea-plants without a notice of the famous one of China, which has held its place in spite of all opposition, and seems likely to outlive all the substitutes that have been proposed for it. The tea of commerce is derived from three species of a genus or kind of plants called thea, belonging to the same family as the beautiful camelias of the greenhouse. These are cultivated very extensively, and with the greatest care, in many parts of the vast Chinese empire i after an interesting process of drying and curing, the leaves are packed in wooden boxes, and sent in immense quantities to eveiy quarter of the globe, to refresh and iuvigorai^e the "^irorld's millions of tea-drinkers. — CamjpbeWs Fourth Header, a ci ih STOUT or WAPWIAN. 3a, STORY OP WAPWIAN. "Well do I remember the first time I stumblod upon the Indian village in which he lived. I had set out from Montreal with two trappers to pay a visit to the Labnidor coast ; we had travelled most of the way in a small Indian canoe, coaatinj^ alons the northern shore of the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and reconnoitiing in the woods for portages to avoid rounding long capes and points of land, and sometimes in search of game— for we depended almost entirely on our guns for food. "It was upon one of the latter occasions that I went off, accompanied by one of the trappers, while the other remained to watch the canoe, and prepare our encampment for the night. We were unsuccessful, and after a long walk thought of return- ing to our camp empty-handed, when a loud whirring sound in the bushes attracted our attention, and two partridges |)crehed upon a tree quite near us. We shot them, and fixing them in our belts, retraced our way towards the coast with lighter hearts. Just as we emerged from the dense forest, however, on one side of an open space, a tall, muscular Indian, strode from amonf^' the bushes, and stood before us. He was dressed in the blanket capote, cloth leggings, and scarlet cap usually worn by the Abcna- kies, and other tribes of the Labrador coast. A red deerskin shot-pouch, and a powder-horn, hung round his neck, and at his side were a beautifully-ornamented fire-bag and scalping-knife. A common g\m lay in the hollow of his left arm, and a pair of ornamental moccasins covered his feet. He was, indeed, a handsome-looking fellow, as he stood scanning us rapidly with hifi jet-black eyes while we approached him. We accosted him, and informed him (for he understood a little French) whence we came, and our object in visiting his part of the country. He received our advances kindly, accepted a piece of tobacco that we offered him, and told us that his name was Wapwian, and that we were welcome to remain at his village — to which he offered to conduct us — as long as we pleased. After a little hesitation, we accepted his invitation to remain a few days ; the more so as, by so doing, we woidd have an opportunity of getting some provisions to enable us to continue our journey. In half an hour we reached the brow of a small eminence, whence the curling smoke of the wigwams was visible. The tents were pitched on the shores of a small bay or inlet, guarded from the \ IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) ■r 1.0 I.I L25 11.4 UiKS |2.S |50 *^~ H^H 1^ ^ 12.2 1.6 V] V] ^;. Photographic Sciences Corporation £: •s^ \ «- «^,» 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 6^ 'w'v HI ■TORT OF WAPWIAN. eafit 'wind by a high precipice of nigged rocks, around which hundreds of sea fowl sailed in graceful flights. Beyond this headland, stretched the majestic Gulf of St. Lawrence ; while to the h^ft, the village was shaded by the spruce fir, of which most of this part of the forest is composed. There were, in all, about a dozen tents, made of dressed deerskin, at the openings of which might be seen groups of little children, playing on the grass, or running after their mothers as they went to the neigh- boring rivulet for water, or launched their canoes to examine the nets in the bay " Wapwian paused to gaze an instant on the scene, and then, descending the hill with rapid strides, entered the village, and despatched a little boy for our companion in the encampment. " We were ushered into a tent somewhat elevated above the others, and soon were reclining on a sofa full of pine branches, smoking in company with oiu: friend Wapwian, while his pretty little squaw prepared a kettle of fish for supper. " We spt;nt two happy days in the village — hunting deer with our Indian friend, and assisting the squaws in their fishing operations. On the third morning we remained in the camp to dry the venison, and prepare for our departure; while Wapwian shouldered his gun, and calling to his nephew, a slim, active youth of eighteen, bade him follow with his gun, as he intended to bring back a few ducks for his white brothers. " The two Indians proceeded for a time along the shore, and then striking off into the forest, threaded their way among the thick bushes, in the direction of a chain of small lakes where wild fowl were numerous. " For some time they moved rapidly along under the sombre shade of the trees, casting from time to time sharp giancei into the surrounding underwood. Suddenly the elder Indian paused and thrftw forward his gun, as a slight rustling in the bushes struck his ear. Tlie boughs bent and crackled a few yards in advance, and a large black bear crossed the path and enterc;d the underwood on the other side. Wapwian fired at him instantly, and a savage gi'owl told that the shot had taken elFect. The gun, however, had been loaded with small shot; and although when he fired the bear was only a few yards off, yet the improbability of its having wounded him badly, and the distance they had to go ere they reached the lakes, inclined him e chase. While Wapwian was loadinsr give up gun, Miniquan (his nephew) had been examining the bear's track, STORY OF WAPWIAN. 89 he at Uhe him ick. and returned, Raying that he was sure the animal must be badly wounded, for there was much blood on the track. At first the elder Indian refused to follow it; but seeing that his nephew wished very much to kill the brute, he at last consented. As the trail of the bear was much covered with blood, they foimd no difficulty in tracking it; and after a short walk they foimd him extended on his Bide at the foot of a large tree, apparently lifeless. Wapwian, however, was too experienced a hunter to trust himself incautiously within its reach; so he examined the priming of his gun, and then, advancing slowly to the animal, pushed it with the muzzle. In an instant the bear sprang upon him, regardless of the shot lodged in its breast, and in another moment Wapwian lay stunned and bleeding at the monster's feet. Miniquan was at first so thunderstruck, as he gazed in horror at the savage animal tearing with bloody jaws the sense- less form of his uncle, that he stood rooted to the ground. It was only for a moment — the next, his gun was at his shoulder, and after filing at, but unfortunately, in the excitement of the moment, missing the bear, he attacked it with the butt of his gun, which he soon shivered to pieces on its skull. This drew the animal for a few moments from Wapwian; and Mini- quan, in hopes of leading it from the place, ran off in the direction of the village. The bear, however, soon gave up the chase, and returned again to its victim. Miniquan now saw that the only chance of saving his relative was to alarm the village ; so, tightening his belt, he set off with the speed of a hunted deer in the direction of the camp. In an incredibly short time he amved, and soon returned with the trappers and myself. Alas ! alas ! it was too late. Upon arriving at the spot we foimd the bear quite dead, and the noble, generous Wapwian, extended by its side, torn and lacerated in such a manner that we could scarcely recognize him. He still breathed a little, however, and appeared to know me, as I betit over him and tried to close his gaping wounds. We constructed a inide oouch of branches, and conveyed him slowly to the village. No word of complaint, or cry of sorrow, escaped from his wife as we laid his bleeding form in her tent. She seemed to have lost the power pf speech, as she sat, hour after hour, gazing in unutterable despair on the mangled form of her husband. Poor Wapwian lingered for a week in a state of unconsciousnesa His skull had been fractured, and he lay almost in a state of inseusibilitiy, and never spoke, save when, in a fit of delirium, 86 THE MAPL& ;«! t- i I 4! m his fancy wandei'ed back to bygone days, wh^n be ranged the forest with a tiny bow in chase of little birds and squirrels, strode in the vigor of manhood over frozen plains of snow, or dashed down foaming currents and mighty rivera in his light canoe. Then a shade would cross his brow as he thought, perhaps, of his recent struggle with the bear, and he would again i-elapse into silence. " He recovered slightly before his death ; and once he smiled, as he recognized his wife, but he never spoke to any one. We scarcely Imew when his spirit fled, so calm and peaceful was his end. *' His body now reposes beneath the spreading branches of a lordly pine, near the scenes of his childhood; where he had spent lus youth, and where he met his untimely end." — Ballantyne's " Hudton't Bay,'* ^ THE MAPLE. All hail to the broad-leaved Maple ! With its fair and changeful dreas— « A type of our yoang country In its pride and loveliness; Whether in Spring or Summer, Or in the dreary Fall, 'Mid Nature's forest children, She's fairest of them alL Down sunny slopes and valleys Her graceful form is seen. Her wide, umbrageous branches The sun-burnt reaper screen; 'Mid the dark-browed firs and cedars Her livelier colors shine, Like the dawn of a brighter future On the settler's hut of pine. She crowns the pleasant hill-top, Whispers on breezy downs. And casts refreshing shadows O'er the streets of our busy towns; A THE MAPLB. (>7 She gladdens the aching eye-ball, Shelters the weary head, And scatters her crimson glories On the graves of the silent dead. When Winter's frosts are yielding To the sun's returrxlng sway, And merry groups aie speeding To sugar-woods away; • The sweet and welling juices, Which form their welcome spoil, Tell of the teeming plenty, Which here waits honei^ toil. When sweet-toned Spring, soft-breathing. Breaks Nature's icy sleep, And the forest boughs are swajdng Like the green waves of the deep; In her fair and budding beauty, A fitting emblem she Of this our land of promise, Of hope, of liberty. And when her leaves, all crimsdn, Droop silently and fall, •. Like drops of me-blood welling From a warrior brave and tall; They tell how fast and freely Would her children's blood be shed, Ere the soil of our faith and freedom Should echo a foeman's tread. Then hail to the broad-leaved Maple! With her fair and changeful dress — A type of our youthful country In its pride and loveliness; Whether in Spring or Summer, Or in the dreary Fall, *Mid Nature's forest childi'en. She's fairest of them ail. —Rev. H. F. Darnell. ' « 88 ,'iV DEATH OF MUNTCAUL DEATH OF MONTCALM. A DEi^TH no less glorious closed the caFeer of the brave Marqtiis de Montcalm, who commanded the French army. He was several years older than Wolfe, and had served -his king with honor and success in Italy, Germany, and Bohemia. In the earlier campaigns of this war he had given signal proofs of zeal, consummate prudence, and undaunted valor. At the capture of Oswego he Iwl, with his own hand, wrested a color from the hand of an English officer, and sent it to be hung up in the Cathedral of Quebec. He had deprived the English of Fort William Henry; and had defeated General Abercrombie at Ticonderoga. He had even foiled Wolfe himself at Montmo' renci; and had erected lines which it was impossible to force. When, therefore, he entered the Plains of Abraham at the head of a victorious army, he wa& in all respects an antagonist worthy of the British general. The intelligence of the unexpected landihg of Wolfe above the town was first conveyed to the Marquis de Vaudreuil, the Governor-General, about day-break. By him it was communi- cated without delay to Montcalm. Nothing could exceed the astonishment of the latter at the intelligence — ^he refused at first to give credence to it, observing, "It is only Mr. Wolfe, with a small party, come to bum a few houses, look about him, and return." On being informed, however, that Wolfe was at that moment in possession of the Plains of Abraham, — "Then," said he, "they have at last got to the weak side of this miserable garrison. Therefore, we must endeavor to crush them by our numbers, and scalp them all before twelve o'clock." He issued immediate orders to break up the camp, and led a considerable portion of the army across the River St. Charles, in order to place them between the city and the English. Vaudreuil, on quitting the lines at Beauport, gave orders to the rest of the troops to follow him. On his arrival at the Plains, however, he met the French army in full flight towards the bridge of boats; and learned that Montcalm had been dangerously wounded. In vain he attempted to rally them — ^the rout was general — and all hopes of retrieving the day, and of saving the honor of France, were abandoned. Montcalm was first wounded by a musket shot, fighting in the froLo rank of the French left, — and afterwards by a discharge from the only gun in the possessioii of the English. He waf u 'm DEATH OF MONTCAUL M *» the then on hoiw^ack, directing the retreat-— nor did he dismount uutii he had taken every measura to ensui'e the safety of the remains of his army. Such was the impetuosity with which the Highlanders, supported by the 58th Regiment, pressed the rear of 5ie fugitives — shaving thrown away their muskets and taken tto their broadswords — ^that had the distance been greater from the field of battle to the walls, the whole French army would inevitably have been destroyed. As it was, the troops of the line had been almost out to pieces, when their pursuers were forced to retire by the fire from the ramparts. Great numbers were killed in the retreat, which was made obliquely from the River St. Lawrence to the St Charles. Some severe fighting took place in the field in front of the martello tower, No. 2. We are informed by an officer of the garrison, that on digging there some years ago, a number of skeletons were found with parts of soldiers' dress, military buttons, buckles, and other remains. It is reported of Montcalm, when his wounds were dressed, that he requested the surgeons in attendance to declare at once whether they were mortal. On being told that they were so, — *'I am glad of it," — said he. He then inquired how long he might survive. He was answered, — "Ten or twelve hoiuis; perhaps less." — "So much the better," — ^replied he, — "then I shall not live to see the • surrender of Quebec." On being afterwards visited by M. de Ramesay, who commanded the garrison, with the title of Lieutenant du Moi, and by the Commandant de Roussillon, he said to them, — "Gentlemen, I commend to your keeping the honor of France. Endeavor to secure the retreat of my army to-night beyond Cape Rouge; for myself, I shall pass the night with G^, and prepare myself for death." On M. de Ramesay pressing to receive his commands respecting the defence of Queb^, Montcalm exclaimed with emotion, — "I will neither give orders, nor interfere any fuiiher: I have much business that must be attended to, of greater moment than your ruined garrison, and this wretched country. — My time is very short — so pray leave me. — I wish you all comfort, and to be happily extricated from your present perplexities" He then addressed himself to his religious duties, and passed the night with the Bishop and his own confessor. Before he died, he paid the victorious army this magnanimous compliment: — "Since it was my mis- Ibrtune to be discomfited and mortally wounded,, it is a great oonsolatioxi to lie to be vanquished by so brave and generous IPM 90 lilMES ON THE DEATH OF WOLFE. an enemj. If I could survive this wound, I would engage to beat three times the number of such forces as I commanded this morning, with a third of British troops." Almost his last act was to write a letter, recommending the French prisoners to the generosity of the victors. He died at five o'clock in the morning of the 14th September; and was buried in an excavation, made by the bursting of a AieW within the precincts of the Ursuline Convent — a fit resting place for the remains of a man who died fighting for the honor and defence of his country. — Ptcfttre of Quehee, LINES ON THE DEATH OP WOLFE. Amidst the damor of exulting joys^ Which triumph forces from the patriot heart» Grief dares to mingle her soul-piercing voice, And quells the raptures which from pleasure start O Wolfe, to thee a streaming flood of woe Sighing we pay, and think e'ei) conquest dear; ' Quebec in vain shall teach our breast to glow, Whilst thy sad fate extorts the heart-wrung tear. Alive, the foe thy dreadful vigor fled, And saw thee fall with joy-pronouncing eyes; ^ Yet they shall know thou conquerest, though dead^ Since from thy tomb a thousand heroes risa * # — QOLDBUXTB. THE RIVER ST. LAWRENCR The noble river which Cartier was thus the first to ezplore, is unique in its peculiarities, and perhaps unequalled by any other in the world. The magnificent lakes, or rather inland seas of which it is the outlet, which maintain the even and unvaiying flow of its majestic current, are assumed, upon solid grounds, to contain half the fresh water on th s planet. The quantity THE RIVER ST. LAWRBNCB. 91 discharged hourly by this amasdng flood is estimated at 1,672,704,000 cubic ieet. Its basin is divided into three parts, the higher being occupied by Lake Superior, three hundred miles in leiifrth, and receiving moi-e than fifty rivers. Through the falls of St. Mary, the whole of its watero pours into the Lakes Michigan and Huron, of scarcely inferior dimensioiis. The almost imfathomable depths of theee lakes is a most interesting phenomenon in physical geography. Though the surface of the two lower is 618 feet above the Athintic level, their bottoms are nearly 300 feet below it. By the straits of Detroit, these upper lakes pour down into the basin of Lake Erie, which is 230 miles in length. The narrow strait — ^where the whole of this immense body rolls for ever in its resistless might over the %iblime cliffs of Nia^^ara, and then forms for several miles of swift descent one continuous and terrific rapid, one whirl of foam and terror, through the profound and narrow chasm which it has excavated in the course of ages, — ^is altogether unequalled in its fearful sublimity upon our globe. By this channel, it descends to the level of Lake Ontario, the last and lowest of these inland seas, 200 miles long by 70 broad. The river, as it flows out of the lake, varies from two to ten miles wide, and is divided into numerous' channels of every width, as it passes through the " Thousand Isles." These are of every size and form, and for the most part in a state d primeval nature, forming a scene of soft and romantic beauty, of dreamy, fairy strangeness — of fantastic intricacy, in striking contrast to the terrific grandeur of Niagara. Hunying on, with its burden of timber-rafts, over the tremendous rapids of the Long Sault and La Chine (which interruptions are stir- mounted by ship canals), it is increased by the influx of the romantic Ottawa, and flows past the city of Montreal, the growing emporium of Canada, receiving, as it proceeds on its course, the waters of Lakes George and Champlain, to expand at length, in all its glory, beneath the crested crags of Quebec. To this city, the great timber depot, it is 550 miles from the sea, navigable for i^ps of the line of the flrst-class, while vessels of considerable size ascend to Montreal, which is upwards of 730 miles above the Gulf of the St. Lawrence. > The whole of this stupendous basin (which, when Cartier flrst entered it, was the haimt of the roaming savage) is fast filling up and becoming the seat of a mighty nation. But three cen* torieB since it was discovered^ — how much of romantic incident J ^ t ^ J, 92 THE RIVEfi ST. LAWRENCB. il of momentous change, of astonishing progress, has filled up th« short but eventful period ! Upon these lakes, then skimmed only by the wandering canoe, hostile fleets have been built, and have contended in deadly conflict. On one of its shores, feeble colonies have sprung up into an independent nation, rivalling in power the proudest states of the Old World. Populous cities adorn the banks of these gieat inland waters, and splendid steam-boats connect their i*emotest exti'emitie& Canals have been cut to overcome the occasional obstacles presented by nature, and a chain of internal water communication, extending fi om the Atlantic many hundreds of miles into the heart of this mighty continent, serves as a highway for the countless emigrants who are continually pouring into it from all the nations of the civilized world. * There are some striking peculiarities in the St. Lawrence, as contrasted with its great rival, the Mississippi The forruer is as limpid in its waters, and as unalterable in their level, as tho latter is turbid, and with its swelling inundations ovei-flows its banks for miles round. The St. Lawrence is magnificently beautiful; the grandeur of the Mississippi is gloomy and oppres* sive. It is in moral keeping with this physical contrast that the banks of the St. Lawi-ence have been settled by freemen alont>, and have never echoed, like those of the Mississippi, to the lash of the slave-master, or the groan X)f the captive ; but many a himted fugitive from the southern strongholds of slavery, as he has passed its broad stream and felt himself on British ground, has blessed his God who has enabled him to reach an asylum of liberty. No river can exhibit a greater variety of scenery;- here the aim and grassy expanse, studded with verdurous islands; there, wild and tumultuous rapids, with the immense rafts that hurry down their foaming waters. Sometimes for miles, all is the imbroken solitude of primeval nature ; the canoe of the Indian is still seen paddling from shore to shore, his bark wigwam still glimmers amid the dusky shades of the forest; and then succeeds the pleasant, quaint, white village of the French settlers, with its antique vanes, and spire, and cross. What more picturesque than old Quebec, with its rock-built citadel and antiquated buildings 1 Nor is there in the New World any river with such stirring, though often painful associations, as the St Lawrence. The derotedness of the first Catholic mis- sionaries, who counted not their lives dear ir. planting the cross ii-i JACQUES CARTIER AT HOCHCLAOA. 93 ^/ Among the Indian savages; their triaU and their martyrdom; together with the warlike feats of Wolfe, and Montcalm, and Montgomery, have thrown over its bajiks a troubled but romantic hala — Ll \l i : 98 QALLANTRT OF A MARIN& GALLANTRY OP A MARINR During the summer of 1838, the peace of our North American provinces was disturbed by Canadian insurgents and American sympathizers. Among other places attacked was the town of Prescott, in Canada West, which was defended by a few men of the 83rd Regiment, thirty of the Royal Marines, and such of the Glengarry Militia as had had time to collect. The American forces, after landing, had t;iken up a position ii* which they were protected by the walls of an orchard, from behind which they kept up a galling fire upon the advancing marines, while the latter pushed on, firing as objects presented themselves. In this position of affairs, lance-corporal James Hunn, who was on the right of the British line, ran forward and jumped over the wall which covered the American sharpshooters, but found himself on their extreme left, and almost in contact with six or seven of them, who were separated from the main body by another wall running perpendicularly to that which covered their front. These men were either loading, or in the act of firing at the advancing marines, when Hunn leapt the wall, and were BO intent upon their occupation that they did not notice him until he was upon them, so that he was able to close with them, and was seen by his comm^.nding officers to bayonet three, one after another, before they had time to load their pieces and fire. A fourth man, whose piece was loaded, turned and fired : his ball struck the swell of Hunn's musket, where it was grasped by the left hand, which it passed through, destroying the second finger ; while, at the same time the musket was driven so violently against his stomach as for a moment to suspend his breath. Recovering himself, however, he fired effectively at his adversary, now in full retreat ; but his disabled hand prevented his again loading, and he was most unwillingly compelled to give up any further share in the glory of the day, after having thus disposed of four of the enemy. Himn was, in consequence of his intrepidity on this occasion, promoted to the rank of sergeant, without passing through tho intermediate grade of corporal. He died a year or two after, a victim to yellow fever, while serving in the Arab on the coast of Africa. — CasaelVs Family Papers riSHIlfO FOB MUSKALOUKQI. 99 FISHINO FOR MUSKALOUNGB. A FaiiEND and ourself took a small skiff, with one trolling line, intending to take turns at the oars, and proceed at once to a favorite spot among "The Thousand Islands." We held the trolling line, with a spoon-hook attached, while our companion pulled the oars. We sailed among the secluded placed, wherever weeds were seen below the svirface of the water, and were rewarded with 'good sport by taking several fine pike, weighing from six to fifteen poimds, which we managed to secure with ease, save the largest, whicn gave us some trouble. We then thought we would try deeper water, in the hope of tempting larger fi^h. A few windings among the clusters of small islands brought us to the channel of the river, when we directed our companion to increase the speed of the skiff, determined that the curiosity of no fish should be satisfied without first tasting our gilded spoon. We pulled for half a mile, when the river woimd suddenly round an island, which presented a bold shore, from the rushing of the river's current. The tall forest trees extended to the very brink of the river, over which they hung, throwing a deep shadow on the water. This quiet spot looked as though it might be an attractive one for some solitary fish, and we accordingly took a sweep aroimd the foot of the island. Scarcely had we entered the deep shade spoken of, when we felt a tug at our line, which was so strong that we supposed our hook had come in contact with a floating log or fallen tree. Our companion backed water with his oans to relieve our hook, when another violent pull at our line Cvnvinced us that it was no log, but some living creatm*e of great weight. Our line was already out its full length of one hundred and fifty feet ; no alternative was therefore left but to give the fish more line by rowing after him. • This we did for a few minutes, when we began to pull in tlie slack of our line, some fifty feet or more, when we felt the fish. The check was no sooner felt by him than he started forward with a velocity scarcely conceivable in the water, bringing the line taut, and the next moment our skiff waa moving off, stem foremost, towards the river's channel. We soon perceived thai our fish had turned his head up stream, and as the water was deep, there was no danger of his coming in contact with weeds 100 VlBaiJKQ FOB MUSKALOUNaE. or protruding rocks. We therefore allowed him to tow us for about five minutes, when he stopped. Then quickly backing water with our oars, and taking in our line, we carefully laid it over the skiff's side, until we had approached within twenty feet of our fish. We then gave hun another check, which probably turned his head, for he again darted off in a contrary direction down stream. We pulled our skiff in the same direction as fast as possible, to give the fish a good nm before checking him again, but he soon had the line out its full length, and was again towing our skiff after him with more rapidity than before. This did not last long, however, for we then to:)k the line and hauled towaids him to lessen our distance. He made another slap, when we managed to keep the line taut^ and with our oars moved towards him. Our victim now lay oa t]ie surface of the water with his belly upward, appai'ently exhausted, when we found him to be a muskalounge, between five and six feet in length. We had no sooner got him along- side than he gave a slap with his tail, and again darted ofi' the whole length of the line, taking us once more in tow. His run was now short, and it was evident he was getting tired of the business. Again the line slacked, and we drew the skiff up to the spot where he lay turned on his back. He now seemed so far gone that we thought we might draw him into our skiff, so we reached out our gaff and hooked him under the jaw, while my companion passed his oar under him. In this way we contrived to raise him over the gunwale of the skiff, when he slid to its bottom. We then placed our foot at the back of his head to hold him down, in order to disengage our hook, which passed through his upper jaw. No sooner had we attempted this than he began to flap about, compelling us to give him room to avoid his immense jaws. Every moment seemed to increase his strength, when our companion seized an oar in order to despatch him, while we took out our knife for the same purpose. The first blow with the oar had only the effect to awaken our fish, which, taking another and more powerful somerset, threw himself over the gunwale of our skiff, which was but a few inches above the water, and with a plunge disappeared in the deep water at our side. We had scarcely recovered from our surprise, when we found the line drawn out again to its full length, save a few tangles and twists, which had got into it in the struggle between us and our fish. We determined to trifle no longer with the fellow. 8QT7I11R1CL8. 101 with our fimall skifiT, but to make for the shore and there land him. A small island, a short distance from us, seemed to present a convenient place, and here, without further ceremony, we pulled, towing our fish after us. We leaped into the water about ten feet from the shore, and tugged away at our victim, who floated like a log upon the water, while my companion stood by with an oar to make the capture more sure this time. In this way we landed him in safety, just one hour and a quarter after he was first hooked. Tins muskalounge weighed forty-nine pounds, and had within him a pike of three pounds weight, a chub, partially decomposed, of four pounds, and a perch of one and a half pounds, which appeared to have been but recently swallowed ; yet this fish's appetite was not eatisfied and he lost his life in grasping at a glittering bauble. Any person who has ever killed a pike of ten pounds or upwards, oan readily imagine the strength of one four times that weight. — Lanmai^'s "Adventv/res." SQUIRRELS. During our voyage, just at the head ')f the rapids, our attention was drawn to some small object in the water, moving very swiftly along There were various opinions as to the swim- mer, some thinking it to be a water-snake; others, a squirrel or a musk-rat. A few swift strokes of the paddle brought us up so as to intercept the p§l^age of the little voyager; it proved to be a fine red squirrel, bound on a voyage of discovery from a neighboring island. The little animal, with a courage and address that astonished his pursuers, instead of seeking safety in a different direction, sprang lightly on the point of the uplifted paddle, and from thence, with a bound, to the head of my astonished baby, and, having gained my shoulder, leaped again into the water, and made direct for the shore, never having deviated a single point from the line he was swimming in when he first came in sight of our canoe. I was surprised and amused by the agility and courage displayed by this innocent creature; I could hardly have given credence to the circumstance had I not been an eye-witness of its conduct, and, moreover, been wetted plentifully on my ohuulder by the sprinkling of water from his coat I if HI 102 8QUIEBEL8. Perhaps you may think my squirrel anecdote inoredible; but I can vouch for the truth of it on my own personal experience, is I not only saw but also felt it The black squirrels are most lovely and elegant animals, considerably larger than the red, the gray, and the striped : the latter are called by the Indians "chip-munks." We were robbed greatly by these little depredators last summer. The red squirrels used to carry off great quantities of our Indian com, not only from the stalks, while the com was ripening, but they even came into the house through some chinks in the log-walls, and carried off vast quantities of the grain, stripping it very adroitly from the cob, and conveying the grain away to their storehouses in some hollow log or subterranean granary. These little animals are very fond of the seeds of the pumpkins, and you will see the soft creatures whisking about among the cattle, carrying away the seeds as they are scattered by the beasts in breakmg the pumpkins : they also delight in the seeds of the sunflowers, which grow to a gigantic height in our gardens and clearings. The fowls are remarkably fend of the sunflower seeds, and I saved the plants with the intention of laying up a good store of winter-food for my poor chicks. One day I went to cut the ripe heads, the largest of which was the size of a large dessert plate, but found two wicked red squirrels busily employed gathering in the seeds, not for me, be sure, but themselves. Not contented with picking out the seeds, these little thieves dexterously sawed through the stalks, and conveyed away whole heads at once : so bold were they that they would not desist when I approached till they had secured their object; and, encumbered with a load twice the weight of their own agile bodies, ran with swiftness along the rails, and over root, stump, and log, till they eluded my pursuit. Great was the indignation expressed by this thrifty little pair, on returning again for another load, to find the plant divested of the heads. I had cut what remained and put them in a basket in the sun, on a small block in the garden, close to the open glass-door, on the steps of which I was sitting shelling some seed beans, when the squirrels drew my attention to them by their sharp, scolding notes, elevating their fine feathery tails, and expressing the most lively indignation at the invasion. They were not long before they discovered the Indian basket with the ravished treasure; a few rapid mov». ments brought the little pair to the rails, within a few paces of IKDLlM bummbb. 103 me and the sunflower heads; here, then, they paused, and, sitting up, looked in my face with the most imploring gestures. I was too much amused by their perplexity to help them ; but, turning away my head to speak to the child, they darted forwai:3, and in another minute had taken possession of one of the largest of the heads, which they conveyed away, first one carrying it a few yards, then the other, it being too bulky for one alone to carry it far at a time. In short, I was so well amused by watching their manoeuvres, that I suffered them to rob me of all my store. I saw a little family of tiny squirrels at play, in the spring, on the top of a hollow log, and really I thiak they were, without exception, the liveliest, most graceful creatures, I ever looked on. The flying squirrel is a native of our woods, and exceeds in beauty, to my mind, any of the tribe. Its color is the softest, most delicate tint of gray ; the fui* thick and short, and as silken as velvet ; the eyes, like all the squirrel kind, are large, full, and soft; the whiskers, and long hair about the nose, black; the membrane that assists this little animal in its flight is white, and delicately soft in texture, like the fur of the chin- chilla; it forms a ridge of fur between the fore and hind-legs; the tall is like an elegant broad gray feather. I was agreeably surprised by the appearance of this exquisite little creature, the pictures I had seen gi^ang it a most inelegant and bat-like look, almost disgusting. The young ones are easily tamed, and are very playful and affectionate when under confinement. — Mrs. Traill's ^^Backwoods of Ccmada" INDIAN SUMMER. Bt the purple haze that lies On the distant rocky height^ By the deep blue of the skies, By the smoky amber light. Through the forest arches streaming. Where Nature on her throne sits dreaming, And the sun is scarcely gleaming, Through the cloudless snowy white,^ Winter's lovely herald greets us, Blre the ice-crowned giant ^eets us. !! ti'li 104 INDIAN 8DMMEB. A mellow softness fills the air, — No breeze on wanton wing steal» by, To break the holy quiet there, Or make the waters fret and sigh, Or the yellow alders shiver, That bend to kiss the placid river, Flowing on, and on for ever ; But the little waves are sleeping. O'er the pebbles slowly creeping, That last night were flashing, leaping', Driven by the restless breeze. In lines of foam beneath yon trees. DressM in robes of gorgeous hue, Brown and gold with crimson blent; The forest to the waters blue Its own enchanting tints has lent; — Tn their dark depths, life-like glowing, . '■* see a second forest growing, Eac. pictured leaf and branch bestowing A fairy grace to that twin wood, Mirror'd within the crystal flood. 'Tis pleasant now in forest shades; — The Indian hunter strings his bow. To track through dark entangling glades The antler'd deer and bounding doe, — Or launch at night the birch canoe, To spear the finny tribes that dwell On sandy bank, in weedy cell. Or pool, the fisher knows right well- Seen by the red and vivid glow • Of pine-torch at his vessel's bow. This dreamy Indian summer-day. Attunes the soul to tender sadness; "We love — ^but joy not in the ray — , It is not summer's fervid gladiiPGs, But a melancholy glory Hovering softly round decay, Like swan that sings her own sad stoiy, £re she floats in death away. ^B ▲K INDIAN COUNCIL. iU(^ The day declines, what splendid dyes, In fleckei'ed waves of crimson diiven, Float o'er the saffron sea that lies Glowing within the western heaven I Oh,iti8 a peerless even I See, the broad red sun has set. But his rays are quivering yet Through Nature's veil of violet, Streaming bright o'er lake and hill, But earth and forest lie so still, It sendeth to the heart a chill ; We start to check the rising tear — 'Tis beauty sleeping on her bier. — Mrs. Moodis. AN INDIAN COUNCIL. At noon 1 proceeded to a point at which it had been arranged that I should hold a council with the chiefs of all the tribes, who, according to appointment, had congrega.ted to meet me; and on my arrival there I found them all assembled, standing in groups, dressed in their finest costumes, with feathers waving on their heads, with their faces painted, half-painted, quarter- painted, or one eye painted, according to the customs of their respective tribes; while on the breast and arms of most of the oldest of them, there shone resplendent the silver gorgets and armlets which in former years had been given t< them by their ally — ^the British Sovereign. After a few salutations it was proposed that our council should commence ; and, accordingly, while I took possession of a chair which the Chief Superintendeilt of Indian Affairs had been good enough to bring for me, the chiefs sat down opposite to me in about eighteen or twentj lines parallel to each other. For a considerable time we absolutely gazed at each other in dead silence. • Pajssions of all sorts had time to subside; and the judgment, divesttni of its enemy, was thus enabled calmly to consider and prepare the subjects ol' the approaching discourse; and, as if still further to facilitate this arrangement, "the pipe of peace" was introduced, slowly lighted, slowly smoked by one 5 m 106 IM INDIAN OOUNOIL. ohiof after another, and then sedately handed me to smoke it too. The whole assemblage having, in this simple maimer, been solemnly linked together in a chain of friendship, and as it had been intimated to them by the superintendent that I was ready to consider whatever observations any of them might desire to offer, one of the oldest chiefs arose ; and, after standing for some seconds erect, yet in a position in which he was evidently perfectly at his ease, ho commenced his s{.?ech — translated to me by an interpreter at my side — ^by a slow, calm expression of thanksgiving to the Great Spirit for having safely conducted so many of his race to the point at which they had been requested to xssemble. He then, in very appropriate terms, expressed the feelings of attachment which nad so long connected the red man with his Great Parent across the Salt Lake; and, after this exordium — which in com];K)sition and mode of utterance would have done credit to any legislative assembly in the civilized world — he proceeded, with great calmness, by very beauti< ful metaphors, and by a narration of facts it was impossible to deny, to explain to me how gradually, and — since their acquaintance with their white brethren — how continuously the race of red men had melted, and were stUl melting, like snow before the sun. As I did not take notes of this speech, or of those of several other chiefs who afterwards addressed the council, I oould only very inaccurately repeat them. Besides which, a considerable portion of them related to details of no public importance : I will, therefore, in general terms, only observe, that nothing can be more interesting, or offer to the civilized world a more useful lesson, than the manner in which the red aborigines of America, without ever interrupting each other, conduct their councils. The calm, high-bred dignity of their demeanor — ^the scientifio manner in which they progressively construct' the framewoi k of whatever subject they undertake to explain — ^the sound argu- ments by which they connect as well as support it — and tiie beautiful wild-flowers of eloquence with which, as they proceed, they adorn every portion of the moral architecture they are constructing, form altogether an exhibition of grave interest; and yet, is it not a'^tonishing to reflect that the orators in these councils are men whose lips and gums are— while they are speaking — ^black from the wild berries upon which they have been subsisting — who have never heard of education — never seen a town — ^but who, bom in the secluded recesses of an almost WAUS or V1AQAB4. 107 interminable forest, have spent their lires in either following zig-zaggedly the game on which they subsist through a labyrintb of trees, or in paddling their canoes across lakes, and among a congregation of such islands as I have described ? They hear more distinctly — see further — smell clearer — can bear more fatigue— can subsist on less food — and have altogether fewer wants than their white brethren; and yet, while from morning till night we stand gazing at ourselves in the looking gloss of self-admiration, we consider the Bed Indians of America as "outside barbarians." Bui I have quite forgotten to be the "Hansard" of my own speech at the coimcil, which was an attempt to explain to the tribes assembled the reasons which had induced their late "Great Father" to recommend some of them to sell their lands to the Provincial Government, and to remove to the innumerable islands in the waters before us. I assured them that their titles to their present hunting-grounds remained, and ever would remain, respected and undisputed ; but that, inasmuch as their white brethren had an equal right to occupy and cultivate the forest that surrounded them, the consequence inevitably would be to cut off their supply of wild game, as I have already described. In short, I stated the case as fairly as I could, and, after a long debate, succeeded in prevailing upon the tribe to whom I had been particularly addressing myself to dispose of their lands on the terms I had proposed ; and whether the bargain was for their weal or woe, it was, and, so long as I live, will be, a great satisfaction to me to feel that it was openly discussed and agreed to in presence of every Indian tribe witii whom Her Majesty is allied; for, be it always kept in mind, that while the white inhabitants of our North American Colonies are the Queen's av^ectSy the Hed Indian is, by solenm treaty, Her Majest/s aUy. — Sib Francis B. Head. FALLS OF NIAGARA There's nothing great or bright, thou glorious FaU, Thou mayst not to the fancy's sense recall — The thunder-riven cloud, the lightning's leap— The stirring of the chambers of the deep— , I 108 tai TAKiNo or oitaoit. Earth's emerald groen, and many-tinted dye»^ The fleecy whitonnss of the upper skios— The tread of armies, thickening as they como-> The boom of cannon, and the beat of drum— > Xhe brow of beautv, and the form of grnce— The passion, and the prowess of our raco^ The song of Homer, in its loftiest hour — The unresisted sweep of Roman power — Britannia's trident on the azure sear- America's young shout of liberty ) Oh ! may the wars that madden in thy deeps There spend their rage, nor climb th' encircling steeps, And till the conflict of thy singes cease, The nations on thy banks repoHe in peace. ^Earl of Oarli8lb.-^(1841.) THE TAKING OF DETROIT. In the year 1670, the French authorities in Canada built r. fort upon the Detroit river, for the double purpose of trading with the Indians, and of opposing a barrier to their progress eastwaixL At the peace of Paris, in 1768, the fort and the little settlement that surrounded it passed, -with all the adjacent territory, into the hands of the British; and, twenty yeara later, it became part of the new American Re]>ublic. Gradually the little settlement progressed, until, in 1812 — the year of our story — ^it boasted 1,200 inhabitants; and now Detroit is a city with a population of 46,000. In 1812, the young Republic of the United States declared war against the British empire, cloaking their real design — whici; was that of conquering Canada and her sister provinces — under a pretence of avenging an imaginary insult offered to the American marine. General Hull, an old revolutionary efficer, left the fort at Detroit, and crossed over into Canada with 2,500 men, to take possession of the coimtry; but after three successive attacks upon the little village of Ainherstburg, garrisoned by only 300 regulars and a few Indians, under Colonel St. George, he was compelled to return, and shut liimsoljup in the old Fi^ench fort, thh takiho Of DrrRt)iT. lUl) Sir Tsafto Brock was at thia time tho Oovrraor of Upper Canada, lie woa a brave and Hkilful gcinjrul, and had nervi'tl with creat distinction in tho European campaijrnB. Bolovcul alike bv tho soldita-H who fought under him and tho ])roy\c whom he governed, no man could be betf/^r fitttnl for nusctinj^ the exigencies of the time. In the whole of tlie upper province, however, there were, during tho period of his govnnincnt, only 80,000 men, women, and children, scattered over a wide tract of country. From his head-qua* ^ers, in Toronto, the General sent Colonel Procter, with a small dewchment, to reinforce tho garri- son at Amherstburg, leaving himself with only ninety men. This little force he sent off towards Long I'oint, Lake Krie, to raise a body of two hundred militia, and to prepare moans of trans- portation. Two hundred volunteers, from. York and the sur- rounding coimtry, responded to his call; and on the 6th of August Sir Isaac set out, amid the tears and ap])lause of the little town's inhabitants, at the head of his newly raised army. While passing the Grand River, he held a council with tho Indians, who were glad to have an opportunity of wiping out old scores with the "Longknives," as they called the Americans, and who promised to meet him at Amherstburg. On the 8th, the little band of Canadian patriots arrived at Long Point, the end of their weary march, where the assembled reinforcements had provided a number of small boats for accomplishing the remainder of the journey. Tlie distance from Long Point to Amherstburg is two hundred miles, over a rough sea, and along a coast presenting* no means of shelter against the weather. This long journey was performed after four days and nights of incessant labor; at midnight of the 13th, tho motley fleet of transports arrived at its destination. Great was the rejoicing when the General arrived in Amherstburg; the regulars cheered, the volunteers shouted, and the Indian:} could hardly be restrained from firing away all their ammu- nition, at the prospect of battle under such a leader. Tho whole of the Canadian force now amounted to 1,300 men, comprising 600 Indians, under the celebrated Tecumseh, 300 regulars, and 400 volunteers, "disguised in red coats." All their artillery consisted of five small guns, which were planted upon an elevated bank opposite Detroit. On the 15th, the gunners stood to their pieces, awaiting the signal to fire upon ^•(.enemy's position across the river. General Brock sent a summons to the Americans to surrender, which th^y indig- ill! P m* ri 110 THB TARINO OP DETROIT. nantlj rejected, and immediately the liu'.a batter}' began to play upon the fort and village. Next day, the Canadian army crossed the river, between three and four miles below Detroit, to meet the enemy on their own ground. When the dis« embarkation was completed. General Brock sent forward the Indians, as skirmishers, upon the right and left, and advanced with the rerauinder of his force to within a mile of the fort. From its high sodded parapets, surrounded by tall rows of wooden palisades and a wide and deep ditch, thirty pieces of cannon fl-owned down upon the besiegers; its garrison consisted of four hundred soldiers of the United States regular army. A larger body of Ohio volunteers occupied an entrenched position flsMiking the approach to the fort; while, on the right, a detachment of six ];iundred militia, from Ohio and Michigan, was rapidly advancing. Another considerable force held the towB; making the total strength of the enemy about 2,500 men. In spite of the great disparity of the opposing armies, and of the formidable preparations made by the enemy. General Brock prepared to rry the fort by assault. The Indians advanced within a short distance of the American forces, uttering their shrill war-cries, and keeping up an incessant fire upon their more exposed positions. The regulars and volunteers examined the priming of their muskets, and prepared to scale the palisades and walls of the fort. All was in readiness for an immediate attaSsk, when a gate suddenly opened, and, to the astonishment of the gallant Canadian General, an American officer advanced towards him, bearing a flag of trdce. An hour afterwards. General Hull siurendored the whote of his com- mand, and the Canadian army marched into the quarters of the enemy. By the terms of this capitulation, two thousand five hundred prisoners, as many stands of arms, thirty-bhree pieces of cannon, a large store of ammiSiition, three months' pro- visions, and a vessel of war, fell into the hands of the conquerors. So signal a victory, gained by a small and hastily- collected force, is one of which every Id^al British subject in America may well be proud. —^ampbeU-s Fourth ReaaUr, LUMBERING. lU LUMBERING. The lumber trade is carried on to a greater or less extent on al- most all the American rivers ; but en the Mississi[)pi and the St. Lawrence it aflFords employment to a vast number of persons. The chief raftsmen, under whose directions the timber expedi- tions are conducted, are generally persons of very great intelli- gence, and often of considerable wealth. Sometimes these men, for the purpose of obtaining wood, purchase a piece of land, which they sell after it has been clearod, but more frequently they pur- chase only the timber from_the proprietors of the land on which it grows. The chief raftsman, and his detachment of workmen, repair to the fore8t^ab"5ut the month of November^ and are occu- pied duillhg the whole of the winter months in fellmg trees, dress- in^them into logs, and dragging them by teams of oxen to the nearest, stream, over the hardened snow, with wlGich the country is then covered. They live during this period in huts formed of logs. Throughout the whole of the newly-cleared districts of America, indeel, the houses are built of rough logs, which are arranged so as to form the four sides of the hut, and their ends are half-checked into each other, ' such a maiinor as to allow of their coming into contact nearly, throughout their whole length, 112 LUMBEBINO. and the small interstices which remain are filled up with clay. About the month of May, when the ice leaves the rivers, the logs of timber that have been prepared, and hauled down during winter, are launched into the numerous small streams in the neighborhood of which they have been cut, and are floated down to the larger rivers, where their progress is stopped by what is called a " boom." The boom consists of a line of logs, extending across the whole breadth of the river. These are connected by iron links, and attached to stone piers built at suitable distances in the bed of the stream. The boom is erected for the purpose of stopping the downward progress of the wood, which must remain within it till all the timber has left the forest. After this every raftsman searches out his own timber, which he recognizes by the mark he puts on it, and, having formed it into a raft, floats it down the river to its destination. The boom is generally owned by private in- dividuals, who levy a toll on all the wood collected by it. The toll on the Penobscot Eiver is at the rate of three per cent, on the value of the timber. The rafts into which the timber is formed, previous to being floated down the large rivers, are strongly put together. They are furnished with masts and sails, and are steered by means of long oars, which project in front as well as behind them. Wooden houses are built on them for the accommodation of the crew and their families. I have counted upwards of thirty persons working the steering oars of a raft on the St. Lawrence ; from this some idea may be formed of the number of their inhabitants. The most hazardous part of the lumberer's business is that of bringing the rafts of wood down the large rivers. If not managed with great skill, they are apt to go to pieces in descending the rapids ; and it not unfrequently happens that the whole labor of one, and sometimes of two years, is in this way lost in a mo- ment. An old raftsman with whom I had some conversation on board of one of the steamers on the St. Lawrence, informed me that each of the rafts brought down that river contains from 15,000 to 25,000 dollars' worth of timber, and that he, on one occasion, lost 12,500 dollars by one raft, which grounded in de- scending a rapid, and broke up. The safest size of a raft, he said, was from 40,000 to 50,000 square feet of surface ; and when of that size they require about five men to manage them. Some are made, however, which have an area of no less than 300 000 square feet. These unwieldy craft are brought to Quebec ia AMEBIOA TO OBKAT BRITAIN. 113 great numbers from distances varpng from one to twelve hundred miles ; and it often happens that six months are occupied in making the passage. They are broken up at Quebec, where the timber is cut up tor exportation, into planks, deals, or battens, at the numerous saw-mills with which the banks of the St. Lawrence are studded for many miles in the neighborhood of the town. Sometimes the timber is shipped in the form of logs. The tim- ber-rafts of the Rhine are, perhaps, the only ones in Europe that con be compared to those of the American rivers ; but none of those which I have seen on the Rhine were nearly so large as those on the St. Lawrence, although some of them were worked by a greater number of hands, a precaution rendered necessary, perhaps, by the more intricate navigation of the river. The principal woods exported from the St. Lawrence are white oak, white pine, red pine, elm, and white ash. —Stevenson. AMERICA TO GREAT BRITAIN. All hail ! thou nol 'e land, Our fathers' native soil ! Oh, stretch thy mighty hand, Gigantic grown by toil, O'er the vast Atlantic wave to our shore 1 For thou with magic might Canst reach to where the light Of Phoebus travels bright the world o'er I • The genius of our clime, From his pine-embattled steep, Shall hail the guest sublime ; While the Tritons of the deep With their conchs the kindred league shall proclaim. Then let the world combine, O'er the main our naval line, Like the mUky-way, shall shine bright in fame I Though ages long have past Since our fathers left their home, Their pilot in the blast, O'er untravelled seas to roam, Yet lives the blood of England in onr veins ! And shall we not proclaim 114 THE FALLS OF NIAGARA. That blood of honest fame Which no tyranny can tame by its chains 9 While the language free and bold Which the Bard of Avon sung, In which our Milton told How the vault of heaven rung, When Satan, blasted, fell with his host :— While this, with reverence meet, Ten thousand echoes greet, From rock to rock repeat round our coast ;«— While the manners, >^hile the arts, That mould a nation's soul. Still cling around our hearts, — Between let ocean roll, Our joint communion breaking with the sun : Yet still from either beach The voice of blood shall reach, More audible than speech, " We are One." — Allston. THE FALLS OF NIAGARA. The thoughts are strange that crowd into my brain When I look upward to thee. It would seem As if God pour'd thee from Hjs " hollow hand," And hung His bow upon thine awful front ; And spoke in that loud voice, which seem'd to him Who dwelt in Patmos for his Saviour's sake, " The sound of many waters ; '' and had bade Thy flood to chronicle the ages back, And notch His centuries in the eternal rocks. Deep calleth unto deep. And what are we, That hear the question of that voice sublime ? Oh ! what are all the notes that ever rung From war's vain trumpet, by thy thundering side 1 Yea, what is all the riot that man makes In his short life, to thy unceasing roar 1 And yet, bold babbler, what art thou to Him, Who drown'd a world, and heap'd the waters far Above its loftiest mountainB 1 — a light wave, That breaks, and whispers of its Maker's might. — BlUWEBD THB SKATBR AND THE WOLVES. 115 THE SKATER AND THE WOLVES. During the winter of 1844, 1 had much leisure to devote to the sports of a new country. To none of these was I more passion- ately addicted than to skating, The deep and sequestered lakes, frozen by the intense cold of a noiiheni winter, present a wide field to the lovers of this pastime. Often would I bind on my skates and glide away up the glittering river, and wind each mazy streamlet that flowed beneath its fetters on toward the parent ocean. Sometimes I would follow the track of a fox or otter, and run my skates along the mark he had left with his dragging tail, until tue trail would enter the woods. Sometimes these excursions were made by moonlight] and it was on one of these latter occasions that I had a rencounter which even now, with kind faces around me, I cannot recall without a nervous feeling. « I had left my friend's house one evening just before dusk, with the intention of skating a short distance up the noblo river which glided directly before the door. The night was beautifully clear. A peerless iiAOon rode through an occasional fleecy cloud, and stars twinkled from the sky and from every frost-covered tree in millions. Light also came glinting from ice, and snow-wreath, and encrusted branches, as the eye fol- lowed for miles the broad gleam of the river that, like a jewelled zone, swept between the mighty forests on its banks. And yet, all was still. The cold seemed to have frozen tree, and air, and water, and every living thing. Even the ringing of my skates echoed back from the hill with a startling clearness ; and the crackle of the ice, as I passed over it in my course, seemed to follow the tide of the river with lightning speed. I had gone up the river nearly two miles, when, comini; to a little stream which empties into the larger, I turned into it to explore its course. Fir and hemlock of a century's growth met overhead, and formed an archway radiant with frost-work. All was dark within ; but I was young and fearless, and as I peered into an unbroken forest that reared itself on the borders of the stream, I laughed with very joyousness. My wild hurrah rung through the silent woods, and I stood listening to the echo that reverberated, again and again, until all was hushed. Suddenly, a sound arose — it seemed to me to come from beneath the ioe, it was low and tremulous at first, but it ended in one lon|;, wild W\ 'A i til I ,! 116 THB SKATER AND THE WOLVES. yell. I was appalled. Nerer before had such a noise met my ears. Presently, I heard the brushwood on shore crash, as though from the tread of some animal. The blood rushed to my forehead; my energies returned; and I looked around me for some means of escape. The moon shone through the opening at the mouth of the creek by which I had entered the forest ; and, considering this the best means of escape, I darted towards it like an arrow. It was hardly a hundred yards distant, and the swallow could have scarcely excelled me in flight ; yet, as I turned my head to the shore, I could see two dark objects dashing through the brush- wood at a pace nearly double in speed to my own. By their great speed, and the short yells which they occasionally gave, 1 knew at once that these were the much-dreaded gray wolves. I had never met with these animals ; but, from the description given of them, I had little pleasure in making their acquaint ance. Their untamable ^erceness and untiring strength render them objects of dread to every benighted traveller. With their long gallop they pursue their prey, never straying from the track of their victim; and though, perhaps, the wearied hunter thinks that he has at last outstripped them, he finds that they have but waited for the evening to seize their prey. The bushes that skirted the shore flew past with the velocity of lightning, as I dashed on in my flight to pass the narrow opening. The outlet was nearly gained — a few seconds more and I would be comparatively safe; but, in a moment, my pur- suers appeared on the bank above me, which here rose to the height of ten feet. There was no time for thought. I bent my head, and dashed madly foi'ward. The wolves sprang, but, miscalculating my speed, fell behind, while their intended prey glided out upon the river ! Nature turned me toward home. The light flakes of snow spun from the iron of my skates, and I was some distance from my pursuers, when their fierce howl told me I was still their fugitive. I did not look back; I did not feel afraid, or sorry, or glad; — one thought of home, of the bright faces awaiting my return, and of their tears if they never should see me; and then all the energies of body and mind were exerted for escape. I was perfectly at home on the ice. Many were the days that I had spent on my good skates, never thinking that they would thus prove my only means of safety. Every half minute a furious yelp from my fierce attendants made me but too certain THE SKATER AND THE WOLVES. 117 that they were in close pursuit. Nearer and nearer they came. At last 1 heard their feet pattering on the ice — I even felt their very breath, and heard their snuffing scent ! Every nerve and muscle in my frame was stretched to the utmost tension. The trees along the shore seemed to dance in an uncertain light, and my brain turned with my own breathless speed ; yet still my pursuers seemed to hiss forth their breath with a sound truly horrible, when an involuntary motion on my part turned me out of my course. The wolves, close behind, unable to stop, and as unable to turn on the smooth ice, slipped and fell, still going on far a-head. Their tongues were lolling out ; their white tusks were gleaming from their bloody mouths; their dark shaggy breasts were fleeced with foam ; and, as they passed me, their eyes glared, and they howled with fury. The thought flashed on my mind that by this means I could avoid them, — namely, by turning aside whenever they came too near ; for, by the formation of their feet, they are unable to run on ice except in a straight line. I immediately acted upon this plan. The wolves, having regained their feet, sprang directly toward me. The race was renewed for twenty yards up the stream ; they were already close on my back, when I glided round and dashed directly past them. A fierce yell greeted my evolution, and the wolves, slipping on their haunches, sailed onward, presenting a perfect picture of helplessness and baffled rage. Thus I gained nearly a hundred yards at each turning. This was repeated two or three times, every moment the animals becoming more excited and baffled. At one time, by delaying my turning too long, my sanguinary antagonists came so near that they threw their white foam over my dress as they sprang to seize me, and their teeth clashed together like the spring of a fox-trap ! Had my skates failed for one instant, — had I tripped on a stick, or had my foot been caught in a fissure of the ice, — the story I am now telling would never have been told. I thought all the chances over. I knew where they would first seize me if I fell. I thought how long it would be before I died ; and then of the search for my body, that would already have its tomb ; for oh ! how fast man's mind traces out all the dread colors of death's picture, only those who have been near the grim original can tell. 118 THE SKATEB'B BONO. i ' But I soon came opposite the house, and my hounds — I knew their deep voices — roused by the noise, bayed furiously from their kennels. I heard their chains rattle : how I wished they would break them \ — then I should have had protectors to match the fiercest denizens of the forest. The wolves, taking the hint conveyed by the dogs, stopped in their mad career, and, after a few moments, turned and fled. I watched them until their forms disappeared over a neighboring hill ; then, taking oflf my skates, I wended my way to the house, with feelings which may be better imagined than described. But, even yet, I never see a broad sheet of ice by moonlight without thinking of that snuffing breath, and those fearful things, that followed me so closely down that frozen river. — Whitebsad. 7 THE SKATER'S SONO. AWAY on the glistening plain we go, * With our steely feet so bright; Away I for the north winds keenly blow^ And winter's out to-night With the stirring shout of the joyous rout^ To the ice-bound stream wo hie; On the river's breast, where snow-fiakes rest, We'll merrily onward fly! Our fires flame high; by their midnighc glare We will wheel our way along; And the white woods dim, and the frosty air Shall ring with the skater's song. With a crew as bold as ever was told For the wild and dating deed. What can stay our flight, by the fire's red lights As we move with lightning speed 1 We heed not the blast, who are flying as fast As deer o'er the Lapland snow; When the cold moon shines, on snow-clad pines^ And wintry breezes blow. THE PRAIllIES OF NORTH AMERICA. 119 The cheerful hearth, in the hall of mirth, We have gladly left behind — For a-thrilllDg song is borne along On the free and stormy wind. Our hearts beating warm, we'll laugh at the storm When it comes in a fearful rage. While with many a wheel, on the ringing steel, A riotous game we'll wage. By the starry light of a frosty night We trace our onward way; While on the ground, with a spUntering sound, The frost goes forth at play. Then away to the stream, in the moonlight's beam, For the night it waneth fast; And the silent tread of the ghostly dead;, At the midnight hour, hath passed. — H. B. T. N THE PRAIRIES OF NORTH AMERICA. The term "prairie," first applied to the plains of North America by the French settlers, signifies a meadow; and very appropriate is it, as the vast tracts of land, which it is used to designate, are unsurpassed in verdant richness in any part of the earth. The prairies of the "west" and "far west" of America are the most beautiful in the world. Of boundless extent, great and varied richness of beauty, and undulating in a graceful manner, like the swells of the retiring ocean, they present a scene unparalleled of its kind on the face of the earth. The " bluflFs" that appear in diflferent parts, scattered over its surface in thousands, and especially abundant by the banks of rivers, present a constant variety to the eye of the visitor. The general character of the picture, however, is the same. On the Missouri alone, above the Osage, there are, it is said, thirty thousand square miles, making an amount of terri- tory equal to Kentucky. Below the Osage is another tract of 120 'HE miB,Bs or NORTH AttEBIO*. ^rau^ and frogs KTr^f^^fcr^ •"" '^'^ °^ *^ during 'he fZ^tte ™:: -it "ii^. «'''^' ^"^ i-ndred, of :„a«, ■t "P. a bkck surfac^ Heft ■^?S.*''^ *«^,'»<* CbuSiS m the ensuing spring. TheSTi * «™'""' » doleful colof " communioated to the entL^^ "f"? "">^^ ^T which fi^ by white men and In^Tfor?!?. °*'^ ''^ ^'^"'^i but often^ summer less un^mfortable^ *° '^''« *™^«"4 in *he «hor^*Jhe Lm^:;^l'Xl ^.Tf , "•^»' ^^'^^ ^e g^ss ia quiet tijHhey mZb2t"''t^'{{ri''''T^^^ escaping further molestation tror^ ^ **!?'<' °^« i*. M* scenes at night become inZ'cri^l f.^o'g tiie ashes. TheS of the bluffs ; and, the hills teinn^^^fr'' ""^ »'''<'» ™.it.., — ■ iig,! _ ^ j^^ wm DrrEOBITT l^BWiADED. 121 many tracts like this on the Platte, and the Arkansas, of many miles in breadth, which are perfectly level, with a waving grass so high that men are obliged to stand erect in their stirrups, in order to look over the waving tops, as they are riding through them. The fire in these places, before such a wind, travels with such an immense and frightful rapidity, as frequently to destroy parties of Indians who may be overtaken by it; not that it travels so fast as a horse at full speed, but the high grass is entangled with wild pea-vines, and other plants of the kind, which impede the rider, and compel him to ride the horse in the zig-zag paths of the buffaloes and deer, which retard his progress, and he is thus overtaken by the immense cloud of smoke and flame, which, with its thundering sound and lightning glare^ destroys almost everything that it approaches. — Face of the Earth, INTEGRITY REWARDED. The annals of the American war record the following story: — *'A plain fai'mer, Richard Jackson by name, was apprehended during the Revolutionary war, under such circumstances as proved beyond all doubt his purpose of joining the King's forces, an intention which he was too honest to deny. Accordingly, he was delivered over to the high sheriff, and committed to the county gaoL The prison was in such a Etate that he might have found little difficulty •in escaping; but he considered him- self as in the hands of authority — such as it was — and the same principle of duty which led him to take arms made him equally ready to endure the consequences. After lying there a few days, he applied to the sheriff for leave to go out and work by day, promising that he would return regularly at night His chai*acter for simple integrity was so well known, that permis- sion was given without hesitation, and, for eight months, Jackson went out every day to labor, and as duly came back to prison at night. In the month of May, the sheriff prepared to conduct him to Springfield, where he was to be tri^d for high treason. Jackson said this would be a needless trouble and expense. His word was once more taken; and he set off alone to present himself for trial and certain condemnation. On the way, he was overtaken by Mr, Edwards, a member of the Oouncil 122 A BONO OF EMIGRATION. of Massachusetts, which at that time was the supreme executive of the State. This gentleman asked him whither he was going. *To Springfield, sir,' was his answer, 'to be tried for my life !' To this casual interview Jackson owed his escape ; when, having been found guilty and condemned to death, ai)plication was made to the Council for mercy. The evidence and the sentence were stated, and the president put the question whether a par- don should be granted. It was opposed by the first speaker : the case, he said, was perfectly clear ; the act was unquestionably high treason, and the proof complete ; and, if mercy was shown in this case, he saw no cause why it should not be granted in every other. Few governments have understood how just and politic it is to be merciful ; this hard-hearted opinion accorded with the temper of the times, and was acquiesced in by one member after another till it came to Mr Edwards's tuni to speak. Instead of delivering his opinion, he simply related the whole story of Jackson's singular conduct, and what had passed between them in the woods. For the honour of Massachusetts, and of human nature, not a man was found to weaken its effect by one of those dry, legal remarks, which, like a blast in the desert, wither the heart they reach. The Council began to hesitate ; and, when a member ventured to say that such a man certainly ought not to be sent to the gallows, a natural feeling of humanity and justice prevailed, and a pardon was immediately made out.'' — Sharpe's London Majazime' A SONG OF EMIGRATION. There was heard a song on the chiming sea, A mingled breathing of grief and glee ; Man's voice, unbroken by sighs, was there. Filling with triumph the sunny air ; Of fresh, green lands, and of pastures new, It sang, while the bark through the surges flew. But ever and anon, A murmur of farewell. Told by its plaintive tone, Tliat from woman's lip it fell. *" A 80NU uF LMIURATION. i'2:\ " A .r t)f en lost in lome of iti droadiul luurajsefi.*'— Anon. "They made her a grave, too cold and daTnp For ^ soul so warm and true; And she's g6ne to the Lake of the Dismal Swamp; Where, all night long, by a firfe-fly lamp, She padtlles her white cariOe. And her fire-fly lamp I soon shall see, And her paddle I soon shall hear; Long and loving our life shall bo, And I'll hide the maid in a cypress tree, When the footstep of death is near I" Away to the Dismal Swamp he speeds— His path was rugged and sore — Through tangled juniper, beds of reeds, Through many a fen where the serpent feeds, And man never trod before I And when on the earth he sank to sleep, If slumber his eyelids knew, — He lay, where the deadly vine doth wenp Its venomous tear, and nightly steep The flesh with blistering dew ! And near him the she-wolf stirred the brake, And the copper-snake breathed in his ear, Till he, starting, cried, from his dream a^vakO; "Oh! when shall I see the dusky Lake, And the white canoe of my dear V He saw the Lake, and a meteor bright Quick over its surface played "Welcome," he said, "my dear one's light!" And the dim shore echoed, for many a night The name of the death-co]d /: T>-»' .y t ^ «p 136 TAB AMIRIOAN lAOLI Till he hollowed a boat of the birchen bark, Which carried him off from shore; Far he followed the meteor spark, The wind was high, and the clouds were dark. And the boat returned no more. . But oft, from the Indian hunter's camp. This lover and maid ko true, Are seen at the hour of midnight damp, To cross the Lake by a fire-fly lamp. And paddle their white canoe 1 — MooRa THE AMERICAN EAGLE. The eagle is, in tnith, no very great fisher, but is verj fond of fish, and finds that the easiest mode of obtaining the desired dainty is to rob them who are better qualified than him- self for the sport. He is capable of catching fish, it is true, but he does it in a very awkward manner, wading into Iho shallows like a heron, and snatching suddenly at any of the finny tribe that may be passing in his direction. This pre- datory propensity aroused the wrath of Benjamin Franklin, who objected strongly to the employment of the bald eagle as the type of the American nation, urging, as his grounds for opposition, that it is "a bird of bad moral character, and did not get his living honestly." The ^ald eagle is very accommodating in his appetite, and will eat dmost anything that has ever possessed animal life. He is by no means averse to carrion, and has been seen seated regally upon a dead horse, keeping at a distance a horde of vultures which were collected round the carcass, and not per- mitting them to approach until he had gorged himself to the full. Another individual was seen by Wilson in a similar state of things. He had taken possession of a heap of dead squirrels, that had been accidentally drowned, and prerented any other bird or beast of prey from approaching his treasures. He is especially fond of lambs, and is more than suspected oi aiding tlio c!:?ath of many a sickly sheep, by the dexterous use of his beak and claws. Sometimes he pays, the penalty of hia Ttnr AXIRIOAK EAQUL 137 ▼owelty, as was very recently the case. A Imld eagle had caiiglit a wild duck, and carrying it to a large piece of ice, tore his prey in pieces, uiul began to eat it. "When ho had finished his repast, he spveatl his wings for flight, but found himself unable to stir, his feet having been firmly frozen to the ice. Several persons who witnessed the scone endeavored to reach the bird, but were unable, owing to the masses of loose ice that intervened between the eagle and the land. At last, tlio poor bird perished, as was supposed, having been seen to flap his useless wings in vain endeavom to escape, until night drew on and darkness hid him from view. The manner in which the bald eagle hunts for, procures, and kills his prey, is so admirably told by Mr. Audubon, that it would be impossible to do justice to the subject without quoting his own words : — "The eagle is seen perched, in an erect attitude, on the summit of tlie tallest tree by the margin of the broad stream. His glistening, but stem eye, looks over the vast expanse. He listens attentively to eveiy sound that comes to his quick ear from afar, glancing every now and then on America, and may be seen haunting tlie greater part of th sesMJoast, as well as the mouths of the large rivers. — Woop'3 "liatural Zliati^r^^* s-/ OORTSZ IN MBXIOa 139 f Mmsmro off cuBTii:z and mont£zuma CORTEZ IN MEXICO. AjiONO those wlio were called forth by the voyages of discovery, chiefly set afloat by Spain, was Cortez, a man so deeply con- cerned in the doings of these tunes^ihat his name is inseparably associated with the history of Mexica Mexico was discovered by Grijalva, a lieutenant of Diego Velasquez ; but to Cortez was committed the conquest of IJie newly-found country. The people, who had thus been brought into connection with the Spaniards, had already laid aside nuui^ of their old customs; and when the vessels of Cortez lay to, and the governor went ashore, he found them no longer rude and half-clad savages, but people well dressed in cotton garments, and living in stone houses. The natives received the strangers with hostility; wild riunors were abroad of what cruel excesses the Spaixiards had already been guilty; and so a battle ensued, which ended in tlie triumph of the Spaniards. The monarch of M JAicu was iiaiui^l Montezuma, and he now Hent to learn the ol^oct uf the visit of Cortez. The Spaniard demanded a per- 140 CORTEZ IN MEXICO. sonal interview with the monansh; this was respectfully bat firmly declined. Hostilities were renewed, and Cortez marched towards the capital The vast plains of Mexico opened before them, wearing an aspect of tempting prosperity. In themiddlc of the plain, partly encamped by a lake, and partly built on the island within it, towered aloft the city of Mexico, like some gorgeous fairy-land city. The Spaniards could scarcely believe their senses; it seemed more like a splendid vision than reality. Montezuma received the strangers with great pomp and kind- ness; admitted them into the city; appropriated to their use splendid accommodations; supplied all their wants, and pre< sented them with gifbs. Cortez was greatly astonished at what had befallen him. He expected hostilities, and was met with hospitality. But he found himself shut up in the midst of a vast city; and, natm'ally suspicious, began to fear treachery on the part of his entertainers. A bold expedient occurred to him, which a good majiy people would have hesitated to attempt, but which he successfully carried through. He seized the person of the king, imprisoned him in his own palace, and so worked upon his mind that he at length induced the monarch to acknowledge himself as a servant of Spain, and to engage to pay an annual tribute. Shortly after this, Cortez was recalled to Spain. Cruelties, of which he had set the example, were carried on to so extravagant aQ.,extent as to drive the Mexicans into revolt; so that, on his retiuTL, he found a native army in th(9 field, his own forces weakened and dispirited, and but^iU prepared for a fresh cam* paign. But Cortez never fled from" danger — ^he had the merit of courage, if no other; and something of his own determination he commimicated to his followers. Battle followed battle with varying success. As of old, the people were hunted down like wild beasts; and the deep bay of the blood-hound was heard through the night. As a last resoui'ce, Cortez brought out Montezuma, whom he had held in captivity, placed him in the fore part of the fight, and instructed him to order his people to desist The monarch did the bidding .. his conqueror, and, with bowed heads and in deep silence, tae Mexicans obeyed. But when, still instructed by Cortez, the unhappy king spoke well of the Spaniards, the rage of his own subjects co^ild no longer 1)e restrained. They saw that the man, whom they IumI once respected, had no longer respect for himself; .they felt the deep indignity, and with a wild cry re-cotimenced the battle. tRAPPnrO A TAFTR. 141 ally but marched id befoi^ lemiddle built on Like some y believe ji reality, md kind- their use and pre- d at what met with oidst of a sachery on 3curred to sitated to He seized )alace, and le monarch ^ engage to ruelties, of xtravagant ihat, on his own forceo fresh cam- the merit ;ermination battle witL . down like was heard wrought out him in the is people to lueror, and, ans obeyed, king spoke [ts co^ild no »mihey h»d hey felt the 1 the batUe, Ithe first to fall was Montezuma. The people saw him in his death agony — ^the superstitions of their cre^ taught them thai heaven's vengeance would fall upon them, for they had slain their king; and so they turned and fled. Subsequently the war was continued : desperate resistance on one side, unrelenting cruelty on the other. Now and again it seemed that the flag of Castile would never float again upon the walla of Mexico; but Cortez fought on, steadily, determmedly; he never shrank from blood or tears, to raise the influence of his nation. But the work he accomplished met with no magni- ficent reward. Returning to Spain, he fell into neglect, foi^ Spain was careless of her benefactors when her work was done. One day, Cortez fo'^ed his way through thie crowd that had collected about the carriage of the sovereign, mounted the door- step, and looked in. Astonished at so gross a breach of etiquette, the monarch demanded to know who he was. " I am a man," replied the conqueror of Mexico, " who has given you more provinces than your ancestors left you cities !" And after this he withdrew from public life, brooding over ills sorrow, lived in solitude, and died of a broken heart. '-'Cassell's Family Paper. TRAPPING A TAPIR. Bi: it understood, then, that tlio tapir is "at home " in Central America, and is, indeed, one of the cliief jierscnages of its densely- popuUteil woods. Let us hear, then, what Mr. Sqoier has to say about him : — "I think it was the third day after our arrival, when we came upon a patch of low ground, or jungle, densely wooded, and distant perha])s half-a-mile from our encampment. At- tracted by some bright flowers, I penetrated a few yards into the bushes, where, to my surprise, I came wp^n what appeared to be a welMjeaten path, which I followed for some distance, wondoring over the various queer tracks which I observed printed here and there in the moist groimd." This, our author soon ascertains, is a path worn by the pass- ing and repassmg of a tapir, which ho encounters com ininr dong ftt a s\» Jiging tiot, so as to obli^^o Llin to ascend u ti-ee to get out of its way. On telling hiB Indian guides of his adventure^ they proposed to tn^ the tapir, and forSiwith commenoe operat. tions. Before it became dark, Antonio and the boy went to th*< thicket, and felled several stout trees across the path in such a manner as to form a kind of ctd-de-^ac. The design of this was to arrest the animal on his return, and enable us to spear him before he could break through or disengage himself. We went to the spot early in the evening, and, as the moon did not rise until late, Antonio caught his hat half-full of fire-fiies, which served to guide us in the bush. He then pulled off their wings and scattered them among the fallen trees, where they gave light enough to enable us to distinguish objects with considerable clearness." Not being over-confident of the peaceful disposition of the intended prey, our hero takes up lus position in a tree over- hanging the path, where, while sufficiently out of he n's way, he can yet give the beast a sly drive with his lance. They wait long; at last Antonio whispers, " He is conung," and, " a few moments afterwards, I coidd make out the beast in the dim light, driving on at the same swinging trot. Kight on he came, heedless and headlong. Crash ! crash ! There was a plunge and a struggle, and a crushing and trampling of branches, then a dull sound of the heavy beast striking against t]ie unyielding trunks of the fallen trees." " He was now fairly stopped, and with a shout my com- panions drove down upon him with their lances, which rang out a sharp metallic sound when they sti*uck his thick hard Lide. It was an exciting moment, and my eagerness overcoming my prudence, I slipped down the tree and joined in the attack. Blow upon blow of the lances, and I could feel that mine struck -^ deep into the flesh; but the strokes appeared to give him new strength, and, gathering back, ho drove again full upon the opposing tree, and bore it down before him. I had just learned upon the trunk — ^the better to aim my lance — and went down with it headlong, almost under the feet of the struggling animal, one tramp of whose foet would have crushed me like a worm. I could have touched him he was so near. I heard the alarmed shriek of Antonio when he saw me fall, but in an instrnt he leaped to my side, and shortening his lance, drove it with desperate force clean through the animal, bringing him to luB kaees. This done, he gi*appled mo c^ hs might an infant^ SO»a OF TBI nnORAHTS tM BfRAttTDA. m and before I was aware of it, had dragged me clear off t)ie fallen timber. The blow of Antonio proved fatal ; the tapir fe' I over on his side, and in a few minutes was quite dead." -^-AdvmUurei on the Mosquito Shore. SONG OF THE EMIGRANTS IN BERMUDA^ Where the remote Bermudas ride In the ocean's bosom unespied, From a small boat that rowed alon,^. The listening wind received this soiig : — <'What should we do but sing His prais:?, That led us through the watery maze, Where He the huge sea-monsters wracks, That lift the deep upon their backs, Unto an isle so long imknown, And yet far kinder than our own ? He lands us on a grassy stage. Safe from the storms and prelute*s rage; He gave us this eternal spring, Which here enamels everything, And sends the fowls to us in caro. On daily visits through the air. He hangs in t ^ades the orange bright« Like golden lamps in a green night. And does in the pomegranates close Jewels more rich than Ormus shows ; He makes the figs our mouths to meet, And throws the melons at our feet; But apples, plants ot such a price, No tree could ever bear them twice, With cedars cho.ien by His hand Fiom Lebanon, He stores the laud ; And makes tiie iiollow seas that rear Proclaim the ambergris on shore. He cast (of which we rather boasi) The GospeFs pearl upon our coast ; And on these rocks for us did fraute A temple where to sound His name: ^ J '. - i| U4 ^^3 tUK BUOCAinB]ER& O, let our voice His praise exalt. Till it arriye at heaven's vault. Which then, perhaps, rebounding may Echo beyond the Mexique Bay !" Thus sang they, in the English boat, A holy and a cheeriul note ; And all the way, to guide their chime, With falling oars they kept the time. —A. MARTSLLb THE BUCCANEERS. It is necessary to pause, at this period in our review of the grand maritime expeditions, which successively left the various seaports of the world, in order to refer to a practice which was now rendering commerce hazardous, and the whole highway of the seas insecure — piracy. Besides the numerous isolated adventurers, who preyed upon the vessels of any and every nation which fell in their way, a powerful association, or league of robbers, who infested particularly the West Indian Islands and the Caribbean Sea, and who bore the name of Buccaneers, became, during the century of which we are now speaking, the peculiar dread of Spanish ships. The Sptmiards would not allow any other nation than their own to trade in the West Indies, and pursued and murdered the English and French wherever they founds them. Every foreigner discovered among the islands, or on the coast of the American continent, was treated as a smuggler and a robber; and it was not long before they became such, and organized themselves into an association capable of returning cruelty by cruelty. The Spaniards employed coast-guards to keep off interlopers, the comi^anders of which were instructed to massacre all their prisoners. This tended to produce a close alliance, offensive and defensive, among the mariners of all other nations, who, in their turn, made'desecnts upon the coasts, and ravaged, the weaker Spanish towns and settleicents. A permanent state of hostilities was thus established in the West Indies, independent of peace or war at home. After the failure of the mine of St. Domingo, and its abandonment by the Spaniards, it was taken possession or, ciiriy in the seventeenth century, by a number of French TBI BTTGOAinBIM. 140 wanderers who had been driven oat of St Ohrittopher; and their numbers were Boon augmented by adventurers from all quarters. As they had neither wives nor children, they generally lived together by twos, for mutual protection and assistance; when one died, the survivor inherited his property, unless a will was found bequeathing it to some relative in Europe. Bolta, locks, and all lands of fastenings wera prohibited among them, the maxim of "honor among thieves" being considered a more efficient safeguard. The dress of a buccaneer oonsiBted of a shirt dipped in the blood of an animal just slain; a leathern drdle, in which hung pistols and a short sabre; a hat with leathers, but without a rim, except a fragment in guise of a visor, to piUl it on and off; and shoes of untanned hide without ttocldngs. Each man had a heavy musket, and usually a pack ef twenty or thirty dogs. Their business was, at the outset, oattle-hunting; and they sold hides to the Dutch, who reported to the island to purchase them. They possessed servants and daves, consisting of persons decoyed to the West Indies and induced to bind themselves for a certain number of years. The Spaniards, inhabiting other portions of St. Domingo, oonceived the idea of ridding the ifuand of the buocaneers by destroying all the wild cattle ; and this was carried into execution by a general chase. The buccaneers abandoned St. Domingo, and took refuge in the mountainous and well-wooded island of Tortuga, of which they made themselves absolute lords and masters. The advantages of the situation Inrought swarms of adventurers and desperadoes to the spot; and from cattle- hunters, the buccaneers became pirates. They made their cruises in open boats, exposed to all the inclem^des of the weather, and captured their prizes by boarding. Th^y attacked indiscriminately the ships of every nation, feeling especial hostility, and exercising peculiar cruelty towards the Spamards. They considered themselves to be justified in this by the oppres- sion of the Mexicans and Indians by Spanish rulers, and quieting their conscJMfs by tlius assuming the. characters of avengers^ and dispelfiwn^f poetic justice, they never embarked upon an expedition without publicly offering up prayers for success, nor did they ever return laden with spoils without as publicly giving uianks for their good fortune. They seldom attacked any European ships ex&pt those homeward-bound — which were usually well-freighted v/ilh gold •% U 146 TBI BuooAirmui. ■ad EilTer. The Spaniardfl held them in such terror that tliey usually suirendered on coming to close quarters. The spoil was equitably divided, provision being first made for tRiB wounded. The loss of an arm was rated at six hundred dollars, and other wounds in proportion. The commander could claim but one share; although, when he had acquitted himself with distinction, it was usual to compliment him by the addition of several shares. When the division was effected, tibie buccaneers abandoned them* selves to all kinds of rioting and licentiousness till their wealth was expended, when they started in pursuit of new booty. The buccaneers now rapidly increased in strength, daring, and numbers. They sailed in larger vessels, and undertook enterprises requiring great energy and audacity. Miguel de Basco captured, under the guns of Portobello, a Spanish galleon valued at a million of dollars. A Frenchman of the name of Montbars, conceived so deadly a hatred for the Spaniards, and killed so many of them, that he obtained the title of "The Exterminator." But the fame of all the buccaneer commanders was eclipsed by that of Henry Morgan, a Welshman. The boldest and most astonishing of his exploits was his forcing his way across the Isthmus of Darien, from the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean. His object was to plunder the rich city of Panama: his expedition, however, opened the way to the great Southern Sea, where the buccaneers laid the foundation of much of our geographical knowledge of that ocean. He first took the Castle of San Lorenzo, at the mouth of the rivier Chagres, where, out of three hundred and fourteen Spaniards, he put two hundred to death. He left five hundred' men in the castle, one hundred and fifty on board of his thirty-seven ships, and with the rest — who, aiter deducting the kUled and wounded, amounted to about twelve hundred men — began his progress through a wild and trackless country, which was then Imown only to ^e native Tndians. After a desperate combat with the Spaniards, he took and plundered Panama, which then consihted of about seven thousand houses. He returned to the mouth of the Chagres with an enormous booty, and, after defrauding the fleet of tibeir share of the spoils, sailed for Jamaica, which was already an English colony. He was made deputy-governor of the idand by Charles the Second, by whom he was also knighted. He proved an efficient officer, and gave no quarter to the buoeaneeis. ^ — The Sea and Hw FcmwuM SaUon, ,.:Si7s: l'-"-^ si'JvS.;:-:aKi: BOTINIC QHKOmm OT IT. TIKOINT. 147 A VISIT TO THE BOTANIC GARDENS OP ST. VINCENT. There s\p-^ little worth noticing about the house in the Botanic Garden — it was in very bad repair ; but one thing soon caught Jane and Susan's observant eyes, and that was something of a diiiy hght clay color, hanging from the roof in many places. This thing was of a flattish oval form, about eight or ten inches long, and was suspended by a substance like glue, of the same color, and not thicker than a piece of common pack- thread. They looked so long at these bags hanging, that their papa observed them, and said, " Those are Jack Spaniard's nests. 1 ou have already seen them ; you recollect I told you they were the wasps of the West Indies." "They are very troublesome," said Mr. Elliot, "in all old buildings, and by-and-by, I will show you plenty of them hanging in trees, where they also make their nests." "They sting very sevdi:ely," said Colonel Maxwell ; " but I believe they seldom attack any one unprovokedly." " Not often," said Mr. Elliot ; " but they may be attracted to a person by the perfume of anything they like ; and a fi-icnd of mine, who was dining in the country, in a house where the roof was fiill of nests, was a sad sufferer from them lately. He got in very hot, just in time for dressing, and rubbed his hair with honey-water; immediately after he sat down to dinner ; but the perfume of the honey-water attracted the Jack Spaniards to such a degree that, in a second, they all pounced upon my friend's head, and stung him so severely that he wati nearly fruntic, although he plunged his head in cold water as quickly as possible." " I suppose," said Mra. Maxwell, " it is a service of great iliificulty to destroy tlieir nests." " Indeed it is," said Mr. Elliot ; " but I have a negro lad here who does it most successfully, and who pretends he can charm them by holding the green leaf of soiae weed between his lips, when he goes up very softly to the nest, and with his fingers and thumb breaks the attachment of the nest to the roof of the tree, carries it most gravely and quietly to a hole dug for the purpose, and dropping it down slowly arid cautiously, he instantly places a turf upon the top, and consigns the nest, and all its troublesome inmates, to a living grave. He is never 148 BOTAKfO OARDSKS OF ST. VIKUINT. Btong, and I have seen him frequently perform the operation.** "And now, young ladies, I am going to show you what I won't call an ugly, but certainly one of the most troublesome weeds in the West Indies." They saw before tlu m a weed covered with pretty, small, delicate, pink blossoms, with very elegant-looking leaves; the plant was thick and bushy, and several feet high. " Touch it," said Mr. Elliot. " It is covered with thorns," said Jane. " Well,'' said Mr. Elliot, " come near it, and wave your hand close to it." The leaves all closed. " How curious ! " said the children. « What is it 1 " said Mr. Elliot. " It cannot be, and yet, somehow, I think it must be the sensitive plant," said Jane; "but I never saw it except in a hot-house at home, and I had no idea it grew in its own home to such a size." " It does," said Mr. Elliot ; " and I show it to you as an example of the great effect climate has upon plants, far more than people, who, generally speaking, if they are prudent, live and often enjoy excellent health in all different climates, while it is next to impossible for art to produce plants in the same perfection and health as in their natural climates. You are Burjirised at the gi-eat height and strength of the sensitive plant; but now I am going to show you a shrub, for here we cannot by any art make it grow taller than a shrub, though in England it is the pride of the forest." "What a curious-looking stunted oak! "said Susan; "what an ugly thing ! " "I daresay you think so," said Mr; Elliot; "but I can tell you, my little lady, that were you to live as long as I have done witliout seeing your own country, you would love this little oak, diminutive as it is, because it would seem something belonging to home; and, however happy we may be abroad, there is sometliing wrong about our hearts if we forget our home ; but I ara sure iaere is no fear of the daughter of a brave British officer doing that." "No, indeed," said Susan, "we shan't do that, although En^^land may not be so pretty or so curious a country." "I am not sure of that," said Mr. Elliot; "for where we are unaccustomed to all aroimd us, we naturally fancy it moi'e ,. -.,... ^ -M* ..><.«>-:■>»■*■ W iUW » i.>A^«*mcy^MSr»g»- ■ TBS WSST tKDIAV ISLANDS. 149 ourious because more uncommon. England abounds in natural curiosities; though, I must allow, after having seen some of tlio most beautiful spots in England, I am not sure that I ever saw 80 rich, and at the same time so grand a view, as wo are now admiring of the Bay of Kingstown and the surrounding country." Mr. Elliot showed his visitors his young plantation of nut- mega, and was kind enough to cut off the only ripe one to explain to his young friends how the nutmeg grew, for they liad no idea that the nutmeg was enclosed in a rind, which, when dried, was called mace. Indeed, it looked, when f»-esh, 80 exactly the color and size of an apricol;, that, had they l»f en in El. gland, they would have taken it for one. Mr. Elliot tlien showed them the jack-finiit, which is very uncommon in the West Indies ; the fruit is large and coarse, and has a very dis.igreeablc smell. Mr. Elliot told them " that the fruit some- times grew so immense as to weigh thirty pounds." This tree, in the Botanic Garden, was the only one in the island. — Juvenile Forget-me-not THE WEST INDIAN ISLANDS. Where first his drooping sails Columbus furled, And sweetly rested in another world. Amidst the heaven-reflecting ocean, smiles A constellation of Elysian isles; Fair as Orion when he mounts on high, Sparkling with midnight splendor from the sky : They bask beneath the sun's meridian rays, Where not a shadow breaks the boundless blaze; The breath of ocean wanders through tfeir vales, In morning breezes and in erening gales : Earth from her lap perennial verdure poui-s, Ambrosial fruits and amaranthine flowers ^ O'er the wild mountains and luxuriant plains Nature in all the pomp of beauty I'eigns, In all the pride of freedom. Nature freS Proclaims that Man was bom for liberty. She flourishes where'er the Runbeams play O'er living fountains, sallying into day; 150 SHARE ADVBNTURI III PANAUA. She withers where the WAtera cease to roll, And night and winter Htagnute roiind the pole. Man, too, whoro freedom's beams and fountains riia^ Springs from the dust, and blossoms to the nkiea : Df^d to the joys of light and life, the slave Clb^'s to the clod, his root is in the grave : Boiiiii ^e is winter, dai'knoss, death, despair; Freedom, the lun, tho tea, the mountains, and the air ! — MONTOOMERT. SHARK ADVENTURE IN PANAMA. A NATIVE of the country, called Don Pablo Ochon, who was for many years the superintendent of the fishery, and who was himself a practical diver, relates llio following adventure, wliich he says haj)pened to h^m in one of his submarine excursions. He had been told of a reef, on which it was said that a great number of larjje oysters might be found, and jifter a good deal of trouble he succeeded in discovering it. Hoping to pick up some fine specimens of shells, Don Pablo dived to a dei)th of eleven fathoms. The rock was not more than one hundred and fifty or two hundred yards in ^Jir nmferenco. H^ ^wum round it and examined it without seeing anything to induce him to prolong his stay under water. As there were no c y.steis to be seen, he was preparing to ascend, and he looked up, as divers generally do, to be sure that no monster is watching them. When Don Pablo raised his eyes, he saw a tintorero (a species of shark) standing sentinel over him, a few yards above his head, which had proBably been watching him from the time he plunged into the water. The size of tlus monster was so great that it was useless to think of defending himself with his pointed stick, for the horrible creature had a mouth that coi Jd have swallowed both stick and man at one mouthful. Don Pablo felt ill at ease when he saw his retreat so completely cut off; but in the water there is not much time for reflection ; he swam, therefore, as quickly as he could towards another point of the rock, hoping thus m deceive the vigilance of his enemy. Imagino his horror vrhva he again saw it hovering orer hit t THI EARTBQUAXB OF OARACOAI. T^"^ air I UERT. ^ho was Nrbo was B, wliioh lursions. ; a great Dod deal pick up depth of Lred and n round him to )is to be IS divers g them, i species 30ye his time he so great ndth his lat co\ Jd I. Don jtely cut tion; hff i«r point I enemy, orer hit bead, like a falcon watching a little bird. The shark rolled its great fiery eyes, and opened and closed its fonniduble jaws in such a way that for long after the very remembrance of it made Don Pablo tremble. The unfortunate di^r saw only two altomatives before him •—to be di'owned, or to be eat in the J, buried town of hichdid ^puchin live in uite BO e town, ^tbere tlie Cathedral, ftupported by enormous buttresses, remaint standing. In estimating the number of persons killed in the city of Caraccas at nine or ten thousand, we do not include those unhappy individuals who were severely wounded, and perished several months after from want of food and proper attention. The night of Holy Thursday presented the most distressing scenes of desolation and sorrow. \"^e thick cloud of dust, which rose above the ruins and darkened the air like a mist, had fallen again to the ground; the shocks had ceased; never was there a finer or quieter night — the moon, nearly at the full, illuminated the rounded sunmiits of the Silla, and the serenity of the heavens contrasted strongly with the state of the earth, which was strewed with ruins and dead bodies. Mothers were seen carrying in their arms children whom they hoped to recall to life; desolate females ran through the city in quest of a brother, a husband, or a friend, of whose fate they were ignorant, and whom they supposed to have been separated from them in the crowd. The people pressed along the streets, which now could onlv be distinguished by heaps of ruins Arranged in lines. All the calmxiiitieg experienced in the great earthquakes of Lisbon, Messina, Lima, and Riobamba, were repeated on the fatal day of the 26th of March, 1812. Tlie wounded, buried under the ruins, implored the assistance of the passers-by with loud cries, and more than two thousand of them were dug out. Never was pity displayed in a more affecting manner; never, we may scy, was it seen more ingeniously active, than in the efforts made to succor the unhappy persons whose groans i^eached the ear. There was an entire want of instruments adapted for digging up the ground and clearing away the ruins, and the people were obliged to use their hands for the purpose of disinterring the living. Those who Were wounded, as well as the patients who had escaped from the hospitals, were placed on the bank of the little river of Guayra, where they had no other shelter than the foliage of the trees. Beds, linen for dressing their wounds, surgical instruments, medicines, in short everything necessary for their treatment, had been buried in ^h0 rains. During the first days nothing could be procured,'— not even food. Within the city, water became equally scarca ^ommotion had broken the pipes of the fountains, and the of the earth had obstructed the springs which sapplied 154 A BAIfi-BRBADTII ADTSMTUBB IN DG^IEKARA. taem. To obtain water it was necessary to descend as far afl the Rio Guayra, which was considerably swollen, and there were no vessels for drawing it. — Humboldt's << Travelt and Eetearehet." n A. HAIR-BREADTH ADVENTURE IN DEMERARA. One mominq, — and it was a morning by him never afterwards to be forgotten, — ^the subject of this anecdote left home, and proceeded alone on a shooting excursion. I should scarcely, however, be justified in asserting that he went forth absolutr^Jy alone; for two powerful tiger-hounds followed closely at his heels. His favorite blood-hound howled long and plaintively for permission to join the party, but his master was inexorable ; he was tied up and left behind. Indeed, even the two dogs he took ^vith him were more as companions than from any idea he entertained, that their services would be called into requisition- Had he expected danger, it was not on them he would have relied, but on the noble animal whose courage and fidelity he had so often proved, and who was now left at home. The day passed over without any remarkable encounter; and Mr. A. was on his return home, his game-bag laden with feathered spoil, and a fine buck suspended from a projecting biranch of a marked tree, awaiting the morning's sun, till a slave should be sent for it. He had now nearly reached the outskirts of the wood, when he suddenly perceived in the thicket, on one side of the path through which he must pass, two small faint and twinkling lights, like that of a pair of glow-worms; his practised eye informed him tliat this appearance proceeded from nothing but the malevolent eyes of a wild beast, whether Cougar, or Puma or Jaguar, he hesitated not to det impossible. It is probable that, in his desperation, he formed the scheme of treacherously possessing himself of the person of the Inca, as a sure mode of attaining his objects. Some his- - torians of our country, more zealous for its honor than for the truth, have attempted to show that the blame of this tran- saction rests with the Inca, who, they say, was caught in hia &wxi trap ; but the dexterous audacity, the craft, and remorse- f ' ' ' ■ ♦■.■ 'S h i f 163 ooiyuEST or pebu. lees cruelty exhibited by Fizarro, and tbe part he took throng out the whole affair, clearly indicate that the design was his own. TVo officers, commanding detachments of cavalry, bore his homage to the Inca. On their approach, Atahualpa came forward to m^t them, and demanded the reason of their enter- ing his coun'y. In reply, they said Oliat Don Francisco Pizari'o, their captain, greatly desired the honor of an audience of his majesty, in order to state why he had entered his king* dom, and to beseech him to sup with him in the evening, in the city, or on the following day to dine with liim. To this the Inca replied, that the day was now near a close, and that on the morrow he would enter the city with his army, but that the Spaniards ought not on tliis account to be disconcerted. On the following day, Atahualpa, agreeably to his promise, proceeded, at the head of 20,000 of his troops, to enter Cax- amalca. He was carried by his chief nobles on a litter, beauti- fully ornamented with gold. His person was a blaze of jewels, and on his forehead was the sacred tuft, or Borla, peculiar to the descendants of the Sun. The slowne^ with "hich the procession moved brought it to the city late in th^ evening j and had the Inca delayed his visit but one day longer, the fall of the empire might have yet been averted, for the ambuscades planted by Pizarro would, doubtless, have been discovered during the night by some stragglers fiom a camp iso large as that of the Peruvians. As it was, however, his curiosity was fatal to him, and his desire to see a set of men, whom he considered the most exalted of niankind, led him blindly into the snara Pizarro had pointed his cannon to command the gates, placed his musketry in ambush, formed his cavalry into squadrons, and, with twenty shield-bearers as a body-guard, awaited the execution of his infamous plot. On entering the fatal gates, the Inca, forgetful of his usual gravity, exhibited the utmost curiosity, starting up in his palanquin, and examining every object with the greatest eagerness. A Dominican friar, bearing a cross and Bible, now approached him. The friar declared that the Pope had given Peru to Spain; that he owed the Pope his allegiance; and that the book ho carried showed the only way by which the Deity could be wor- shipped ; and that, unless he granted peace to the new Governor of Peru, his country would be given up totdl the horrors of war. •• CONQUEST OF PERU. 16S On this, the luca inquired, "Where am I to find your religion 1" "In this book," said the friar. He then took the book, and, opening it, placed it to his ear. After a pause, he exclaimed, flinging it contemptuously down, "This has no tongue; it tells me nothing." The friar, horrified at the act of impiety, urged his country- men to revenge the insult offered to the Deity. The danger of his situation was now ai)parent ' the Inca, and, turning to his officers, his words instantly produced murmurs of anger and indignation. Pizarro then gave the signal to his troops, who immediately poiu'ed on the unfortunate Peruvians a simultaneous discharge DTom cannon, musketry, and crossbows. The cavalry attacked the King's body-guard, and broke through it at the first charge ; and Pizarro, following up the attack with his shield-bear ors, at- tempted to take the Inca alive. Now was displayed that fortitude and devoted loyalty for which the Indian of Peru is still characterized. A band of faithfal noble j surrounded their sovereign, and only left his side to throw themselves in front of the enemy. Their number rapidly decreased; and the Inoa would have died fighting for his liberty, had not Pizarro rushed forward to the litter, and, seizing Atahualpa, pulled him to the ground. On seeing their leader fall, the Peruvians conceived him slain, and immediately gave up the contest, following the practice of their ancestors. The struggle was now at an end, and the Peruvians thought only of flight, and in theii* terror the crowd burst through the walls and fled in every direction. Two thousand were slain wi^in the city, and not a Spaniard had been wounded but PizaiTO, who received a spear thrust in the hand. The scene which now followed baffles all description. Tlie dreams of Spanish adventurers were now more than fulfilled; and the reality far exceeded what had been anticipated. The captive Inca, seeing the base purpose for which his enemies had come, offered, if he was set at liberty, to cover the floor of his chamber with wedges of gold and silver. His offer was received with incredulous shouts of laughter, and, mistaking it for the laugh of contempt, he started up, and stretching u^ his arms, offered to fill the room as high n he could reach. This unparalleled. ransom was instantly accepted, and Pizarro sent throe of his soldiers tO hasten the arriyal of the Inca's mes- ■engen. 164 CONQUEST or P£UU. As tho Spanish soldiers passed through the country on their way to the capital, Cuzco, they were received with every mark of honor and tho ransom would soon have been levied but for their immorality, which defeated the object of their mission. Tho treasure of the country was collected in tho diflerent temples, and it was hastily concealed by tho priests, along with the temple ornaments. The messengers were unsuccessful; and it was only after Hernando, the brother of Pizarro, had been sent with twenty horses, that the treaty was enforced. Twenty-six horse loads of gold, and a thousand pounds weight of silver, were brought in by this moans, besides what was brought by the caciques and captive generals of the Inca. At the distribution of this enormous booty, after deducting a fifth for tho king, 9,000 pesos (ounces) of gold fell to the Bhare of each soldier, besides SQO marcas (eight ounces each) of silver. Tho share of tho commander-in-chief was enormous, amounting to 67,120 pesos of gold, and 2,350 marcas of silver, and the gold tablet taken from the litter of- the Inca, v^ued at 25,000 pesos. Their avarice was now satisfied ; and tho next struggle was for ambition — a struggle which was fatal to these daring men —laying them in succession in a bloody grave. For some time Pizarro governed the country by means of the fallen King; but his ambition was not satisfied with this — he resolved to govern in his own name alone; The Inca was ac- cused of plotting insurrection, and he was shamefully put to death, with many of his nobles. One of his sons was placed as a puppet on the throne, and !^izarro, in the year 1553, took possession of the royal city of Cuzco, after a long but inefiectual resistance of the Peruvians. The city was given up to pillage, and the spoil, when divided, afibrded to each soldier 4,000 pesos, though the number of the claimants was 480. But the mul- titude who followed the army soon plundered the plunderers. Pizarro had now reached the height of his ambi+ion, having nothing more to hope for, but everything to fear. Dissension and rebellion broke out in the empii-e, and, worse than all, the Spaniards quarrelled among themselves. Almagi'O, a man of great bravery, though unequal to Pizan-o in cunning, unsatisfied with his position, took up arms against him, but was defeated, taken prisoner, and strangled. Soon after, Pizarro, now the Marquis de las Chazcas, waa assassinated, falling a victim to the revenge of Diego, the con ■^4 STORY OP MALDONATA AND THE PUMA. 1C5 of Almagro, whom he ha